The Banks o' Doon

By Robert Burns

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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