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294 TONE-POETRY OF ROBERT BURNS |
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No. 313. The gloomy night is gatliring fast.
Tune: Roslin Castle Bremner's Scots Songs (2nd set), 1757, p. 27. |
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The gloomy night is gath'ring fast, Loud roars the wild, inconstant
blast; Yon murky cloud is foul with rain, I see it driving o'er the plain ; The hunter now has left the moor, The scatter'd coveys meet secure ; While here I wander, prest with care, • Along the lonely banks of Ayr. |
The Autumn mourns her rip'ning'
corn By early Winter's ravage torn ; Across her placid, azure sky, She sees the scowling tempest fly : Chill runs my blood to hear it
rave ; I think upon the stormy wave, Where many a danger I must dare, Far from the bonie banks of Ayr. |
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