Yet I will look upon thy face again,
My own romantic Bronx, and it will be
A read more

Yet I will look upon thy face again,
My own romantic Bronx, and it will be
A face more pleasant than the face of men.
Thy waves are old companions, I shall see
A well remembered form in each old tree
And hear a voice long loved in thy wild minstrelsy.

Farewell, my friends! farewell, my foes!
My peace with these, my love with those.
The bursting tears read more

Farewell, my friends! farewell, my foes!
My peace with these, my love with those.
The bursting tears my heart declare;
Farewell, the bonnie banks of Ayr.

Rivers are roads that move and carry us whither we wish to go.
[Fr., Les rivieres sont des chemins read more

Rivers are roads that move and carry us whither we wish to go.
[Fr., Les rivieres sont des chemins qui marchant et qui portent
ou l'on veut aller.]

Now scantier limits the proud arch confine,
And scarce are seen the prostrate Nile or Rhine;
A read more

Now scantier limits the proud arch confine,
And scarce are seen the prostrate Nile or Rhine;
A small Euphrates thro' the piece is roll'd,
And little eagles wave their wings in gold.

How sweet to move at summer's eve
By Clyde's meandering stream,
When Sol in joy is seen read more

How sweet to move at summer's eve
By Clyde's meandering stream,
When Sol in joy is seen to leave
The earth with crimson beam;
When islands that wandered far
Above his sea couch lie,
And here and there some gem-like star
Re-opes its sparkling eye.

Flow on, lovely Dee, flow on, thou sweet river,
Thy banks' purest stream shall be dear to me ever.

Flow on, lovely Dee, flow on, thou sweet river,
Thy banks' purest stream shall be dear to me ever.

From Stirling Castle we had seen
The mazy Forth unravelled;
Had trod the banks of Clyde and read more

From Stirling Castle we had seen
The mazy Forth unravelled;
Had trod the banks of Clyde and Tay,
And with the Tweed had travelled;
And when we came to Clovenford,
Then said "my winsome marrow,"
"Whate'er betide, we'll turn aside,
And see the braes of Yarrow."

The fountains of sacred rivers flow upwards (i.e., everything is
turned topsy turvy.)

The fountains of sacred rivers flow upwards (i.e., everything is
turned topsy turvy.)

Two ways the rivers
Leap down to different seas, and as they roll
Grow deep and still, read more

Two ways the rivers
Leap down to different seas, and as they roll
Grow deep and still, and their majestic presence
Becomes a benefaction to the towns
They visit, wandering silently among them,
Like patriarchs old among their shining tents.