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TAM GLEN.

My heart is a-breaking, dear Tittie;
Some counsel unto me come len';

To anger them a' is a pity;

But what will I do wi' Tam Glen?
I'm thinking, wi' sic a braw fallow,
In poortith I might make a fen';
What care I in riches to wallow,
If I mauna marry Tam Glen?

There's Lowrie the laird o' Drumeller, Gude-day to you, brute! he comes ben: He brags and he blaws o' his siller,

But when will he dance like Tam Glen? My minnie does constantly deave me,

And bids me beware o' young men ; They flatter, she says, to deceive me ; But wha can think sae o' Tam Glen?

My daddie says, gin I'll forsake him,

He'll gie me gude hunder marks ten:
But, if it's ordain'd I maun take him,
O wha will I get but Tam Glen?
Yestreen at the Valentines' dealing,
My heart to my mou gied a sten;
For thrice I drew ane without failing,
And thrice it was written, Tam Glen.

The last Halloween I was waukin

My droukit sark-sleeve, as ye ken;
His likeness came up the house staukin—
The very grey breeks o' Tam Glen!
Come counsel, dear Tittie, don't tarry;
I'll gie you my bonnie black hen,
Gif will advise me to marry
ye

The lad I lo❜e dearly, Tam Glen.

How much the old song of "Tam Glen" lent to the conception of the new it is now in vain to inquire; for the ancient strain has fairly passed away, and the name only remains behind. Burns submitted his song to his brother Gilbert as the work of the eldern Muse, and heard its naïveté warmly praised before he acknowledged it for his own offspring. It seems ordained indeed that the lady should become Mrs. Glen-fate and affection formed an alliance far too strong for the blandishments of Lowrie the laird, or the counsel of aunts, or the admonition of mothers. The first four lines of the concluding verse are emblazoned with the superstition and the simplicity of old Scotland.

CHLORIS.

My Chloris, mark how green the groves,
The primrose banks how fair:

The balmy gales awake the flowers,
And wave thy flaxen hair.

The lav'rock shuns the palace gay,
And o'er the cottage sings:

For nature smiles as sweet, I

To shepherds as to kings.

ween,

Let minstrels sweep the skilfu' string
In lordly lighted ha':

The shepherd stops his simple reed,

Blithe, in the birken shaw.

The princely revel may survey
Our rustic dance wi' scorn;
But are their hearts as light as ours
Beneath the milk-white thorn?

The shepherd, in the flowery glen,
In shepherd's phrase will woo:
The courtier tells a finer tale,

But is his heart as true?

These wild-wood flowers I've pu'd, to deck
That spotless breast o' thine!

The courtiers' gems may witness love-
But 'tisna love like mine.

VOL. IV.

M

The beauty of Chloris has added many charms to Scottish song; but that which has increased the reputation of the poet has lessened the fame of the man. Chloris was one of those ladies who believed in the dispensing power of beauty, and thought that love should be under no demure restraint, and own no law but that of nature. Burns sometimes thought in the same way himself; and it is not wonderful therefore that the poet should celebrate the charms of a liberal lady who was willing to reward his strains, and who gave him many nocturnal opportunities of catching inspiration from her presence.

O WHA IS SHE THAT LO'ES ME.

O wha is she that lo'es me,
And has my heart a-keeping?
O sweet is she that lo'es me,
As dews o' simmer weeping,
In tears the rose-buds steeping.
O that's the lassie o' my heart,
No lassie ever dearer ;
O that's the queen o' womankind,
And ne'er a ane to peer her.

If thou shalt meet a lassie,

In grace and beauty charming,
That e'en thy chosen lassie,

Ere while thy breast sae warming,
Had ne'er sic powers alarming;
O that's the lassie o' my heart,
No lassie ever dearer ;

O that's the queen o' womankind,
And ne'er a ane to peer her.

If thou hadst heard her talking,
And thy attentions plighted,
That ilka body talking,

But her, by thee is slighted,
And thou art all delighted:

O that's the lassie o' my heart,
No lassie ever dearer;

O that's the queen o' womankind,
And ne'er a ane to peer her.

If thou hast met this fair one;
When frae her thou hast parted,

If every other fair one,

But her, thou hast deserted,
And thou art broken-hearted ;-
O that's the lassie o' my heart,
No lassie ever dearer ;

O that's the queen o' womankind,
And ne'er a ane to peer her.

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