Get Your Premium Membership

189. Verses on Castle Gordon

 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.

Poem by Robert Burns
Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem - 189. Verses on Castle GordonEmail Poem | Create an image from this poem

Poems are below...

More Poems by Robert Burns

Comments, Analysis, and Meaning on 189. Verses on Castle Gordon

Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem 189. Verses on Castle Gordon here.

Commenting turned off, sorry.