SING ON, SING ON, MY BONNY BIRD. SING on, sing on, my bonny bird, The sang ye sung yestreen, O, When here, aneath the hawthorn wild, My blude ran prinklin' through my veins, My hair begoud to steer, O; My heart play'd deep against my breast, When I beheld my dear, O! O weel's me on my happy lot, O weel's me o' the charming spot Where a' combined to cheer me! The mavis liltit on the bush, The laverock o'er the green, O, But a' war nought to Jean, O! Sing on, sing on, my bonny thrush, Be nouther fley'd nor eerie ; I'll wad your love sits in the bush, She may be kind, she may be sweet, If love wad open a' her stores, An' bid me rise, an' turn an' choose, The auburn hair, the bosom fair, A bramble shade around our head, Our bed the sward, our sheet the plaid, Our canopy the sky, O! Sing on, sing on, my bonny thrush, Be nouther fley'd nor eerie ; I'll wad your love sits in the bush, She may be kind, she may be sweet, If love wad open a' her stores, My choice wad be the rosy cheek, The auburn hair, the bosom fair, A bramble shade around our head, Our bed the sward, our sheet the plaid, Our canopy the sky, O! |