All hail! ye dear romantic scenes

All hail! ye dear romantic scenes,
Where oft as eve stole o'er the sky,
Ye've found me by the mountain streams,
Where blooming wild-flowers charm the eye.

The sun's now setting in the west--
Mild are his beams on hill and plain;
No sound is heard save Killoch burn,
Deep murm'ring down its woody glen.

Green be thy banks, thou silver stream,
That winds the flowery braes among;
Where oft I've woo'd the Scottish muse,
And raptur'd wove the rustic song.