For Adoration, in the dome
Of CHRIST, the sparrows find a home;

And on his olives perch:
The swallow also dwells with thee
O Man of GOD'S humility,

Within his Saviour's Church.
Sweet is the dew that falls betimes,
And drops upon the leafy limes;

Sweet, Hermon's fragrant air:
Sweet is the lily's silver bell,
And sweet the wakeful tapers' smell

That watch for early prayer.

Sweet the young nurse, with love intense,
Which smiles o'er sleeping innocence;

Sweet when the lost arrive:
Sweet the musician's ardour beats,
While his vague mind's in quest of sweets

The choicest flowers to hive.

Sweeter, in all the strains of love,
The language of thy turtle-dove,

Paired to thy swelling chord;
Sweeter, with every grace endued,
The glory of thy gratitude.

Respired unto the Lord.

Strong is the horse upon his speed;
Strong in pursuit the rapid glede,

Which makes at once his game:
Strong the tall ostrich on the ground;
Strong through the turbulent profound

Shoots Xiphias to his aim.

Strong is the lion-like a coal
His eyeball-like a bastion's mole

His chest against the foes:
Strong the gier-eagle on his sail,
Strong against tide the enormous whale
Emerges as he goes.

(A) HC-Vol. 41

But stronger still in earth and air,
And in the sea, the man of prayer,

And far beneath the tide:
And in the seat to faith assigned,
Where ask is have, where seek is find,

Where knock is open wide. Beauteous the fleet before the gale; Beauteous the multitudes in mail,

Ranked arms, and crested heads; Beauteous the garden's umbrage mild Walk, water, meditated wild,

And all the bloomy beds.

Beauteous the moon full on the lawn;
And beauteous when the veil's withdrawn,

The virgin to her spouse:
Beauteous the temple, decked and filled,
When to the heaven of heavens they build

Their heart-directed vows.

Beauteous, yea beauteous more than these, The Shepherd King upon his knees,

For his momentous trust; With wish of infinite conceit, For man, beast, mute, the small and great,

And prostrate dust to dust. Precious the bounteous widow's mite; And precious, for extreme delight,

The largess from the churl:
Precious the ruby's blushing blaze,
And alba's blest imperial rays,

And pure cerulean pearl.
Precious the penitential tear;
And precious is the sigh sincere;

Acceptable to God:
And precious are the winning flowers,
In gladsome Israel's feast of bowers,

Bound on the hallowed sod.

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More precious that diviner part
Of David, even the Lord's own heart

Great, beautiful, and new;
In all things where it was intent,
In all extremes, in each event,

Proof-answering true to true.

Glorious the sun in mid career;
Glorious the assembled fires appear;

Glorious the comet's train:
Glorious the trumpet and alarm;
Glorious the Almighty's stretched-out arm;

Glorious the enraptured main:

Glorious the northern lights a-stream;
Glorious the song, when God's the theme;

Glorious the thunder's roar:
Glorious Hosannah from the den;
Glorious the catholic Amen;

Glorious the martyr's gore:

Glorious,-more glorious,-is the crown
Of Him that brought salvation down,

By meekness called Thy Son;
Thou that stupendous truth believed;-
And now the matchless deed's achieved,

Determined, Dared, and Done.

ANONYMOUS

302

WILLY DROWNED IN YARROW

Down in yon garden sweet and gay

Where bonnie grows the lily,
I heard a fair maid sighing say,

“My wish be wi' sweet Willie !

Willie's rare, and Willie's fair,
And Willie's wondrous bonny;

And Willie hecht' to marry me

Gin e'er he married ony.

"O gentle wind, that bloweth south,

From where my Love repaireth,
Convey a kiss frae his dear mouth

And tell me how he fareth!

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.

6

“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?' 1 Promised.

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!

303

JOHN LOGAN

(1748-1788)

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
To squire me to his father's towers;
He promised me a wedding-ring,
The wedding-day was fix'd 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 I as freely told him;
Clasp'd in his arms, I little thought
That I should never more behold him!
Scarce was he gone, I saw his ghost;
It vanish'd with a shriek of sorrow;
Thrice did the water-wraith ascend,
And gave a doleful groan thro' Yarrow.

His mother from the window look'd
With all the longing of a mother;