In some complaining, dim retreat, Does then the bard sleep here indeed? Was moved; and in this way expressed But something deeper far than these: TO A HIGHLAND GIRL. (AT INVERSNAID, UPON LOCH LOMOND.) SWEET Highland Girl, a very shower Of beauty is thy earthly dower! Twice seven consenting years have shed Their utmost bounty on thy head: And these gray rocks; this household laws; These trees, a veil just half withdrawn ; This fall of water, that doth make A murmur near the silent lake; This little bay, a quiet road Like something fashioned in a dream; With earnest feeling I shall pray Remote from men, thou dost not need What hand but would a garland cul! Thy father, anything to thee! Now thanks to Heaven! that of its grace Hath led me to this lonely place. Joy have I had; and going hence ; THE SOLITARY REAPER. BEHOLD her, single in the field, No nightingale did ever chaunt No sweeter voice was ever heard Will no one tell me what she sings? Or is it some more humble lay, Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain, ¡See the various poems the scene of which is laid upon the Banks of the Yarrow; in particular, the exquisite ballad of Hamilton, beginning— "Busk ye, busk ye, my bonny, bonny bride, FROM Stirling Castle we had seen Had trod the banks of Clyde, and Tay, "There's Galla Water, Leader Haughs, And Dryburgh, where with chiming Tweed There's pleasant Teviotdale, a land Made blithe with plough and harrow: "What's Yarrow but a river bare 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. 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 'tis fair "Twill be another Yarrow! "If care with freezing years should come, And wandering seem but folly, *See Hamilton's ballad, as above. Should we be loth to stir from home Should life be dull, and spirits low. YARROW VISITED SEPTEMBER 1814 AND is this-Yarrow?-This the stream O that some minstrel's harp were there And chase this silence from the air, For not a feature of those hills 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 His bed perchance was yon smooth moll On which the herd is feeding: And haply from this crystal pool, The water-wraith ascended thrice And gave his doleful warning. Delicious is the lay that sings The haunts of happy lovers, 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; |