SONGS, &c. EVAN BANKS. SLOW spreads the gloom my soul desires, And she, in simple beauty drest, Or where yon grot o'erhangs the tide, Ye lofty banks that Evan bound! And And o'er the stream your shadows throw, Sweet banks! ye bloom by Mary's side: Can all the wealth of India's coast Nor more may ought my steps divide From that dear stream which flows to Clyde. SONG. AE fond kiss, and then we sever; Ae fareweel, alas, for ever! Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee, Who shall say that fortune grieves him I'll I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy, Fare thee weel, thou first and fairest! Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee, SONG. PATRIOTIC-unfinished. HERE's a health to them that's awa, Here's a health to them that's awa; * Fa'-lot. It's |