EMBLEM of strength, which time hath quite subdued, Scarcely on thy green mount the eye may trace Those girding walls which made thee once a place Of succour, in old days of deadly feud. Yes! thou wert once the Scotch marauder's dread; And vainly did the Roxburgh shafts assail Thy moated towers, from which they fell like hail; While waved Northumbria's pennon o'er thy head. Thou wert the work of man, and so hast pass'd Like those who piled thee; but the features still Of steadfast Nature all unchanged remain; Still Cheviot listens to the northern blast, And the blue Tweed winds murmuring round thy hill; While Carham whispers of the slaughter'd Dane. |