Verses On The Calder In It's Course By St. Enoch's, Rosehall, &C. Poem by Janet Hamilton

Lone Calder! sweet Calder! beloved of my youth,
When Nature I worshipped with fervour and truth;
Sweet memories float like a beautiful dream
O'er thy musical woodlands and murmuring stream.


'Tis fifty long years sincé, and now as I range
Thy flower-spangled margin, alas, for the change!
My youthful companions, ah! where have ye fled?
Sweet, sad voices whisper, They sleep with the dead.


Bright, golden-haired Bella, dear, delicate Anne,
And warm-hearted Jessie, how swiftly ye ran
Down the dell of the hyacinth your cousin to meet,
And guide through the Calder her small, shrinking feet!


Then o'er thy green holms we went bounding along,
And woke up the echoes with laughter and song;
With freedom and sunshine, with birds, and with flowers,
And young hearts all joyous, how swift sped the hours!


Dear Jessie, thou only, of all the blithe train,
Art left-shall I ever behold thee again?
Thy pale, gentle mother went early to rest,
And her dear ones soon followed to sleep on her breast.


Sweet sylvan, St Enoch's fond mem'ry recalls
Sweet voices, fair faces, that dwelt in thy halls-
'Tis long since they left, and the stranger possessed
The home of their fathers-the dearest, the best.


From thy desolate chambers, Oh lonely Rosehall!
The dwellers have vanished-'the steed from the stall;'
The hearts that have loved thee and owned thee are dust,
And thy chill halls are tarnished with mildew and rust.


Though garlands of poesy entwine not thy brow,
Nor bard in soft numbers thy charms will avow;
Yet, Calder, a muse that is nameless will bring
A song that is nameless thy beauties to sing.