This text comes from The Poetical Works of Robert Burns, a historical songbook transcribed on Wikisource and reproduced from the pinned revision linked below.
Here is the glen, and here the bower,
All underneath the birchen shade;
The village-bell has toll'd the hour,
O what can stay my lovely maid?
'Tis not Maria's whispering call;
'Tis but the balmy breathing gale,
Mixt with some warbler's dying fall,
The dewy star of eve to hail.
It is Maria's voice I hear!
So calls the woodlark in the grove
His little faithful mate to cheer,
At once 'tis music—and 'tis love.
And art thou come? and art thou true?
O welcome, dear, to love and me!
And let us all our vows renew,
Along the flow'ry banks of Cree.