189. Verses on Castle Gordon

Read '189. Verses on Castle Gordon' by 'Robert Burns' and provide your summary and literary analysis in the comments section below.

189. Verses on Castle Gordon by Robert Burns

 STREAMS that glide in orient plains,
Never bound by Winter’s chains;
 Glowing here on golden sands,
There immix’d with foulest stains
 From Tyranny’s empurpled hands;
These, their richly gleaming waves,
I leave to tyrants and their slaves;
Give me the stream that sweetly laves
 The banks by Castle Gordon.


Spicy forests, ever gray,
Shading from the burning ray
 Hapless wretches sold to toil;
Or the ruthless native’s way,
 Bent on slaughter, blood, and spoil:
Woods that ever verdant wave,
I leave the tyrant and the slave;
Give me the groves that lofty brave
 The storms by Castle Gordon.


Wildly here, without control,
Nature reigns and rules the whole;
 In that sober pensive mood,
Dearest to the feeling soul,
 She plants the forest, pours the flood:
Life’s poor day I’ll musing rave
And find at night a sheltering cave,
Where waters flow and wild woods wave,
 By bonie Castle Gordon.

Form: Lyric

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