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Farewell to Ravelrig

 Sweet Ravelrig, I ne'er could part 
From thee, but wi' a dowie heart.
When I think on the happy days I spent in youth about your braes, When innocence my steps did guide, Where murmuring streams did sweetly glide Beside the braes well stored wi' trees, And sweetest flow'rs that fend the bees: And there the tuneful tribe doth sing, While lightly flitting on the wing; And conscious peace was ever found Within your mansion to abound.
Sweet be thy former owner's rest, And peace to him that's now possess't Of all thy beauties great and small, Lang may he live to bruik them all!

by James Thomson
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