Ye Banks And Braes O' Bonnie Doon

Ye Banks And Braes
O' Bonnie Doon

Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon
How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair?
How can ye chaunt, ye little birds
And I sae weary full o' care?
Ye'll break my heart, ye warbling bird
That wantons thro' the flow'ry thorn
Ye mind o' departed joys
Departed never to return.

Oft hae I roved by bonnie Doon
To see the rose and woodbine twine
And ilka bird sang o' its love
And fondly sae did I o' mine
Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose
Full sweet upon its thorny tree
And my fause lover stole my rose
But ah! he left the thorn wi' me.