The Banks o' Doon,Robert Burns 1759-1796, The Other Ayrshire Poet.

Ye flowery banks 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 wistna o' my fate.

Aft hae I roved by bonnie Doon,

To see the woodbine twine;

And like a bird sang o' its luve,

And sae did I o, mine.

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.

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.

--Robert Burns