Wha will be a trailor knave ? Wha can fill a coward's grave ? Wha sae base as be a slave ? Let him turn and flee !

O wert thou in the cauld blast
On yonder lea, on yonder lea,
My plaidie to the angry airt,
I'd shelter thee, I'd shelter thee;
Or did misfortune's bitter storms
Around thee blaw, around thee blaw,
Thy bield should be my bosom,
To share it a', to share it a'.

Or were I in the wildest waste,
Sae black and bare, sae black and bare,
The desert were a paradise,
If thou wert there, if thou wert there;
Or were I monarch o' the globe,
Wi' thee to reign wi' thee to reign,
The brightest jewel in my crown
Wad be my queen, wad be my queen...