Page:The Book of Scottish Song.djvu/471

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[ song," says Mr. Robert Chambers, "is little better than a string of names of places. Yet there is something so pleasing in it, especially to the ear of a south-country man,' that it has long maintained its place in our collections. We all know what impressive verse Milton makes out of mere catalogues of localities. The author,, is supposed to have been one of the last of the old race of minstrels. In an old collection of songs, in their original state of ballants, I have seen his name printed as 'Burne the violer,' which seems to indicate the instrument upon which he was in the practice of accompanying his recitations. I was told by an aged person at Earlston, that there used to be a portrait of him in Thirlstane Castle, representing him as a douce old man, leading a cow by a straw-rope. Thirlstane Castle, the seat of the Earl of Lauderdale, near Lauder, is the castle of which the poet speaks in such terms of admiration. It derives the massive beauties of its architecture from the Duke of Lauderdale, who built it, as the date above the door-way testifies, in the year 1674. The song must therefore have been composed since that era. It was printed in the Tea-Table Miscellany, which, taken in connection with the last stanza, seems to point out that it was written at some of the periods of national commotion between the reign of the last Charles and the first George—probably the Union. The Blainslie oats are still in repute, being used in many places for seed; and Lauderdale still boasts of all the other pleasant farms and estates which are here so endearingly commemorated by the poet."]

Phœbus bright the azure skies

With golden rays enlight'neth,

He makes all nature's beauties rise,

Herbs, trees, and flowers he quick'neth:

Amongst all those he makes his choice,

And with delight goes thorow,

With radiant beams, the silver streams

Of Leader Haughs and Yarrow.

When Aries the day and night

In equal length divideth,

And frosty Saturn takes his flight,

Nae langer he abideth;

Then Flora queen, with mantle green,

Casts off her former sorrow,

And vows to dwell with Ceres' sel',

In Leader Haughs and Yarrow.

Pan, playing on his aiten reed,

And shepherds, him attending,

Do here resort, their flocks to feed,

The hills and haughs commending

With cur and kent, upon the bent,

Sing to the sun, Good-morrow,

And swear nae fields mair pleasures yield,

Than Leader Haughs and Yarrow.

A house there stands on Leader side,

Surmounting my descriving,

With rooms sae rare, and windows fair,

Like Daedalus' contriving:

Men passing by do aften cry,

In sooth it hath no marrow;

It stands as fair on Leader side,

As Newark does on Yarrow.

A mile below, who lists to ride,

Will hear the mavis singing;

Into St. Leonard's banks she bides,

Sweet birks her head owerhinging.

The lint-white loud, and Progne proud,

With tuneful throats and narrow,

Into St. Leonard's banks they sing,

As sweetly as in Yarrow.

The lapwing lilteth ower the lea,

With nimble wing she sporteth;

But vows she'll flee far from the tree

Where Philomel resorteth:

By break of day the lark can say,

I'll bid you a good morrow;

I'll stretch my wing, and, mounting, sing

O'er Leader Haughs and Yarrow.

Park, Wanton-wa's, and Wooden-cleuch,

The East and Wester Mainses,

The wood of Lauder's fair eneuch,

The corns are good in the Blainslies:

There aits are fine, and said by kind,

That if ye search all thorough

Mearns, Buchan, Marr, nane better are

Than Leader Haughs and Yarrow.

In Burn-mill-bog and Whitslaid Shaws

The fearful hare she haunteth;

Brig-haugh and Braidwoodsheil she knaws,

And Chapel wood frequenteth: