(Robert Burns) Where, braving angry winter's storms, The lofty Ochils rise, Far in their shade my Peggy's charms First blest my wondering eyes: As one who by some savage stream A lonely gem surveys, Astonish'd doubly, marks its beam With art's most polish'd blaze. Blest be the wild, sequester'd glade, And blest the day and hour, Where Peggy's charms I first survey'd, When first I felt their pow'r! The tyrant Death, with prim control May seize my fleeting breath, But tearing Peggy from my soul Must be a stronger death. @Scots @seasonal @weather Tune: Neil Gow's lament for Abercairny (182) Filename[ BRVWNSTM Play.exe BRVWNSTM ARB