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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
Scotland: Vols. VI–VIII. 1876–79.

Logan Water (Glencorse Burn)

Logan Braes

By John Mayne (1759–1836)

“BY Logan streams that rin sae deep,

Fu’ aft wi’ glee I ’ve herded sheep;

Herded sheep and gathered slaes,

Wi’ my dear lad on Logan braes.

But wae ’s my heart, thae days are gane,

And I wi’ grief may herd alane,

While my dear lad maun face his faes,

Far, far frae me and Logan braes.

“Nae mair at Logan kirk will he

Atween the preachings meet wi’ me;

Meet wi’ me, or when it ’s mirk,

Convoy me hame frae Logan kirk.

I weel may sing thae days are gane:

Frae kirk and fair I come alane,

While my dear lad maun face his faes,

Far, far frae me and Logan braes.

“At e’en, when hope amaist is gane,

I dauner out and sit alane;

Sit alane beneath the tree

Where aft he kept his tryst wi’ me.

O, could I see thae days again,

My lover skaithless, and my ain!

Beloved by friends, revered by faes,

We ’d live in bliss on Logan braes!”

While for her love she thus did sigh,

She saw a sodger passing by,

Passing by wi’ scarlet claes,

While sair she grat on Logan braes:

Says he, “What gars thee greet sae sair,

What fills thy heart sae fu’ o’ care?

Thae sporting lambs hae blythsome days,

And playfu’ skip on Logan braes.”

“What can I do but weep and mourn?

I fear my lad will ne’er return,

Ne’er return to ease my waes,

Will ne’er come hame to Logan braes.”

Wi’ that he clasped her in his arms,

And said, “I ’m free frae war’s alarms,

I now ha’e conquered a’ my faes,

We ’ll happy live on Logan braes.”

Then straight to Logan kirk they went,

And joined their hands wi’ one consent,

Wi’ one consent to end their days,

And live in bliss on Logan braes.

And now she sings, “Thae days are gane,

When I wi’ grief did herd alane,

While my dear lad did fight his faes,

Far, far frae me and Logan braes.”