Poems: By the Rev. Mr. Logan, One of the Ministers of Leith

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T. Cadell, 1781 - 118 pages

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Page 4 - I'd fly with thee! We'd make, with joyful wing, Our annual visit o'er the globe, Companions of the Spring. THE BRAES OF YARROW "Thy braes were bonny, Yarrow stream! When first on them I met my lover; Thy braes how dreary, Yarrow stream! When now thy waves his body cover! For ever 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 2 - The schoolboy, wandering through the wood To pull the primrose gay, Starts, the new voice of spring to hear, And imitates thy lay. What time the pea puts on the bloom, Thou fliest thy vocal vale, An annual guest in other lands, Another spring to hail. Sweet bird ! thy bower is ever green, Thy sky is ever clear ; Thou hast no sorrow in thy song, No winter in thy year ! O, could I fly, I'd fly with thee ! We'd make, with joyful wing, Our annual visit o'er the globe, Companions of the spring.
Page 104 - In her right hand she holds to view A length of happy years ; And in her left the prize of fame, And honour bright appears.
Page 95 - Determined are the days that fly Successive o'er thy head ; The number'd hour is on the wing, That lays thee with the dead.
Page 5 - His mother from the window look'd, With all the longing of a mother; His little sister weeping walk'd 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.
Page 106 - On mountain tops, above the hills, And draw the wondering eyes. To this the joyful nations round, All tribes and tongues shall flow ; Up to the hill of God, they'll say, And to His house we'll go.
Page 117 - Though now ascended up on high, He bends on earth a brother's eye ; Partaker of the human name, He knows the frailty of our frame.
Page 49 - Intrusion marr'd the tender hour, A demon started in the bower ; If, like the past, the future run, And my dark day is but begun, What clouds may hang above my head ? What tears may I have yet to shed...
Page 6 - They only saw the cloud of night, They only heard the roar of Yarrow ! No longer from thy 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...
Page 7 - I'll seek thy body in the stream, And then 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 now with him she sleeps in Yarrow.

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