Loud tho' the winter blew cauld at our parting,
'Twas na the blast brought the tear in my e'e;
Welcome now, Simmer, and welcome, my Willie,
The Simmer to Nature, my Willie to me!
Rest, ye wild storms, in the cave o' your slumbers;
How your dread howling a lover alarms!
Wauken, ye breezes, row gently, ye billows, [Awake]
And waft my dear laddie ance mair to my arms. [once more]
But oh, if he's faithless, and minds na his Nannie,
Flow still between us, thou wide-roaring main;
May I never see it, may I never trow it,
But, dying, believe that my Willie's my ain! [own]
HOW LANG AND DREARY
How lang and dreary is the night.
When I am frae my dearie!
I restless lie frae e'en to morn,
Tho' I were ne'er sae weary.
For O, her lanely nights are lang;
And O, her dreams are eerie; [fearful]
And O, her widow'd heart is sair, [sore]
That's absent frae her dearie.
When I think on the lightsome days
I spent wi' thee, my dearie,
And now that seas between us roar,
How can I be but eerie!
How slow ye move, ye heavy hours;
The joyless day how drearie!
It wasna sae ye glinted by, [glanced]
When I was wi' my dearie.
THE BONNIE LAD THAT'S FAR AWA
O how can I be blithe and glad,
Or how can I gang brisk and braw, [go, fine]
When the bonnie lad that I lo'e best
Is o'er the hills and far awa?
It's no the frosty winter wind,
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.
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