Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
Scotland: Vols. VI–VIII. 1876–79. | | | | Nith, the River | | Nithside | | John M’Diarmid (1790–1852) |
| | | WHEN the lark is in the air, the leaf upon the tree, | |
| The butterfly disporting beside the hummel bee; | |
| The scented hedges white, the fragrant meadows pied, | |
| How sweet it is to wander by bonnie Nithside! | |
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| When the blackbird piping loud the mavis strives to drown, | 5 |
| And school-boys seeking nests find each nursling fledged or flown, | |
| To hop ’mong plots and borders, arrayed in all their pride, | |
| How sweet at dewy morn to roam by bonnie Nithside! | |
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| When the flies are on the stream, ’neath a sky of azure hue, | |
| And anglers take their stand by the waters bright and blue; | 10 |
| While the coble circles pools, where the monarch salmon glide, | |
| Surpassing sweet on summer days is bonnie Nithside! | |
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| When the corncraik’s voice is mute, as her young begin to flee, | |
| And seek with swifts and martins some home beyond the sea; | |
| And reapers crowd the harvest-field, in man and maiden pride, | 15 |
| How exquisite the golden hours on bonnie Nithside! | |
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| When stubbles yield to tilth, and woodlands brown and sear, | |
| The falling leaf and crispy pool proclaim the waning year; | |
| And sounds of sylvan pastime ring through our valley wide, | |
| Vicissitude itself is sweet by bonnie Nithside! | 20 |
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| And when winter comes at last, capping every hill with snow, | |
| And freezing into icy plains the struggling streams below, | |
| You still may share the curler’s joys, and find at eventide | |
| Maids sweet and fair, in spence and ha’, at bonnie Nithside! | | | | |
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