This text comes from The Poetical Works of Robert Burns, a historical songbook transcribed on Wikisource and reproduced from the pinned revision linked below.
How lang and dreary is the night,
When I am frae my dearie;
I restless lie frae e'en to morn,
Tho' I were ne'er sae weary.
Chorus.
For oh, her lanely nights are lang;
And oh, her dreams are eerie ;
And oh, her widow'd heart is sair,
That's absent frae her dearie.
When I think on the lightsome days
I spent wi' thee, my dearie,
And now that seas between us roar,
How can I be but eerie !
For oh, &c.
How slow ye move, ye heavy hours
The joyless day how drearie!
It wasna sae ye glinted by,
When I was wi' my dearie.
For oh, &c.