Song—The Flowery banks of Cree

Here is the glen, and here the bower
  All underneath the birchen shade;
The village-bell has told the hour,
  O what can stay my lovely maid?

'Tis not Maria's whispering call;
  'Tis but the balmy breathing gale,
Mixt with some warbler's dying fall,
  The dewy star of eve to hail.

It is Maria's voice I hear;
  So calls the woodlark in the grove,
His little, faithful mate to cheer;
  At once 'tis music and 'tis love.

And art thou come! and art thou true!
  O welcome dear to love and me!
And let us all our vows renew,
  Along the flowery banks of Cree.

Published in Poems and Songs of Robert Burns

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