How blithe each morn, was I tae see,My lass come o’er the hill.She skipped the burn, and ran tae me,I met he wi’ good will. ChorusO the broom, the bonnie, bonnie broom, The broom o’ the Cowdenknowes, Fain would I be in the north country, Herding her father’s yows. We neither herded lamb nor yow, While the flock near us lay, She gathered in the sheep at night, And cheered me a’ the day. Chorus Hard fate that I should banished be, Gone way o’er hill and moor, Because I loved the fairest lass, That ever yet was born. Chorus Adieu ye Cowdenknowes, Adieu, Farewell a’ pleasure there, To wander by her side again, Is a’ I crave or care. Chorus  blithe: happy tae: to o’er: over burn: small stream yow: ewe wi’: with a’: all