Loud the winds howl, loud the waves roar,
Thunderclaps rend the air;
Baffled, our foes stand by the shore,
Follow they will not dare.
Speed, bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing,
Onward! the sailors cry;
Carry the lad that's born to be King
Over the sea to Skye.
Though the waves leap, soft shall ye sleep,
Ocean's a royal bed.
Rocked in the deep, Flora will keep
Watch by your weary head.
Speed, bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing,
Onward! the sailors cry;
Carry the lad that's born to be King
Over the sea to Skye.
Many's the lad fought on that day,
Well the Claymore could wield,
When the night came, silently lay
Dead in Culloden's field.
Speed, bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing,
Onward! the sailors cry;
Carry the lad that's born to be King
Over the sea to Skye.
Burned are their homes, exile and death
Scatter the loyal men;
Yet ere the sword cool in the sheath
Charlie will come again.
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Bodiam Castle, England
Photo : Bruno Monginoux / www.Landscape-Photo.net (cc-by-nc-nd)
Photo : Bruno Monginoux / www.Landscape-Photo.net (cc-by-nc-nd)
I wish to wander,
I wish to roam:
By forest and meadow,
Silver and emerald,
By tree and field,
Lovely and bright.
Many a place I'd like to see,
Many a place I long go:
By village and brook ,
Small and fair,
By castle and river,
Noble and grand.
I wish to wander,
I wish to roam,
For many a place I long to see.
~ Sileas MacNab
I wish to roam:
By forest and meadow,
Silver and emerald,
By tree and field,
Lovely and bright.
Many a place I'd like to see,
Many a place I long go:
By village and brook ,
Small and fair,
By castle and river,
Noble and grand.
I wish to wander,
I wish to roam,
For many a place I long to see.
~ Sileas MacNab
Bodiam Castle, England
The Brook
By: Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892)
I come from haunts of coot and hern,
I make a sudden sally,
And sparkle out among the fern,
To bicker down a valley.
By thirty hills I hurry down,
Or slip between the ridges,
By twenty thorps, a little town,
And half a hundred bridges.
Till last by Philip's farm I flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on forever.
I chatter over stony ways,
In little sharps and trebles,
I bubble into eddying bays,
I babble on the pebbles.
With many a curve my banks I fret
by many a field and fallow,
And many a fairy foreland set
With willow-weed and mallow.
I chatter, chatter, as I flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on forever.
I wind about, and in and out,
with here a blossom sailing,
And here and there a lusty trout,
And here and there a grayling,
And here and there a foamy flake
Upon me, as I travel
With many a silver water-break
Above the golden gravel,
And draw them all along, and flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on forever.
I steal by lawns and grassy plots,
I slide by hazel covers;
I move the sweet forget-me-nots
That grow for happy lovers.
I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance,
Among my skimming swallows;
I make the netted sunbeam dance
Against my sandy shallows.
I murmur under moon and stars
In brambly wildernesses;
I linger by my shingly bars;
I loiter round my cresses;
And out again I curve and flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on forever.
By: Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892)
I come from haunts of coot and hern,
I make a sudden sally,
And sparkle out among the fern,
To bicker down a valley.
By thirty hills I hurry down,
Or slip between the ridges,
By twenty thorps, a little town,
And half a hundred bridges.
Till last by Philip's farm I flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on forever.
I chatter over stony ways,
In little sharps and trebles,
I bubble into eddying bays,
I babble on the pebbles.
With many a curve my banks I fret
by many a field and fallow,
And many a fairy foreland set
With willow-weed and mallow.
I chatter, chatter, as I flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on forever.
I wind about, and in and out,
with here a blossom sailing,
And here and there a lusty trout,
And here and there a grayling,
And here and there a foamy flake
Upon me, as I travel
With many a silver water-break
Above the golden gravel,
And draw them all along, and flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on forever.
I steal by lawns and grassy plots,
I slide by hazel covers;
I move the sweet forget-me-nots
That grow for happy lovers.
I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance,
Among my skimming swallows;
I make the netted sunbeam dance
Against my sandy shallows.
I murmur under moon and stars
In brambly wildernesses;
I linger by my shingly bars;
I loiter round my cresses;
And out again I curve and flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on forever.
Photo : Bruno Monginoux / www.Landscape-Photo.net (cc-by-nc-nd)
Greetings and welcome to By Castle and River, a small place in The Internet, created by me and, in a way, for me, and devoted to the things that I love. Your comments will be received with joy: I like to know when people love the things I do.
Julie
Julie
Followers
About Me
- Julie
- "I am a little bit more than I was, and I am nothing compared to what I shall be."
Photo : Bruno Monginoux / www.Landscape-Photo.net (cc-by-nc-nd)
2 comments:
I've long liked that song. I used to sing it a lot. :)
~ A.K. ~
:) I've never actually sung it, but I can play it on my recorder kinda OK. :P
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