YOUNG PEGGY BLOOMS

Her eyes outshine the radiant beams
That gild the passing shower,
And glitter o'er the crystal streams,
And cheer each fresh'ning flower.

Her lips, more than the cherries bright,
A richer dye has graced them;
They charm th' admiring gazer's sight,
And sweetly tempt to taste them;
Her smile is as the evening mild,
When feather'd pairs are courting,
And little lambkins wanton wild,
In playful bands disporting.

Were Fortune lovely Peggy's foe,
Such sweetness would relent her;
As blooming spring unbends the brow
Of surly savage Winter..
Detraction's eye no aim can gain,
Her winning pow'rs to lessen;
And fretful Envy grins in vain
The poison'd tooth to fasten.

Ye Pow'rs of Honour, Love, and Truth,
From ev'ry ill defend her!
Inspire the highly-favour'd youth
The destinies intend her:
Still fan the sweet connubial flame
Responsive in each bosom;
And bless the dear parental name
With many a filial blossom.

HER FLOWING LOCKS

Song-Farewell to Ballochmyle.1

THE Catrine woods were yellow seen,
The flowers decay'd on Catrine lee,
Nae lav'rock sang on hillock green,
But nature sicken'd on the e'e.
Thro' faded groves Maria sang,

Hersel' in beauty's bloom the while;
And aye the wild-wood echoes rang,
Fareweel the braes o' Ballochmyle!

Low in your wintry beds, ye flowers,
Again ye'll flourish fresh and fair;
Ye birdies dumb, in with'ring bowers,
Again ye'll charm the vocal air.
But here, alas! for me nae mair

Shall birdie charm, or floweret smile;
Fareweel the bonie banks of Ayr,

Fareweel, fareweel! sweet Ballochmyle!

Fragment-Her Flowing Locks.2

HER flowing locks, the raven's wing,
Adown her neck and bosom hing;
How sweet unto that breast to cling,
And round that neck entwine her!

Her lips are roses wat wi' dew,
O, what a feast her bonie mou'!
Her cheeks a mair celestial hue,
A crimson still diviner!

1 Maria is Miss Whitefoord, daughter of Whitefoord of Ballochmyle, who was ruined by the failure of the Ayr Bank, referred to in St Ronan's Well.

2 If Miss Whitefoord is the heroine, she may well have admired the audacity of the singer.

HALLOWEEN

Halloween.1

;

The following poem will, by many readers, be well enough understood but for the sake of those who are unacquainted with the manners and traditions of the country where the scene is cast, notes are added, to give some account of the principal charms and spells of that night, so big with prophecy to the peasantry in the west of Scotland. The passion of prying into futurity makes a striking part of the history of human nature in its rude state, in all ages and nations; and it may be some entertainment to a philosophic mind, if any such honour the author with a perusal, to see the remains of it among the more unenlightened in our own.

"Yes! let the rich deride, the proud disdain,
The simple pleasures of the lowly train;
To me more dear, congenial to my heart,
One native charm, than all the gloss of art."

GOLDSMITH.

UPON that night, when fairies light
On Cassilis Downans 2 dance,
Or owre the lays, in splendid blaze,
On sprightly coursers prance;
Or for Colean the rout is ta'en,
Beneath the moon's pale beams;
There, up the Cove,3 to stray an' rove,
Amang the rocks and streams
To sport that night:

Amang the bonie winding banks,
Where Doon rins, wimplin, clear;

4

Where Bruce ance rul'd the martial ranks,
An' shook his Carrick spear;

This masterpiece of humorous folklore is a gem of the Kilmarnock Edition (1786.) The old sports are still, as far as burning nuts goes, practiced in the nursery. These "remains of Gentilism" survived Kirk censures, but were, for the most part, destroyed by enlightenment.

a leas.

1 Is thought to be a night when witches, devils, and other mischiefmaking beings are abroad on their baneful midnight errands; particularly those aerial people, the fairies, are said on that night to hold a grand anniversary.-R.B.

2 Certain little, romantic, rocky, green hills, in the neighbourhood of the ancient seat of the Earls of Cassilis.-R.B.

3 A noted cavern near Colean house, called the Cove of Colean; which, as well as Cassilis Downans, is famed, in country story, for being a favourite haunt of fairies.-R. B.

4 The famous family of that name, the ancestors of ROBERT, the great deliverer of his country, were Earls of Carrick.-R.B.

a trim.

HALLOWEEN

Some merry, friendly, countra-folks
Together did convene,

To burn their nits, an' pou their stocks,
An' haud their Halloween

Fu' blythe that night.

a

The lasses feat, an' cleanly neat,
Mair brawb than when they're fine;
Their faces blythe, fu' sweetly kythe,
Hearts leal, an' warm, an' kin':
The lads sae trig, wi' wooer-babs d
Weel-knotted on their garten;
Some unco blate, an' some wi' gabs'
Gar lasses' hearts gang startin
Whiles fast at night.

Then, first an' foremost, thro' the kail,
Their stocks1 maun a' be sought ance;
They steek their een, and grape an' waleh
For muckle anes, an' straught anes.
Poor hav'rel' Will fell aff the drift,

f mouths.

An' wandered thro' the 'bow-kail,'

An' pou't for want o' better shift
A runt, was like a sow-tail

Sae bow't that night.

Then, straught or crooked, yird or nane,
They roar an' cry a' throw'ther1;

b handsome. ⚫ show.
g shut.
h choose.

1 The first ceremony of Halloween is, pulling each a "stock," or plant of kail. They must go out, hand in hand, with eyes shut, and pull the first they meet with: its being big or little, straight or crooked, is prophetic of the size and shape of the grand object of all their spells-the husband or wife. If any "yird," or earth, stick to the root, that is "tocher," or fortune; and the taste of the

HALLOWEEN

The vera wee-things, toddlin, rin,
Wi' stocks out owre their shouther:
An' gif the custock's sweet or sour,
Wi' joctelegs they taste them;
Syne coziely, aboon the door,

b

a

Wi' cannie care, they've plac'd them
To lie that night.

The lassies staw frae 'mang them a',
To pou their stalks o' corn;1
But Rab slips out, an' jinks about,
Behint the muckle thorn:

He grippit Nelly hard and fast:
Loud skirl'dd a' the lasses;
But her tap-pickle maist was lost,
Whan kiutline in the fause-house 2
Wi' him that night.

An'

The auld guid-wife's weel-hoordit nits
Are round an' round divided,
mony lads an' lasses' fates
Are there that night decided:
Some kindle couthie' side by side,
And burn thegither trimly;

Some start awa wi' saucy pride,
An' jump out owre the chimlie
Fu' high that night.

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