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264. Song—On a Bank of Flowers

 ON a bank of flowers, in a summer day,
 For summer lightly drest,
The youthful, blooming Nelly lay,
 With love and sleep opprest;
When Willie, wand’ring thro’ the wood,
Who for her favour oft had sued;
 He gaz’d, he wish’d
 He fear’d, he blush’d,
And trembled where he stood.
Her closèd eyes, like weapons sheath’d, Were seal’d in soft repose; Her lip, still as she fragrant breath’d, It richer dyed the rose; The springing lilies, sweetly prest, Wild-wanton kissed her rival breast; He gaz’d, he wish’d, He mear’d, he blush’d, His bosom ill at rest.
Her robes, light-waving in the breeze, Her tender limbs embrace; Her lovely form, her native ease, All harmony and grace; Tumultuous tides his pulses roll, A faltering, ardent kiss he stole; He gaz’d, he wish’d, He fear’d, he blush’d, And sigh’d his very soul.
As flies the partridge from the brake, On fear-inspired wings, So Nelly, starting, half-awake, Away affrighted springs; But Willie follow’d-as he should, He overtook her in the wood; He vow’d, he pray’d, He found the maid Forgiving all, and good.

Poem by Robert Burns
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