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.