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Robert Burns: Ca´the Yowes to the Knowes (Kathleen Ferrier)

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CHORUS.—Ca’ the yowes to the knowes,
            Ca’ them where the heather grows,
            Ca’ them where the burnie rows,
                  My bonny dearie!
Hark! the mavis’ evening-sang
Sounding Cluden’s woods amang;
Then a faulding let us gang,
      My bonny dearie.
We ’ll gae down by Cluden side,
Through the hazels spreading wide,
O’er the waves that sweetly glide
      To the moon sae clearly.
Yonder Cluden’s silent towers,
Where at moonshine midnight hours,
O’er the dewy bending flowers,
      Fairies dance sae cheery.
Ghaist nor bogle shalt thou fear;
Thou ’rt to love and heaven sae dear,
Nocht of ill may come thee near,
      My bonny dearie.
Fair and lovely as thou art,
Thou hast stown my very heart;
I can die,—but canna part,
      My bonny dearie.
While waters wimple to the sea,
While day blinks in the lift sae hie,
Till clay-cauld death shall blin’ my ee,
      Ye shall be my dearie.


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