Robert Burns (1759–1796). Poems and Songs.
The Harvard Classics. 1909–14.
266 . SongThe Banks of Nith
T
Where royal cities stately stand;
But sweeter flows the Nith to me,
Where Comyns ance had high command.
That winding stream I love so dear! Must wayward Fortune’s adverse hand For ever, ever keep me here! Where bounding hawthorns gaily bloom; And sweetly spread thy sloping dales, Where lambkins wanton through the broom. Tho’ wandering now must be my doom, Far from thy bonie banks and braes, May there my latest hours consume, Amang the friends of early days!