AT THE HARBOUR O’ AYR
The handsomest picture that ever was seen
Of keen winter frost or bright summer sheen,
The street o’ the city, or lone highland glen,
Cleverly drawn by the brush or the pen;
Whenever the skies are drap’d in their best,
And the sons o’ labour enjoying sweet rest,
There’s nothing so bright, so gorgeous, and fair
As beautiful sunset at the Harbour o’ Ayr.
When lovers are strolling down by the shore,
List’ning to hear the wild breakers roar,
When into the waves dogs fearlessly dash,
When light’hearted bairns paidle and splash,
When donkeys are galloping over the sand,
Elevating the sportive mind of man,
There’s nothing so bright, so gorgeous,and fair
As beautiful sunset at the Harbour o’ Ayr.
