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Banks O' Doon

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The Banks O'Doon

by Robert Burns

Ye flowery banks o' bonie Doon,
How can ye blume sae fair!
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
An I sae fu' o' care!

Thou'll 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'll 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 luve; 
And sae did I o' mine. 

Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose, 
Frae aff its thorny tree; 
And my fause luver staw the rose, 
But left the thorn wi' me. 

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