Quotes About Rill

The stag at eve had drunk his fill,Where danced the moon on Monan's rill,And deep his midnight lair had madeIn lone Glenartney's hazel shade.

On every thorn, delightful wisdom grows, In every rill a sweet instruction flows.

On every thorn, delightful wisdom grows, In every rill a sweet instruction flows.

The beautiful feet of the summer, So late by the woodland and rill, With slow, lingering movement are going Down the brown, southern slopes of the hills; Her dreamy-eyed sister, the autumn, Looks down at the summer-clad trees, And, 'neath her cool breathing, a garment Of brown is put on by the leaves.