316. Song—The Banks o' Doon (First Version)

 SWEET are the banks—the banks o’ Doon,
 The spreading flowers are fair,
And everything is blythe and 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, 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 birds sang o’ its Luve,
 And sae did I o’ mine:
Wi’ lightsome heart I pu’d a rose,
 Upon its thorny tree;
But my fause Luver staw my rose
 And left the thorn wi’ me:
Wi’ lightsome heart I pu’d a rose,
 Upon a morn in June;
And sae I flourished on the morn,
 And sae was pu’d or noon!

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