O bonie was yon rosy brier,
That blooms sae far frae haunt o’ man;
And bonieshe, and ah, how dear!
It shaded fraethe e’enin sun.
Yonrosebuds in the morning dew,
How pure, amangthe leaves saegreen;
But purer was the lover’s vow
They witness’d in their shade yestreen.
All in its rude and prickly bower,
That crimson rose, how sweet and fair;
Butlove is far a sweeter flower,
Amid life’s thorny path o’care.
The pathless, wild and wimpling burn,
Wi’Chloris in my arms, be mine;
And I the warldnor wish nor scorn,
Its joys and griefs alike resign.