Yarrow."

Four has he hurt, and five has slain,
On the bloody braes of Yarrow,
Till that stubborn knight came him behind,
And ran his bodie thorough.

"Gae hame, gae hame, good-brother[A] John,
"And tell your sister Sarah,
"To come and lift her leafu' lord;
"He's sleepin sound on Yarrow."----

"Yestreen I dream'd a dolefu' dream;
"I fear there will be sorrow!
"I dream'd, I pu'd the heather green,
"Wi' my true love, on Yarrow.

"O gentle wind, that bloweth south,
"From where my love repaireth,
"Convey a kiss from his dear mouth,
"And tell me how he fareth!

"But in the glen strive armed men;
"They've wrought me dole and sorrow;
"They've slain--the comeliest knight they've slain--
"He bleeding lies on Yarrow."

As she sped down yon high high hill,
She gaed wi' dole and sorrow,
And in the den spyed ten slain men,
On the dowie banks of Yarrow.

She kissed his cheek, she kaim'd his hair,
She search'd his wounds all thorough;
She kiss'd them, till her lips grew red,
On the dowie houms of Yarrow.

"Now, haud your tongue, my daughter dear!
"For a' this breeds but sorrow;
"I'll wed ye to a better lord,
"Than him ye lost on Yarrow."

"O haud your tongue, my father dear!
"Ye mind me but of sorrow;
"A fairer rose did never bloom
"Than now lies cropp'd on Yarrow."

[Footnote A: _Good-brother_--Beau-frere, Brother-in-law.]

THE GAY GOSS HAWK.

NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED.

_This Ballad is published, partly from one, under this title, in Mrs_
BROWN'S _Collection, and partly from a MS. of some antiquity,_ penes
Edit.--_The stanzas appearing to possess mo st merit have been selected
from each copy._

"O waly, waly, my gay goss hawk,
"Gin your feathering be sheen!"
"And waly, waly, my master dear,
"Gin ye look pale and lean!

"O have ye tint, at tournament,
"Your sword, or yet your spear?
"Or mourn ye for the southern lass,
"Whom you may not win near?"

"I have not tint, at tournament,
"My sword, nor yet my spear;
"But sair I mourn for my true love,
"Wi' mony a bitter tear.

"But weel's me on ye, my gay goss hawk,
"Ye can baith speak and flee;
"Ye sall carry a letter to my love,
"Bring an answer back to me."

"But how sall I your true love find,
"Or how suld I her know?
"I bear a tongue ne'er wi' her spake,
"An eye that ne'er her saw."

"O weel sal