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Poem by Robert Burns


Adown Winding Nith


ADOWN winding Nith I did wander,
  To mark the sweet flowers as they spring;
Adown winding Nith I did wander,
  Of Phillis to muse and to sing.

  Awa wi your belles and your beauties,
    They never wi her can compare;
  Whaever has met wi my Phillis,
    Has met wi the queen o the fair.

The daisy amusd my fond fancy,
  So artless, so simple, so wild;
Thou emblem, said I, o my Phillis,
  For she is Simplicitys child.

The rose-buds the blush o my charmer,
  Her sweet balmy lip when tis prest:
How fair and how pure is the lily,
  But fairer and purer her breast.

Yon knot of gay flowers in the arbour,
  They neer wi my Phillis can vie:
Her breath is the breath o the woodbine,
  Its dew-drop o diamond her eye.

Her voice is the song of the mornin
  That wakes through the green-spreading grove,
When Phoebus peeps over the mountains,
  On music, and pleasure, and love.

But beauty how frail and how fleeting!
  The bloom of a fine summers day!
While worth in the mind o my Phillis
  Will flourish without a decay.



                      Robert Burns


Robert Burns's other poems:
  1. Scroggam
  2. Lines Written on a Bank-note
  3. Lines Written at Loudon Manse
  4. To Alex Cunningham, Writer
  5. How Lang And Dreary


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