THE WIND FRAE THE BALTIC
Below the wa’s, oot-by Montrose,
The tides ca’ up an’ doon
And mony’s the gallant mairchantman
Lies in aside the toon;
Oh, it’s fine alang the tideway
The loupin’ waters rin
When the wind is frae the Baltic wi’ the brigs comin’ in.
I’d gie the ring upon my hand
To hide me frae the sea
That manes by nicht an’ cries by day
The dule that’s come to me,
For I’ll hear nae mair the fit-fa’
When hame the brigs may win
O’ a man that sailed the Baltic, nor his step comin’ in.
And noo the toon is fair asteer,
The weans rin doon the street,
And I may turn my face aboot
An’ get me hame to greet,
There’s sic a joy wi’ a’ fowk
My tears wad be a sin,
For the wind is frae the Baltic—an’ the brigs comin’ in.