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.
When day declining gilds the west,
And weary labour welcomes rest,
How lightly bounds his beating breast
At thought of meeting somebody.
My fair, my faithful somebody,
My fair, my faithful somebody,
When sages, with their precepts show,
Perfection is unknown below,
They mean, except in somebody.
Her lovely looks, sae kind and gay,
Are sweeter than the smiles of day,
And milder than the morn of May
That beams on bonnie somebody.
My fair, &c.
'Twas but last eve, when wand'ring here,
We heard the cushat cooing near,
I softly whisper'd in her ear,
"He woos, like me, his somebody."
My fair, &c.
With crimson cheek the fair replied,
"As seasons change, he'll change his bride;
But death alone can e'er divide
From me the heart of somebody."
My fair, &c.
Enrapt I answer'd, "Maid divine,
Thy mind's a model fair for mine;
And here I swear I'll but resign
With life the love of somebody."
My fair, &c.