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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
Scotland: Vols. VI–VIII. 1876–79.



By Robert Burns (1759–1796)

STREAMS that glide in Orient plains,

Never bound by winter’s chains;

Glowing here on golden sands,

There commixed with foulest stains,

From tyranny’s empurpled bands;

These, their richly gleaming waves,

I leave to tyrants and their slaves;

Give me the stream that sweetly laves

The banks by Castle-Gordon.

Spicy forests, ever gay,

Shading from the burning ray

Helpless wretches sold to toil,

Or the ruthless native’s way,

Bent on slaughter, blood, and spoil;

Woods that ever verdant wave,

I leave the tyrant and the slave;

Give me the groves that lofty brave

The storms by Castle-Gordon.

Wildly here, without control,

Nature reigns and rules the whole;

In that sober, pensive mood,

Dearest to the feeling soul,

She plants the forest, pours the flood.

Life’s poor day I ’ll musing rave,

And find at night a sheltering cave,

Where waters flow and wildwoods wave,

By bonny Castle-Gordon.