REFLECTIONS COMPOSED IN LIVEBPOOL.
I've stood on the top of Barrule,
And walked over steep Cronk-ny-Harrey;
I've stood on the smummit of Mull,
And climbed the steep cliffs of the Staggey.
I've scaled the rude walls of Rabouge[illegible]
And bathed in sweet Caatruan's harbour;
And sat on the heather that robes
The Hills and the valleys with verdure[illegible].
I've robbed the seagull of her young,
And in the rude rocks I have angled,
And little red "bollans" have hung
From the point of my fishing-rod dangled.
I've followed the stream in the glen
And seen it fall into the ocean.
I've plucked the primrose in the fen,
And stuck it to bloom in my bosom.
I've traversed the shore all around,
And heard the dread hurricane roaring;
I've sheltered in caves underground,
Whilst rain-drops in torrents were pouring.
I've walked o'er the hills in moonlight,
And seen the gay lark in the morning;
I've seen the sun setting at night,
And seen it in glory returning
I've sailed round the little Calf Island,
And sighed when the flowers were dead;
I've gazed on the billows so wild,
From the summit of proud Spanish Head.
But now far away from the scene,
Yet distance nor time can efface;
Though billows are rolling between
Me and the rude hills of Cregneish.
