Sinopsis

THE BRAES OF Yarrow 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, 0 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; He promised me a wedding-ring,- The wedding-day was fix’d to-morrow;- Now he is wedded to his grave, Alas, his watery grave, in Yarrow!