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‹‹‹ prev (163) Page 151Page 151By Allan Stream, &c

(165) next ››› Page 153Page 153Barrochan Jean

(164) Page 152 - Tweed-side
152 THE POCKET SONGSTER 5
But can they melt the glowing heart,
Or chain the soul in speechless pleasure,
Or through each nerve the rapture dart,
Like meeting her, our bosom's treasure ?
Burns.
TWEED-SIDE.
What beauties does Flora disclose ?
How sweet are her smiles upon Tweed ?
Yet Mary's still sweeter than those ;
Both nature and fancy exceed.
Nor daisy, nor sweet blooming rose,
Nor all the gay flowers of the field.
Nor Tweed gliding gently through those.
Such beauty and pleasure does yield.
The v^arblers are heard in the grove,
The linnet, the lark, and the thrush,
The blackbird and sweet cooing dove,
With music enchant every bush.
Come, let us go forth to the mead.
Let us see how the primroses spring ;
We'll lodge in some village on Tweed,
And love while the feather'd folk sing.
How does my love pass the long day ?
Does Mary not keep a few sheep ?
Do they never carelessly stray,
WTiile happily she lies asleep !

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