Oh, the summer moon is brightly blowing,
The wild birds wake their song,
And the streamlet as it softly murmurs,
So gently glides along.
Where the sweet hedge-rose is blowing,
In the woodlands green,
There I love to wander,
With my heart’s true queen—
My bonny, bonny Jean.
CHORUS.
Where the sweet hedge-rose is blowing,
In the woodlands green,
There I love to wander,
With my heart’s true queen.
Yet ’tis not the rosy tint of summer,
Nor the song-birds’ joyous lay,
Nor the streamlet’s murmuring music,
That makes my heart feel gay;
’Tis her smile that beams upon me,
’Mid each flowery scene,
While I fondly wander,
With my heart’s true queen,
My bonny, bonny Jean.
Bonny Jean, your smile is always with me,
When absent, love, from thee;
Making joy and sunshine round my pathway,
Wherever I may be.
May they ever beam upon me,
In this mortal scene,
While I fondly wander
With my heart’s true queen,
My bonny, bonny Jean.