Sweet were his words when last we met; My passion I as freely told him: That I should never more behold him. It vanish'd with a shriek of sorrow : And gave a doleful groan through Yarrow. His mother from the window look’d, With all the longing of a mother; The greenwood path to meet her brother: They sought him all the forest thorough ; They only heard the roar of Yarrow. No longer from thy window look ; Thou hast no son, thou tender mother! Alas, thou hast no more a brother! No longer search the forest thorough ; He fell a lifeless corpse in Yarrow. а The tear shall never leave my cheek, No other youth shall be my marrow; And then with thee I'll sleep in Yarrow. No other youth became her marrow; And now with him she sleeps in Yarrow. This beautiful song was founded upon the well-known story made immortal in the ballads of Scotland, both old and new. There are several versions—the story being the same in each, but in none of them told so exquisitely as by Mr. William Hamilton of Bangour, in his ballad commencing, “Busk ye, busk ye, my bonnie, bonnie bride!” and rendered still more famous than it formerly was by the fine poem of Wordsworth, “Yarrow Unvisited.” THE FLOWERS OF THE FOREST. FIRST VERSION. JANE ELLIOT, about the year 1750. I've heard the lilting at our yowe-milking, Lasses a lilting before the dawn of day; The Flowers of the Forest are a' wede away. At bughts in the morning nae blythe lads are scorning, The lassies are lonely and dowie and wae ; Ilk ane lifts her leglen and hies her away. In hairst at the shearing nae youths now are jeering, The bandsters are lyart and runkled and grey; The Flowers of the Forest are a' wede away. At e'en at the gloaming nae swankies are roaming 'Bout stacks wi' the lasses at bogle to play ; But ilk ane sits dreary, lamenting her dearie The Flowers of the Forest are a’wede away. Dule and wae for the order sent our lads to the border! The English for ance by guile won the day; The prime o' our land, are cauld in the clay. We hear nae mair lilting at our yowe-milking, Women and bairns are heartless and wae; The Flowers of the Forest are a' wede away. The “Flowers of the Forest” were the young men of the districts of Selkirkshire and Peebleshire, anciently known as “The Forest." The song is founded by the authoress upon an older composition of the same name, deploring the loss of the Scotch at Flodden Field. THE FLOWERS OF THE FOREST. SECOND VERSION. Mrs. COCKBURN, born about the year 1710, died 1794. I've seen the smiling Of fortune beguiling; Sweet was its blessing, Kind its caressing ; I've seen the forest Adorn'd the foremost Sae bonnie was their blooming, Their scent the air perfuming; I've seen the morning With gold the hills adorning, I've seen Tweed's silver streams beams O fickle Fortune, Why this cruel sporting; Nae mair your smiles can cheer me, Nae mair your frowns can fear me; This song is an imitation, but not a good one, of Miss Elliot's, and appear a originally in Herd's Collection in 1776. The moon had climb’d the highest hill Which rises o’er the source of Dee, And from the eastern summit shed Her silver light on tower and tree, When Mary laid her down to sleep, Her thoughts on Sandy far at sea ; When soft and low a voice was heard, Saying, “ Mary, weep no more for me!" She from her pillow gently raised Her head, to ask who there might be, And saw young Sandy shivering stand, With visage pale and hollow ee; “O) Mary dear, cold is my clay, It lies beneath a stormy sea ; So, Mary, weep no more for me! Three stormy nights and stormy days We toss'd upon the raging main, But all our striving was in vain. My heart was fill’d with love for thee: So, Mary, weep no more for me! We soon shall meet upon that shore And thou and I shall part no more !” No more of Sandy could she see ; “Sweet Mary, weep no more for me!" LOGIE O' BUCHAN. GEORGE HALKET, died 1756. O LOGIE o’ Buchan, O Logie the laird ! Ι And I'll come back and see thee in spite of them a'. He said, Think na lang, &c. re na haef sae dear to me, Jamie, as you. They're |