How blithe each morn was I tae see My lass came o'er the hill She tripped the burn and ran tae me I met her wi' good will CHORUS: Oh the broom, the bonnie, bonnie broom The broom o' the cowdenknowes Fain would I be in my own country Herding my father's ewes Hard fate that I should banished be Gone way o'er hill and moor Because I loved the...Learn More