A VOICE FROM THE LYNE VALLEY TO THE DWELLERS OF TWEEDALE.

A poem for Queen Victoria's Jubilee (revisited in Queen Elizabeth's Golden Jubille Year).

Awake, ye loyal people by the Leithen, Quair, and Tweed,
And ye who dwell by Tarth, Powsail, by Talla, Holm, and Fruid;
In valleys, towns, and villages, be this the one desire,
To have that day with pleasure fraught, that evening crowned with fire.

Yes, let the shouts of mirth be heard from every height to wake,
From domes and stately peaks that rise by river, glen, and lake;
Yea, let the bonfire glint a gleam o'er ev'ry hope and dell,
From Craigengarr to lone Broadlaw, Cairn Mount to proud Hartfell.

Let Scrape and Dollar Law be lit, 'mid night's calm, peaceful reign,
Drummelzier's ridges, Stanhope, and the stately Pyket Stane;
On proud Dundrough, on Meldon's height, bright be the fitful gleam,
Whereof in dark days of the past the Druid's fire did stream.

Nor let unto the humbler heights the honour be denied -
Kingseat, Drummaw, the Kellylaws, Grange, Rogercraig, Whiteside,
Torbank, Cademuir, and Hamildoun, and heights with woodlands crowned.
Those ancients as do sentinels, the Burgh Royal surround.

And light ye up the beacon fire on every border tower
That's stood the blast of ages past up to this happy hour;
The'll wake no feelings of alarm, all thoughts of terror cease,
Our Sovereign's happy reign is one of safety and of peace.

Thus shall the day be rendered great in legend and in song,
And happiest of memories shall cluster round it long;
And thus our children's children will in future ages glean
How Tweedale's sons their loyalties gave, to so venerable a Queen.

Robert Sanderson (1836-1902)

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