The Banks o’ Doon

by Robert Burns

Ye banks and braes o’ bonnie Doon
  How can ye blume sae fair!
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
  And I sae fu’ o’ care!

Thou’ll break my heart, thou bonnie 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 bonnie bird
  That sings beside thy mate;
For sae I sat, and sae I sang,
  And wist na o’ my fate.

Aft hae I roved by bonnie 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 aff its thorny tree;
And my fause luver staw the rose,
  But left the thorn wi’ me.