Thou’ll break my heart, thou warbling bird,
That wantons thro’ the flowering thorn:
Thou mindst me o’ departed joys,
Departed, never to return!
Aft hae I rov’d by bonnie 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;