Mary's Dream (1812)/The Braes o' Gleniffer

by Robert Tannahill

For other versions of this work, see The Braes o' Gleniffer.

The Braes o’ Gleniffer.

Air, Bonny Dundee.

Keen blaws the win’ o’er the braes o’ Gleniffer,
⁠The auld castle turrets are cover’d wi’ snaw,
How chang’d froe the time when I met wi’ my lover,
⁠Amang the broom bushes by Stanely green shaw.
The wild flow’rs o’ simmer were spread a’ sae bonnie,
⁠The mavis sang sweet frae the green birken tree,
But far to the camp they hae march’d my dear Johnnie
⁠An’ now it is winter wi’ nature an’ me.

Then ilk thing around us was blythsome an’ cheery,
⁠Then ilk thing around us was bonny an’ braw;
Now naething is heard but the wind, whistling dreary,
⁠An’ naething is seen but the wide-spreading snaw:
The trees are a’ bare, an’ the birds mute an’ dowie,
⁠They shake the cald drift frae their wings as they flee,
An’ chirp out their plaints, seeming wae for my Johnnie,
⁠’Tis winter wi’ them, an’ ’tis winter wi’ me.

Yon cauld sleety cloud skiffs alang the bleak mountain,
⁠An’ shakes the dark firs on the stay rocky brae,
While down the deep glen bawls the snaw-flooded fountain,
⁠That murmur’d sae sweet to my laddie an’ me:
It’s no its loud roar on the wintry win’ swellin’,
⁠It’s no the cauld blast brings the tears i’ my e’e,
For, O gin I saw but my bonny Scots callan,
⁠The dark days o’ winter war’ simmer to me!