SCOTLAND. 145 



And the sea with gentle murmurings 



Their mingled tides will greet. 

 Roll on then, Tweed, until they be 

 Lost in the waves of the deep, dark sea. 



4< Thy banks are rich and fair, 



thy woods wave green and wild, 

 And thou bearest many a roving rill, 



The distant mountain's child. 

 Roll on then, kingly river, 



By castle, hall, and tower 

 By palace proud and lowly cot 



*By greenwood, glen, and bower. 

 Rolf on, roll on, until ye gain 



The wild waves of the restless main. 



" As by thy sun-lit waters 



With wandering eyes I stand, 

 And gaze on all the varied scenes 



Of this fair, pleasant land, 

 I think bright flowing river 



How much has come and gone 

 While on thy wide and winding path 



Thou hast been rolling on ; 

 Still rolling on, unchanged and free, 



To the bounding waves of the deep, dark sea. 



<c How many eyes are closed in death, 



How many hearts are cold, 

 How many youthful forms have sunk 



Before the gray and old 

 How many in these scattered homes 



Have come and passed away, 

 Tleeting and fail*, as the bright sun's beam, 



Or like the meteor's ray 

 Whose course through time passed on like thee 



To the billows of eternity ! 



" Peace be to thy blue waters, 



As with gentle song they flow ; 

 Light be the breath of the whispering winds . 



When on thy shores they blow. 

 May the blue sun's dancing rays 



On thy rippling wavelets gleam, 

 And gladsome be thy pilgrimage, 



Thou brightly flowing stream ! 

 Roll on in beauty till ye gain 

 ""Hie white waves of the restless main." 



