Ye gales that gently wave the sea,
And please the canny boatman,
Bear me frae hence, or bring to me
My brave, my bonny Scot-man:
In haly bands we join'd our hands,
Yet may not this discover,
While parents rate a large estate,
Before a faithfu' lover.
 
But I loor chuse in Highland glens
To herd the kid and goat, man,
E'er I cou'd for sic little ends
Refuse my bonny Scot-man.
Wae worth the man wha first began
The base ungenerous fashion,
Frae greedy views love's arts to use,
While stranger to its passion.
 
Frae foreign fields, my lovely youth,
Haste to thy longing lassie,
Who pants to press thy balmy mouth,
And in her bosom hause thee.
Love gi'es the word, then haste on board,
Fair winds and tenty boatman,
Waft o'er, waft o'er frae yonder shore,
My blythe, my bonny Scot-man.