WHEN SUMMER COMES.

When summer comes, the swains on Tweed

Sing their successful loves; Around the ewes and lambkins feed, And music fills the groves.

But my loved song is then the broom
So fair on Cowden-knowes;
For sure, so sweet, so soft a bloom
Elsewhere there never grows.

There Colin tuned his oaten reed,
And won my yielding heart;
No shepherd e'er that dwelt on Tweed
Could play with half such art.

He sung of Tay, of Forth and Clyde,
The hills and dales all round,
Of Leader haughs, and Leader side-
Oh! how I bless'd the sound.

Yet more delightful is the broom
So fair on Cowden-knowes;
For sure, so fresh, so bright a bloom

Elsewhere there never grows.

Not Tiviot braes, so green

and gay,

May with this broom compare;
Not Yarrow banks in flow'ry May,
Nor the bush aboon Traquair...

More pleasing far are Cowden-knowes,
My peaceful happy home,
Where I was wont to milk my ewes,
At e'en, amang the broom.

Ye powers that haunt the woods and plains
Where Tweed or Tiviot flows,
Convey me to the best of swains,

And my loved Cowden-knowes.

William Crawford wrote this song to the favourite air of Cowden-knowes, and though not one of his sweetest productions, he has graced his verse by introducing, in a very natural and pleasing way, the names of various places famous in story and song. The far-famed Cowdenknowes (if I may seek an earthly habitation for a place which seems to have an aërial locality, and to move at the will of the poet like the island of Laputa) are said to be near Melrose, on the river Leader. The old song, which celebrates Leader haughs and Yarrow as the residence of the Homes and Scotts, dwells on the loveliness of the place. I can prophesy that, for many a century, pilgrimages will be made to that neighbourhood; and that all the celebrity which ancient song has conferred will

fade away before the splendour which mightier works shed around the place. Our descendants will make relics of the woods of Abbotsford; and opulent antiquaries will carry away the mansion, roof, and rafter, like the miraculous church of Loretto.

THE BIRKS OF INVERMAY.

The smiling morn, the breathing spring,
Invite the tuneful birds to sing,

And while they warble from each

Love melts the universal lay.

Let us, Amanda, timely wise,

spray,

Like them improve the hour that flies,
And in soft raptures waste the day
Amang the birks of Invermay.

For soon the winter of the year,
And age, life's winter, will appear;
At this, thy living bloom will fade,
As that will nip the vernal shade.
Our taste of pleasure then is o'er,
The feather'd songsters are no more;
And when they droop, and we decay,
Adieu the birks of Invermay.

The laverock now and lintwhite sing,
The rocks around with echoes ring;

The mavis and the blackbird gay
In tuneful strains now glad the day;
The woods now wear their summer-suits;
To mirth all nature now invites:

Let us be blythsome then and gay
Among the birks of Invermay.

Behold, the hills and vales around
With lowing herds and flocks abound;
The wanton kids and frisking lambs
Gambol and dance about their dams;
The busy bees with humming noise,
And all the reptile kind rejoice:
Let us, like them, then sing and play
About the birks of Invermay.

Hark, how the waters as they fall
Loudly my love to gladness call;

The wanton waves sport in the beams,
And fishes play throughout the streams;
The circling sun does now advance,
And all the planets round him dance:
Let us as jovial be as they

Among the birks of Invermay.

Much controversy has arisen about the locality of this song, but no doubt has ever been expressed regarding its beauty. Mallet, who wrote the two first verses, laid the scene in Endermay, and surely the poet knew his own meaning as well as his commentators. Allan Ramsay,

however, changed it to Invermay, and the world has followed the alteration. Dr. Bryce of Kirknewton was not satisfied with the shortness of Mallet's song, and added three verses more: it must be confessed they are much in the spirit of the original. This innovation too has been approved, and Mallet goes with the double burthen to posterity, of Ramsay's amendment and Bryce's addition. The river May falls into the Erne near Duplin Castle, and on its banks, amid natural woods, stands the house of Invermay.

THE LASS OF LIVINGSTON.

Pain'd with her slighting Jamie's love,
Bell dropt a tear-Bell dropt a tear;
The gods descended from above,

Well pleas'd to hear-well pleas'd to hear.
They heard the praises of the youth

From her own tongue-from her own tongue,

Who now converted was to truth,

And thus she sung-and thus she sung.

Bless'd days when our ingenuous sex,

More frank and kind-more frank and kind,
Did not their lov'd adorers vex;

But spoke their mind-but spoke their mind.