Bundle and Go/Donald and Mary

DONALD AND MARY.

Young Mary sang wi‘ love in her e‘e,
⁠Beneath the bonny hawthorn tree,
That blooms out o'er yon flowery lee,
⁠Beside the burn sae cheerie, O.

⁠O! whar is gane my ain lad,
⁠My braw lad, my bonny lad,
⁠O! whar is gane my ain lad,
⁠That lo'ed me ever dearly, O.

Young Donald was a bonny lad,
⁠Dress'd in his silk and tartan plaid,
An' aye he made my heart fu' glad,
⁠While aft he kiss'd me cheerie, O.

Fu' trig he was at kirk or fair,
⁠There's nane wi' him I could compare,
An' I was sure aye to be there,
⁠Alang then wi' my dearie, O.

But when my love did pleasing smile,
⁠The sodgers did his heart beguile,
An' tore him frae me mony a mile,
⁠An' gart him le'e his dearie,⁠.

But still I‘ll wait and ne'er repine.
⁠While fortune still may on me shine,
An‘ bring him back to mak him mine,
⁠An' never leave his dearie, O.

While thus she sang an' made a mane,
⁠Waefu' sitting a‘ her lane,
Her lad unken'd come back again,
⁠The lad she Lo‘d sae dearly, O.
⁠But still she sang, my, &c.

While there he kiss'd her cherry mou,
⁠Her wonted colour frae her flew,
An' half o'ercome her Donald knew,
⁠That lo'ed her ever dearly, O.
⁠An' then she sang, my, &c.

There many a blush glow'd on her cheek,
⁠A tear did then her love bespeak,
An' baith their hearts did fondness beat.
⁠That each had found their dearie, O.
⁠Nae mair she sang, my, &c.

An' now behind the hawthorn tree,
⁠Baith they live frae sorrow free,
An' never till the day she'll die.
⁠She'll sing again sae eerie, O.
⁠O! where is gane, my, &c.