Thus, after he had fondly braved The perilous Deep, the Boy was saved; And in the lonely Highland dell Of the blind Boy's adventurous feat, 1803. *It is recorded in Dampier's Voyages, that a boy, son of the captain of a Man-of-War, seated himself in a Turtle shell, and floated in it from the shore to his father's ship, which lay at anchor at the distance of half a mile. In deference to the opinion of a Friend, I have substituted such a shell for the less elegant vessel in which my blind Voyager did actually entrust himself to the dangerous current of Loch Leven, as was related to me by an eye-witness. YARROW UNVISITED. 1803. (See the various Poems the scene of which is laid upon the banks of the Yarrow; in particular the exquisite Ballad of Hamilton, beginning "Busk ye, busk ye, my bonny, bonny Bride, Busk ye, busk ye, my winsome Marrow!"—) FROM Stirling castle we had seen Had trod the banks of Clyde, and Tay, "Let Yarrow Folk, frae Selkirk town, On Yarrow's banks let herons feed, There's Galla Water, Leader Haughs, And Dryborough, where with chiming Tweed There's pleasant 'Tiviot-dale, a land Made blithe with plough and harrow: What's Yarrow but a river bare, As worthy of your wonder." -Strange words they seemed of slight and scorn; My True-love sighed for sorrow; And looked me in the face, to think I thus could speak of Yarrow! "Oh! green," said I, "are Yarrow's holms, And sweet is Yarrow flowing! Fair hangs the apple frae the rock,* But we will leave it growing. *See Hamilton's Ballad as above. O'er hilly path, and open Strath, Let beeves and home-bred kine partake Be Yarrow stream unseen, unknown! Ah! why should we undo it? The treasured dreams of times long past, If Care with freezing years should come, Should life be dull, and spirits low, That earth has something yet to show, YARROW VISITED, SEPTEMBER, 1814. AND is this-Yarrow ?-This the Stream So faithfully, a waking dream? O that some Minstrel's harp were near, And chase this silence from the air, Yet why?-a silvery current flows Been soothed, in all my wanderings. And, through her depths, Saint Mary's Lake Is visibly delighted; For not a feature of those hills Is in the mirror slighted. A blue sky bends o'er Yarrow vale, |