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licacies, and made it at once more chaste and more

dull.

GO TO THE EWE-BUGHTS, MARION.

I am not sure if this old and charming air be of the South, as is commonly said, or of the North of Scotland. There is a song apparently as antient as Ewe-bughts, Marion, which sings to the same tune, and is evidently of the North.-It begins thus:

The Lord o'Gordon had three dochters,
Mary, Marget, and Jean,

They wad na stay at bonie Castle Gordon,
But awa to Aberdeen.

Will ye go to the ew-bughts, Marion,
And wear in the sheep wi' me;
The sun shines sweet, my Marion,

But nae haff sae sweet as thee.

O Marion's a bonny lass,

And the blyth blinks in her e'e; And fain wad I marry Marion, Gin Marion wad marry me.

There's gowd in your garters, Marion, And silk on your white hause-bane;

Fu' fain wad I kiss my Marion,

At e'en when I come hame.

There's braw lads in Earnslaw, Marion,
Wha gape, and glowr with their e'e,
At kirk when they see my Marion;
But nane of them lo'es like me.

I've nine milk-ews, my Marion,
A cow and a brawny quey,
I'll gie them a' to my Marion,
Just on her bridal-day:

And ye's get a green sey apron,

And waistcoat of the London brown, And wow! but ye will be vap'ring, Whene'er ye gang to the town.

I'm young and stout, my Marion;
Nane dance like me on the green;

And gin ye forsake me, Marion,
I'll e'en draw up wi' Jean :

Sae put on your pearlins, Marion,
And kyrtle of the cramasie:
And soon as my chin has nae
I shall come west, and see ye.*

hair on,

LEWIS GORDON.†

THIS air is a proof how one of our Scots tunes comes to be composed out of another. I have one of the earliest copies of the song, and it has prefixed,

Tune of Tarry Woo.

Of which tune, a different set has insensibly varied into a different air.-To a Scots critic, the pathos of the line,

"Tho' his back be at the wa","

-must be very striking.-It needs not a Jacobite prejudice to be affected with this song. The sup

* This is marked in the Tea Table Miscellany as an old song with additions.-Ed.

+ "Lord Lewis Gordon, younger brother to the then Duke of Gordon, commanded a detachment for the Chevalier, and acquitted himself with great gallantry and judgment. He died in 1754."

posed author of " Lewis Gordon" was a Mr. Geddes, priest, at Shencal, in the Ainzie.

Oh! send Lewie Gordon hame,
And the lad I winna name;
Tho' his back be at the wa',
Here's to him that's far awa!
Oh hon! my Highland man,
Oh, my bonny Highland man;
Weel would I my true-love ken,
Amang ten thousand Highland men.

Oh! to see his tartan-trews,

Bonnet blue, and laigh-heel'd shoes;

Philabeg aboon his knee;

That's the lad that I'll gang wi'!

Oh hon! &c.

The princely youth that I do mean,

Is fitted for to be a king;

On his breast he wears a star;

You'd tak him for the God of War.

Oh hon! &c.

Oh to see this Princely One,

Seated on a royal throne!
Disasters a' would disappear,

Then begins the Jub'lee year!

Oh hon! &c.

OH ONO CHRIO.*

Dr. Blacklock informed me that this song was composed on the infamous massacre of Glencoe.

Oh! was not I a weary wight!

Oh! ono chri, oh! ono chri—

Maid, wife, and widow, in one night!
When in my soft and yielding arms,

O! when most I thought him free from harms.
Even at the dead time of the night,

They broke my bower, and slew my knight.
With ae lock of his jet black hair,
I'll tye my heart for evermair;

Nae sly-tongued youth, or flatt'ring swain,
Shall e'er untye this knot again;

Thine still, dear youth, that heart shall be,
Nor pant for aught, save heaven and thee.
(The chorus repeated at the end of each line.)

I'LL NEVER LEAVE THEE.

THIS is another of Crawford's songs, but I do not think in his happiest manner.-What an ab

* A corruption of O hone a rie' signifying-Alas for the prince, or chief.

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