The wind blew high, the wind blew low, Through the wood I took my way; And there I met a bonnie lass, Just at the break of day.

She said, ‘Come hither, come hither, love, Oh, come and sit with me;’ For I’ll not be here all winter, love, Nor spring, nor summer free.

‘But I will be to thee, dear maid, While the sun shines bright and clear; But if you love me, love me well, Come, love, I’ll linger here.’

The wind flew high, the wind blew low; And the trees were full of cheer; When I left my dainty bonnie maid, Just at the break of year.

• Robert Burns