Wild rose of Alloway! my thanks;
  Thou ’mindst me of that autumn noon
When first we met upon “the banks
  And braes of bonny Doon.”

Like thine, beneath the thorn-tree’s bough,
  My sunny hour was glad and brief;
We ’ve crossed the winter sea, and thou
  Art withered—flower and leaf.

And will not thy death-doom be mine—...