Here is the glen

Here is the glen.

[In a letter to Thomson, Burns says, "I got an air, pretty enough, composed by Lady Elizabeth Heron of Heron, which she calls 'The banks of Cree.' Cree is a beautiful romantic stream; and as her Ladyship is a particular friend of mine, I have written the following song to it."]

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, Mix'd 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.