Bonnie Doon

Ye banks and braes of Bonnie Doon
How can ye bloom so fresh and fair?
How can ye chant ye little birds
While I so weary, full of care?
Ye’ll break my heart, ye warbling birds
That wanton o’er the flowering thorn
Ye mind me o’ departed joys
Departed never to return

Oft have I been by Bonnie Doon
To see the rose and woodbine twine
And ilka bird sang of all its joy
And fondly so did I with mine
Wi’ lightsome heart I pulled a rose
Full sweet upon its flowering tree
And my false lover he stole my rose
But ah! he left the thorn with me