Aft ha'e I roved by bonnie Doon,
To see the woodbine twine,
And ilka bird sang o' its love;
And sae did I o' mine.
Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose,
Frae aff its thorny tree;
And my fause luver staw the rose,
But left the thorn wi' me.
Banks o' Doon.
[Second Version, written by Burns for Johnson's Museum. The following account of the air is given by the Poet, in a letter to Mr. Thomson, dated Nov. 1794: "There is an air, The Caledonian Hunt's Delight, to which I wrote a song that you will find in Johnson—Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon. This air, I think, might find a place among your hundred, as Lear says of his knights. Do you know the history of the air? It is curious enough. A good many years ago, Mr. James Miller, writer in your good town, was in company with our friend Clarke: and talking of Scottish music, Miller expressed an ardent ambition to be able to compose a Scots air. Mr. Clarke, partly by way of joke, told him to keep to the black keys of the harpsichord, and preserve some kind of rhythm, and he would infallibly compose a Scots air. Certain it is, that, in a few days, Mr. Miller produced the rudiments of an air, which Mr. Clarke, with some touches and corrections, fashioned into the tune in question."]
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!
Thou'lt break my heart, thou warbling bird,
That wantons through the flowering thorn;
Thou minds me o' departed joys,
Departed never to return.
Oft ha'e 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,
Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree;
But my fause lover stole my rose,
And ah! he left the thorn wi' me.
Bonnie Prince Charlie.
[Written by James Hogg. Composed and arranged for the Piano Forte by N. Gow, jun.]
Cam' ye by Athol, lad wi' the philabeg,
Down by the Tummel, or banks of the Gary?
Saw ye our lads, wi' their bonnets an' while cockades,
Leaving their mountains to follow Prince Charlie?
Follow thee, follow thee, wha wadna follow thee?
Lang hast thou loved and trusted us fairly!
Charlie, Charlie, wha wadna follow thee?
King of the Highland hearts, bonnie Prince Charlie.
I ha'e but ae son, my brave young Donald;
But if I had ten they should follow Glengarry;
Health to M'Donald and gallant Clan-Ronald,
For these are the men that will die for their Charlie.
Follow thee, follow thee, &c.
I'll to Lochiel and Appin, and kneel to them;
Down by Lord Murray and Koy of Kildarlie;
Brave Mackintosh he shall fly to the field wi' them;
They are the lads I can trust wi' my Charlie.
Follow thee, follow thee, &c.
Down through the Lowlands, down wi' the whigamore,
Loyal true Highlanders, down with them rarely;
Ronald and Donald drive on wi' the braid claymore,
Over the necks of the foes of Prince Charlie.
Follow thee, follow thee, &c.
See the Moon.
[Written by the late Daniel Weir of Greenock. Adapted to the celebrated air of "Rousseau's Dream."]
See the moon o'er cloudless Jura
Shining in the lake below;
See the distant mountain towering
Like a pyramid of snow.
Scenes of grandeur—scenes of childhood—
Scenes so dear to love and me!
Let us roam by bower and wildwood,
All is lovelier when with thee.
