 | Orellana and Other Poems |  |
263
XXIII. FROM THE WICKS OF BAIGLIE.
Here there are braes, and glens, and brawling brooks,And cascades flinging loose their diamond spray,
And waters winding down to firth and bay,
And woods, and craigs, and knowes, and fairy nooks;
But on the hill-tops there are golden stooks,
And mill-wheels in the cascade's thunder play,
Boats breast the river, artists glenward stray,
And over barren craigs rise pastoral crooks.—
Not many years ago the scene was claimed
By the rude elements—to whom it gave
Thistle, and thorn, and stone, and stream unnamed,
Harvestless hill, and undivided wave;
Now the wild elephant is trapped and tamed,
Caparisoned and tended—and a slave!
| Orellana and Other Poems | |