Classic Poem

O How can I be blythe and glad,
Or how can I gang brisk and braw,
When the bonie lad that I loe best,
Is o'er the hills and far awa.—
[When the &c.]

[It 's no the frosty winter wind,
It 's no the driving drift and snaw;
But ay the tear comes in my e'e,
To think on him that 's far awa.—
But the &c.]

My father pat me frae his door,
My friends they hae disown'd me a';
But there is ane will tak my part,
The bonie lad that 's far awa.—
[But there &c.]

A pair o' gloves he bought to me,
And silken snoods he gae me twa,
And I will wear them for his sake,
The bonie lad that 's far awa.—
[And I will &c.]

O weary winter soon will pass,
And spring will cleed the birken shaw:
And my young babie will be born,
And he'll be hame that 's far awa.—
[And my &c.]