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William Wordsworth - Yarrow Unvisited
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. From Stirling castle we had seen 
    The mazy Forth unravelled;
    Had trod the banks of Clyde, and Tay,
    And with the Tweed had travelled;
    And when we came to Clovenford,
    Then said my "winsome Marrow ,"
    "Whate`er betide, we`ll turn aside,
    And see the Braes of Yarrow."
    "Let Yarrow folk,  frae Selkirk town,
   Who have been buying, selling,
   Go back to Yarrow, `tis their own;
   Each maiden to her dwelling!
   On Yarrow`s banks let her herons feed,
   Hares couch, and rabbits burrow!
   But we will downward with the Tweed
   Nor turn aside to Yarrow.

   "There`s Galla Water, Leader Haughs,
   Both lying right before us;
   And Dryborough, where with chiming Tweed
   The lintwhites sing in chorus;
   There`s pleasant Tiviot-dale, a land
   Made blithe with plough and harrow:
   Why throw away a needful day
   To go in search of Yarrow?

   "What`s Yarrow but a river bare,
   That glides the dark hills under?
   There are a thousand such elsewhere
   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.
   O`er hilly path, and open Strath,
   We`ll wander Scotland thorough;
   But, though so near, we will not turn
   Into the dale of Yarrow.

   "Let beeves and home-bred kine partake
   The sweets of Burn-mill meadow,
   The swan on still St. Mary`s Lake
   Float double, swan and shadow!
   We will not see them; will not go,
   To-day, nor yet to-morrow;
   Enough if in our hearts we know
   There`s such a place as Yarrow.

   "Be Yarrow stream unseen, unknown!
   It must, or we shall rue it:
   We have a vision of our own;
   Ah! why should we undo it?
   The treasured dreams of times long past,
   We`ll keep them, winsome Marrow!
   For when we`er there, although `tis fair,
   `Twill be another Yarrow!

   "If Care with freezing years should come,
   And wandering seem but folly,—
   Should we be loth to stir from home,
    And yet be melancholy;
   Should life be dull, and spirits low,
   `Twill soothe us in our sorrow,
   That earth has something yet to show,
   The bonny holms of Yarrow!"
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