Odearly do I love to roveamong the fields of barley,'Twas there that Charley told his love,the brithe, the winsome Charley;Then he so su'd, and he so woo'd,and marriage was the parley,What could I do, but buckie too,with bonny, bonny, bonny Charley.
CHORUSO my bonny, bonny boy, bonny Charley,O my bonny, bonny boy, my bonny Charley.
I ken, the lasses rue the day,I sought the fields of barley,And strive to win from me away,the heart of winsome Charley;But, ah! how vain, they cannot gainhis love by all their parley,And now they see, he wooes but me,my bonny, bonny Charley. O my, etc.
O ilka blessing on the lairdthat owns the fields of barley,And I can him alone regard,for his ain winsome Charley;The genteel youth, with purest truth,so wooes one late and early,I can't withstand, to give my handto bonny, bonny Charley. O my, etc.
