YON wandering rill that marks the hill,
And glances o’er the brae, Sir,
Slides by a bower, where mony a flower
Sheds fragrance on the day, Sir;
There Damon lay, with Sylvia gay,
To love they thought no crime, Sir,
The wild birds sang, the echoes rang,
While Damon’s heart beat time, Sir.
(Robert Burns)
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Based on Topics: Time Poems, Flowers Poems, Crime PoemsBased on Keywords: birds, yon, sang, rang, bower, beat, sir, wandering, marks, echoes, fragrance