Leader-haughs and Yarow.
To its own proper Tune.
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WHen Phoebus bright the Azure Skies
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with golden rayes enlightneth,
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These things sublunar he espies,
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herbs, trees, and plants he quick'neth:
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Among all those he makes his choise,
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and gladlie goes he thorow,
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With radiant beams, and silver streams,
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through Leader-Haughs and Yarow.
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When Aries the day and night
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in equal length divideth,
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Old frosty Saturn takes the flight
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no longer he abideth:
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Then Flora Queen, with Mantle green,
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casts off her deadly sorrow,
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And vows to dwell with Ceres sell
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in Leader-Haughs and Yarrow.
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Pan playing with his Oaten Reed,
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with shepherds him attending,
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Doth here resort their flocks to feed,
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the hills and haughs commending;
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With bottle, bag, and staff with knag,
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and all singing good morrow;
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They swear no fields more pleasure yields
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than Leader-haughs and Yarrow.
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One house there stands on Leader side,
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surmounting my descryving,
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With ease-rooms rare, and windows fair,
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like Daedalus contriving:
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Men passing by, do often say,
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in south it hath no marrow;
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It stands as fair on Leader side,
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as New-wark does on Yarrow.
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A mile below, who list to ride,
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they'l hear the Mavis singing;
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Into St. Leonards Bank she'l bide,
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sweet Birks her head o're-hinging:
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The Lintwhite loud, and Progne proud,
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with tender throats and narrow,
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Into St. Leonards Banks do sing
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as sweetlie as in Yarrow.
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The Lapwing lilteth o're the Lee,
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with nimble wings she sporteth;
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But vows she'l not come near the tree
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where Philomel resorteth:
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By break of day the Lark can say,
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I'le bid you all good-morrow;
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I'le yout and yell for I may dwell
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in Leader-haughs and Yarow.
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Park, Wanton-walls, and Wooden-Cleugh,
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the East and Wester Mainses,
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The Forrest of Lawder's fair enough,
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the Corns are good in Blainslies;
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Where Oats are fine, and sold by kind,
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that if ye search all thorow
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Mearns, Buchan, Marr, none better are,
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than Leader-haughs and Yarow.
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In Burn-Miln Boge, & White-slede shaws,
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the fearful Hare she haunteth;
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Bridge-baugh & Broad-wood sheil she knaws
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to the Chapel-wood frequenteth:
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Yet when she irks, to Kaidslie Birks
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she runs and sighs for sorrow,
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That she should leave sweet Leader haughs
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and cannot win to Yarow.
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What sweetet musick would you hear,
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than Hounds and Beigles crying?
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The Hare waits not, but flees for fear,
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their hard pursuits defying.
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But yet her strength it fails at length,
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no beilding can she borrow
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At Haggs, Cleckmae, nor Sorlesfield,
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but longs to be at Yarow.
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For Rock-wood, Rink-wood, Rival, Aimer,
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still thinking for to view her,
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But O to fail her strength begins,
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no cunning can rescue her:
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O're dubb and dyke, o're seugh and syke,
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she[']l run the fields all thorow;
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Yet ends her days in Leader-haughs,
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and bids farwell to Yarow.
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Thou Erslingtonn and Colding-knowes,
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where Humes had once commanding
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And Dry Grange with thy milk white Ews
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Tweed and Leader standing:
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The birds that flees through Red-path trees
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and Gledswood Banke all thorow,
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May chant and sing, sweet Leader-haughs,
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and the bonny Banks of Yarrow.
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But Burn cannot his grief asswage,
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while as his days endureth,
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To see the changes of his age,
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which day and time procureth.
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For many a place stands in hard case,
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where Burns was blyth besorrow,
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With Humes that dwelt on Leader side,
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and Scots that dwelt in Yarow.
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The Words of Burn the Violer.
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WHat? shall my Viol silent be,
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or leave her wonted scriding?
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But choise some sadder Elegie,
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no sports and mirds deriding?
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It must be fain with lower strain,
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than it was wont besorrow,
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To sound the praise of Leader-haughs,
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and the bonny Banks of Yarrow.
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But Floods have overflown the Banks,
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the greenish Haughs disgracing,
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And Trees in Woods grows thin in ranks
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about the fields defacing.
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For Waters waxes, Woods doth waind,
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more, if could for sorrow,
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In rural Verse, I could rehearse,
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of Leader-haughs and Yarow.
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But sighs and sobs o'rsets my breath,
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sore saltish tears forth sending.
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All things Sublunar here on earth
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are subject to an ending;
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So must my Song, though somewhat long,
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yet late at even and morrow,
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I'le sigh and sing, sweet Leader-haughs,
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and the bony Banks of Yarow.
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