Ye Banks and Braes.

Aft ha'e 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,
Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree;
Bit my fanse lover stole my rose,
And ah! he left the thorn wi' me.