TAM GLEN. My heart is a-breaking, dear Tittie; To anger them a' is a pity; But what will I do wi' 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: The last Halloween I was waukin My droukit sark-sleeve, as ye ken; 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 balmy gales awake the flowers, The lav'rock shuns the palace gay, For nature smiles as sweet, I To shepherds as to kings. ween, Let minstrels sweep the skilfu' string The shepherd stops his simple reed, Blithe, in the birken shaw. The princely revel may survey The shepherd, in the flowery glen, But is his heart as true? These wild-wood flowers I've pu'd, to deck The courtiers' gems may witness love- 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, If thou shalt meet a lassie, In grace and beauty charming, Ere while thy breast sae warming, O that's the queen o' womankind, If thou hadst heard her talking, But her, by thee is slighted, O that's the lassie o' my heart, O that's the queen o' womankind, If thou hast met this fair one; If every other fair one, But her, thou hast deserted, O that's the queen o' womankind, |