Classic Poem

Ye sunny braes that skirt the Clyde,
Wi' summer flow'rs sae braw,
There's ae sweet flow'r on Levern side,
That's fairer than them a':
Yet aye it droops its head in wae,
Regardless o' the sunny ray,
And wastes its sweets frae day to day,
Beside the lonely shaw;
Wi' leaves a' steep'd in sorrow's dew,
Fause, cruel man, it seems to rue,
Wha oft the sweetest flow'r will pu',
Then rend its heart in twa.

Thou bonny flow'r on Levern side.
O gin thou'lt be but mine;
I'll tend thee wi' a lover's pride,
Wi' love that ne'er shall tyne;
I'll take thee to my shelt'ring bow'r,
And shield thee frae the beating show'r,
Unharm'd by ought thou'lt bloom secure
Frae a' the blasts that blaw:
Thy charms surpass the crimson dye
That streaks the glowing western sky,
But here, unshaded, soon thoul't die,
And lone will be thy fa'.