6
But by the moon and stars so bright,
That shone that hour so clearly!
She aye shall bless that happy night,
Amang the rigs o’ barley.
I hae been blythe wi’ comrades dear,
I hae been merry drinkin’;
I hae been joyfu' gathering gear,
I hae been happy thinkin;
But of a’ the pleasures e’er I saw,
Tho’ three times doubled fairly,
That happy night was worth them a’,
Amang the rigs o’ barley.
THE BANKS O’ DOON.
YE banks and braes o’ bonny Doon,
How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair,
How can ye chaunt, ye little birds,
And I sae weary fu’ o’ care.
How can ye chaunt, ye little birds,
That wanton through the flow’ry thorn;
Ye mind me o’ departed joys,
Departed never to return.
Oft hae I roam’d by bonny Doon,
To see the rose and woodbine twine;
Whar 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 love has stown the rose,
But ah! he left the thorn wi’ me.
