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.
On the blythe Beltane, as I went
By mysel' attour the green bent,
Whereby the glancin' waves of Clyde,
Throch sauchs and hangin' hazels glide:
There, sadly sittin' on a brae,
I heard a damsel speak her wae.
"Oh, Bothwell Bank, thou blumest fair,
But, oh, thou mak's my heart fu' sair!
For a' beneth thy holts sae green
My luve and I wad sit at e'en;
While primroses and daisies, mixt
Wi' blue bells, in my locks he fixt.
"But he left me ae dreary day,
And haply now lies in the clay,
Without ae sich his death to roun',
Without ae flowir his grave to croun!
Oh, Bothwell Bank, thou blumest fair,
But, oh, thou mak's my heart fu' sair."