English poetry

Poems in English


449. Song-The Flowery banks of Cree

HERE is the glen, and here the bower
All underneath the birchen shade;
The village-bell has told the hour,
O what can stay my lovely maid?

‘Tis not Maria’s whispering call;
‘Tis but the balmy breathing gale,
Mixt with some warbler’s dying fall,
The dewy star of eve to hail.

It is Maria’s voice I hear;
So calls the woodlark in the grove,
His little, faithful mate to cheer;
At once ’tis music and ’tis love.

And art thou come! and art thou true!
O welcome dear to love and me!
And let us all our vows renew,
Along the flowery banks of Cree.


1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (1 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)

Poem 449. Song-The Flowery banks of Cree - Robert Burns