Beautiful Newport on the Braes o' the Silvery Tay
Bonnie Mary, the Maid o' the Tay,
Come! Let's go, and have a holiday
In Newport, on the braes o' the silvery Tay,
'Twill help to drive dull care away.
The scenery there is most enchanting to be seen,
Especially the fine mansions with their shrubbery green;
And the trees and ivy are beautiful to view
Growing in front of each stately home in the avenue.
There the little birds and beautiful butterflies
Are soaring heavenwards almost to the skies,
And the busy bees are to be seen on the wing,
As from flower to flower they hummingly sing,
As they gather honey all the day,
From flowery gardens of Newport on the braes o' the Tay.
And as we view the gardens our hearts will feel gay
After being pent up in the workshop all the day.
Then there's a beautiful spot near an old mill,
Suitable for an artist to paint of great skill,
And the trees are arched o'erhead, lovely to be seen,
Which screens ye from the sunshine's glittering sheen.
Therefore, holiday makers, I'd have ye resort
To Newport on the braes o' the Tay for sport,
And inhale the pure air with its sweet perfume,
Emanating from the flowery gardens of Newport and the yellow broom.
And when bright Sol sinks in the West
You'll return home at night quite refreshed,
And dream in your beds of your rambles during the day
Along the bonnie braes o' the silvery Tay.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall

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The Newport Railway
Success to the Newport Railway,
Along the braes of the Silvery Tay,
And to Dundee straghtway,
Across the Railway Bridge o' the Silvery Tay,
Which was opened on the 12th of May,
In the year of our Lord 1879,
Which will clear all expenses in a very short time
Because the thrifty housewives of Newport
To Dundee will often resort,
Which will be to them profit and sport,
By bringing cheap tea, bread, and jam,
And also some of Lipton's ham,
Which will make their hearts feel light and gay,
And cause them to bless the opening day
Of the Newport Railway.
The train is most beautiful to be seen,
With its long, white curling cloud of steam,
As the Train passes on her way
Along the bonnie braes o' the Silvery Tay.
And if the people of Dundee
Should feel inclined to have a spree,
I am sure 'twill fill their hearts with glee
By crossing o'er to Newport,
And there they can have excellent sport,
By viewing the scenery beautiful and gay,
During the livelong summer day,
And then they can return at night
With spirits light and gay,
By the Newport Railway,
By night or by day,
Across the Railway Gridge o' the Silvery Tay.
Success to the undertakers of the Newport Railway,
Hoping the Lord will their labours repay,
And prove a blessing to the people
For many a long day
Who live near by Newport
On the bonnie braes o' the Silvery Tay.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall

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Beautiful Balmerino
Beautiful Balmermo on the bonnie banks of Tay,
It's a very bonnie spot in the months of June or May;
The scenery there is charming and fascinating to see,
Especially the surroundings of the old Abbey,
Which is situated in the midst of trees on a rugged hill,
Which visitors can view at their own free will;
And the trees and shrubberies are lovely to view,
Especially the trees on each side of the avenue
Which leads up to the Abbey amongst the trees;
And in the summer time it's frequented with bees,
And also crows with their unmusical cry,
Which is a great annoyance to the villagers that live near by.
And there in the summer season the mavis sings,
And with her charming notes the woodland rings;
And the sweet-scented zephyrs is borne upon the gale,
Which is most refreshing and invigorating to inhale.
Then there's the stately Castle of Balmerino
Situated in the midst of trees, a magnificent show,
And bordering on the banks o' the silvery Tay,
Where visitors can spend a happy holiday.
As they view the castle and scenery around
It will help to cheer their spirits I'll be bound;
And if they wish to view Wormit Bay
They can walk along the braes o' the silvery Tay.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall

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A Descriptive Poem on the Silvery Tay
Beautiful silvery Tay,
With your landscapes, so lovely and gay,
Along each side of your waters, to Perth all the way;
No other river in the world has got scenery more fine,
Only I am told the beautiful Rhine,
Near to Wormit Bay, it seems very fine,
Where the Railway Bridge is towering above its waters sublime,
And the beautiful ship Mars,
With her Juvenile Tare,
Both lively and gay,
Does carelessly lie By night and by day,
In the beautiful Bay
Of the silvery Tay.
Beautiful, beautiful silvery Tay,
Thy scenery is enchanting on a fine summer day,
Near by Balnerino it is beautiful to behold,
When the trees are in full bloom and the cornfields seems like gold -
And nature's face seems gay,
And the lambkins they do play,
And the humming bee is on the wing,
It is enough to make one sing,
While they carelessly do stray,
Along the beautiful banks of the silvery Tay,
Beautiful silvery Tay,
Rolling smoothly on your way,
Near by Newport, as clear as the day,
Thy scenery around is charming I'll be bound...
And would make the heart of any one feel light and gay on a fine summer day,
To view the beautiful scenery along the banks of the silvery Tay.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall

