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Ye banks and braes o' bonnie doon |
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How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair? |
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How can ye chant ye little birds |
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And i sae weary full o' care? |
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Ye'll break my heart ye warbling birds |
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That wanton through the flowery thorn |
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Ye 'mind me o' departed joys |
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Departed never to return |
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Oft hae i roved by bonnie doon |
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To see the rose and woodbine twine |
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And ilka bird sang o' its love |
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And fondly sae did i o' mine |
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Wi' lightsome heart i pulled a rose |
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Full sweet upon its thorny tree |
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And my false lover stole my rose |
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But ah she left the thorn wi' me |
