JOHNNIE OF BRAIDISLEE

Down the burnside hurry thee, gentle mavis, Find the bothie, and flutter about the doorway. Touch the lattice tenderly, bid my mother Fetch away Johnnie. Mother, uprouse thee! many bitter arrows Out of one bosom gather, and for ever Pray for one resting in a chilly forest Under an oak tree. Gentle mavis! hover about the window Where the sun shines on happy things of home life, Bid the clansmen troop to the gory dingle. Clansmen, avenge me! Mother! oh, my mother! upon a cradle Woven of willows, with a bow beside me, Near the kirk of Durrisdeer, under yew boughs, Rock thy beloved. 1885.