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The River of Leith
As I stood upon the Dean Bridge and viewed the beautiful scenery,
I felt fascinated and my heart was full of glee,
And I exclaimed in an ecstasy of delight,
In all my travels I never saw such a sight.
The scenery is so enchanting to look upon
That all tourists will say, "Dull care, be gone."
'Tis certainly a most lovely spot,
And once seen it can never be forgot.
Then away! away! to the River of Leith,
That springs from the land of heather and heath,
And view the gorgeous scenery on a fine summer day.
I'm sure it will drive dull care away.
The water-fall near the Bridge is most beautiful to be seen,
As it falls and shines like crystal in the sunsheen;
And the sound can be heard all day long,
While the innocent trouts sing an aquatic song.
The glen is a cool spot in the summer time.
There the people can be shaded from the sunshine
Under the spreading branches of the big trees,
And there's seats there to rest on if they please.
Then near St. Bernard's Well there's a shady bower,
Where the lovers, if they like, can spend an hour;
And while they rest there at their ease
They can make love to each other if they please.
The water of St. Bernard's Well is very nice,
But to get a drink of it one penny is the price.
I think in justice the price is rather high,
To give a penny for a drink when one feels dry.
The braes of the River Leith is most charming to be seen,
With its beautiful trees and shrubberies green,
And as the tourist gazes on the river in the valley below,
His heart with joy feels all aglow.
There the little trouts do sport and play
During the live-long summer day,
While the bee and butterfly is on the wing,
And with the singing of birds the glen doth ring.
The walk underneath the Dean Bridge is lovely to see.
And as ye view the scenery it will fill your heart with glee.
It is good for the people's health to be walking there
As they gaze on the beauties of Nature and inhale pure air.
The Dean Bridge is a very magnificent sight,
Because from the basement it is a great height.
And it seems most attractive to the eye,
And arrests the attention of strangers as they pass by.
The braes of Belgrave Crescent is lovely to see,
With its beautiful walks and green shrubbery.
'Tis health for the people that lives near by there
To walk along the bonny walks and breathe the sweet air.
Therefore all lovers of the picturesque, bo advised by me
And the beautiful scenery of the River Leith go and see,
And I am sure you will get a very great treat,
Because the River of Leith scenery cannot be beat.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall

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Beautiful Rothesay
Beautiful Rothesay, your scenery is most grand,
You cannot be surpassed in fair Scotland.
Tis healthy for holiday makers, to go there,
For the benefit of their health, by inhaling the pure air
And to hear the innocent birds, on a fine Summer day,
Carolling their sweet songs, so lively and gay,
Therefore, holiday makers, be advised by me,
And visit beautiful Rothesay, by the side of the Sea.
Then sweet Jessie, let us go,
To Scotland's garden of Eden O!
And spend the lovely Summer day,
In the beautiful village of Rothesay.
There you can see the ships, passing to and fro,
Which will drive away dull care, and woe,
And, the heavens breath smells wooingly there,
Therefore, let's away dear Jessie, to inhale the balmy air.
The mansions, there, are most beautiful to be seen,
Likewise the trees, and shrubberies, green.
Therefore, we will feel happy and gay,
Walking hand in hand, together the live long day.
Along the beautiful walks with our hearts fu' cheerie,
My dear love! Until we grow weary.
Then, return home at night, with our spirits light and gay,
After viewing the beautiful scenery of Rothesay.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall

