A ROUND your northern home, where never cease The ebb and flow of Nith, whose waters glide Rich with their memories of the Muse; whose tide, In haunts of moorfowl and the wandering fleece, Down by Caerlaverock beyond old Dumfries, To Solway brings its dowry, like a bride; There do the lowland mothers mourn with pride The lowland sons, whom War hath lapped in Peace. But you -- be nobly gladsome, seeing that what Was great aforetime still disdains to fade: The spirit perfervid of the heroic Scot, Its fire unlulled, and hardly in earth allayed: The ancient native prowess unforgot, Valour undrooped, and manhood undecayed. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ANCHORED TO THE INFINITE by EDWIN MARKHAM THE SILLER CROUN by SUSANNA BLAMIRE STREET LANTERNS by MARY ELIZABETH COLERIDGE THE MAD GARDENER'S SONG by CHARLES LUTWIDGE DODGSON THE WORD by WILLIAM WALSHAM HOW THE NILE by JAMES HENRY LEIGH HUNT |