The Poems of Robert Fergusson :: :: University of Virginia Library

O'er Scotia's parched land the Naiads flew,
From towering hills explor'd her shelter'd vales,
Caus'd Forth in wild meanders please the view,
And lift her waters to the zephyrs gales.
Where the glad swain surveys his fertile fields,
And reaps the plenty which his harvest yields.
Here did those lovely nymphs unseen,
Oft wander by the river's side,
And oft unbind their tresses green,
To bathe them in the fluid tide.
Then to the shady grottos would retire,
And sweetly echo to the warbling choir;
Or to the rushing waters tune their shells
To call up echo from the woods,
Or from the rocks, or chrystal floods,
Or from surrounding banks, or hills, or dales.

CHORUS.

Or to the rushing waters tune their shells
To call up echo from the woods,
Or from the rocks or crystal floods,
Or from surrounding banks, or hills, or dales.

When the cool fountains first their springs forsook,
Murmuring smoothly to the azure main,
Exulting Neptune then his trident shook,
And wav'd his waters gently to the plain.

The friendly Tritons on his chariot born,
With cheeks dilated blew the hollow-sounding horn.

Now Lothian and Fifan shores,
Resounding to the mermaids song,
Gladly emit their limpid stores,
And bid them smoothly sail along

To Neptune's empire, and with him to roll
Round the revolving sphere from pole to pole;

To guard Britannia from envious foes,
To view her angry vengeance hurl'd
In awful thunder round the world,
And trembling nations bending to her blows.

CHORUS.

To guard Britannia from envious foes,
To view her angry vengeance hurl'd
In awful thunder round the world,
And trembling nations bending to her blows.

High towering on the zephyrs breezy wing,
Swift fly the Naiades from Fortha's shores,
And to the southern airy mountains bring
Their sweet enchantment, and their magic powers.

Each nymph her favourite willow takes,
The earth with fev'rous tremor shakes,
The stagnant lakes obey their call,
Streams o'er the grassy pastures fall.

Tweed spreads her waters to the lucid ray,
Upon the dimpled surf the sun-beams play:

On her green banks the tuneful shepherd lies,
Charm'd with the music of his reed,
Amidst the wavings of the Tweed:
From sky-reflecting streams the river nymphs arise.

CHORUS.

On her green banks the tuneful shepherd lies,
Charm'd with the music of his reed,
Amidst the wavings of the Tweed,
From sky-reflecting streams the river nymphs arise.

The list'ning muses heard the shepherd play,
Fame with her brazen trump proclaim'd his name,
And to attend the easy graceful lay,
Pan from Arcadia to Tweda came.

Fond of the change, along the banks he stray'd,
And sung unmindful of th'Arcadian shade.

AIR, Tweedside.

I

Attend every fanciful swain,
Whose notes softly flow from the reed,
With harmony guide the sweet strain,
To sing of the beauties of Tweed.

II

Where the music of woods, and of streams
In soothing sweet melody join,
To enliven your pastoral themes,
And make human numbers divine.

CHORUS.

Ye warblers from the vocal grove,
The tender woodland strain approve,
While Tweed in smoother cadence glides,
O'er flow'ry vales in gentle tides;
And as she rolls her silver waves along,
Murmers and sighs to quit the rural song.
Scotia's great Genius in russet clad,
From the cool sedgy bank exalts her head,
In joyful rapture she the change espies,
Sees living streams descend, and groves arise.

AIR, Gilderoy.

I

As sable clouds at early day
Oft dim the shining skies,
So gloomy thoughts create dismay
And lustre leaves her eyes.

II

“Ye powers! are Scotia's ample fields
“With so much beauty grac'd,
“To have those sweets your bounty yields,
“By foreign foes defac'd?

III

“O Jove! at whose supreme command
“The limpid fountains play,
“O'er Caledonia's northern land,
“Let restless waters stray.

IV

“Since from the void creation rose,
“Thou'st made a sacred vow,
“That Caledon to foreign foes
“Should ne'er be known to bow.”

The mighty Thund'rer on his saphire throne,
In mercy's robes attir'd, heard the sweet voice
Of female woe—soft as the moving song
Of Philomela 'midst the evening shades;
And thus return'd an answer to her pray'rs:
“Where birks at Nature's call arise;
“Where fragrance hails the vaulted skies;
“Where my own oak its umbrage spreads,
“Delightful 'midst the woody shades;
“Where ivy mould'ring rocks entwines;
“Where breezes bend the lofty pines:
“There shall the laughing naiads stray,
“Midst the sweet banks of winding Tay.”
From the dark womb of earth Tay's waters spring,
Ordain'd by Jove's unalterable voice;
The sounding lyre celestial muses string,
The choiring songsters in the groves rejoice.
Each fount its chrystal fluids pours,
Which from surrounding mountains flow;
The river baths its verdant shores,
Cool o'er the surf the breezes blow.

Let England's sons extoll their gardens fair,
Scotland may freely boast her gen'rous streams,
Their soil more fertile and their milder air,
Her fishes sporting in the solar beams.
Thames, Humber, Severn, all must yield the bay
To the pure streams of Forth, of Tweed, and Tay.

CHORUS.

Thames, Humber, Severn, all must yield the bay
To the pure streams of Forth, of Tweed, and Tay.

O Scotia! when such beauty claims
A mansion near thy flowing streams,
Ne'er shall stern Mars in iron car,
Drive his proud coursers to the war:
But fairy forms shall strew around
Their olives on the peaceful ground;
And turtles join the warbling throng,
To usher in the morning song.
Or shout in chorus all the live-long day,
From the green banks of Forth, of Tweed, and Tay.

When gentle Phœbe's friendly light
In silver radiance clothes the night;
Still music's ever varying strains
Shall tell the lovers, Cynthia reigns;
And wooe them to her midnight bowers,
Among the fragrant dew-clad flowers,
Where every rock, and hill, and dale,
With echoes greet the nightingale,
Whose pleasing, soft, pathetic tongue,
To kind condolance turns the song;

And often wins the love-sick swain to stray
To hear the tender variegated lay,
Thro' the dark woods of Forth, of Tweed, and Tay.

Hail, native streams, and native groves!
Oozy caverns, green alcoves!

Retreats for Cytherea's reign,
With all the graces in her train.
Hail, Fancy, thou whose ray so bright
Dispels the glimm'ring taper's light!
Come in aerial vesture blue,
Ever pleasing, ever new,
In these recesses deign to dwell
With me in yonder moss-clad cell:

Then shall my reed successful tune the lay,
In numbers wildly warbling as they stray
Thro' the glad banks of Fortha, Tweed, and Tay.