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Beautiful Monikie
Beautiful Monikie! with your trees and shrubberies green
And your beautiful walks, most charming to be seen:
'Tis a beautiful place for pleasure-seekers to resort,
Because there they can have innocent sport,
taking a leisure walk all round about,
And see the ang1ers fishing in the pand for trout.
Besides, there's lovely white swans swimming on the pond,
And Panmure Monument can be seen a little distance beyond;
And the scenery all round is enchanting I declare,
While sweet-scented fragrance fills the air.
Then away, pleasure-seekers of bonnie Dundee,
And have a day's outing around Monikie,
And inhale the pure air, on a fine summer day,
Which will help to drive dull care away;
As ye gaze on the beautiful scenery there,
Your spirits will feel o'erjoyed and free frozen care.
Then near to the pond there's a beautiful green sward,
Where excursionists can dance until fatigue does them retard;
And if they feel thirsty, the Monikie water's near by,
Where they can quench their thirst if very dry.
Then, after that, they can have a walk at their ease,
Amongst the green shrubbery and tall pine trees;
And in the centre of the pand they can see
Three beautiful little islets dressed in green livery.
Monikie is as bonnie a place as ye could wish to see,
And about eleven or twelve miles from bonnie Dundee;
It's the only place I know of to enjoy a holiday,
Because there's a hall of shelter there to keep the rain away.
Then there's a large park, a very suitable place,
For the old and the young, if they wish to try a race;
It's there they can enjoy themselves during the live-long summmer day,
Near to the little purling burn, meandering on its way,
And emptying itself into the pond of Monikie,
Which supplies the people with water belonging to Dundee.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall

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Mary, the Maid o' the Tay
Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Tay,
Whaur me and my Mary oft did stray;
But noo she is dead and gone far away,
Sae I maun mourn for lovely Mary, the Maid o' the Tay,
The first time I met her 'twas in the month of May,
And the sun was shining bricht on the Silvery Tay;
I asked her name and she modestly did say,
"Some fouks ca's me lovely Mary, the Maid o' the Tay."
Oh, charming Mary o' the Tay,
Queen o' my soul by nicht and day;
But noo thou'rt gane and left me here
To weep for you, sweet Mary dear.
Oh, bonnie Mary o' the Tay,
Joy o' my heart and Queen o' May;
With thee I aye felt happy and gay
While rambling with thee on the banks o' the Tay.
Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Tay,
With my Mary ye seemed ever gay;
But noo ye seem baith dark and drear,
For my puir heart ye canna cheer.
My Mary was handsome and fair to be seen,
She bad bonnie fair hair and twa blue een;
And she was, aye happy while we carelessly did stray
Alang the banks o' the Silvery Tay.
Oh, Mary dear, I mourn thy loss,
To me the world seems nought but dross;
Sae I maun mourn baith nicht and day
For my lovely Mary, the Maid o' the Tay.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall

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The Village of Tayport and Its Surroundings
All ye pleasure-seekers, where'er ye be,
I pray ye all be advised by me,
Go and visit Tayport on the banks o' the Tay,
And there ye can spend a pleasant holiday.
The village and its surroundings are magnificent to be seen,
And the shops on the High Street are tidy and clean,
And the goods, I'm sure, would please the Queen,
They cannot be surpassed in Edinburgh or Aberdeen.
And the villagers' gardens are lovely to be seen,
There sweet flowers grow and gooseberries green.
And the fragrant air will make you feel gay
While viewing the scenery there on the banks of the Tay.
Scotscraig is an ancient and a most charming spot,
And once seen by visitors will never be forgot.
'Twas there that Archbishop Sharp lived long ago,
And the flower-garden there is a very grand show.
The flower beds there are very beautiful to see,
They surpass the Baxter Park flower beds in Dundee,
And are all enclosed in a round ring,
And there the bee and the butterfly are often on the wing.
Scotscraig farm-house is magnificent to see
With its beautiful rich fields of wheat and barley,
And the farm-house steading is certainly very fine,
And the scenery is charming in the summer time.
The Serpentine Walk is a secluded spot in Scotscraig wood,
And to be walking there 'twould do one's heart good.
There the lovers can enjoy themselves in its shady bowers
By telling tales of love to wile away the tedious hours.
There innocent rabbits do sport and play
During the livelong summer day
Amongst the ivy and shrubberies green,
And screened all day from the sun's sheen.
Then, lovers of the picturesque, off and away
To the village of Tayport on the banks o' the Tay,
And ramble through Scotscraig wood,
It will, I'm sure, do your bodies good.
And, as ye walk along the Serpentine Walk,
With each other ye can have a social talk,
And ye will hear the birds singing away,
Which will make your hearts feel light and gay.
And while walking underneath the branches of the trees,
Ye will hear the humming of the bees.
Therefore, pleasure-seekers, make no delay,
But visit Scotscraig wood on a fine summer day.
There visitors can be shaded from the sun in the summer time,
While walking along the secluded Serpentine,
By the spreading branches of the big trees,
Or from the undergrowth ivy, if they please.
Do not forget to visit the old Tower,
Where Archbishop Sharp spent many an hour,
Viewing the beautiful scenery for miles away
Along the bonnie banks o' the silvery Tay.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall

