Ye flowery banks o' bonnie Doon, 
  How can ye bloom 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 mv fause love 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 rov'd 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.