O wise and valiant Willy,
  Would ye but grip the helm!
My blessings on the day
  Ye rose to guide the realm.
The winds blew hard on Willy,
  And loudly roar'd the sea,
When a' the rest look'd silly,
  Like Ailsa rock was he.

 ... 

O doure and stalwart Willy,
  He's gane to ca' his plough,
But ere the play be play'd
  He'll get some mair ado
There's nought in Will's kail-yard,
  But ae bit laurel tree;
Yet doure and stalwart Willy
  Is welcome ay to me.

His daddy gied him his name,
  'Twas a' that he could gi'e,
Its kent his daddy's coat
  There's nane could fill but he.
O bold and reckless Willy,
  Nane bides a blast like thee,
In rough and blustering weather
  Ye're welcome ay to me.