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Broughty Ferry
Ancient Castle of Broughty Ferry
With walls as strong as Londonderry;
Near by the sea-shore,
Where oft is heard and has been heard the cannon's roar
In the present day and days of yore,
Loudly echoing from shore to shore.
From your impregnable ramparts high
Like the loud thunder in the sky
Enough to frighten a foreign foe away
That would dare to come up the river Tay,
To lay siege to Bonnie Dundee,
I'm sure your cannon-balls wouId make them flee--
Home again to their own land
Because your cannon shot they could not withstand,
They would soon be glad to get away
From the beautiful shores of the silvery Tay.
Ancient Castle, near by Tayside,
The soldiers ought to feel happy that in you reside,
Because from the top they can have a view of Fife,
Which ought to drown their sorrow and give them fresh life,
And make their spirits feel light and gay
As they view the beautiful scenery of the silvery Tay.
The village of Broughty Ferry is most beautiful to see,
With its stately mansions and productive fishery,
Which is a great boon to the villagers and the people of Dundee,
And ought to make them thankful, and unto God to pray
For creating plenty of fish for them in the beautiful Tay.
And the city of Dundee seems beautiful to the eye
With her mill stacks and Old Steeple so high,
Which can be seen on a clear summer day
From the top of Broughty Castle near the mouth of Tay.
Then there's beautiful Reres Hill,
Where the people can ramble at their will
Amongst its beautiful shrubberies and trees so green
Which in the summer season is most charming to be seen,
And ought to drive dull care away,
Because the people can see every clear day
From the top the ships sailing on the silvery Tay.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall

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Beautiful Crief
Ye lovers of the picturesque, if ye wish to drown your grief,
Take my advice, and visit the ancient town of Crieff;
The climate is bracing, and the walks lovely to see.
Besides, ye can ramble over the district, and view the beautiful scenery.
The town is admirably situated from the cold winter winds,
And the visitors, during their stay there, great comfort finds,
Because there is boating and fishing, and admission free,
Therefore they can enjoy themselves right merrily.
There is also golf courses, tennis greens, and good roads,
Which will make the travelling easier to tourists with great loads,
And which will make the bicyclists' hearts feel gay,
Because they have everything there to make an enjoyable holiday.
The principal river there is the Earn, rolling on its way,
And which flows from Loch Earn, and joins the silvery Tay
Above Newburgh, after a course of more than thirty miles;
And as the tourist views the scene with joy he smiles.
The princely domain of Drummond Castle is most beautiful to be seen,
Especially when the woody landscape is blown full green,
And from the entrance gate to the castle an avenue extends all the way,
And to view the branches of the frees interlacing makes the heart feel gay.
Drummond Castle's flowery gardens are really very grand;
They cannot be surpassed in Great Britain,
And in the summer-time the bee and the butterfly are there on the wing,
And with the carolling of birds the gardens doth ring.
And from Knock Hill on the north and west,
The view from its summit is considered the best;
Because the Grampians and the Ochils can be seen,
While the beautiful rich fertile valley lies between.
And there are many seats where the weary traveller can rest,
And there is also a fountain of water, the very best,
While visitors can drink of while resting there,
And gaze on the magnificent scenery and inhale the pure air.
Then there's Lady Mary's Walk near the Bridge of Turret,
Which I hope visitors will go and see and not forget,
Because near by grows a magnificent oak most lovely to see,
Which is known by the name of Eppie Callum's Tree.
And at each end of this walk the visitors can ascend Laggan Hill,
And as they view the woods and fields with joy their hearts
And they will find seats plenteous on this elevated bower,
On which they may rest and wile away the hour.
The Hydropathic is situated on an eminence most grand,
And is one of the largest buildings in fair Scotland;
And capable of accommodating five hundred visitors, who often call there,
To recuperate their health and breathe the fragrant air.
Then there's Abercairny, which is most beautiful to view,
And Her Majesty the Queen visited the grounds in 1842;
And the park and the trees has the aspect of a southern scene,
And the lovely appearance of it gladdened the heart of our Queen.
Then there's the village of Foulis, which tourists ought to see,
Because the scenery there is charming and pretty;
And there's a sycamore tree there that was planted 300 years ago,
And I'm sure the sight thereof will please both high and low.
Therefore, in conclusion, to all lovers of the beautiful I will say,
If ye really wish to spend an enjoyable holiday,
I would recommend Crieff for lovely scenery and pure air;
Besides, the climate gives health to many visitors during their stay there.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall

