’O tell sweet Willie to come doun And hear the mavis singing, And see the birds on ilka bush And leaves around them hinging
’The lav’rock there, wi’ her white breast And gentle throat sae narrow: There’s sport eneuch for gentlemen On Leader-haughs and Yarrow.
’O Leader-haughs are wide and braid And Yarrow-haughs are bonny; There Willie hecht to marry me If e’er he married ony.
’But Willie’s gone, whom I thought on, And does not hear me weeping; Draws many a tear frae true love’s e’e When other maids are sleeping.
’O came ye by yon water-side? Pou’d you the rose or lily? Or came you by yon meadow green, Or saw you my sweet Willie?’
She sought him up, she sought him down, She sought him braid and narrow; Syne, in the cleaving of a craig, She found him drown’d in Yarrow!
Unknown.
[ THE REVERIE OF POOR SUSAN]
At the corner of Wood Street, when daylight appears, Hangs a Thrush that sings loud, it has sung for three years: Poor Susan has passed by the spot, and has heard In the silence of morning the song of the Bird.