“Sweet Teviot, on thy silver tide
The glaring bale-fires blaze no more:
No longer steel-clad warriors ride
Along thy wild and willow’d shore:
Where’er thou wind’st, by dale or hill,
All, all is peaceful, all is still,
As if thy waves, since time was born,
Since first they roll’d upon the Tweed,
Had only heard the shepherd’s reed,
Nor started at the bugle horn.”

Introduction to Canto IV of the
Lay of the Last Minstrel.