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The Birks Of Aberfeldy
Now simmer blinks on flow'ry braes,
And o'er the crystal streamlet plays,
Come, let us spend the lightsome days
In the birks of Aberfeldie!
Bonnie lassie, will ye go,
Will ye go, will ye go,
Bonnie lassie, will ye go
To the birks of Aberfeldie?
The little birdies blithely sing,
While o'er their heads the hazels hing;
Or lightly flit on wanton wing
In the birks of Aberfeldie!
Bonnie lassie, will ye go…
The braes ascend like lofty wa's,
The foaming stream, deep-roaring, fa's,
O'er-hung wi' fragrant spreading shaws,
The birks of Aberfeldie.
Bonnie lassie, will ye go…
The hoary cliffs are crown'd wi' flowers,
White o'er the linns the burnie pours,
And, rising, weets wi' misty showers
The birks of Aberfeldie.
Bonnie lassie, will ye go…
Let Fortune's gifts at random flee,
They ne'er shall draw a wish frae me,
Supremely blest wi' love and thee
In the birks of Aberfeldie.
Bonnie lassie, will ye go…
poem by Robert Burns

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Birks Of Aberfeldie, The
Now simmer blinks on flow'ry braes,
And o'er the crystal streamlet plays,
Come, let us spend the lightsome days
In the birks of Aberfeldie!
Bonnie lassie, will ye go,
Will ye go, will ye go,
Bonnie lassie, will ye go
To the birks of Aberfeldie?
The little birdies blithely sing,
While o'er their heads the hazels hing;
Or lightly flit on wanton wing
In the birks of Aberfeldie!
Bonnie lassie, will ye go...
The braes ascend like lofty wa's,
The foaming stream, deep-roaring, fa's,
O'er-hung wi' fragrant spreading shaws,
The birks of Aberfeldie.
Bonnie lassie, will ye go...
The hoary cliffs are crown'd wi' flowers,
White o'er the linns the burnie pours,
And, rising, weets wi' misty showers
The birks of Aberfeldie.
Bonnie lassie, will ye go...
Let Fortune's gifts at random flee,
They ne'er shall draw a wish frae me,
Supremely blest wi' love and thee
In the birks of Aberfeldie.
Bonnie lassie, will ye go...
poem by Robert Burns

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The Beautiful City of Perth
Beautiful Ancient City of Perth,
One of the grandest on the earth,
With your stately mansions and streets so clean,
And situated between two Inches green,
Which are most magnificent to be seen
The North Inch is beautiful to behold,
Where the daisies and butter-cups their petals unfold,
In the warm summer time of the year,
While the clear silvery Tay rolls by quite near,
And such a scene will your spirits cheer.
The South Inch is lovely, be it said,
And a splendid spot for military parade,
While along the highway there are some big trees,
Where the soldiers can rest or stand at ease,
Whichever way their commanders please.
The surrounding woodland scenery is very grand,
It cannot be surpassed in fair Scotland,
Especially the elegant Palace of Scone, in history renowned,
Where some of Scotland's kings were crowned.
And the Fair Maid of Perth's house is worthy to be seen,
Which is well worth visiting by Duke, Lord, or Queen;
The Fair Maid of Perth caused the battle on the North Inch
'Twixt the Clans Chattan and Kay, and neither of them did flinch,
Until they were cut up inch by inch.
The scenery is lovely in the month of June,
When trees and flowers are in full bloom,
Especially near by the Palace of Scone,
Where the blackbird is heard whistling all day
While near by rolls on the clear silvery Tay.
Of all the cities in Scotland, beautiful Perth for me,
For it is the most elegant city that ever I did see,
With its beautiful woodland scenery along the river Tay,
Which would make the tourist's heart feel gay,
While fishing for trout on a fine summer day.
There, the angler, if he likes to resort
For a few day's fishing, can have excellent sport,
And while he is fishing during the day,
He will feel delighted with the scenery along the river Tay.
And the fish he catches will drive dull care away,
And his toil will be rewarded for the fatigues of the day.
Beautiful city of Perth, magnificent to be seen,
With your grand statues and Inches green,
And your lovely maidens fair and gay,
Which, in conclusion, I will venture to say,
You cannot be surpassed at the present day.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall

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Farewell to Ravelrig
*
Sweet Ravelrig, I ne'er could part
From thee, but wi' a dowie heart.
When I think on the happy days
I spent in youth about your braes,
When innocence my steps did guide,
Where murmuring streams did sweetly glide
Beside the braes well stored wi' trees,
And sweetest flow'rs that fend the bees:
And there the tuneful tribe doth sing,
While lightly flitting on the wing;
And conscious peace was ever found
Within your mansion to abound.
Sweet be thy former owner's rest,
And peace to him that's now possess't
Of all thy beauties great and small,
Lang may he live to bruik them all!
*
poem by James Thomson

