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Poem by John Logan The Braes of Yarrow THY braes were bonnie, Yarrow stream, When first on them I met my lover; Thy braes how dreary, Yarrow stream, When now thy waves his body cover! Forever, now, O Yarrow stream! Thou art to me a stream of sorrow; For never on thy banks shall I Behold my love, the flower of Yarrow! He promised me a milk-white steed, To bear me to his father’s bowers; He promised me a little page, To squire me to his father’s towers; He promised me a wedding-ring,— The wedding-day was fixed to-morrow: Now he is wedded to his grave, Alas, his watery grave in Yarrow! Sweet were his words when last we met, My passion as I freely told him; Clasped in his arms, I little thought That I should nevermore behold him. Scarce was he gone, I saw his ghost,— It vanished with a shriek of sorrow; Thrice did the Water Wraith ascend, And give a doleful groan through Yarrow! His mother from the window looked, With all the longing of a mother; His little sister weeping walked The greenwood path to meet her brother: They sought him east, they sought him west, They sought him all the forest thorough; They only saw the cloud of night, They only heard the roar of Yarrow. No longer from the window look; Thou hast no son, thou tender mother! No longer walk, thou lovely maid; Alas, thou hast no more a brother! No longer seek him east or west, No longer search the forest thorough; For wandering in the night so dark, He fell a lifeless corse in Yarrow. The tears shall never leave my cheek; No other youth shall be my marrow; I ’ll seek thy body in the stream, And there with thee I ’ll sleep in Yarrow! The tear did never leave her cheek: No other youth became her marrow; She found his body in the stream, And with him now she sleeps in Yarrow. John Logan Poem Theme: Yarrow (Scotland) Poems of the other poets with the same name: 1238 Views |
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