Broadside ballad entitled 'Leader-haughs and Yarow'

Transcription

Leader-haughs and Yarow.

To its own proper Tune.

WHen Phoebus bright the Azure Skies
with golden rayes enlightneth,
These things sublunar he espies,
herbs trees, and plants he quick'neth:
Among all those he makes his choise,
and gladlie goes he thorow,
With radiant beams, and silver streams,
through Leader-Haughs and Yarow.

When Aries the day and night
in equal length divideth,
Old frosty Saturn takes the flight
no longer he abideth :
Then flora Queen with Mantle green,
casts off her deadly sorrow,
And vows to dwell with Ceres sell
in Leader-Haughs and Yarrow.

Pan playing with his Oaten Reed,
with shepherds him attending,
Doth here resort their flocks to feed
the hills and haughs commending;
With bottle, bag, and staff with knag,
and all singing good morrow;
They Swear no fields more pleasure yields
than Leader-haughs and Yarrow.

One house there stands on Leader Gde,
surmouting my descryving,
With cafe-rooms rare, and windows fair,
like Daedalus contriving :
Men passing by, do often say,
in south it hath no marrow;
It stands as fair on Leader side,
as New-Wark does on Yarrow.

A mile below, who list to ride,
they'l hear the Mavis singing;
Into St. Leonards Bank she'l bide,
sweet Birks her head o're-hinging :
The Lintwhite loud, and Progue proud,
with tender throats and narrow,
Into St. Leenards Banks do sing
as Sweetlie as in Yarrow.

The Lapwing lilteth o're the Lee,
with nimble wings she sporteth;
But vows sha'l not come near the tree
where Philomel resorreth:
By break of day the Lark can say,
I'le bid you all good-morrow ;
I'le yout and yell for I may dwell
in Leader-haughs and Yarow.

Park Wanton walls, and Wooden Cleugh,
the East and Wester Mainses,
The Forrest of Lawder's fair enough,
the Corns are good in blainslies;
Where Oats are fine, and sold by kind,
that if we search all thorow
Mearns, Buchan, Marr, none better are,
than Leader-haughs and Yarrow.

In Burn- Miln Boge,&,white-slede shaws,
the Fearful Hare she haunteth;
Bridge-haugh & Broad -wood sheil she knaw'
to the Chapel-wood frequenteth:
Yet when she irks, to Kalaslie Birks
she runs and sighs for sorrow,
That she should leave sweet Leaderhaughs
and cannot win to Yarow.

What sweetet musick would you hear,
than Hounds and Beigles crying ?
The Hare waits not, but flees for fear,
their hard pursuits defying.
But yet her strength it fails at length,
no beilding can she borrow
At Haggs, Cleckmae, not Sorlesfield,
but longs to be at yarow.

For Rock wood, Rink- wood, Rival,Aimer,
still thinking for to view her.
But O to fail her strength begins,
no cunning can rescue her:
O're dubb and dyke, o're seugh and syke,
she l run the fields all thorow;
Yet ends her days in Leader-haughs,
and bids farwell to Yarow.

Thou Erslingtouu and Colding-Knowes,
where Humes had once commanding
And Dry Grange with thy milk white EWs
'cwixt Tweed and Leader standing:
The birds that flees through Red-path trees
and Gledswood Banke all thorow,
May chant and sing, sweet Leader-haughs,
and the bonny Banks of Yarrow.

But Burn cannot his grief asswage,
while as his days endureth,
To see the changes of his age,
which day and time procureth.
For many a place stands in hard case,
where Burns was blyth besorrow,
With Humes that dwelt on Leader side,
and Scots that dwelt in Yarow.

The Words of Burn the Violer.
WHat ? shall my Viol silent be,
or leave her wonted scriding ?
But choise some sadder Elegie,
no sports and mirds deriding:
It must be fain with lower strain,
than it was wont besorrow,
To sound the praise of Leader-haughs,
and the bonny Banks of Yarrow.

But Floods have overflown the Banks,
the greenish Haughs disgracing,
And Trees in Woods grows thin in ranks
about the fields defacing.
For Waters waxes, Woods doth waind,
more, if could for sorrow,
In rural Verse, I could rehearse,
of Leader-haughs and Yarow.

But sighs and sobs o'rsets my breath,
fore saltish tears forth sending.
All things Sublunar here on earth
are subject to an ending;
So must my Song, though somewhat long,
yet late at even and morrow,
I'le sigh and sing sweet Leader-haughs,
and the bony Banks of Yarow.
Hit terminus haeret.

FINIS.

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