| |
| O HOW can I be blythe and glad, | |
| Or how can I gang brisk and braw, | |
| When the bonie lad that I lo’e best | |
| Is o’er the hills and far awa! | |
| |
| It’s no the frosty winter wind, | 5 |
| It’s no the driving drift and snaw; | |
| But aye the tear comes in my e’e, | |
| To think on him that’s far awa. | |
| |
| My father pat me frae his door, | |
| My friends they hae disown’d me a’; | 10 |
| But I hae ane will tak my part, | |
| The bonie lad that’s far awa. | |
| |
| A pair o’ glooves he bought to me, | |
| And silken snoods he gae me twa; | |
| And I will wear them for his sake, | 15 |
| The bonie lad that’s far awa. | |
| |
| O weary Winter soon will pass, | |
| And Spring will cleed the birken shaw; | |
| And my young babie will be born, | |
| And he’ll be hame that’s far awa. | 20 |
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