Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain,
That has been, and may be again?
Whate'er the theme, the maiden sang
As if her song could have no ending;
I saw her singing at her work,
And o'er the sickle bending.
I listened till I had my fill;
And when I mounted up the hill,
The music in my heart I bore
Long after it was heard no more.
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,
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,
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,
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 ;
There's pleasant Tiviotdale, 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,
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,
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,
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.
'Let beeves and home-bred kine partake
The sweets of Burn-mill meadow,
The swan on still Saint Mary's Lake
Float double, swan and shadow!
We will not see them, will not go
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 :
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,
'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,
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!'
'SHE WAS A PHANTOM OF DELIGHT.'
SHE was a phantom of delight
When first she gleamed upon my sight,
A lovely apparition, sent
To be a moment's ornament:
Her eyes as stars of twilight fair,
Like twilight's, too, her dusky hair;
But all things else about her drawn
From May-time and the cheerful dawn—
A dancing shape, an image gay,
To haunt, to startle, and waylay.
I saw her upon nearer view,
A spirit, yet a woman too!
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