Isle of St Helena/Banks of Doon
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BANKS OF DOON.
⟨Ye⟩ banks and braes of bonny Doon,
How can ye bloom so fresh and fair,
⟨How⟩ can your blue stream row so clear;
When I'm so weary fu’ o’ care.
⟨Ye’ll⟩ break my heart, ye little birds,
That wanton on yon flow’ry thorn,
⟨Ye⟩ mind me of departed joys,
Departed never to return.
How can ye bloom so fresh and fair,
⟨How⟩ can your blue stream row so clear;
When I'm so weary fu’ o’ care.
⟨Ye’ll⟩ break my heart, ye little birds,
That wanton on yon flow’ry thorn,
⟨Ye⟩ mind me of departed joys,
Departed never to return.
Aft have I roam'd by bonny Doon,
To see the rose and woodbine twine,
Whar ilka bird sang of its love,
And sae did I wi’ glee of mine.
Wi' lightsome heart I pu’d a rose,
The sweetest on its thorny tree,
But my false love has stown the rose,
And oh she’s left the thorn wi’ me!
To see the rose and woodbine twine,
Whar ilka bird sang of its love,
And sae did I wi’ glee of mine.
Wi' lightsome heart I pu’d a rose,
The sweetest on its thorny tree,
But my false love has stown the rose,
And oh she’s left the thorn wi’ me!