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Yarrow UnvisitedYarrow Unvisited
Yarrow Unvisited
From Stirling Castle we had seen
The mazy Forth unravell`d,
Had trod the banks of Clyde and Tay,
And with the Tweed had travell`d;
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, `tis 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 Dryburgh, where with chiming Tweed
The lintwhites sing in chorus;
There`s pleasant Teviotdale, a land
Made blythe 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 seem`d of slight and scorn;
My true - love sigh`d for sorrow,
And look`d 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 `tis fair,
`Twill be another Yarrow!
`If care with freezing years should come
And wandering seem but folly, -
Should we be loth to stir from home,
And yet be melancholy;
Should life be dull, and spirits low,
`Twill soothe us in our sorrow
That earth has something yet to show,
The bonny holms of Yarrow!`
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