Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
Scotland: Vols. VI–VIII. 1876–79.
Cora Linn, or the Falls of the Clyde
By Thomas Campbell (17771844)T
’T was with congenial friends;
And calmer hours of pleasure past
My memory seldom sends.
As ever shone on Clyde,
And Lanark’s orchards all the way
Put forth their golden pride;
Looked rich that sunny morn;
The scarlet hip and blackberry
So pranked September’s thorn.
That trees on loftiest hill
Like statues stood, or things asleep,
All motionless and still.
Bade earth be quiet round,
And give his loud and lonely voice
A more commanding sound.
Of noon, came down like one
Continuous sheet of jaspers bright,
Broad rolling by the sun.
Have prouder names than thine;
And king of all, enthroned in woods,
Let Niagara shine.
With reeking thunders far,
Extended like the array of hosts
In broad, embattled war!
Approaching thine, we feel
A solemn, deep melodiousness,
That needs no louder peal.
Thy dream-inspiring din;
Be thou the Scottish Muse’s haunt,
Romantic Cora Linn.