 | The Poems of Robert Fergusson |  |
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.
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.
45
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.
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.
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;
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.
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:
Oozy caverns, green alcoves!
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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.
In numbers wildly warbling as they stray
Thro' the glad banks of Fortha, Tweed, and Tay.
| The Poems of Robert Fergusson | |