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The Braes of Yarrow
‘BUSK ye, busk ye, my bonnie, bonnie bride!
Busk ye, busk ye, my winsome marrow!
Busk ye, busk ye, my bonnie, bonnie bride!
And think nae mair on the braes of Yarrow!’
‘Where got ye that bonnie, bonnie bride?
Where got ye that winsome marrow?’
‘I got her where I durst not well be seen—
Pu’ing the birks on the braes of Yarrow.’
‘Weep not, weep not, my bonnie, bonnie bride!
Weep not, weep not, my winsome marrow!
Nor let thy heart lament to leave
Pu’ing the birks on the braes of Yarrow.’
‘Why does she weep, thy bonnie, bonnie bride?
Why does she weep, thy winsome marrow?
And why dare ye nae mair weel be seen
Pu’ing the birks on the braes of Yarrow?’
‘Lang maun she weep, lang maun she, maun she weep,
Lang maun she weep with dule and sorrow;
And lang maun I nae weel be seen
Pu’ing the birks on the braes of Yarrow.
‘For she has tint her lover, lover dear—
Her lover dear, the cause of sorrow;
And I have slain the comeliest swain
That ever pu’ed birks on the braes of Yarrow.
‘Why runs thy stream O Yarrow, Yarrow, reid?
Why on thy braes is heard the voice of sorrow?
And why yon melancholious weeds
Hung on the bonnie birks of Yarrow.
‘What’s yonder floats on the rueful, rueful flood?
What’s yonder floats? O dule and sorrow!
’Tis he, the comely swain I slew
Upon the duleful braes of Yarrow.
‘Wash, O wash his wounds, his wounds in tears,
His wounds in tears of dule and sorrow;
And wrap his limbs in mourning weeds,
And lay him on the braes of Yarrow.
‘Then build, then build, ye sisters, sisters sad,
Ye sisters sad, his tomb with sorrow:
And weep around, in woeful wise,
His hapless fate on the braes of Yarrow.
‘Curse ye, curse ye, his useless, useless shield,
My arm that wrought the deed of sorrow,
The fatal spear that pierced his breast—
His comely breast on the braes of Yarrow!
‘Did I not warn thee not to, not to love,
And warn from fight? But, to my sorrow,
Too rashly bold, a stronger arm
Thou met’st, and fell on the braes of Yarrow.’
‘Sweet smells the birk, green grows, green grows the grass,
Yellow on Yarrow’s braes the gowan;
Fair hangs the apple frae the rock,
Sweet the wave of Yarrow flowing!’
‘Flows Yarrow sweet? As sweet, as sweet flows Tweed;
As green its grass, its gowan as yellow;
As sweet smells on its braes the birk,
The apple from its rocks as mellow.
‘Fair was thy love, fair, fair indeed thy love;
In flowery bands thou didst him fetter:
Though he was fair, and well beloved again
Than me, he never loved thee better.
‘Busk ye then, busk, my bonnie, bonnie bride!
Busk, ye, busk ye, my winsome marrow!
Busk ye, and lo’e me on the banks of Tweed,
And think nae mair on the braes of Yarrow!’
‘How can I busk, a bonnie, bonnie bride?
How can I busk, a winsome marrow?
How lo’e him on the banks of Tweed
That slew my love on the braes of Yarrow!
‘O Yarrow fields, may never, never rain
Nor dew thy tender blossoms cover!
For there was basely slain my love—
My love as he had not been a lover.
‘The boy put on his robes, his robes of green,
His purple vest—’twas my ain sewing:
Ah, wretched me! I little, little knew
He was in these to meet his ruin!
‘The boy took out his milk-white, milk-white steed,
Unheedful of my dule and sorrow;
But ere the to-fall of the night
He lay a corpse on the braes of Yarrow.
‘Much I rejoiced, that woeful, woeful day;
I sang, my voice the woods returning;
But lang ere night the spear was flown
That slew my love and left me mourning.
‘What can my barbarous, barbarous father do,
But with his cruel rage pursue me?
My lover’s blood is on thy spear;
How canst thou, barbarous man, then woo me?
‘My happy sisters may be, may be proud—
With cruel and ungentle scoffin’
May bid me seek, on Yarrow’s braes,
My lover nailed in his coffin.
‘My brother Douglas may upbraid,
And strive with threat’ning words to move me:
My lover’s blood is on thy spear,
How canst thou ever bid me love thee?
‘Yes, yes, prepare the bed, the bed of love!
With bridal sheets my body cover!
Unbar, ye bridal maids, the door;
Let in the expected husband lover!
‘But who the expected husband, husband is?
His hands, methinks, are bathed in slaughter.
Ah me! what ghastly spectre’s yon,
Comes in his pale shroud bleeding after?
‘Pale as he is, here lay him, lay him down;
O lay his cold head on my pillow:
Take aff, take aff these bridal weeds,
And crown my careful head with willow.
‘Pale though thou art, yet best, yet best beloved!
Oh! could my warmth to life restore thee,
Ye’d lie all night between my breasts!
No youth lay ever there before thee.
‘Pale, pale indeed! O lovely, lovely youth!
Forgive, forgive so foul a slaughter;
And lie all night between my breasts!
No youth shall ever lie there after.’
Return, return, O mournful, mournful bride!
Return, and dry thy useless sorrow!
Thy lover heeds nought of thy sighs—
He lies a corpse on the braes of Yarrow.”
poem by William Hamilton

