The Birks

Earlier today I had the pleasure of listening to my son recite (over and over again) the Robert Burns poem/song The Birks of Aberfeldy.

It was a school project. He had to memorize it and recite it aloud, preferrably with a solid Scottish accent. And in dialect!

The Birks are a stream side walk about ten minutes from where we live at the moment, in Perthshire, Scotland. Very pretty, waterfalls and lovely old trees and a statue of Burns sitting on a bench. (The statue kinda freaks our dog, Saba, out a bit.)

Here are the melodious choruses Sage regaled us with:

The Birks of Abergeldie.

Bony lassie, will ye go,
Will ye go, will ye go;
Bony lassie, will ye go
To the birks of Aberfeldy.

Now Simmer blinks on flowery braes,
And o'er the chrystal streamlets plays;
Come let us spend the lightsome days
In the birks of Aberfeldy.

The little birdies blythely sing
While o'er their heads the hazels hing,
Or lightly flit on wanton wing,
In the birks of Aberfeldy.

The braes ascend like lofty wa's,
The foamy stream deep-roaring fa's,
O'erhung wi' fragrant spreading shaws,
The birks of Aberfeldy.

The hoary cliffs are crown'd wi' flowers,
White o'er the linns the burnie pours,
And rising, weets wi' misty showers
The birks of Aberfeldy.

Let Fortune's gifts at random flee,
They ne'er shall draw a wish frae me;
Supremely blest wi' love and thee,
In the birks of Aberfeldy.

Bony lassie, will ye go,
Will ye go, will ye go;
Bony lassie, will ye go
To the birks of Aberfeldy.

Personally, I think the bony lassie is quite likely to go with him...

There's more on the Birks of Aberfeldy HERE.