THE BROOM O' THE
COWDENKNOWES
Traditional
How blithe each morn was I
tae see
My lass came o'er the hill.
She skipped the burn and ran tae me,
I met her with good will.
O the broom, the bonnie,
bonnie broom
The broom o' the cowdenknowes.
Fain would I be in the north country
Herding her father's ewes.
We neither herded ewes nor
lamb
While the flock near us lay.
She gathered in the sheep at night
And cheered me all the day.
Hard fate that I should
banished be
Gone way o'er hill and moor,
Because I loved the fairest lass
That ever yet was born.
Adieu, ye cowdenknowes,
adieu.
Farewell all pleasures there
To wander by her side again
Is all I crave or care.
