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How Blithe each morn was I to see |
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My lad come over the hill |
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He skipped the burn and ran to me |
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I met him with good will |
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Oh the broom, the bonnie, bonnie broom |
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Broom or the Cowdenknowes |
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Fain would I be in the North Country |
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Herding his father's ewes |
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We neither herded ewes nor lamb |
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While the flock near us lay |
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He gathered in the sheep at night |
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And cheered me all the day |
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Oh the broom, the bonnie, bonnie broom |
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Broom or the Cowdenknowes |
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Fain would I be in the North Country |
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Herding his father's ewes |
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Hard fate that I should banished be |
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Gone way over hill and moor |
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Because I loved the fairest lad |
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That ever yet was born |
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Oh the broom, the bonnie, bonnie broom |
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Broom or the Cowdenknowes |
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Fain would I be in the North Country |
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Herding his father's ewes |
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Adieu, ye Cowdenknowes, adieu |
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Farewell all pleasures there |
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To wander by his side again |
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Is all I crave or care |
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Oh the broom, the bonnie, bonnie broom |
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Broom or the Cowdenknowes |
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Fain would I be in the North Country |
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Herding his father's ewes |
