Читать книгу Come Hither: A Collection of Rhymes and Poems for the Young of All Ages - Various - Страница 64

Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon,

How can ye bloom sae fair?

How can ye chant, ye little birds,

And I sae fu' o' care?

Thou'll break my heart, thou bonnie 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 bonnie bird

That sings beside thy mate;

For sae I sat, and sae I sang,

And wist na o' my fate.

Aft hae I roved by bonnie Doon

To see the woodbine twine,

And ilka[48] bird sang o' its love;

And sae did I o' mine.

Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose,

Frae aff its thorny tree;

And my fause luver staw[49] the rose,

But left the thorn wi' me.

Robert Burns

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