Page:Canary.pdf/35

35

The broom, the brier, the birken bush,
Bloom bonny o'er thy flow'ry lea,
An' a' the sweets that yin can wish
Frae nature's han' are strewed on thee.

Far ben thy dark green plantin's shade,
The cushat croodles am'rously,
The mavis down thy bughted glade,
Gars echos ring frae ev'ry tree.
Thou bonny wood, &c.

⟨Awa'⟩, ye thoughtless murd'ring gang,
Wha tear the nestlings ere they flee!
They'll sing you yet a canty sang,
⟨Then⟩, O in pity let them be!
Thou bonny wood, &c.

When winter blaws in sleety show'rs,
⟨Frae⟩ aff the norlin hills fae hi',
⟨He⟩ lightly skiffs thy bonny bow'rs,
⟨As⟩ laith to harm a flow'r in thee.
Thou bonny wood, &c.

⟨Though⟩ fate should drag me south the line,
⟨Or⟩ o'er the wide Atlantic sea,
⟨The⟩ happy hours I'll ever min'
⟨That⟩ I in youth ha'e spent in thee.
Thou bonny wood, &c.