On Yarrow's banks let herons feed, There's Galla Water, Leader Haughs, And Dryborough, where with chiming Tweed There's pleasant Tiviot-dale, a land 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 ! "Oh! 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. * See Hamilton's Ballad as above. O'er hilly path, and open Strath, But, though so near, we will not turn Let beeves and home-bred kine partake Be Yarrow stream unseen, unknown! Ah! why should we undo it? The treasured dreams of times long past, If Care with freezing years should come, Should life be dull, and spirits low, The bonny holms of Yarrow !" 1803 XLVIII MOST sweet it is with unuplifted eyes To pace the ground, if path be there or none, Pleased rather with some soft ideal scene, If Thought and Love desert us, from that day Let us break off all commerce with the Muse: With Thought and Love companions of our way, Whate'er the senses take or may refuse, The Mind's internal heaven shall shed her dews Of inspiration on the humblest lay. XLIX YARROW VISITED, SEPTEMBER, 1814 AND is this-Yarrow ?-This the Stream So faithfully, a waking dream? O that some Minstrel's harp were near, And chase this silence from the air, Yet why ?-a silvery current flows For not a feature of those hills Is in the mirror slighted. A blue sky bends o'er Yarrow vale, Mild dawn of promise! that excludes Though not unwilling here to admit Where was it that the famous Flower Of Yarrow Vale lay bleeding? His bed perchance was yon smooth mound Delicious is the Lay that sings The path that leads them to the grove, The leafy grove that covers: And Pity sanctifies the Verse That paints, by strength of sorrow, The unconquerable strength of love; Bear witness, rueful Yarrow ! But thou, that didst appear so fair To fond imagination, Dost rival in the light of day Her delicate creation: |