THE WIND FRAE THE BALTIC

Below the wa’s, oot-by Montrose, The tides ca’ up an’ doon And mony’s the gallant mairchantman Lies in aside the toon; Oh, it’s fine alang the tideway The loupin’ waters rin When the wind is frae the Baltic wi’ the brigs comin’ in. I’d gie the ring upon my hand To hide me frae the sea That manes by nicht an’ cries by day The dule that’s come to me, For I’ll hear nae mair the fit-fa’ When hame the brigs may win O’ a man that sailed the Baltic, nor his step comin’ in. And noo the toon is fair asteer, The weans rin doon the street, And I may turn my face aboot An’ get me hame to greet, There’s sic a joy wi’ a’ fowk My tears wad be a sin, For the wind is frae the Baltic—an’ the brigs comin’ in.