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Ye Banks And Braes O' Bonnie Doon
Ye banks and braes o'
bonnie Doon How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair? How can ye chaunt, ye
little birds And I sae weary full o' care?
Ye'll break my heart, ye
warbling bird That wantons thro' the flow'ry thorn Ye mind o' departed
joys Departed never to return.
Oft hae I roved by bonnie Doon To see the rose and woodbine twine And
ilka bird sang o' its love And fondly sae did I o' mine
Wi' lightsome
heart I pu'd a rose Full sweet upon its thorny tree And my fause lover
stole my rose But ah! he left the thorn wi' me.
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