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The Banks of Doon

by Robert Burns
This is the third of three versions written by the author.

Robert Burns - Scottish Poet

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!
Ye'll break my heart, ye warbling bird,
That wantons thro' the flowering thorn:
Ye minds me o' departed joys,
Departed--never to return!

Oft hae I rov'd by bonnie Doon,
To see the rose and woodbine twine;
And ilka bird sang o' its luve,
And fondly sae did I o' mine.
Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose,
Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree;
And my fause lover staw my rose,
But, ah! he left the thorn wi' me.


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