The Banks o' Doon
1759-1796
YE flowery banks o' bonnie Doon,
         How can ye blume 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 my fause luve was true.
Thou'll 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 woodbine twine;
And ilka bird sang o' its luve,
         And sae did I o' mine.
Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose
         Upon a morn in June;
And sae I flourish'd on the morn,
         And sae was pu'd or' noon.
Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose
         Upon its thorny tree;
But my fause luver staw my rose,
         And left the thorn wi' me.
DayPoems Poem No. 450
<a href="http://www.daypoems.net/poems/450.html">The Banks o' Doon by Robert Burns</a>
The DayPoems Poetry Collection, www.daypoems.net
Timothy Bovee, editor
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