The Banks O DoonThird Version（1 / 1）

the banks o' doon—third version

ye banks and braes o' bonie 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:

thou minds me o' departed joys,

departed never to return.

aft hae i rov'd by bonie doon,

to see the rose and woodbine twine:

and ilka 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 may fause luver staw my rose,

but ah! he left the thorn wi' me.