Beautiful silvery Tay,
With your landscapes, so lovely and gay,
Along each side of your waters, to Perth all the way;
No other river in the world has got scenery more fine,
Only I am told the beautiful Rhine,
Near to Wormit Bay, it seems very fine,
Where the Railway Bridge is towering above its waters sublime,
And the beautiful ship Mars,
With her Juvenile Tare,
Both lively and gay,
Does carelessly lie By night and by day,
In the beautiful Bay
Of the silvery Tay.
Beautiful, beautiful silvery Tay,
Thy scenery is enchanting on a fine summer day,
Near by Balnerino it is beautiful to behold,
When the trees are in full bloom and the cornfields seems like gold -
And nature's face seems gay,
And the lambkins they do play,
And the humming bee is on the wing,
It is enough to make one sing,
While they carelessly do stray,
Along the beautiful banks of the silvery Tay,
Beautiful silvery Tay,
Rolling smoothly on your way,
Near by Newport, as clear as the day,
Thy scenery around is charming I'll be bound…
And would make the heart of any one feel light and gay on a fine summer day,
To view the beautiful scenery along the banks of the silvery Tay.
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Comments
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I guess this is a solid example of a rhyme scheme, but, quite honestly, I can't stand rhyme. . . I think it's much too forceful in poetry, and I'd rather read a thousand essays than one rhyming poem. I'm not fond of the word choice. . . it wasn't strong at all. . . It isn't hardly descriptive, and I think I would have found it more enjoyable to have my nails ripped out by a condescending german dictator. . . .
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Truly awful. He's worth reading just to see how not to write, is ol' William. Mind you, if Billy Connolly is reading it doesn't sound quite so ghastly.

