The Banks Of Bonnie Doon by Robert Burns
Yon banks and hills of bonnie Doon,
You'll break my heart, you warbling birds
Oft did I rove by bonnie Doon
With lightsome heart I pulled a rose
How can you bloom so fresh and fair?
And little birds, how can you chaunt
With me so weary... full o' care?
That wanton thru the flow'ry thorns
You remind me of departed joys
Departed... never to return.
To see the rose and woodbine twine
And every bird sang of its love
As fondly once I sang of mine.
Full sweet from off its thorny tree
But my first lover stole that rose
And, ah! has left its thorns with me.
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