339 Like auld philosophorum? Wi' neither sense, nor mirth, nor wit, To the reel o' Tullochgorum? And a' that's gude watch o'er him! And dainties a great store o' them! And discontent devour him! May dule and sorrow be his chance, And nane say 'Wae's me for him!' MICHAEL BRUCE [1746-1767] TO THE CUCKOO HAIL! beauteous Stranger of the wood! Attendant on the Spring! Now heav'n repairs thy rural seat, And woods thy welcome sing. Soon as the daisy decks the green, Delightful visitant! with thee I hail the time of flow'rs, When heav'n is fill'd with music sweet The schoolboy wand'ring in the wood Soon as the pea puts on the bloom, Sweet bird! thy bow'r is ever green, Thy sky is ever clear; Thou hast no sorrow in thy song, No winter in thy year! Alas! sweet bird! not so my fate, Dark scowling skies I see Fast gathering round, and fraught with woe And wintry years to me. O could I fly, I'd fly with thee: 340 GEORGE HALKET LOGIE O' BUCHAN O LOGIE O' Buchan, O Logie the laird, They ha'e ta'en awa' Jamie, that delved in the yaird, He said, 'Think na lang, lassie, though I gang awa'!' And I'll come and see thee in spite o' them a'!' Though Sandy has ousen, has gear, and has kye, My daddy looks sulky, my minnie looks sour; I sit on my creepie, I spin at my wheel, Then haste ye back, Jamie, and bide na awa'! 341 WILLIAM HAMILTON OF BANGOUR [1704-1754] THE BRAES OF YARROW 'BUSK ye, busk ye, my bonnie, bonnie bride! 'Where got ye that bonnie, bonnie bride? 'Weep not, weep not, my bonnie, bonnie bride! Pu'ing the birks on the braes of Yarrow.' 'Why does she weep, thy bonnie, bonnie bride? And why dare ye nae mair weel be seen Pu'ing the birks on the braes of Yarrow?' 'Lang maun she weep, lang maun she, maun she weep, Lang maun she weep with dule and sorrow; And lang maun I nae weel be seen Pu'ing the birks on the braes of Yarrow.` 'For she has tint her lover, lover dear— That ever pu'ed birks on the braes of Yarrow. "Why runs thy stream O Yarrow, Yarrow, reid? Hung on the bonnie birks of Yarrow. 'What's yonder floats on the rueful, rueful flood? Upon the duleful braes of Yarrow. 'Wash, O wash his wounds, his wounds in tears, And lay him on the braes of Yarrow. Then build, then build, ye sisters, sisters sad, And weep around, in woeful wise, His hapless fate on the braes of Yarrow. 'Curse ye, curse ye, his useless, useless shield, 'Did I not warn thee not to, not to love, And warn from fight? But, to my sorrow, Too rashly bold, a stronger arm Thou met'st, and fell on the braes of Yarrow.' 'Sweet smells the birk, green grows, green grows the grass, Yellow on Yarrow's braes the gowan; Fair hangs the apple frae the rock, Sweet the wave of Yarrow flowing!' 'Flows Yarrow sweet? As sweet, as sweet flows Tweed; As green its grass, its gowan as yellow; As sweet smells on its braes the birk, 'Fair was thy love, fair, fair indeed thy love; |