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Bonnie Kilmany
Bonnie Kilmany, in the County of Fife,
Is a healthy spot to reside in to lengthen one's life.
The scenery there in the summer time is truly grand,
Especially the beautiful hills and the woodland.
Chorus --
Then, bonnie Annie, will you go with me
And leave the crowded city of Dundee,
And breathe the pure, fragrant air
In the Howe of Kilmany, so lovely and fair?
And the little village in the Howe is lovely to see,
In the midst of green trees and shrubbery;
And the little rivulet, as it wimples along,
Can be heard singing aloud an aquatic song.
Chorus
And the old church there is built on a knoll,
And on the Sabbath mornings the church bell does toll,
Inviting the people to join in prayer,
While the echoes of the bell is heard in mid-air.
Chorus
Then there's a little schoolroom, surrounded by trees,
A favourite haunt for butterflies and busy bees,
And an old red-tiled smithy near by,
And the clink of the hammers can be heard sounding high.
Chorus
And thew's a wood sawmill by the roadway,
And the noise can be heard by night and day,
As the circular saw wheels round and round,
Making the village with its echoes resound.
Chorus
And in the harvest time on a fine summer morn
The Howe looks most beautiful when the corn is shorn;
And to hear the beautiful lark singing on high
Will make you exclaim, "Dull care, good-bye."
poem by William Topaz McGonagall

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Beautiful Comrie
Ye lovers of the picturesque, away, away!
To beautiful Comrie and have a holiday;
Aud bask in the sunahine and inhale the fragrant air
Emanating from the woodlands and shrubberies there.
The charming village of Comrie is most lovely to be seen,
Especially in the summer season when the trees are green;
And near by is Loch Earn and its waters sparkling clear,
And as the tourist gazes thereon his spirits it will cheer.
Then St. Fillans is a beautiful spot, I must confess,
It is really a picture of rural loveliness;
Because out of the quiet lake the river ripples merrily,
And all round are hills beautiful in shape and nothing uncomely.
The rocky knoll to the south is a most seductive place,
And in the hotel there visitors will find every solace;
And the flower-decked cottages are charming to see,
Also handsome villas suitable for visitors of high and low degree.
Then there's St. Fillan's Hill, a prehistoric fort,
And visitors while there to it should resort;
And to the tourist the best approach is from the west,
Because in climbing the hill his strength it will test.
And descending the hill as best one may,
The scene makes the tourist's heart feel gay;
And by the west side is reached a wooded deli,
And about two hundred yards from that there's St. Fillan's Well.
Oh, charming Comrie! I must conclude my lay,
And to write in praise of thee I virtually do say
That your lovely mountains and silver birches will drive dull care away:
Therefore lovers of the picturesque, away, away!
To beautiful Comrie end have a holidoy,
And I'm sure you will return with spirits, light and gay,
After viewing the Sylvan beauties and hoary beeches there,
Also pines, ferns, and beautiful oaks, I do declare.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall

