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The gloomy night is gathering fast,
Loud roars the wild inconstant blast,
Yon murky cloud is foul with rain,
I see it driving o'er the plain;
The hunter now has left the moor,
The scattered coveys meet secure,
While here I wander, prest with care,
Along the lonely banks of Ayr.

The Autumn mourns her ripening corn
By early Winter's ravage torn ;
Across her placid, azure sky,
She sees the scowling tempest fly :
Chill runs my blood to hear it rave,
I think upon the stormy wave,
Where many a danger I must dare,
Far from the bonnie banks of Ayr.

'Tis not the surging billow's roar,
'Tis not that fatal, deadly shore;
Though death in every shape appear,
The wretched have no more to fear :

But round my heart the ties are bound,
That heart transpierced with many a wound:
These bleed afresh, those ties I tear,
To leave the bonnie banks of Ayr.

Farewell, old Coila's hills and dales,
Her heathy moors and winding vales;
The scenes where wretched fancy roves,
Pursuing past, unhappy loves !
Farewell, my friends ! farewell, my foes !
My peace with these, my love with those,
The bursting tears my heart declare,
Farewell, the bonnie banks of Ayr!



The wintry west extends his blast,

And hail and rain does blaw;
Or, the stormy north sends driving forth

The blinding sleet and snaw :
While, tumbling brown, the burn* comes down,

And roars frae bank to brae : And bird and beast in covert rest And pass the heartless day.

* Brook.

The sweeping blast, the sky o'ercast,

The joyless winter day,
Let others fear, to me more dear

Than all the pride of May :
The tempest's howl, it soothes my soul,

My griefs it seems to join;
The leafless trees my fancy please,

Their fate resembles mine!

Thou Power Supreme, whose mighty scheme

These woes of mine fulfil,
Here, firm, I rest, they must be best,

Because they are Thy will !
Then all I want (Oh ! do thou grant

This one request of mine !)
Since to enjoy Thou dost deny,
Assist me to resign.



The smiling Spring comes in rejoicing,

And surly Winter grimly flies :
Now crystal clear are the falling waters,

And bonnie blue are the sunny skies ; Fresh o'er the mountains breaks forth the

morning, The evening gilds the ocean's swell ; All creatures joy in the sun's returning,

And I rejoice in my bonnie Bell.

The flowery Spring leads sunny Summer,

And yellow Autumn presses near, Then in his turn comes gloomy Winter,

Till smiling Spring again appear. Thus seasons dancing, life advancing,

Old Time and Nature their changes tell, But never ranging, still unchanging I adore my bonnie Bell.



My mind to me a kingdom is;

Such perfect joy therein I find, As far exceeds all earthly bliss

That world affords, or grows by kind : Though much I want what most men have, Yet doth my mind forbid me crave.

Content I live—this is my stay;

I seek no more than may sufficeI press to bear no haughty sway;

Look—what I lack my mind supplies. Lo! thus I triumph like a king, Content with that my mind doth bring.

I see how plenty surfeits oft,

And hasty climbers oft do fall; I see how those that sit aloft

Mishap doth threaten most of all ; They get—they toil—they spend with care: Such cares my mind could never bear.

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