(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
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