Ye Banks And Braes R. Burns
Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon
How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair?
How can ye chant ye little birds
And I sae weary, fu' o' care?
Ye'll break my heart, ye warbling bird
That wanton through the flow'ry thorn
Ye mind me o' departed joys
Departed never to return.
Oft hae I rov'd 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
Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree;
And my fause lover stole my rose
But ah! he left the thorn wi' me.
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