When wild war's deadly blast was blawn and gentle peace returning
Wi' mony a sweet babe faitherless and mony a widow mourning
I left the lines and tented field where lang I'd been a lodger
My humble knapsack all my wealth, a poor and honest soldier
A leal licht heart was in my breast, my hand unstained wi' plunder
And for fair Scotia hame again I cheery on did wander
I thocht upon the banks o' Coil, I thocht upon my Nancy
And aye I minded the witching smile that caught my youthful fancy
At length I reached the bonnie glen where early life I sported
I passed the mill and trysting thorn where Nancy oft I courted
Wha spied I but my ain dear maid down by her mother's dwelling
And turned me round to hide the flood that in my een was swelling
She gazed, she redden'd like a rose syne pale like ony lily
She sank within my arms and cried "Art thou my ain dear Willie?"
"By him who made yon sun and sky, by whom true love's regarded,
I am the man and thus may still true lovers be rewarded."
"The wars are owre and I've come hame and find thee still true hearted
Tho poor in gear we're rich in love and mair we'se ne'er be parted."
Quoth she "My grandsire left me gowd a mailin plenished fairly
And come my faithfu' sodger lad, you're welcome tae it dearly."
Writer(s): Robert Wolfe
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