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[ar:] |
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[al:] |
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[offset:40] |
[00:12.39] |
Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon, |
[00:18.93] |
How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair; |
[00:25.33] |
How can ye chant, ye little bird, |
[00:31.88] |
And I sae weary, fu' o' care! |
[00:38.23] |
Y'll break my he'rt, y' warbling bird, |
[00:44.33] |
That wantons thro' the flowering thorn: |
[00:52.19] |
Ye minds me o' departed joys, |
[00:59.00] |
Departed, never to return! |
[01:16.34] |
Aft hae I rov'd by bonnie Doon, |
[01:22.93] |
To see the rose and woodbine twine: |
[01:29.17] |
And ilka bird sang o' its luve, |
[01:35.52] |
And fondly sae did I o' mine; |
[01:41.82] |
Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose, |
[01:47.76] |
Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree! |
[01:55.47] |
And my fause Lover stole my rose, |
[02:02.29] |
But ah! he left the thorn wi' me. |