It chanc'd the stack he faddom't thrice*
Was timmer propt for thrawin:
He taks a swirlie, auld moss oak,
For some black, grousome carlin,
And loot a winze, and drew a stroke,
Till skin in blybes cam haurlin

Aff's nieves that night.

A wanton widow Leezie was,
As canty as a kitlen;

But, och! that night, amang the shaws,
She gat a fearfu' settlin!

She through the whins, and by the cairn,
And owre the hill gaed scrievin,

Whare three lairds lands met at a burnt,
To dip her left sark sleeve in,

Was bent that night.

* Take an opportunity of going, unnoticed, to a bear-stack, and fathom it three times round. The last fathom of the last time, you will catch in your arms the appearance of your future conjugal yoke-fellow.

† Go out, one or more, for this is a social spell, to a south running spring or rivulet, where three lairds lands meet,' and dip your left shirt sleeve. Go to bed in sight of a fire, and hang your wet sleeve before it to dry. Lie awake; and, some time about midnight, an apparition, having the exact figure of the grand object in question, will come and turn the sleeve, as if to dry the other side of it.

Whiles owre a linn the burnie plays,
As through the glen it wimpl't;
Whiles round a rocky scar it strays,
While in a wiel it dimpl't;
Whiles glitter'd to the nightly rays,

Wi' bickering, dancing dazzle;
Whiles cookit underneath the braes,
Below the spreading hazle,

Unseen that night.

Amang the brachens, on the brae,
Between her and the moon,
The De'il, or else an outler quey,
Gat up and gae a croon :
Poor Leezie's heart maist lap the hool;
Near lavrock height she jumpit,
But mis't a foot, and in the pool
Out-owre the lugs she plumpit,

Wi' a plunge that night.

In order on the clean hearth-stane,
The luggies three* are ranged,

Take three dishes; put clean water in one, foul water in another, leave the third empty; blindfold a person, and lead him to the hearth, where the dishes are ranged: he (or she) dips the left hand; if by chance in the clean water, the future husband or wife will come to the bar of matrimony a maid; if in the foul, a widow; if in the empty dish, it fortels, with equal certainty, no marriage at all. It is repeated three times; and every time the arrangement of the dishes is altered.

And every time great care is ta'en
To see them duly changed:
Auld Uncle John, wha wedlock's joys
Sin' Mar's year did desire,

Because he gat the toom dish thrice,

He flang them in the fire

In wrath that night.

Wi' merry sangs, and friendly cracks,

I wat they didna weary;

And unco tales, and funny jokes ;

Their sports were cheap and cheery : Till butter'd so'ns*, wi' fragrant lunt, Set a' their gabs a-steerin;

Syne wi' a social glass o' strunt

They set them aff careerin

Fu' blythe that night.

* Sowens, with butter instead of milk to them, is always the Halloween supper.

ON A

YOUNG LADY.

THE flower of beauty is your cheek,
A ray of heaven your smile,
Your voice is like an angel's song,
Which dying pains beguile.

Your breath is just the fan of love,

Inspiring soft desire.

And every breeze hath force to set
A thousand hearts on fire,

EPITAPH.

BENEATH this stane lies Willie Hay,
Stop, passenger, and read,
Wha, sleekily, wad naething say,
Till drink had ta'en his head.
But Clootie has him steeve a-haud
In his auld dark domains;

Whare sair he does distress the lad

Wi' mony racking pains.

THE

DOMINIE DEPOSED.

IN THREE PARTS.

BY WILLIAM FORBES, A M