(Robert Burns)
My heart is wae, and unco wae,
To think upon the raging sea,
That roars between her gardens green
An the bonie lass of Albanie.
This lovely maid's of royal blood,
That ruled Albion's kingdoms three;
But Oh, alas for her bonie face!
They hae wrang'd the lass of Albanie.
In the rolling tide of spreading Clyde
There sits an isle o' high degree,
And a town of fame, whose princely name
Should grace the lass of Albanie.
But there is a youth, a witless youth,
That fills the place where she should be;
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