F S T Th B O A（1 / 1）

farewell ng to the banks of ayr

tune—“rosl castle”

“i posed this ng as i nveyed y chest far on y road to greenock, where i was to ebark a few days for jaaica i ant it as y farewell dir to y native nd”—r b

the glooy night is gath&039;rg fast,

loud roars the wild, nstant bst,

yon urky cloud is foul with ra,

i see it drivg o&039;er the p;

the hunter now has left the oor

the scatt&039;red veys et secure;

while here i wander, prest with care,

along the lonely banks of ayr

the autun ourns her rip&039;ng rn

by early ter&039;s rava torn;

across her pcid, azure sky,

she sees the swlg tepest fly:

chill runs y blood to hear it rave;

i thk upon the story wave,

where any a danr i t dare,

far fro the bonie banks of ayr

&039;tis not the surgg billow&039;s roar,

&039;tis not that fatal, deadly shore;

tho&039; death ev&039;ry shape appear,

the wretched have no ore to fear:

but round y heart the ties are bound,

that heart transpierc&039;d with any a wound;

these bleed afresh, those ties i tear,

to leave the bonie banks of ayr

farewell, old i&039;s hills and dales,

her healthy oors and dg vales;

the scenes where wretched fancy roves,

pursug past, unhappy loves!

farewell, y friends! farewell, y foes!

y peace with these, y love with those:

the burstg tears y heart decre—

farewell, the bonie banks of ayr!