SCOTCH
BALLAD
.
AH
,
EVAN
,
by
thy
winding
stream
How
once
I
lov'd
to
stray
,
And
view
the
morning's
redd'ning
beam
,
Or
charm
of
closing
day
!
To
yon
dear
grot
by
EVAN'S
side
,
How
oft
my
steps
were
led
;
Where
far
beneath
the
waters
glide
,
And
thick
the
woods
are
spread
!
But
I
no
more
a
charm
can
see
In
EVAN'S
lovely
glades
;
And
drear
and
desolate
to
me
Are
those
enchanting
shades
.
While
far
—
how
far
from
EVAN'S
bowers
,
My
wand'ring
lover
flies
;
Where
dark
the
angry
tempest
lowers
,
And
high
the
billows
rise
!
And
O
,
where'er
the
wand'rer
goes
,
Is
that
poor
mourner
dear
,
Who
gives
,
while
soft
the
EVAN
flows
,
Each
passing
wave
a
tear
?
And
does
he
now
that
grotto
view
?
On
those
steep
banks
still
gaze
?
In
fancy
does
he
still
pursue
The
EVAN'S
lovely
maze
?
O
come
!
repass
the
stormy
wave
,
O
toil
for
gold
no
more
!
Our
love
a
dearer
pleasure
gave
On
EVAN'S
peaceful
shore
.
Leave
not
my
breaking
heart
to
mourn
The
joys
so
long
denied
;
Ah
,
soon
to
those
green
banks
return
,
Where
EVAN
meets
the
CLYDE
.