This text comes from The Scottish Minstrel (First Series), a historical songbook transcribed on Wikisource and reproduced from the pinned revision linked below.
I've seen the smiling of fortune beguiling,
I've felt all its favours, and found its decay;
Sweet was its blessing, and kind its caressing,
But now it is fled, is fled for away:
I've seen the forest adorned the foremost
With flowers of the fairest, most pleasant and gay;
So bonny was their blooming, their scent the air perfuming,
But now they are wither'd and weeded away.
I've seen the morning with gold the hills adorning,
And loud tempest storming before the mid-day;
I've seen Tweed's silver streams glittering in the sunny beams,
Grow drumly and dark as he row'd on his way.
O! fickle fortune, why this cruel sporting—
O! why still perplex us poor sons of a day?
No more your smiles can cheer me, no more your frowns can fear me,
For the flowers of the forest are wither'd away.