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| KEEN blaws the win’ o’er the braes o’ Gleniffer, | |
| The auld castle-turrets are covered with snaw; | |
| How changed frae the time when I met wi’ my lover | |
| Amang the broom bushes by Stanley green shaw! | |
| The wild-flowers o’ summer were spread a’ sae bonnie, | 5 |
| The mavis sang sweet frae the green birken tree; | |
| But far to the camp they hae marched my dear Johnnie, | |
| And now it is winter wi’ nature and me. | |
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| Then ilk thing around us was blithesome and cheerie, | |
| Then ilk thing around us was bonnie and braw; | 10 |
| Now naething is heard but the wind whistling drearie, | |
| And naething is seen but the wide-spreading snaw. | |
| The trees are a’ bare, and the birds mute and dowie; | |
| They shake the cauld drift frae their wings as they flee; | |
| And chirp out their plaints, seeming wae for my Johnnie; | 15 |
| ’T is winter wi’ them, and ’t is winter wi’ me. | |
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| Yon cauld sleety cloud skiffs alang the bleak mountain, | |
| And shakes the dark firs on the steep rocky brae, | |
| While down the deep glen bawls the snaw-flooded fountain, | |
| That murmured sae sweet to my laddie and me. | 20 |
| It ’s no its loud roar on the wintry wind swellin’, | |
| It ’s no the cauld blast brings the tear i’ my e’e; | |
| For, O gin, I saw but my bonnie Scots callan, | |
| The dark days o’ winter were summer to me. | |
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