The gowan glitters on the sward,
The lavrock's in the sky,
And Colley on my plaid keeps ward,
And time is passing by.
Oh no! Sad and slow!
I hear nae welcome sound!
The shadow of our trysting bush,
It wears so slowly round.

My sheepbell tinkles frae the west,
My lambs are bleating near,
But still the sound tha I lo'e best,
Alack! I canna hear.
Oh no! Sad and slow!
The shadow lingers still,
And like a lonely ghaist I stand
And croon upon the hill.

I hear below the water roar,
Th mill wi' clakkin' din,
And Lukky scolding frae her door,
To bring the bairnies in,
Oh no! Sad and slow!
These are nae sounds for me;
The shadow of a trysting bush,
It creeps sae drearily.