What ails this heart o’ mine?
  What ails this watery ee?
What gars me a’ turn pale as death
  When I take leave o’ thee?
When thou art far awa’,
  Thou ’lt dearer grow to me;
But change o’ place and change o’ folk
  May gar thy fancy jee.

When I gae out at e’en,
  Or walk at morning air,
Ilk rustling bush will...