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.
I gaed a waefu' gate yestreen,
A gate I fear I'll dearly rue;
I gat my death frae twa sweet een,
Twa lovely een o' bonnie blue.
'Twas not her golden ringlets bright,
Her lips like roses wet wi' dew,
Her heaving bosom, lily-white—
It was her een sae bonnie blue.
She talk'd, she smiled, my heart she wiled,
She charm'd my soul I wist na how,
But aye the stound, the deadly wound,
Cam' frae her een sae bonnie blue.
But, spare to speak, and spare to speed,
She'll aiblins listen to my vow:
Should she refuse, I'll lay me dead
To her twa een sae bonnie blue.