This text comes from The Poetical Works of Robert Burns, a historical songbook transcribed on Wikisource and reproduced from the pinned revision linked below.
Auld chuckie Reekie's sair distrest,
Down droops her ance weel burnish't crest,
Nae joy her bonie buskit nest
Can yield ava,
Her darling bird that she lo'es best,
Willie's awa!
O Willie was a witty wight,
And had o' things an unco slight;
Auld Reekie aye he keepit tight,
An' trig an' braw:
But now they'll busk her like a fright,
Willie's awa!
The stiffest o' them a' he bow'd;
The bauldest o' them a' he cow'd;
They durst nae mair than he allow'd,
That was a law:
We've lost a birkie weel worth gowd,
Willie's awa!
Now gawkies, tawpies, gowks, and fools,
Frae colleges and boarding-schools,
May sprout like simmer puddock-stools
In glen or shaw;
He wha could brush them down to mools,
Willie's awa!
The brethren o' the Commerce-Chaumer
May mourn their loss wi' doolfu' clamour;
He was a dictionar and grammar
Amang them a';
I fear they'll now mak mony a stammer,
Willie's awa!
Nae mair we see his levee door
Philosophers and Poets pour,
And toothy critics by the score,
In bloody raw,
The adjutant o' a' the core,
Willie's awa!
Now worthy Gregory's latin face,
Tytler's and Greenfield's modest grace;
M'Kenzie, Stuart, sic a brace
As Rome ne'er saw;
They a' maun meet some ither place,
Willie's awa!
Poor Burns e'en Scotch drink canna quicken,
He cheeps like some bewildered chicken
Scar'd frae its minnie and the cleckin
By hoodie-craw;
Grief's gien his heart an unco kickin',
Willie's awa!
Now ev'ry sour-mou'd grinin' blellum,
And Calvin's folk, are fit to fell him;
And self-conceited critic skellum
His quill may draw;
He wha could brawlie ward their bellum,
Willie's awa!
Up wimpling stately Tweed I've sped,
And Eden scenes on crystal Jed,
And Ettrick banks now roaring red,
While tempests blaw;
But every joy and pleasure's fled,
Willie's awa!