River Clyde

“Ballad of the Clyde”

From Lanark’s hills where waters rise,
Beneath the ever-changing skies,
The River Clyde begins her song—
A silver thread that winds along.

She dances past the wooded glen,
Through fields once tilled by ancient men,
Her voice a hush, then bold and wide,
The living heart of Scotland’s pride.

She carved her path through time and toil,
Fed shipyard dreams and soot-stained soil,
Where hammers rang and steel was born,
And steamships sailed at break of morn.

The cranes now rest, the docks lie still,
Yet echoes linger, strong and shrill—
Of workers’ hands and sirens’ cry,
Of smoke that once adorned the sky.

But still she flows, serene and deep,
Through Glasgow’s pulse, through memories steeped,
Reflecting towers, bridges, light,
A mirror to both day and night.

O Clyde, you carry tales untold,
Of battles fought and dreams grown old,
Yet in your depths, the future gleams—
A river full of restless dreams.