Ye Banks And Braes O'bonnie Doon
Robert Burns
Ye banks and braes 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 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 wist na o’ my fate. Aft hae I roved 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.
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- Ellis Parker Butler : A Parisian Episode
- Ellis Parker Butler : A Pastoral
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- Robert Burns : Wounded Hare, The
- Robert Burns : Winter: A Dirge
- Robert Burns : Willie Wastle
- Robert Burns : Verses To Clarinda
- Robert Burns : Up In The Morning Early
- Robert Burns : Tragic Fragment
- Robert Burns : To The Wood-lark
- Robert Burns : To A Mouse
- Robert Burns : To A Mountain Daisy
- Robert Burns : To A Louse