  Air—"There grows a bonnie brier bush." Come see my scarlet rose-bush My father gied to me, That's growing in our window-sill Sae fresh and bonnilie; For a' the flowers I see, Nor for a pouchfu' o' red gowd, Sae dear it is to me. I set it in the best o' mould Ta'en frae the moudie's hill, And covered a' the yird wi' moss I gather'd on the hill; I saw the blue-bell blooming, And the gowan wat wi' dew, But my heart was on my rose-bush set, I left them where they grew. I water 't ilka morning Wi' meikle pride and care, And no a wither'd leaf I leave Upon its branches fair; Twa sprouts are rising frae the root, And four are on the stem, Three rosebuds and six roses blawn— 'Tis just a perfect gem! Come, see my bonnie, blooming bush My father gied to me, Wi' roses to the very top, And branches like a tree. It grows upon our window-sill, I watch it tentilie; O! I wadna gie my dear rose-bush For a' the flowers I see. |
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