YON wandering rill that marks the hill,
And glances oer the brae, Sir,
Slides by a bower, where mony a flower
Sheds fragrance on the day, Sir;
There Damon lay, with Sylvia gay,
To love they thought no crime, Sir,
The wild birds sang, the echoes rang,
While Damons heart beat time, Sir.
334. SongFragmentDamon and Sylvia
written byRobert Burns
© Robert Burns