I WHILES gang to the brig-side
That's past the briar tree,
Alang the road when the licht is wide
Ower Angus an the sea.
In by the dyke yon briar growes
Wi leaf an thorn, it's lane
Whaur the spunk o flame o the briar rose
Burns saft agin the stane.
An whiles a step treids on by me,
I mauna hear its fa';
An atween the brig an the briar tree
Ther gangs na ane, but twa.
Oot ower yon sea, throu duil an strife,
Ye tak yer road nae mair,
For ye've crossed the brig to the fields o life,
An ye walk for iver there.
I traivel on to the brig-side,
Whaur ilka road maun cease,
My weary war mey be lang to bide,
An you hae won to peace.
There's ne'er a nicht but turns to day,
Nor a load that's niver cast;
An there's nae wind cries on the winter brae,
But it spends itsel at last.
O you that flyer failed me yet,
Gin aince my step ye hear,
Come to yon brig atween us set,
An bide till I win near!
O weel, aye, weel, ye'll ken my treid,
Ye'll seek nae wird nor sign,
An I'll no can fail at the Brig o Dreid,
For yer hand will be in mine.