1.
Sweet are the banks, the banks o' Doon,
The spreading flowers are fair,
And everything is blythe and glad,
But I am fu' o' care.
Thou'll break my heart, thou bonie bird,
That sings upon the bough!
Thou minds me o' the happy days
When my fause Luve was true.
Thou'll break my heart, thou bonie bird,
That sings beside thy mate,
For sae I sat, and sae I sang,
And wist na o' my fate!
2.
Aft hae I rov'd by bonie Doon,
To see the woodbine twine,
And ilka bird sang o' its luve,
And sae did I o' mine.
Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose
Upon its thorny tree,
But my fause luver staw my rose,
And left the thorn wi' me.
Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose
Upon a morn in June,
And sae I flourish'd on the morn,
And sae was pu'd or noon.

Sweet are the banks, the banks of Doon,
The spreading flowers are fair,
And everything is blithe and glad,
But I am full of care.
You will break my heart, you lovely bird,
That sings upon the bough!
You remind me of the happy days
When my false Love was true.
You will break my heart, you lovely bird,
That sings beside your mate,
For so I sat, and so I sang,
And knew not of my fate!

Often have I roved by lovely Doon,
To see the woodbine twine,
And each bird sang of its love,
And so did I of mine.
With lightsome heart I pulled a rose
Upon its thorny tree,
But my false lover stole my rose,
And left the thorn with me.
With lightsome heart I pulled a rose
Upon a morning in June,
And so I flourished on the morning,
And so was pulled before noon.