. The national Burns, including the airs of all the songs in the staff and tonic sol-fa notations. ds in the morn • iug dew, How pure a-mang the leaves sae green ; SffiE^^^^^ But pur-er was the lov • era vow They witness d in their sliaile yestreen. All in its rude and prickly bower, That crimson rose how sweet and fair!But love is far a sweeter flower, Amid lifes thorny path o pathless wild, and wimpling burn, Wi Chloris in my arms, be mine;Ami I the world nor wish nor scorn, Its joys and griefs alike resign. Written on the blank leaf of a copy of the last editionof my poems, present
. The national Burns, including the airs of all the songs in the staff and tonic sol-fa notations. ds in the morn • iug dew, How pure a-mang the leaves sae green ; SffiE^^^^^ But pur-er was the lov • era vow They witness d in their sliaile yestreen. All in its rude and prickly bower, That crimson rose how sweet and fair!But love is far a sweeter flower, Amid lifes thorny path o pathless wild, and wimpling burn, Wi Chloris in my arms, be mine;Ami I the world nor wish nor scorn, Its joys and griefs alike resign. Written on the blank leaf of a copy of the last editionof my poems, presented to the lady, whom, in so manyfictitious reveries of passion, but with the most ardentsentiments of real friendship, I have so often sung underthe name of Chloris :— TO CHLORIS. Tis friendships pledge, my young, fair friend, Nor thou the gift refuse,Nor with unwilling ear attend The moralizing muse. [&c. See the poem at length, vol. i. page 220.] Une bagatelle de Vamitie.—Coila. * We have no farther account of this piece, except in postscript tLetter LXXX. 88 BURNS CORRESPONDENCE. TO MR. CUNNINGHAM. NOW SPRING HAS CLAD THE GROVE INGREEN. Tcse—The Hopeless spring has clod the gr ire ins reen, And strewd the lea wi Bowers; ^p^^^p The far-rowd, war-lng corn Is seeu Re - joice in fos-tex-ing showers; *E* agrop^BBBBj^^ =£fc=s While il • k-i tliini, in Nature Join Their sot -rows to fore - go,/7\ Ippip^^^pfp O why tlius all a- lone aremiue Tlie wea - ry rtepa of wol The trniit within yon wimpling burnGlides swift, a silver dart, And safe beneath the shady thorn I >efies the anglers art;My life was once that careless stream, That wanton trout was I;But love, wi unrelenting I an, Bas 31 orchd my fountains dry. The little fiWrets peaceful lot, In yonder cliff that grows—Which, save the linnets flight, I wot, Nae ruder visit knows —Was mine ; till love lias oer me past, Ami blighted a my bloom,And now beneath the withring blast My youth and joy consume. Th
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