Written at St Andrews

In 1798

Along the shelves that line Kibriven's shore
I lingering pass, with steps well-pois'd and slow,
Where brown the slippery wreaths of sea-weeds grow,
And listen to the weltering ocean's roar.
When o'er the crisping waves the sun-beams gleam,
And from the hills the latest streaks of day-
Recede, by Eden's shadowy banks I stray,
And lash the willows blue that fringe the stream;
And often to myself, in whispers weak,
I breathe the name of some dear gentle maid;
Or some lov'd friend, whom in Edina's shade
I left when forc'd these eastern shores to seek!
And for the distant months I sigh in vain
To bring me to these favourite haunts again.