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The Bonnie Sidlaw Hills
Bonnie Clara, will you go to the bonnie Sidlaw hills
And pu' the blooming heather, and drink from their rills?
There the cranberries among the heather grow,
Believe me, dear Clara, as black as the crow.
Chorus --
Then, bonnie Clara, will you go
And wander with me to and fro?
And with joy our hearts will o'erflow
When we go to the bonnie Sidlaws O.
And the rabbits and hares sport in mirthful glee
In the beautiful woods of Glen Ogilvy,
And innocent trout do sport and play
In the little rivulet of Glen Ogilvy all the day.
Chorus
And in the bonnie woods of Sidlaw the blackbird doth sing,
Making the woodlands with his notes to ring,
Which ought to make a dull heart feel gay,
And help to oheer us on our way.
Chorus
And there the innocent sheep are to be seen
Browsing on the purple heather and pastures green;
And the shepherd can be heard shouting to his dog
As he chases the sheep from out of the bog.
Chorus
And from the tops of the Sidlaws can be seen
The beautiful Howe of Strathmore with its trees and shrubberies green;
Likewise Lochee and its spinning mills
Can be seen on a clear day from the Sidlaw hills.
Chorus
Therefore, bonnie Clara, let's away
To Sidlaw hills without delay,
And pu' the cranberries and bonnie blooming heather
While we wander to and fro on the Sidlaws together.
Chorus
There the lovers can enjoy themselves free from care
By viewing the hilly scenery and inhaling the fresh air,
And return home at night with their hearts full of glee
After viewing the beauties of the Sidlaw hills and Glen Ogilvy.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall

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Beautiful Balmoral
Ye lovers of the picturesque, away and see
Beautiful Balmoral, near by the River Dee;
There ye will see the deer browsing on the heathery hills,
While adown their sides run clear sparkling rills.
Which the traveller can drink of when he feels dry,
And admire the dark River Dee near by,
Rolling smoothly and silently on its way,
Which is most lovely to see on a summer day.
There the trout do sport and play
During the live-long summer day;
Also plenty of salmon are there to be seen,
Glittering like silver in the sun's sheen.
And the mountains are rugged and wild to be seen,
But the woodlands are beautiful when Nature's face is green;
There numerous rabbits do gambol all day
Amongst the green scrubbery all lively and gay.
There's one charming spot most magnificent to be seen,
'Tis Balmoral Castle, the Highland Home of our Queen;
The surrounding scenery is enchanting to see,
While near by rolls past the lovely River Dee.
Therefore, ye lovers of the picturesque, away and see
Beautiful Balmoral Castle and its grand scenery,
And the sight will fill your hearts with glee,
As ye walk along the bonnie banks o' the River Dee.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall

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The Beautiful Sun
Beautiful Sun! with thy golden rays,
To God, the wise Creator, be all praise;
For thou nourisheth all the creation,
Wherever there is found to be animation.
Without thy heat we could not live,
Then praise to God we ought to give;
For thou makest the fruits and provisions to grow,
To nourish all creatures on earth below.
Thou makest the hearts of the old feel glad,
Likewise the young child and the lad,
And the face of Nature to look green and gay,
And the little children to sport and play.
Thou also givest light unto the Moon,
Which certainly is a very great boon
To all God's creatures here below,
Throughout the world where'er they go.
How beautiful thou look'st on a summer morn,
When thou sheddest thy effulgence among the yellow corn,
Also upon lake, and river, and the mountain tops,
Whilst thou leavest behind the most lovely dewdrops!
How beautiful thou seem'st in the firmament above,
As I gaze upon thee, my heart fills with love
To God, the great Creator, Who has placed thee there,
Who watches all His creatures with an eye of care!
Thou makest the birds to sing on the tree,
Also by meadow, mountain, and lea;
And the lark high poised up in air,
Carolling its little song with its heart free from care.
Thou makest the heart of the shepherd feel gay
As he watches the little lambkins at their innocent play;
While he tends them on the hillside all day,
Taking care that none of them shall go astray.
Thou cheerest the weary traveller while on his way
During the livelong summer day,
As he admires the beautiful scenery while passing along,
And singing to himself a stave of a song.
Thou cheerest the tourist while amongst the Highland hills,
As he views their beautiful sparkling rills
Glittering like diamonds by the golden rays,
While the hills seem to offer up to God their praise.
While the bee from flower to flower does roam
To gather honey, and carry it home;
While it hums its little song in the beautiful sunshine,
And seemingly to thank the Creator divine --
For the honey it hath gathered during the day,
In the merry month of May,
When the flowers are in full bloom,
Also the sweet honeysuckle and the broom.
How beautiful thy appearance while setting in the west,
Whilst encircled with red and azure, 'tis then thou look'st best!
Then let us all thank God for thy golden light
In our prayers every morning and night!
poem by William Topaz McGonagall

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