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