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THE MILLER.

O merry may the maid be

Who marries wi' the miller, For foul day or fair day

He's ay bringing till her ; Has ay a penny in his pouch,

Has something het for supper, Wi' beef and pease, and melting cheese,

An' lumps o' yellow butter.

Behind the door stand bags o' meal,

And in the ark is plenty ; And good hard cakes his mither bakes,

And mony a sweeter dainty.
A good fat sow, a sleeky cow,

Are standing in the byre ;
Whilst winking puss, wi' mealy mou,

Is playing round the fire.

Good signs are these, my

mither

says, And bids me take the miller; A miller's wife's a merry wife,

And he's ay bringing till her.
For meal or maut she'll never want

Till wood and water's scanty ;
As lang as cocks and cackling hens,

She'll ay hae eggs in plenty.

In winter time, when wind and sleet

Shake ha-house, barn, and byre,
He sits aside a clean hearth stane,

Before a rousing fire;
O'er foaming ale he tells his tale ;

And ay to show he's happy,
He claps his weans, and dawtes his wife

Wi' kisses warm and sappy

The Miller was written by Sir John Clerk of Pennycuick, and first made its appearance in Yair's Charmer, in the year 1751. The commencing lines form part of a more ancient song, into the peculiar tact of which the poet has entered with much truth and felicity. The present copy varies from other versions; it has spared a verse from the narrative which the story seemed not to want, and where it departs from the earlier copies it departs for the sake of nature and truth. On the whole, it presents a very pleasing picture of rustic enjoyment.

NO DOMINIES FOR ME, LADDIE.

I chanced to meet an airy blade,

A new-made pulpiteer, laddie,
Wi' cock'd up hat and powder'd wig,

Black coat, and cuffs fu' clear, laddie. A lang cravat at him did

wag, And buckles at his knee, laddie; Says he, my heart, by Cupid's dart,

Is captivate to thee, lassie.

I'll rather chuse to thole grim death ;

So cease and let me be, laddie : For what? says he; Good troth, said I,

No dominies for me, laddie. Ministers' stipends are uncertain rents

For lady's conjunct-fee, laddie; When books and gowns are a' cried down,

No dominies for me, laddie.

But for your sake I'll fleece the flock,

Grow rich as I grow auld, lassie; If I be spared I'll be a laird,

And thou's be madam callid, lassie. But what if ye should chance to die,

Leave bairnies, ane or twa, laddie? Naething wad be reserved for them But hair-mould books to gnaw,

laddie.

At this he angry was, I wat,

He gloom'd and look'd fu'hie, laddie:
When I perceived this, in haste

I left my dominie, laddie.
Fare ye well, my charming maid;

This lesson learn of me, lássie,
At the next offer hold him fast,

That first makes love to thee, lassie.

Then I returning hame again,

And coming down the town, laddie,
By my good luck I chanced to meet

A gentleman dragoon, laddie ;
And he took me by baith the hands,

'Twas help in time of need, laddie:
Fools on ceremonies stand,

At twa words we agreed, laddie.

He led me to his quarter-house,

Where we exchanged a word, laddie:
We had nae use for black gowns there,

We married o'er the sword, laddie.
Martial music's far more fine

Than ony sermon bell, laddie;
Gold, red and blue, is more divine

Than black, the hue of hell, laddie.

Kings, queens, and princes, crave the aid

Of my brave stout dragoon, laddie;

VOL. III.

U

While dominies are much employ'd
'Bout whores and sackcloth gowns,

laddie.
Away wi' a' these whining loons !

They look like, Let me be, laddie:
I've more delight in roaring guns

No dominies for me, laddie.

This song was written by the Reverend Nathaniel Mackay of Crossmichael, in Galloway; and it is alleged that he was himself the slighted dominie whom he has so felicitously ridiculed; for he had paid his addresses, in early life, to a fair but scornful lady, who considered herself far above the rank and pretensions of a “newmade pulpiteer,” and finally yielded to the assiduities of an admirer who sported a gaudier livery, and pursued a more attractive and romantic vocation.

THE BONNIE BRUCKET LASSIE.

The bonnie brucket lassie,

She's blue beneath the een;
She was the fairest lassie

That danced on the green.
A lad he loo'd her dearly,

She did his love return;
But he his vows has broken,

And left her for to mourn.

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