The Banks O' Doon

(Robert Burns)



Ye flowery banks o'bonie Doon,

How can ye blume sae fair;

How can ye chant, ye 1ittle birds,

And I sae fu'o'care!



Thou'll break my heart, thou bonie bird

That sings upon the bough;

Thou minds me o'the happy days

When my fause luve was true.



Thou'll break my heart, thou bonie bird

That sings beside thy mate;

For sae I sat, and sae I sang,

And wist na o'my fate.



Aft hae I rov'd by bonie Doon,

To see the wood-bine twine,

And ilka bird sang o'its love,

And sae did I o'mine.



Wi'1ightsome heart I pu'd a rose

Frae aff its thorny tree,

And my fause luver staw the rose,

But left the thorn wi'me.



Wi'1ightsome heart I pu'd a rose,

Upon a mom in June:

And sae I flourish'd on the morn,

And sae was pu'd or noon!



Note: Tune is Cambdelmore (328A)

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