Poem by Robert Burns

Address to the Shade of Thomson, on Crowning His Bust at Ednam, Roxburgh-Shire, with Bays

WHILE virgin Spring, by Eden’s flood,  
  Unfolds her tender mantle green,
Or pranks the sod in frolic mood,
  Or tunes Eolian Strains between;

While Summer with a matron grace
  Retreats to Dryburgh’s cooling shade,
Yet oft, delighted, stops to trace
  The progress of the spiky blade;

While Autumn, benefactor kind,
  By Tweed erects his aged head,
And sees, with self-approving mind,
  Each creature on his bounty fed;

While maniac Winter rages o’er
  The hills whence classic Yarrow flows,
Rousing the turbid torrent’s roar,
  Or sweeping, wild, a waste of snows;

So long, sweet poet of the year,
  Shall bloom that wreath thou well hast won;
While Scotia, with exulting tear,
  Proclaims that Thomson was her son.

1. I Gaed a Waefu' Gate Yestreen
2. Blythe Was She
3. Farewell to Ballochmyle
4. Farewell, Thou Stream
5. Stay My Charmer

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