 | The Poetry of Robert Burns |  |
THE BONIE LAD THAT'S FAR AWA
I
O, how can I be blythe and glad,Or how can I gang brisk and braw,
When the bonie lad that I lo'e best
Is o'er the hills and far awa?
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II
It's no the frosty winter wind,It's no the driving drift and snaw;
But ay the tear comes in my e'e
To think on him that's far awa.
III
My father pat me frae his door,My friends they hae disown'd me a';
But I hae ane will tak my part—
The bonie lad that's far awa.
IV
A pair o' glooves he bought to me,And silken snoods he gae me twa,
And I will wear them for his sake,
The bonie lad that's far awa.
V
O, weary Winter soon will pass,And Spring will cleed the birken shaw,
And my sweet babie will be born,
And he'll be hame that's far awa!
| The Poetry of Robert Burns | |