the bonie lad that's far awa
  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,
  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';
  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,
  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.