O had awa, had awa,
Had awa frae me, Donald; 
Your heart is made o'er big for ane,
It is not meet for me, Donald. 
Some fickle mistress you may find,
Will change as aft as thee, Donald; 
To ilka swain she will prove kind,
And nae less kind to thee, Donald.

First when you courted, I must own, 
I frankly favour'd you, Donald: 
Apparent worth, and fair renown,
Made me believe you true, Donald. 
Ilk virtue then seem'd to adorn
The man esteem'd by me, Donald, 
But, now the mask is fallen, I scorn
To ware a thought on thee, Donald.

And now, for ever had awa, 
Had awa frae me, Donald;
Gae seek a heart that's like thy ain, 
And come nae mair to me, Donald.
For I'll reserve mysell for ane, 
For ane that's liker me, Donald:
If sic a ane I canna find, 
I'll ne'er love man, nor thee, Donald.