Slow spreads the gloom my soul desires The sun from India's shore retires: To Evan banks with temp'rate ray Home of my youth, he leads the day Oh banks to me for ever dear! Oh stream, whose murmurs still I hear! All, all my hopes of bliss reside Where Evan mingles with the Clyde And she, in simple beauty drest Whose image lives within my...Learn More

Yon wild mossy mountains sae lofty and wide That nurse in their bosom the youth o' the Clyde Where the grouse lead their coveys thro' the heather to feed And the shepherd tents his flock as he pipes on his reed Not Gowrie's rich valley nor Forth's sunny shores To me hae the charms o' yon wild, mossy moors; For there, by a lanely, sequesterèd clear...Learn More