By Allan stream I chanced to rove
While Phoebus sank beyond Benledi;
The winds were whispering through the grove,
The yellow corn was waving ready;
I listened to a lover's sang,
And thought on youthfu' mony:
And aye the wild wood echoes rang--
O dearly do I lo'e thee, Annie!
While Phoebus sank beyond Benledi;
The winds were whispering through the grove,
The yellow corn was waving ready;
I listened to a lover's sang,
And thought on youthfu' mony:
And aye the wild wood echoes rang--
O dearly do I lo'e thee, Annie!
Robert Burns
