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Poem by Robert Burns

Evan Banks

SLOW spreads the gloom my soul desire;
The sun from Indias shore retires:
To Evan banks with temprate ray,
Home of my youth, he leads the day.

Oh banks to me for ever dear!
Oh stream, whose murmurs still I hear!
All, all my hopes of bliss reside
Where Evan mingles with the Clyde.

And she, in simple beauty drest,
Whose image lives within my breast;
Who trembling heard my parting sigh,
And long pursued me with her eye:

Does she, with heart unchangd as mine,
Oft in the vocal bowers recline?
Or, where yon grot oerhangs the tide,
Muse while the Evan seeks the Clyde?

Ye lofty banks that Evan bound,
Ye lavish woods that wave around,
And oer the stream your shadows throw,
Which sweetly winds so far below;

What secret charm to memry brings
All that on Evans border springs!
Sweet banks! ye bloom by Marys side:
Blest stream! she views thee haste to Clyde.

Can all the wealth of Indias coast
Atone fore years in absence lost!
Return, ye moments of delight,
With richer treasures bless my sight!

Swift from this desert let me part,
And fly to meet a kindred heart!
No more may aught my steps divide
From that dear stream which flows to Clyde!

Robert Burns

Robert Burns's other poems:
  1. Lines Supposed to Have Been Written by Burns, and Forwarded to John Rankine, Ayrshire, Immediately after the Poets Decease
  2. Tam Glen
  3. On Commissary Goldies Brains
  4. Verses Addressed to J. Rankine
  5. Impromptu on an Innkeeper Named Bacon, Who Intruded Himself Into All Companies

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