To celebrate National Poetry Day, we are publishing poems all day across our different blogs.
The Identity project is all about people passing through Greenock, some staying with their traditions and stories, others moving on elsewhere. Someone who passed through Greenock on his "Highland Tour" was the Romantic poet, William Wordsworth...in his short stay, here is what he had to say about the town...
We have not passed into a doleful City,
We who were led to-day down a grim dell,
By some too boldly named “the Jaws of Hell”
Where be the wretched ones, the sights for pity?
These crowded streets resound no plaintive ditty
As from the hive where bees in summer dwell,
Sorrow seems here excluded; and that knell,
It neither damps the gay, nor checks the witty.
Alas! too busy Rival of old Tyre,
Whose merchants Princes were, whose decks were thrones;
Soon may the punctual sea in vain respire
To serve thy need, in union with that Clyde
Whose nursling current brawls o’er mossy stones,
The poor, the lonely, herdsman’s joy and pride.