Poems with rhymes of tyne

O now that the genius of Bewick were mine,
And the skill which he learned on the banks of the Tyne.

From Yarrow to the Tyne,'
Soft sigh'd the maid, 'is Harden's heir,
But ne'er can he be mine;

I wish him dool and pyne!
Till he had fifteen hundred men
Assembled on the Tyne.

And Hobie has mounted his grey sae fine,
Jock his lively bay, Wat's on his white horse behind,
And on they rode for the water o Tyne.

And the weather at the time, was really very fine,
On the morning that the ill-fated vessel left the Tyne.

And rugged deeds recount in rugged line,
Of moonlight foray made on Teviot, Tweed, or Tyne.

Red rose leaves will never make wine;
But before the Easter lights begun;
The ways are sair fra’ the Till to the Tyne.

And bids her armour shine,
She'll not forget the famous North,
The lads of moor and Tyne;

Clanging from the Severn to the Tyne!
Never was a blacksmith like our Norman King--
England's being hammered, hammered, hammered into line!

Now was the North in arms:--they shine
In warlike trim from Tweed to Tyne,

An’ brush ‘em ‘til they’d shine;
By gaw, they were a sight an’ all.
They’d shimmer like the Tyne.

'My father liv'd beside the Tyne,
A wealthy lord was he;
And all his wealth was mark'd as mine,