Poem by Robert Burns

The Banks of Nith (To thee, lov’d Nith, thy gladsome plains)

To thee, lov’d Nith, thy gladsome plains,
  Where late wi’ careless thought I rang’d,
Though prest wi’ care and sunk in woe,
  To thee I bring a heart unchang’d.

I love thee, Nith, thy banks and braes,
  Tho’ mem’ry there my bosom tear;
For there he rov’d that brake my heart,
  Yet to that heart, ah, still how dear!

1. The Bonnie Wee Thing
2. Farewell, Thou Stream
3. Sleep’st Thou, or Wak’st Thou
4. Craigieburn Wood
5. Lines Written under the Picture of Miss Burns

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