A POEM.
97
Nor Clyde's whole course an ampler prospect yields,
Of spacious plains, and well improven fields;
Which, here, the gently rising hills surround,
And, there, the cloud-supporting mountains bound;
Now fields with stately dwellings thronger charged,
And populous cities, by their trade enlarged. 380
Here youthful Shaws, by vigorous industry,
Aspires in fame with ancient towns to vie;
Fair Paisley imitates, who justly boasts
Her manufactures, famed on foreign coasts:
For fine invention o'er the work presides,
And neat dexterity the shuttle guides.
By Crookstone Castle waves the still-green yew,
The first that met the royal Mary's view,
When, bright in charms, the youthful princess led
The graceful Darnley to her throne and bed: 390
Embossed in silver, now, its branches green
Transcend the myrtle of the Paphian queen.
But dark Langside, from Crookstone viewed afar,
Still seems to range in pomp the rebel war.
Here, when the moon rides dimly through the sky,
The peasant sees broad dancing standards fly,
And one bright female form, with sword and crown,
Still grieves to view her banners beaten down.
Of spacious plains, and well improven fields;
Which, here, the gently rising hills surround,
And, there, the cloud-supporting mountains bound;
Now fields with stately dwellings thronger charged,
And populous cities, by their trade enlarged. 380
Here youthful Shaws, by vigorous industry,
Aspires in fame with ancient towns to vie;
Fair Paisley imitates, who justly boasts
Her manufactures, famed on foreign coasts:
For fine invention o'er the work presides,
And neat dexterity the shuttle guides.
By Crookstone Castle waves the still-green yew,
The first that met the royal Mary's view,
When, bright in charms, the youthful princess led
The graceful Darnley to her throne and bed: 390
Embossed in silver, now, its branches green
Transcend the myrtle of the Paphian queen.
But dark Langside, from Crookstone viewed afar,
Still seems to range in pomp the rebel war.
Here, when the moon rides dimly through the sky,
The peasant sees broad dancing standards fly,
And one bright female form, with sword and crown,
Still grieves to view her banners beaten down.
