Explore "The Banks o' Doon (First Version)" by Robert Burns on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Sweet are the banks-the banks o' Doon, / The spreading flowers are fair, / And everything is blythe and glad, / But I am fu' o' care. / Thou'll break my heart, thou bonie 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 bonie bird, / That sings beside thy mate; / For sae I sat, and sae I sang, / And wist na o' my fate.
Aft hae I rov'd by bonie Doon, / To see the woodbine twine; / And ilka birds sang o' its Luve, / And sae did I o' mine: / Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose, / Upon its thorny tree; / But my fause Luver staw my rose / And left the thorn wi' me: / Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose, / Upon a morn in June; / And sae I flourished on the morn, / And sae was pu'd or noon!