O Waly, Waly Up The Bank, And Waly, Waly Down The Brae, And Waly, Waly Yon Burn Side, Where I And My Love Were Wont To Gae. I Leant My Back Unto An Aik, I Thought It Was A Trusty Tree; But First It Bow'D, And Syne It Brak, Sae My True Love Did Lichtly Me. O Waly, Waly, But Gin Love Be Bonny, A Little Time While It Is New; But When Its Auld, It Waxeth Cauld, And Fades Awa' Like Morning Dew. O Wherfore Shuld I Busk My Head? Or Wherfore Shuld I Kame My Hair? For My True Love Has Me Forsook, And Says He'll Never Loe Me Mair. Now Arthur-Seat Sall Be My Bed, The Sheets Shall Neir Be Prest By Me: Saint Anton'S Well Sall Be My Drink, Since My True Love Has Forsaken Me. MartI'mas Wind, When Wilt Thou Blaw, And Shake The Green Leaves Aff The Tree? O Gentle Death, When Wilt Thou Cum? For Of My Life I Am Wear'E. 'Tis Not The Frost That Freezes Fell, Nor Blawing Snaws Inclemenc'E; 'Tis Not Sic Cauld That Makes Me Cry, But My Love'S Heart Grown Cauld To Me. Whan We Came In By Glasgow Town, We Were A Comely Sight To See; My Love Was Clad In Black Velvet, And I Myself In Cramas'E. But Had I Wist, Before I Kist, That Love Had Been Sae Ill To Win, I Had Lockt My Heart In A Case Of Gowd, And Pinnd It With A Siller Pin. And, Oh! That My Young Babe Were Born, And Set Upon The Nurse'S Knee, And I Myself Were Dead And Gane! And The Green Grass Growing Over Me.