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. Their Groves O’ sweet Myrtle
2. The Bonnie Wee Thing
3. As Down the Burn They Took Their Way
4. Gala Water
5. Stay My Charmer

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