72 SCOTLAND.
We sought the barren hills and crystal streams Of Caledonia ; poor, perchance, in gold, But rich in deathless song.
Swift rolled the Esk,
Where the impetuous young Lord Lochinvar Stayed not for ford, but plunging, braved its wrath, And rushed in conquering arrogance to claim The bride of Netherby.
Up rose in light,
Branksom s lyre-honor d tower ; the pleasant homes Of Teviotdale, fast by the River Tweed ; And then, like throned queen, the attic robes Of beautiful Edina.
Yet, we spake
Oft-times of thee, Carlisle ! for thy sweet smile, And the deep cadence of thy chanted hymn That taught our Sabbath of the choir of heaven, Went with us, as we journeyed. So we said Once more, " farewell ! and peace be with thee still."
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