SONNET III. × TO THE RIVER WENSBECK. WHILE slowly wanders thy sequester'd stream, Fair scenes, ye lend a pleasure, long unknown, The farewell tear, which now he turns to pay, Shall thank you;-and whene'er of pleasures flown His heart some long-lost image would renew, Delightful haunts! he will remember you. SONNET IV. » ΤΟ THE TWEED. O TWEED! a stranger, that with wandering feet O'er thy tall banks, a soothing charm bestow; SONNET V.* EVENING, as slow thy placid shades descend, Veiling with gentlest hush the landscape still, The lonely battlement, and farthest hill And wood, I think of those that have no friend, Who now, perhaps, by melancholy led, From the broad blaze of day, where pleasure flaunts, Retiring, wander 'mid thy lonely haunts Unseen. They watch the tints that o'er thy bed Hang lovely, to their pensive fancy's eye Presenting fairy vales, where the tir'd mind Might rest, beyond the murmurs of mankind, Nor hear the hourly moans of misery. Ah! beauteous views, that Hope's fair gleams the while Should smile like you, and perish as they smile! SONNET VI. ✰ ON LEAVING A VILLAGE IN SCOTLAND. CLYSDALE, as thy romantick vales I leave, SONNET VII. » TO THE RIVER ITCHIN, NEAR WINTON. ITCHIN, when I behold thy banks again, Thy crumbling margin, and thy silver breast, On which the self-same tints still seem to rest, Why feels my heart the shiv'ring sense of pain? Is it that many a summer's day has past Since, in life's morn, I carol'd on thy side? Is it that oft, since then, my heart has sigh'd, As Youth, and Hope's delusive gleams, flew fast? Is it that those, who circled on thy shore, Companions of my youth, now meet no more? Whate'er the cause, upon thy banks I bend Sorrowing, yet feel such solace at my heart, As at the meeting of some long-lost friend, From whom, in happier hours, we wept to part. |