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The Banks of Tay THE SHIP is on its seaward path, An’ frae the shore the breezes blaw; Now Scotland’s cliffs sae dear to me Aneath the wavin’ waters fa’. My hame is growin’ far awa’, It lies aneath yon hill-tap gray; Yon last-seen spot o’ Scotland’s soil That rises by the banks of Tay. Fareweel, ye mossy fountains wild! Where you fair stream doth softly rin: To ilka wildwood-shaded pool To ilka tumblin’ roarin’ linn; To ilka burnie that doth win Through heathery muirs its silent way,— I bid fareweel; for now my hame Is biggit far frae bonnie Tay. Fareweel, ye hames o’ pure delight, That I ha’e lo’ed sae weel and lang! Ye simmer birdies! ye maun sing To others now your cheering sang! Fareweel, ye holms, where lovers gang Upon the peaceful Sabbath-day: In youth I loved, in age I ’ll mind, The green an’ bonny banks of Tay. Be blessin’s on ilk cot an’ ha’ That by thy braes o’ hazel rise; Be a’ thing bonnie where thou rins, An’ a’ thing happy ’neath thy skies. Though far frae thee my boatie flies, The friends I love beside thee stray; My heart fu’ dead an’ cauld will be Ere I forget the banks of Tay. The streams are wide where I am gaun, An’ on they row through boundless woods; But dearer is thy Hieland wave Than yonder wild and foreign floods. Thy haughs sae green,—the simmer clouds That o’er thy sheltered hamlets stray,— I ’ll mind for love an’ friendship’s sake: Fareweel, ye bonnie banks of Tay. Robert Nicoll's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1200 |
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