O Wert Thou In The Cauld Blast

Windy all day, strong blasts made me difficult to cycle. Finally got at MK Central to buy tickets to London tomorrow. Rain stopped after noon and sun came out. But I was wet inside, feeling cold in the blast wind.

Outside the station there sits a handcarved stone sculpture. It is an inspiration by a poem by Robert Burns.

I googled the poem and here's the version that I don't completely comprehend. Anyone can provide a modern English version?

O wert thou in the cauld blast,
On yonder lea, on yonder lea,
My plaidie to the angry airt,
I'd shelter thee, I'd shelter thee;
Or did Misfortune's bitter storms
Around thee blaw, around thee blaw,
Thy bield should be my bosom,
To share it a', to share it a'.

Or were I in the wildest waste,
Sae black and bare, sae black and bare,
The desert were a Paradise,
If thou wert there, if thou wert there;
Or were I Monarch o' the globe,
Wi' thee to reign, wi' thee to reign,
The brightest jewel in my Crown
Wad be my Queen, wad be my Queen.