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