Where I and my Love wont to gae.
I leaned my back unto an aik, 5
I thought it was a trusty tree;
But first it bowed, and syne it brak’,
Sae my true Love did lichtly me.
O waly, waly, but love be bonnie,
A little time while it is new, 10
But when ’tis auld, it waxeth cauld,
And fades away like morning dew.
Oh! wherefore should I busk my head,