Henry Glassford Bell

Cadzow

THE BIRDS are singing by Avon Bridge,
  The sky is blue o’er Chatelrault,
And all through Cadzow’s wooded glades
  The softest airs of summer blow.

O birds that sing by Avon Bridge,
  Why should your notes so richly flow?
O tranquil sky of cloudless blue,
  Why shine so bright o’er Chatelrault?

O Avon! rolling gently down,
  Why keep’st thou that old tuneful tone?
Where is the voice so soft and low
  Whose music echoed back thy own?

O Cadzow! why this rustling pomp
  Of leafy boughs that wave so high?
Where is the light that gleamed through all
  Thy shadowy paths in days gone by?

O summer airs! why thus recall
  The sweeter breath, that seemed to bring
The balmy dews of southern skies,
  And all the roses of the spring!