226 A Scottish Trout Stream. 



Are growing green, and all the lover's heart 

 Throbs with upbraiding full and wild unrest 

 That nature is so kind, and fate so hard.* 



And Principal Shairp in his beautiful ballad of the 

 " Bush aboon Traquair/' more than most, has thrown 

 a new light across the very spirit of the old Border 

 ballad : 



" What saw ye there, 



At the Bush aboon Traquair ? 

 And what heard ye there that was worth your heed ? 



I heard the cushies croon 



Thro' the gowden afternoon, 

 And the Quair burn singin' doon to the Vale o' the Tweed. 



And birks, saw I three or four, 



Wi' grey moss, bearded ower, 

 The last that are left o' the birkenshaw, 



Whar mony a simmer e'en, 



Fond lovers did convene 

 Thae bonny, bonny gloamin's that are far a\\ a ; . 



They were best beyond compare, 



When they held their trystin' there 

 Amang the greenest hills shone on by the sun ; 



And there they wan a rest, 



The lounest and the best, 

 I Traquair Kirkyard when a' was dune. 



Now the birks to dust may rot, 



Names o' lovers be forgot, 

 Nae lads and lasses there ony mair convene ; 



But the blithe lilt o' yon air 



Keeps the Bush aboon Traquair, 

 And the love that ance was there, aye fresh and green. 



* " The Tweed " and other poems. 



