O BONIE was yon rosy brier,
That blooms sae far frae haunt o man;
And bonie she, and ah, how dear!
It shaded frae the eenin sun.
Yon rosebuds in the morning dew,
How pure, amang the leaves sae green;
But purer was the lovers vow
They witnessd in their shade yestreen.
All in its rude and prickly bower,
That crimson rose, how sweet and fair;
But love is far a sweeter flower,
Amid lifes thorny path o care.
The pathless, wild and wimpling burn,
Wi Chloris in my arms, be mine;
And I the warld nor wish nor scorn,
Its joys and griefs alike resign.
