'Ye banks and braes O'bonnie Doon' by Robert Burns

Song ----
Sweet are the banks, the banks o' Doon,
The spreading flowers are fair,
And every thing is blythe & glad
But I am 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, & sae I sing,
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,
Upon its thorny tree;
But

And my fause Luver staw my rose,
But left the thorn wi' me. ----

Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose,
Upon a morn in June:
And sae I flourish'd on the morn,
And sae was pu'd or noon.

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