'Ye hazelly shaws and briery dens, Ye burnies, wimplin' down your glens Wi' toddlin' din, Or foaming, strang, wi' hasty stens, Frae linn to linn.'[35] The same appeal forms the burden of his song on the _Banks and braes o' bonnie Doon_. He leads us where 'In gowany glens the burnie strays, Or trots by hazelly shaws and braes, Wi' hawthorns gray.'[36] He pictures the stream after a rain-storm, when 'Tumbling brown, the burn comes down And roars frae bank to brae;'[37] or when the breath of the Atlantic has swept over the wintry hills and the 'Burns wi' snawy wreeths up-choked Wild-eddying swirl, Or through the mining outlet bocked Down-headlong hurl.'[38] But nowhere does his delight in these features of his native landscape find more exuberant expression than in his _Halloween_, when he interrupts his narrative of Leezie's misadventure to give a graphic picture of one of his brooks in the calm moonlight of an autumn evening. 'Whyles owre a linn the burnie plays, As thro' the glen it wimpl't; Whyles round a rocky scaur it strays Whyles in a wiel it dimpl't; 'Whyles glitter'd to the nightly rays, Wi' bickerin', dancin' dazzle; Whyles cookit underneath the braes, Below the spreading hazel Unseen that night.' Born near the river Ayr, and having spent his boyhood and youth in its valley, Burns had ever a special affection for that stream, along whose banks he had composed some of his finest poems. When his enforced emigration to America was settled, and his trunk on its way to the ship, he wrote a parting song in the burden of which the banks of Ayr are made to stand for his native country as a whole: 'The bursting tears my heart declare, Farewell, the bonnie banks of Ayr.'[39] When the respite came, and he found himself famous and in Edinburgh, the Address which he wrote to the Scottish capital contrasted his reception there with what had gone before, and again his heart was by his beloved river: 'From marking wildly-scattered flowers, As on the banks of Ayr I stray'd, And singing, lone, the ling'ring hours, I shelter in thy honour'd shade.' And lastly, when the shadows were beginning to gather around him at Ellisland, his thoughts would go back to the same scene. In one of his latest and most pathetic songs we find once more a reminiscence of his associations with the river of his youth: 'Ayr gurgling kiss'd his pebbled shore O'erhung with wild woods, thick'ning green; The fragrant birch, and hawthorn hoar, Twin'd am'rous round the raptur'd scene. The flowers sprang wanton to be prest, The birds sang love on every spray, Till too, too soon, the glowing west, Proclaim'd the speed of winged day.'[40]