The snawdrap and primrose our woodlands adorn
And violets bathe in the weet o' the morn: wet (dew)
They pain my sad bosom, sae sweetly they blaw,
They mind me o' Nannie—and Nannie's awa.
Thou laverock, that springs frae the dews o' the lawn lark
The shepherd to warn o' the grey-breaking dawn,
And thou, mellow mavis, that hails the night-fa', thrush
Give over for pity—my Nannie's awa.
Come, autumn, sae pensive, in yellow and gray,