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Poems and Songs of Robert Burns
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.m.hzGJJx.Com