Barbed with frontlet of steel, I trow, Why do these steeds stand ready dight? From Warkworth, or Naworth, or merry Carlisle. Sir Walter Scott. Bruar Water. THE HUMBLE PETITION OF BRUAR WATER TO THE NOBLE DUKE OF ATHOLE. MY lord, I know your noble ear Woe ne'er assails in vain ; Dry-withering, waste my foamy streams, The lightly jumpin' glowrin' trouts, Last day I grat wi' spite and teen, He, kneeling, wad adored me. Here, foaming down the shelvy rocks, There, high my boiling torrent smokes, Enjoying large each spring and well, I am, although I say 't mysel', Would then my noble master please To grant my highest wishes, He'll shade my banks wi' towering trees, And bonny spreading bushes. Delighted doubly then, my lord, The sober laverock, warbling wild, The gowdspink, Music's gayest child, The blackbird strong, the lintwhite clear, This, too, a covert shall insure To shield them from the storm; Here shall the shepherd make his seat, And here, by sweet endearing stealth, Despising worlds with all their wealth As empty idle care. The flowers shall vie in all their charms And birks extend their fragrant arms Here haply too, at vernal dawn, Or by the reaper's nightly beam, Mild-checkering through the trees, Rave to my darkly dashing stream, Hoarse swelling on the breeze. Let lofty firs, and ashes cool, Let fragrant birks in woodbines drest And, for the little songster's nest, So may old Scotia's darling hope, Spring, like their fathers, up to prop Their honored native land! So may, through Albion's farthest ken, The grace be, "Athole's honest men, Robert Burns. AR Bushby Braes. THE BRAES OF BUSHBY. E glentin' cheerfu' simmer morn, As I cam o'er the riggs o' Lorn, I heard a lassie all forlorn Lamentin' for her Johnny, O. Her wild notes poured the air alang; The Highland rocks an' woodlands rang; An' ay the o'erword o' her sang Was Bushby braes are bonny, O. On Bushby braes where blossoms blow, Where blooms the brier an' sulky sloe, There first I met my only Joe, My dear, my faithfu' Johnny, O; Departed joys, how soft, how dear! When Bushby braes were bonny, O. |