The broom of Cowdenknows
Haydn, Joseph
How blythe ilk morn was I to see
My swain come o'er the hill!
He skipt the burn, and flew to me,
I met him with good will.
O the broom, the bonny, bonny broom,
The broom of Cowdenknows;
I wish I were with my dear swain,
At hame to tend the ewes.
I wanted neither yowe nor lamb,
While his flock near me lay;
He gather'd in my sheep at night,
And cheer'd me a' the day.
O the broom,
etc.
He tun'd his pipe and reed sae sweet,
The birds stood list'ning by;
Ev'n the dull cattle stood and gaz'd,
Charm'd with his melody.
O the broom,
etc.
While thus we spent our time, by turns,
Betwixt our flocks and play,
I envied not the fairest dame,
Though e'er so rich or gay.
O the broom,
etc.
Hard fate that I should banish'd be,
Gang heavily, and mourn,
Because I loved the kindest swain
That ever yet was born.
O the broom,
etc.
He did oblige me every hour;
Could I but faithful be?
He stawe my heart; could I refuse
Whate'er he ask'd of me?
O the broom,
etc.
My doggie, and my little kit
That held my wee soup whey,
My plaidie, brooch, and crookit stick,
May now lie useless by.
O the broom,
etc.
Adieu, ye Cowdenknows, adieu!
Farewell a' pleasures there!
Ye gods, restore me to my swain,
Is a' I crave or care!
O the broom,
etc.