Oh the broom, the bonny bonny broom Broom of the Cowdenknowes ‘Fain would I be in my old country Herding my father's ewes Hard fate that I should banished be Gone from hill and moor Because I loved the fairest lad that ever yet was born How blithe each morn was I to see My love come over the hill He tripped the burn and ran to me and I met him with good will Oh the broom, the bonny bonny broom Broom of the Cowdenknowes ‘Fain would I be in my old country Herding my father's ewes Farewell ye Cowdenknowes, farewell Farewell all pleasures there To wander by his side again is all I crave or care Oh the broom, the bonny bonny broom Broom of the Cowdenknowes ‘Fain would I be in my own country Herding my father's ewes Oh the broom, the bonny bonny broom Broom of the Cowdenknowes ‘Fain would I be in my own country Herding my father's ewes Herding my father's ewes Herding my father's ewes