This text comes from The Book of Scottish Song, edited by Alexander Whitelaw, a historical songbook transcribed on Wikisource and reproduced from the pinned revision linked below.
For lack of gold she has left me, O,
And of all that's dear she's bereft me, O;
She me forsook for Athole's duke.
And to endless woe she has left me, O.
A star and garter have more art
Than youth, a true and faithful heart;
For empty titles we must part—
For glittering show she has left me, O.
No cruel fair shall ever move
My injured heart again to love;
Through distant climates I must rove,
Since Jeany she has left me, O.
Ye powers above, I to your care
Resign my faithless, lovely fair;
Your choicest blessing be her share,
Though she has ever left me, O.