Ye flowery banks o’ bonie Doon, How can ye blume sae fair! How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae fu’ o’ care.
Thou’lt break my heart, thou bonie bird, That sings upon the bough; Thou minds me o’ the happy days, When my fause luve was true.
Thou’lt break my heart, thou bonie bird, That sings beside thy mate; For sae I sat, and sae I sang, And wist na o’ my fate.
Aft hae I rov’d by bonie 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 off its thorny tree; And my fause luver staw the rose, But left the thorn wi’ me.
[ AS SLOW OUR SHIP]
As slow our ship her foamy track Against the wind was cleaving, Her trembling pennant still looked back To that dear isle ’twas leaving. So loth we part from all we love, From all the links that bind us; So turn our hearts, where’er we rove, To those we’ve left behind us!
