Hail, beauteous stranger of the grove!
Thou messenger of spring!
Now Heaven repairs thy rural seat,
And woods thy welcome sing.
What time the daisy decks the green,
Thy certain voice we hear.
Hast thou a star to guide thy path,
Or...
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.
Forever now, O Yarrow stream!
Thou art to me a stream of sorrow;
For never on thy banks shall I...
