| |
| FROM Stirling castle we had seen | |
| The mazy Forth unravelled; | |
| Had trod the banks of Clyde and Tay, | |
| And with the Tweed had travelled; | |
| And when we came to Clovenford, | 5 |
| Then said my “winsome marrow,” | |
| “Whate’er betide, we ’ll turn aside, | |
| And see the braes of Yarrow.” | |
| |
| “Let Yarrow folk, frae Selkirk town, | |
| Who have been buying, selling, | 10 |
| Go back to Yarrow; ’t is their own,— | |
| Each maiden to her dwelling! | |
| On Yarrow’s banks let herons feed, | |
| Hares couch, and rabbits burrow! | |
| But we will downward with the Tweed, | 15 |
| Nor turn aside to Yarrow. | |
| |
| “There ’s Galla Water, Leader Haughs, | |
| Both lying right before us; | |
| And Dryborough, where with chiming Tweed | |
| The lintwhites sing in chorus; | 20 |
| There ’s pleasant Teviot-dale, a land | |
| Made blithe with plough and harrow: | |
| Why throw away a needful day | |
| To go in search of Yarrow? | |
| |
| “What ’s Yarrow but a river bare, | 25 |
| That glides the dark hills under? | |
| There are a thousand such elsewhere, | |
| As worthy of your wonder.” | |
| Strange words they seemed, of slight and scorn; | |
| My true-love sighed for sorrow, | 30 |
| And looked me in the face, to think | |
| I thus could speak of Yarrow! | |
| |
| “O, green,” said I, “are Yarrow’s holms, | |
| And sweet is Yarrow flowing! | |
| Fair hangs the apple frae the rock, | 35 |
| But we will leave it growing. | |
| O’er hilly path and open strath | |
| We ’ll wander Scotland thorough; | |
| But, though so near, we will not turn | |
| Into the dale of Yarrow. | 40 |
| |
| “Let beeves and homebred kine partake | |
| The sweets of Burn-mill meadow; | |
| The swan on still St. Mary’s Lake | |
| Float double, swan and shadow! | |
| We will not see them; will not go | 45 |
| To-day, nor yet to-morrow; | |
| Enough, if in our hearts we know | |
| There ’s such a place as Yarrow. | |
| |
| “Be Yarrow stream unseen, unknown! | |
| It must, or we shall rue it: | 50 |
| We have a vision of our own; | |
| Ah! why should we undo it? | |
| The treasured dreams of times long past, | |
| We ’ll keep them, winsome marrow! | |
| For when we ’re there, although ’t is fair, | 55 |
| ’T will be another Yarrow! | |
| |
| “If care with freezing years should come, | |
| And wandering seem but folly,— | |
| Should we be loath to stir from home, | |
| And yet be melancholy,— | 60 |
| Should life be dull, and spirits low, | |
| ’T will soothe us in our sorrow, | |
| That earth has something yet to show,— | |
| The bonny holms of Yarrow!” | |
| |
