O the evening's for the fair, bonny la**ie O!
To meet the cooler air and walk an angel there,
With the dark dishevelled hair,
Bonny la**ie O!
The bloom's on the brere, bonny la**ie O!
Oak apples on the tree; and wilt thou gang to see
The shed I've made for thee,
Bonny la**ie O!
Tis agen the running brook, bonny la**ie O!
In a gra**y nook hard by, with a little patch of sky,
And a bush to keep us dry,
Bonny la**ie O!
There's the daisy all the year, bonny la**ie O!
There's the king-cup bright as gold, and the speedwell never cold,
And the arum leaves unrolled,
Bonny la**ie O!
O meet me at the shed, bonny la**ie O!
With a woodbine peeping in, and the roses like thy skin
Blushing, thy praise to win,
Bonny la**ie O!
I will meet thee there at e'en, bonny la**ie O!
When the bee sips in the bean, and grey willow branches lean,
And the moonbeam looks between,
Bonny la**ie O!