Craigieburn Wood
"Sweet closes the ev'ning on Craigieburn Wood, And blythely awaukens the morrow; But the pride o' the springin the Craigieburn Wood Can yield to me nothing but sorrow. Chorus.-Beyond thee, dearie, beyond thee, dearie, And O to be lying beyond thee! O sweetly, soundly, weelmay he sleep That's laid in the bed beyond thee! I