Within the bush her covert nest Sae early in the morning. She soon shall see her tender brood, So thou, dear bird, young Jeany fair, So thou, sweet Rose-bud, young and gay, EPITAPH FOR MR. W. CRUIKSHANK' HONEST WILL to Heaven's away And mony shall lament him; His fau'ts they a' in Latin lay, In English nane e'er kent them. SONG-THE BANKS OF THE DEVON How pleasant the banks of the clear winding Devon, In the gay rosy morn, as it bathes in the dew; 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. BRAVING ANGRY WINTER'S STORMS WHERE, braving angry winter's storms, Far in their shade my Peggy's charms Astonish'd, doubly marks it beam Blest be the wild, sequester'd shade, SONG MY PEGGY'S CHARMS My Peggy's face, my Peggy's form, The Living Room in the Burns Birthplace Cottage This is one of the three rooms that comprise the little low stone cottage two or three miles out of Ayr, in which Burns was born. Two of the rooms are living-rooms, and the third was used as a shelter for the cows. Thousands visit the cottage every year |