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SONGS

AND

BALLAD S.

SONGS, &c.

EVAN BANKS.

SLOW spreads the gloom my soul desires,
The sun from India's shore retires;
To Evan Banks, with temp'rate ray,
Home of my youth, he leads the day.
Oh banks to me for ever dear!
Oh streams 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 unchang'd as mine,
Oft in the vocal bowers recline?

Or where yon grot o'erhangs the tide,
Muse while the Evan seeks the Clyde ?

Ye lofty banks that Evan bound!
Ye lavish woods that wave around,

And

And o'er the stream your shadows throw,
Which sweetly winds so far below;
What secret charm to mem'ry brings,
All that on Evan's border springs;

Sweet banks! ye bloom by Mary's side:
Blest stream! she views thee haste to Clyde.--

Can all the wealth of India's coast
Atone for years in absence lost?
Return, ye moments of delight,
With richer treasures bless my sight!
Swift from this desart let me part,
And fly to meet a kindred heart!

Nor more may ought my steps divide

From that dear stream which flows to Clyde.

SONG.

AE fond kiss, and then we sever;

Ae fareweel, alas, for ever!

Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and
groans I'll wage thee.

Who shall say that fortune grieves him
While the star of hope she leaves him?
Me, nae chearfu' twinkle lights me;
Dark despair around benights me.

I'll

I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy,
Naething could resist my Nancy:
But to see her, was to love her;
Love but her, and love for ever.
Had we never lov'd sae kindly,
Had we never lov'd sae blindly,
Never met or never parted,
We had ne'er been broken-hearted.

Fare thee weel, thou first and fairest!
Fare thee weel, thou best and dearest!
Thine be ilka joy and treasure,
Peace, enjoyment, love, and pleasure!
Ae fond kiss, and then we sever;
Ae fareweel, alas, for ever!

Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.

SONG.

PATRIOTIC-unfinished.

HERE's a health to them that's awa,

Here's a health to them that's awa;
And wha winna wish gude luck to our cause,
May never gude luck be their fa'*!

* Fa'-lot.

It's

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