Page:Songs of the Road Doyle.djvu/137

Rh Famous for great Wordsworth's sake;

Grasmere next appeared in sight,

Grim Helvellyn on the right,

Till we made our downward way

To the streets of Keswick gray.

Then amid a weary waste

On to Penrith Town we raced,

And for many a flying mile,

Past the ramparts of Carlisle,

Till we crossed the border line

Of the land of Auld lang syne.

Here we paused at Gretna Green,

Where many curious things were seen

At the grimy blacksmith's shop,

Where flying couples used to stop

And forge within the smithy door

The chain which lasts for evermore.

They'd soon be back again, I think,

If blacksmith's skill could break the link.