I DO CONFESS THOU ART SAE FAIR 1. I DO confess thou art sae fair,

I wad been o'er the lugs in luve; Had I not found the slightest prayer

That lips could speak thy heart could muve.

I do confess thee sweet, but find

Thou art sae thriftless o' thy sweets, Thy favours are the silly wind

That kisses ilka thing it meets.

See yonder rose-bud rich in dew,
Amang its native briers sae coy,
How soon it tines its scent and hue
When pu'd and worn a common toy!
Sic fate ere lang shall thee betide,
Tho' thou may gaily bloom a while;
Yet soon thou shalt be thrown aside,
Like ony common weed and vile.

YON WILD MOSSY MOUNTAINS. YON wild mossy mountains sae lofty and wide, That nurse in their bosom the youth o' the Clyde, Where the grouse lead their coveys thro' the heather to feed, [his reed: And the shepherd tents his flock as he pipes on Where the

grouse, &c.

This song is altered from a poem by Sir Robert Ayton, private secretary to Mary and Anne, queens of Scotland. The poem is to be found in James Watson's Collection of Scots Poems, the earliest collection printed in Scotland.-I think that I have improved the simplicity of the sentiments, by giving them a Scots dress.-Burns' Reliques, p. 292.

Not Gowrie's rich valley, nor Forth's sunny shores,

To me hae the charms o' yon wild, mossy moors;
For there, by a lanely, sequester'd clear stream,
Resides a sweet lassie,my thought and my dream.
Amang thae wild mountains shall still be my path,
Ilk stream foaming down its ain green narrow
strath;

For there wi' my lassie the day lang I rove,
While o'er us unheeded, fly the swift hours o' love.
She is not the fairest, altho' she is fair;
O' nice education but sma' is her share;
Her parentage humble as humble can be;
But I lo'e the dear lassie because she lo'es me.

To beauty what man but maun yield him a prize,
In her armour of glances, and blushes, and sighs?
And when wit and refinement hae polish'd her
darts,

They dazzle our een, as they fly to our hearts. But kindness, sweet kindness, in the fond sparkling ee,

Has lustre outshining the diamond to me; And the heart-beating love, as I'm clasp'd in her arms,

O, these are my lassie's all-conquering charms!

WHA IS THAT AT MY BOWER DOOR?

WHA is that at my bower door?

O, wha is it but Findlay;

Then gae your gate, ye'se nae be here!

Indeed maun I, quo' Findlay.

WHA IS THAT AT MY BOWER DOOR? 137 What mak ye sae like a thief?

(, come and see, quo' Findlay; Before the morn ye'll work mischief; Indeed will I, quo' Findlay.

Gif I rise and let you in;
Let me in, quo' Findlay;

In

ye

Ye'll keep me waukin wi' your din;
Indeed will I, quo' Findlay.
my bower if should stay;
Let me stay, quo' Findlay;
I fear ye'll bide till break o' day;
Indeed will I, quo' Findlay.

I'll remain, quo' Findlay;

I dread ye'll learn the gate again;
Indeed will I, quo' Findlay.
What may pass within this bower-
Let it pass, quo' Findlay;
Ye maun conceal till your last hour;
Indeed will I, quo' Findlay.

THO' CRUEL FATE.

THO' cruel fate should bid us part,

As far's the pole and line;

Her dear idea round my heart

Should tenderly entwine.

Tho' mountains frown and deserts howl,

And oceans roar between;

Yet, dearer than my deathless soul,

I still would love my Jean.

FARE THEE WEEL.

AE fond kiss, and then we sever!
Ae fareweel, alas, for ever!

Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.
Who shall say that fortune grieves him
While the star of hope she leaves him?
Me, nae cheerfu' twinkle lights me;
Dark despair around benights me.
I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy,
Naething could resist my Nancy;
But to see her was to lover her;
Love but her, and love for ever.
Had we never lov'd sae kindly,
Had we never lov'd sae blindly,
Never met-or never parted,
We had ne'er been broken-hearted.

Fare thee weel, thou first and fairest!
Fare thee weel, thou best and dearest!
Thine be ilka joy and treasure,
Peace, enjoyment, love, and pleasure.
Ae fond kiss, and then we sever;
Ae fareweel, alas, for ever!

Deep in heart-wrung tears I pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.

THE BONNIE BLINK O' MARY'S EE! Now bank an' brae are claith'd in green,

An' scatter'd cowslips sweetly spring,

By Girvan's fairy haunted stream

The birdies flit on wanton wing.

THE BONNIE LAD THAT'S FAR AWA. 139
To Cassillis' banks when e'ening fa's,
There wi' my Mary let me flee,
There catch her ilka glance o' love,
The bonnie blink o' Mary's ee!

The chield wha boasts o' warld's wealth,
Is aften laird o' meikle care;
But Mary she is a' my ain,

Ah, fortune canna gie me mair!
Then let me range by Cassillis' banks
Wi' her the lassie dear to me,
And catch her ilka glance o' love,
The bonnie blink o' Mary's ee!

THE BONNIE LAD THAT'S FAR AWA.
O, HOW can I be blithe and glad,

Or how can I gang brisk and braw,
When the bonnie lad that I lo'e best
Is o'er the hills and far awa?

It's no the frosty winter wind,
It's no the driving drift and snaw;
But aye the tear comes in my ee,
To think on him that's far awa.

My father pat me frae his door,
My friends they hae disown'd me a';
But I hae ane will tak my part,
The bonnie lad that's far awa.

A pair o' gloves he gae to me,

And silken snoods' he gae me twa;

And I will wear them for his sake,
The bonnie lad that's far awa.

1 Ribands for binding the hair.