But the stream went singing onward, went singing by the weir—
And this, or something like it, was the song I seemed to hear:—
"By Teviot, Tees and Avon, by Esk and Ure and Tweed,
Here's many a trusty henchman would rally to your need;
By Itchen, Test and Waveney, by Tamar, Trent and Ouse,
Here's many a loyal servant will help you if you choose.
"Do they no longer need us who needed us of yore?
We stood not still aforetime when England marched to war;
Like those our wind-driven brothers, far seen o'er weald and fen,
We ground the wheat and barley to feed stout Englishmen.