* * * O BONNIE was yon rosy brier, That blooms sae fair frae haunt o’ man; And bonnie she, and ah, how dear! It shaded frae the e’enin sun. Yon rosebuds in the morning dew, How pure amang the leaves sae green; 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! But love 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 world nor wish nor scorn, Its joys and griefs alike resign. |
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