Bonnie Mary, the Maid o’ the Tay,
Come! Let’s go, and have a holiday
In Newport, on the braes o’ the silvery Tay,
‘Twill help to drive dull care away.
The scenery there is most enchanting to be seen,
Especially the fine mansions with their shrubbery green;
And the trees and ivy are beautiful to view
Growing in front of each stately home in the avenue.
There the little birds and beautiful butterflies
Are soaring heavenwards almost to the skies,
And the busy bees are to be seen on the wing,
As from flower to flower they hummingly sing,
As they gather honey all the day,
From flowery gardens of Newport on the braes o’ the Tay.
And as we view the gardens our hearts will feel gay
After being pent up in the workshop all the day.
Then there’s a beautiful spot near an old mill,
Suitable for an artist to paint of great skill,
And the trees are arched o’erhead, lovely to be seen,
Which screens ye from the sunshine’s glittering sheen.
Therefore, holiday makers, I’d have ye resort
To Newport on the braes o’ the Tay for sport,
And inhale the pure air with its sweet perfume,
Emanating from the flowery gardens of Newport and the yellow broom.
And when bright Sol sinks in the West
You’ll return home at night quite refreshed,
And dream in your beds of your rambles during the day
Along the bonnie braes o’ the silvery Tay.
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