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: . train. The few subjects upon which he occupied his pen are well chosen; and whatever fault the Scottish Presbyters could find with the eccentricity of his conduct, they could urge none against the moral of his writings-they are worthy of the purest divine that ever undertook the sacred office. His "Ode to the Cuckoo" is one of the sweetest poems in the language. Logan has been charged with having stolen this composition from the posthumous manuscripts of Bruce, the collecting and editing of which were committed to his care. His claim to it, however, is not only supported by internal evidence, but the charge was never advanced against him while he was alive to repel it. Among his other poems may be named the Odes to Spring, to Women, and to Men of Letters, and his pathetic ballad of "The Braes of Yarrow." His "Hymns" were failures, like all attempts to convert into rhyme the noble language of the Psalmist. To say that he has succeeded better than others have done, is saying very little. Those who are familiar with the 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:. train. The few subjects upon which he occupied his pen are well chosen; and whatever fault the Scottish Presbyters could find with the eccentricity of his conduct, they could urge none against the moral of his writings-they are worthy of the purest divine that ever undertook the sacred office. His "Ode to the Cuckoo" is one of the sweetest poems in the language. Logan has been charged with having stolen this composition from the posthumous manuscripts of Bruce, the collecting and editing of which were committed to his care. His claim to it, however, is not only supported by internal evidence, but the charge was never advanced against him while he was alive to repel it. Among his other poems may be named the Odes to Spring, to Women, and to Men of Letters, and his pathetic ballad of "The Braes of Yarrow." His "Hymns" were failures, like all attempts to convert into rhyme the noble language of the Psalmist. To say that he has succeeded better than others have done, is saying very little. Those who are familiar with the "THY braes were bonny, Yarrow stream! Thou art to me a stream of sorrow; 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: . |