| Keen blaws the win' o’er the braes o' Glennifer
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| The auld castle’s turrets are covered wi' snaw
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| How changed frae the time when I met wi' my lover
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| Amang the brume bushes by Stanley green shaw
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| The wild flowers o' simmer were spread a' sae bonnie
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| The Mavis sang sweet frae the green birkin tree
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| But far to the camp they ha’e marched my dear Johnnie
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| And now it is winter wi' nature and me
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| Then ilk thing aroun' us was blythsome and cheery
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| Then ilk thing aroun' us was bonnie and braw
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| Now naething is heard but the win' whistlin' dreary
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| And naething is seen by the wide spreadin' snaw
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| The trees are a' bare, and the birds mute and dowie
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| They shake the cauld drift frae their wings as they flee
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| And chirp out their plaints, seeming wae for my Johnnie
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| 'Tis winter wi' them and 'tis winter wi' me
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| Yon caul sleety could skiffs alang the bleak mountain
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| And shakes the dark firs on the stey rocky brae
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| While doun the deep glen bawls the snaw-flooded fountain
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| That murmur’d sae sweet to my laddie an' me
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| 'Tis no' its loud roar, on the wintry win' swellin'
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| 'Tis no' the caul' blast brings the tear to my e’e
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| For, oh, gin I saw my bonnie Scots callan
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| The dark days o' winter war simmer tae me |