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Robert Burns (1759–1796).  Poems and Songs.
The Harvard Classics.  1909–14.
 
426. Song—By Allan Stream
 
 
BY Allan stream I chanc’d to rove,
  While Phoebus sank beyond Benledi;
The winds are whispering thro’ the grove,
  The yellow corn was waving ready:
I listen’d to a lover’s sang,        5
  An’ thought on youthfu’ pleasures mony;
And aye the wild-wood echoes rang—
  “O, dearly do I love thee, Annie!
 
“O, happy be the woodbine bower,
  Nae nightly bogle make it eerie;        10
Nor ever sorrow stain the hour,
  The place and time I met my Dearie!
Her head upon my throbbing breast,
  She, sinking, said, ‘I’m thine for ever!’
While mony a kiss the seal imprest—        15
  The sacred vow we ne’er should sever.”
 
The haunt o’ Spring’s the primrose-brae,
  The Summer joys the flocks to follow;
How cheery thro’ her short’ning day,
  Is Autumn in her weeds o’ yellow;        20
But can they melt the glowing heart,
  Or chain the soul in speechless pleasure?
Or thro’ each nerve the rapture dart,
  Like meeting her, our bosom’s treasure?
 

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