Explore "Address to the Shade of Thomson" by Robert Burns on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
On Crowning His Bust at Ednam, Roxburghshire, with a Wreath of Bays.
While virgin Spring by Eden's flood, / Unfolds her tender mantle green, / Or pranks the sod in frolic mood, / Or tunes Eolian strains between.
While Summer, with a matron grace, / Retreats to Dryburgh's cooling shade, / Yet oft, delighted, stops to trace / The progress of the spiky blade.
While Autumn, benefactor kind, / By Tweed erects his aged head, / And sees, with self-approving mind, / Each creature on his bounty fed.
While maniac Winter rages o'er / The hills whence classic Yarrow flows, / Rousing the turbid torrent's roar, / Or sweeping, wild, a waste of snows.
So long, sweet Poet of the year! / Shall bloom that wreath thou well hast won; / While Scotia, with exulting tear, / Proclaims that Thomson was her son.