24
Killock Burn.
All hail, ye ⟨dear⟩ romantic scenes,
Where ⟨oft, as eve stole⟩ o'er the sky
You've found me by the ⟨mountain streams,⟩
Where blooming wild flow'rs ⟨charm the eye.⟩
Where ⟨oft, as eve stole⟩ o'er the sky
You've found me by the ⟨mountain streams,⟩
Where blooming wild flow'rs ⟨charm the eye.⟩
⟨The sun's now setting in the west,—⟩
Mild are ⟨his beams on hill and plain;⟩
No sound is heard, save Killoch burn,
Wild murmuring down its woody glen.
Mild are ⟨his beams on hill and plain;⟩
No sound is heard, save Killoch burn,
Wild murmuring down its woody glen.
Green be thy banks, thou silver stream,
That winds the Farneze braes ⟨among,⟩
Where oft I've woo'd the Scottish muse,
And 'raptur'd wove the rustic sang.
That winds the Farneze braes ⟨among,⟩
Where oft I've woo'd the Scottish muse,
And 'raptur'd wove the rustic sang.
FINIS.
H. Crawford, Printer.
