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.