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Ye banks and braes
C G C F Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon, C F G G7 How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair; C G C F How can ye chant, ye little birds, C F G C And I sae weary, fu' o' care! C C C C Thou'lt break my heart, thou warbling bird, C Am G G That wantons thro' the flowering thorn: C G C F Thou minds me o' departed joys, C F G C Departed -- never to return! Aft hae I rov'd by bonnie Doon, To see the rose and woodbine twine; And ilka bird sang o' its luve, And fondly sae did I o' mine. Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose, Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree; And my fause luver stole my rose, But, ah! he left the thorn wi' me.
til oversigtenOpdateret d. 04.05.2021