rest, ye wild stor, in the cave of your sluers,

how your dread howling a lover r!

wauken, ye breezes, row gently, ye billows,

and waft dearddie ance ir to ar.

but oh, if he's faithless, and nds na his nannie,

flow still between us, thou wide roaring in!

y i never see it, y i never trow it,

but, dying, believe that willie's ain!