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.

Chorus:
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