The Broom of the Cowdenknows

How blithe was I each morn to see
My love come o'er the hill.
I jumped the stream, and she flew to me,
And met me with good will.

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Oh, the broom, the bonny, bonny broom,
The broom of the Cowdenknows.
I wish I was in my own homeland,
There with my own true love.

I worried not for ewes or lambs,
While both our flocks near me lay.
I gathered in our sheep at night,
And she cheered me all the day.

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She tuned her harp, and strummed so sweet,
The birds stood listening by.
E'en the dull cattle stood and gazed,
Charmed by her melody.

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While, thus, we spent our time by turns,
Betwixt our flocks and play,
I envied not the fairest lad,
Though ne'er so rich and gay.

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She did oblige me every hour,
Could I but faithful be?
She stole my heart, could I refuse,
What e'er she asked of me?

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Hard fate that I should banished be,
Gang heavily with morn,
Because I loved the dearest lass,
That ever yet was born.

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Adieu, ye Cowdenknows adieu,
Farewell all pleasures there.
Ye gods restore me to my love
Is all I want or care.

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