 | The Poems of Robert Fergusson |  |
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.
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II
Where the music of woods, and of streamsIn 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.
| The Poems of Robert Fergusson | |