Here awa', there awa' wandering, Willie,
  Here awa', there awa', haud awa' hame;
Come to my bosom, my ae only deary,
  Tell me thou bring'st me my Willie the same.

 ... 

Rest, ye wild storms, in the cave o' your slumbers,
  How your dread howling a lover alarms!
Wauken, ye breezes! row gently, ye billows!
  And waft my dear Laddie ance mair to my arms.

But oh, if he 's faithless, and minds na his Nanie,
  Flow still between us, thou wide roaring main:
May I never see it, may I never trow it,
  But, dying, believe that my Willie 's my ain!