The Banks of Nith

The Thames flows proudly to the sea, 
Where royal cities stately stand; 
But sweeter flows the Nith, to me, 
Where Cummins ance had high command:
When shall I see that honor'd land, 
That winding Stream I love so dear! 
Must wayward Fortune's adverse hand 
For ever, ever keep me here.

How lovely, Nith, thy fruitful vales, 
Where bounding hawthorns gayly 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!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s