A Delectable New BALLAD, ENTITLED, Leader-Haughs and Yarow.  
To its own Proper Tune.  

When PHOEBUS bright, the Azure Skies  
with golden rays enlighteneth,  
These things Sublunar he espies;  
Herbs Trees and Plants, be quick'neth;  
Among all those be makes his choice  
and gladly goes he thorough,  
With Radiant Beams, and Silver Streams,  
Through Leader Haughs and Yarow.   

When Aries, the day and night  
In equal length divideth,  
Old frosty Saturn takes the flight  
No longer he abideth:  
Then Flora Queen, with Mantle green,  
Casts off her former sorrow,  
And vows to dwell with Ceres sell  
In Leader Haughs and Yarow.   

Pan playing on his Oaten reed,  
with Shepherds him attending,  
Doth here resort their flocks to feed,  
The Hill, and Haughs commending;  
With bottle, bag, and staff with knag,  
and all singing good Morrow;  
They swear no Fields more pleasure yields,  
Then Leader Haughs and Yarow.   

One House there stands on Leader side  
Surmounting my destr●ing,  
With Ease rooms ray, and Windows fair,  
Like Daedalus contriving:  
Men passing by, do often say,  
In South it has no marrow;  
It stands as fair on Leader side,  
As New wark does on yarrow,   

A mile below, who list to ride,  
They'll hear the Mavis singing,  
Into St. leonard's bank she'll bide,  
Sweet Birks her head o'er hinging:  
The Lint white loud, and progne proud,  
With tender throats and narrow,  
Into St. leonard's banks do sing  
As sweetly as in Yarow.   

The Lapwing lilteth o'er the Lie,  
With nimble wings she sporteth,  
But vows she'll not come near the Tree  
Where philomel resorteth:  
By break of day, the Lark can say,  
l'e bid you all good morrow,  
I'll your and yell, for I may dwell  
In Leader Haughs and Yarow.   

Park, wanton walls, and wooden cleugh,  
The East and Vester Mainses,  
The Forest of Lawder's fair enough,  
The Corns are good in blansties;  
Where Oats are fine and sold by kind,  
That if ye search all thorough  
Mearns, buchan, Marr, none better are,  
Then Leader Haughs and Yarow.   

In burn Milne boge, and whitstead Shawes,  
The fearful Hare she haunteth,  
Bridge haugh and broad wood shiel she knows  
To the chapel wood frequenteth:  
Yet when she irks, to Kaidstie Birks,  
She runs and sighs for sorrow,  
That she should leave sweet Leader Haughs.  
And cannot win to yarrow.   

What sweeter Music would y● hear,  
Than Hourids and Beigles crying  
The 〈…〉 for fear  
 
〈…〉 length  
〈…〉 can she borrow  
〈…〉 Soreles-field  
〈…〉 to be at Yarow   

〈…〉 Rival, Aimer  
〈…〉 for to view her,  
〈…〉 begins,  
 
〈…〉 and dike o'er seugh and sick  
〈…〉 the fields all thorough,  
Yet ends her days in Leader Haughs,  
And bids farewell to yarrow,   

Thou E●ington and Calden knows,  
Where Humes had once commanding,  
And Dry Grange with thy milk white Ewes,  
'Twixt Tweed and Leader standing:  
The Birds that flees through Rid path trees  
And Gladswood banks all thorough,  
May Chant and Sing, sweet Leader Haughs,  
And the bony Banks of Yarow.   

But BVRN cannot his grief assuage,  
While as his days endureth,  
To see the Changes of this Age,  
Which day and time procureth;  
For many a place stands in hard case.  
Where Burns were blithe beforrow,  
With Humes that dwelled on Leader side,  
And Scots that dwelled in Yarow.   

The words of BURN the Violer.  

What? shall my Viol silent be,  
or leave her wont Scriding?  
But choice some sadder Elegy,  
Not Sports and Mirds deriding.  
It must be fame with lower strain,  
Than it was wont beforrow,  
To sound the praise of Leader Haughs,  
And the bony Banks of Yarow.   

But floods has overflown the Banks,  
The greenish Haughs disgracing,  
And Trees in Voods grow thin in ranks,  
About the fields defacing:  
For Water's waxes, Woods do waind;  
More, if I could for sorrow,  
In rural verse I could rehearse,  
Of Leader Haughs and Yarow.   

But sighs and sobs o'rsets my breath,  
Sore saltish tears forth sending,  
All things Sublunar here on Earth  
Are subject to an ending:  
So must my Song, though some what long,  
Yet late at even and Morrow,  
I'll sigh and sing, sweet Leader Haughs,  
And the bony Banks of YAROW.    
Hic terminus 〈◊〉  
FINIS.