Return sae dowf and wearie O; dull
Down by the burn, where scented birks
Wi' dew are hanging clear, my jo, sweetheart
I'll meet thee on the lea-rig, grassy ridge
My ain kind dearie O. own
In mirkest glen, at midnight hour, darkest
I'd rove, and ne'er be eerie O, scared
If thro' that glen I gaed to thee, went
My ain kind dearie O.
Altho' the night were ne'er sae wild,