Twas night I stood by <Avons> Tweeds fair stream
Methought It sung a dirge for him
Who once on its green borders drew
The fanciful the fairy crew
And seemed a voice in measured tone
To breathe a melancholy moan
And whispring <sedgy> sullen soundings sighed
As mingling with the murmuring tide
And sorrowing <sounds> notes of woe they gave
As floating on the mystic wave
And with the waters born along
They joined with every zephyrs song
The billows wept that they no more 
When rolling towrds the hallowed shore
Might dance unto the living lays
That minstrels magic <hand> voice could raise
Where every mocking mountain <sun> rung
With the rich numbers that he sung
Where piney forests when he spoke
Their hoary locks in wonder shook
And bent their <hoary> spiry heads when he 
Charmed Scotlands hills with melody  Oct