Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
Scotland: Vols. VI–VIII. 1876–79.

Clyde, the River

The Clyde

By James Cochrane

ARCADIAN scenes are thine, fair Clyde!

The rural pipe, clear tinkling rills,

Where sweet thy gathering waters glide

’Mong flowery meads and emerald hills:

Where shepherdesses tend the flock

That wanders on the mountain’s side,

Nor sigh for vanities that mock

The slaves of fashion and of pride:

Where lives the rustic, blessed with health,

Unconscious of a nobler sphere;

Happy, he neither longs for wealth,

Nor ruthless poverty doth fear:

Where many a feudal castle lowers,

With ivied walls storm-bleached and gray;

I ’ve heard the owl scream from those towers

That once with revelry were gay.

And where are they, the barons proud,

Who reared those noble turrets high?

Their mantle now is but a shroud,—

Hero and house in ruins lie.

Round Tinto now he winds serene,

Then sweeps far o’er the distant plain;

But loath to leave so sweet a scene,

He turns to kiss her feet again.

Now eddying smooth he speeds along,

Loud murmuring as his waters swell;

Now whirling wild, now gurgling strong,

He dives into the bosky dell.

Then o’er the rugged precipice,

Like madman in his fury, pours,

And deep, deep in the dread abyss,

He whirls, and boils, and foams, and roars.

Around Stonebyres what beauty lies!

The Terni of our northern clime;

With Tivoli thy Cora vies,

Less beautiful, but more sublime.