BOTHWELL CASTLE

Immured in Bothwell's Towers, at times the Brave

( So beautiful is Clyde ) forgot to mourn

The liberty they lost at Bannockburn.

Once on those steeps I roamedat large, and have

In mind the landscape, as if still in sight;

The river glides, the woods before me wave;

Then why repine that now in vain I crave

Needless renewal of an old delight?

Better to thank a dear and long-past day

For joy its sunny hours were free to give

Than blame the present, that our wish hath crost.

Memory, like sleep, hath powers which dreams obey,

Dreams, vivid dreams, that are not fugitive:

How little that she cherishes is lost!