Seven excellent songs/Bonnie Doon
For other versions of this work, see The Banks O' Doon.
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BONNIE DOON.
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’ll break my heart thou warbling bird,
That wantons thro’ the flowering thorn:
That minds me o’ departed joys,
Departed never to return.
Oft hae I rov’d by bonnie Doon,
To see the rose and woodbine twine;
And ilk a bird sang o’ its luve,
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.