Classic Poem

Where Speed rolls her waters
Away to the lake,
Through quiet green pastures
And tangled wood brake,
There lives a fair maiden
A monarch might own —
Yea, pledge for her favor
His kingdom and throne.

No cold marble beauty,
No angel, is she,
But a sweet mortal maiden
Who smiles upon me;
A creature of feeling,
Of hopes and of fears;
Of joys and of sorrows,
Of smiles and of tears.

She's fair as the gowan
On Scotia's green braes,
And dear as the mem'ry
Of youth's happy days;
Her ringlets are golden,
Her eyes are of blue,
And the heart in her bosom
Is tender and true.

That bosom's a fountain
Of thoughts pure and fair,
And the streams of affection
Are aye gushing there;
And long by that fountain
May peace spread her wing,
And joy love to linger,
And hope love to sing.

And ne'er may she sigh
O'er affection's decay,
O'er loves and o'er friendships
All faded away;
And faithful the lover
Who's favor'd to lead
To love's holy altar
The Flow'r of the Speed.