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 e’enin sun.
Yon rosebuds in the morning dew,How pure, amang the leaves sae green;But purer was the lover’s vowThey 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 warld nor wish nor scorn,Its joys and griefs alike resign.