Ye Banks and Braes o’ Bonnie Doon.
Words by Burns.
Arranged by Finlay Dun.
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!
Ye’ll break my heart ye warbling birds,
That wanton through the flow’ry thorn,
Ye mind me o’ departed joys,
Departed never to return.
Oft ha’e I roved by bonnie Doon,
To see the rose and woodbine twine;
Where ilka bird sang o’ its love,
And fondly saw did I o’ mine,
Wi’ lightsome heart I pu’d a rose,
Fu’ sweet upon its thorny tree;
But my fause lover stole my rose,
And ah! he left the thorn wi’ me.