O Tweed! a stranger, that with wandering feet <br />O'er hill and dale has journeyed many a mile, <br />(If so his weary thoughts he might beguile), <br />Delighted turns thy stranger-stream to greet. <br />The waving branches that romantic bend <br />O'er thy tall banks a soothing charm bestow; <br />The murmurs of thy wandering wave below <br />Seem like the converse of some long-lost friend. <br />Delightful stream! though now along thy shore, <br />When spring returns in all her wonted pride, <br />The distant pastoral pipe is heard no more; <br />Yet here while laverocks sing could I abide, <br />Far from the stormy world's contentious roar, <br />To muse upon thy banks at eventide.<br /><br />William Lisle Bowles<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-tweed-visited/
