The quiet Roch comes dancing down
From breezy moorland hills;
It wanders through my native town,
With its bonny tribute rills.
Oh, gentle Roch, my native stream!
Oft, when a careless boy,
I've prattled to thee, in a dream,
As thou went singing by.
Oft, on thy breast, my tiny barge
I've sailed, in thoughtless glee;
And roved in joy thy posied marge,
That first grew green to me.
I've paddled in thy waters clear,
In childhood's happy days;
Change as thou wilt, to me thou'rt dear
While life's warm current plays.
Like thee, my little life glides down
To the great absorbing main,
From whose mysterious deeps unknown
We ne'er return again.
Edwin Waugh was born in Rochdale. The Lancashire Burns made his name writing of the landscape and life of his surrounding Lancashire.
Roch is usually pronounced "Roach", even though the town is pronounced "Rotch".