Ye Banks and Braes (reinhören)

Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon,
How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair?
How can ye chant ye little birds,
And I sae weary, fu' o' care?

2. Ye'll break my heart, ye warbling birds,

That wantons through the flow'ry thorn,
Ye 'mind me o' departed joys,
Departed never to return.

3. Oft hae I rov'd by bonnie Doon,
To see the rose and woodbine twine;
When every bird sang o' its love,
And fondly sae did I o' mine.

4. Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose,
Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree;
But my false lover stole my rose,

And, oh! she left the thorn with me.