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The Song Book
While o'er their heads the hazels hing, The little birdies blythely sing, Or lightly flit on wanton wing
In the Birks of Aberfeldy.
Bonie lassie, will ye go, Will ye go, will ye go, Bonie lassie will ye go
To the Birks of Aberfeldy ? The braes ascend like lofty wa's, The foaming stream deep roaring fa's, O'er-hung wi' fragrant spreading shaws, The Birks of Aberfeldy.
Bonie lassie, will ye go, Will ye go, will ye go, Bonie lassie, will ye go
To the Birks of Aberfeldy ? The hoary cliffs are crown'd wi' flowers, White o'er the linns the burnie pours, And rising, weets wi' misty showers The Birks of Aberfeldy.
Bonie lassie, will ye go, Will ye go, will ye go, Bonie lassie, will ye go
To the Birks of Aberfeldy ? Let Fortune's gifts at random flee, They ne'er shall draw a wish frae me, Supremely blest wi' love and thee, In the Birks of Aberfeldy.
Words by Burns.
tune The Birks of A berfeldy. |
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