Текст песни Burns Robert - The Humors Of The Glen, слова песни Burns Robert

Текст песни Burns Robert - The Humors Of The Glen

Burns Robert - The Humors Of The Glen слова песни

The Humors of the Glen (Robert Burns)Their groves o` sweet myrtle let Foreign Lands reckon, Where bright-beaming summers exalt the perfume,Far dearer to me yon lone glen o`green breckan Wi` th`burn stealing under the lang, yellow broom:Far dearer to me are yon humble broom bowers, Where the blue-bell and gowan lurk, lowly, unseen;For there, lightly tripping amang the wild flowers, A listening the linnet, oft wanders my Jean.Tho` rich is the breeze in their gay, sunny vallies, And cauld, Caledonia`s blast on the wave;Their sweet-scented woodlands that skirt the proud palace, What are they ? The haunt o`the tyrant and slave.The slave`s spicy forests, and gold-bubbling fountains, The brave Caledonian views wi`disdain;He wanders as free as the winds of his mountains, Save love`s willing fetters, the chains o`his Jean.Tune:Humors of the Glen (496)filename[ HUMOFGLNplay.exe HUMOFGLNARB===DOCUMENT BOUNDARY===

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Burns Robert

The Humors Of The Glen

Текст песни Burns Robert - The Humors Of The Glen

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