I’ve seen the smiling
Of Fortune beguiling, 
I’ve tasted her favours, and found its decay; 
Sweet was its blessing
Kind its caressing, 
But soon it is fled—fled far away. 

I’ve seen the forest
Adorned of the foremost, 
With flowers of the fairest, most pleasant and gay; 
Sae bonnie was their blooming!
Their scent the air perfuming! 
But now they are withered and a’ wede away. 

I’ve seen the morning
With gold the hills adorning, 
And loud tempest storming before the mid-day. 
I’ve seen Tweed’s silver streams,
Shinning in the sunny beams 
Grow drumly and dark as he rowed on his way. 

Oh, fickle Fortune!
Why this cruel sporting? 
Oh, why still perplex us, poor sons of a day? 
Nae mair your smiles can cheer me,	
Nae mair your frowns can fear me;	
For the flowers of the forest are a’ wede away.