An 'she winna wauken to me.
Wearie, wearie, the hours, and slow,
Wauken, my lovie, and whisper low.
There's nae ae sang in heaven's licht,
Nor on the green earth doun,
Like soun's which kind love kens at nicht,
When whispers hap the soun';
Hearin', fearin', sichin' so—
Whisper, my bonnie love, whisper low!
They lack nae licht wha weel can speak