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? Thou'lt break my heart, thou warbling bird, That wantons through the flowering thorn; Thou minds me o departed joys, Departed -- never to return. Thou'lt 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 rose and woodbine twine; And ilka bird sang o' its luve, And, fondly, sae did I o' mine. Wi' lightsome heart I pou'd a rose, Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree; And my fause luver stole my rose, But ah! he left the thorn wi' me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A BALLAD UPON A WEDDING by JOHN SUCKLING GREAT BELL ROLAND; SUGGESTED BY PRESIDENT'S CALL VOLUNTEERS by THEODORE TILTON TO WALTER LIONEL DE ROTHSCHILD ON HIS BAR-MITZVAH by LOUIS BARNETT ABRAHAMS ON VENUS ARISING FROM THE SEA by ANTIPATER OF SIDON FOR THE MASTER'S SAKE by MINNIE MASON BEEBE MODERN MOSES, OR 'MY POLICY' MAN by JAMES MADISON BELL |