Explore "The Banks of the Devon" by Robert Burns on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Tune-"Bhanarach dhonn a' chruidh."
How pleasant the banks of the clear winding Devon, / With green spreading bushes and flow'rs blooming fair! / But the boniest flow'r on the banks of the Devon / Was once a sweet bud on the braes of the Ayr. / Mild be the sun on this sweet blushing flower, / In the gay rosy morn, as it bathes in the dew; / And gentle the fall of the soft vernal shower, / That steals on the evening each leaf to renew!
O spare the dear blossom, ye orient breezes, / With chill hoary wing as ye usher the dawn; / And far be thou distant, thou reptile that seizes / The verdure and pride of the garden or lawn! / Let Bourbon exult in his gay gilded lilies, / And England triumphant display her proud rose: / A fairer than either adorns the green valleys, / Where Devon, sweet Devon, meandering flows.