Robert Burns

The Banks of Nith (THE THAMES flows proudly to the sea)

THE THAMES flows proudly to the sea,
  Where royal cities stately stand;
But sweeter flows the Nith, to me,
  Where Cummins ance had high command.
When shall I see that honored land,
  That winding stream I love so dear!
Must wayward fortune’s adverse hand
  Forever, ever keep me here?

How lovely, Nith, thy fruitful vales,
  Where spreading hawthorns gaily bloom!
How sweetly wind thy sloping dales,
  Where lambkins wanton through the broom!
Though wandering, now, must be my doom,
  Far from thy bonny banks and braes,
May there my latest hours consume,
  Amang the friends of early days!