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To try her sweet temper, oft times am I seen

Unto the yowes a mitkin, kind sir, she says,
With a double and adieu to thee fair May.
What if I gang alang wi' thee, my ain pretty
May,

Wi' thy red rosy cheeks, and thy coal-black
hair;

Wad I be aught the warse o' that, kind sir, she

says,

With a double and adieu to thee fair May. &c. &c.

THE POSIE.

la revels all day with the nymphs on the green: O LUVE will venture in, where it daur na weel

Tho' painful my absence, my doubts she be

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be seen,

O luve will venture in, where wisdom ance has been,

But I will down yon river rovė, amang the wood sae green,

And a' to pu' a posie to my ain dear May.

The primrose I will pu', the firstling o' the year,
For she's the pink o' woman kind, and blooms
And I will pu' the pink, the emblem o' my dear,

without a peer;

And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May.

I'll pu' the budding rose, when Phœbus peeps

in view,

For it's like a baumy kiss o' her sweet bonie

mou;

The hyacinth's for constancy wi' its unchanging blue,

And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May.

The lily it is pure, and the lily it is fair,
And in her lovely bosom I'll place the lily there;
The daisy's for simplicity and unaffected air,

And a to be a posie to my ain dear May;
The hawthorn I will pu', wi' its locks o' siller

grey,

Ir appears evident to me that Oswald composed his Roslin Castle on the modulation of this air.-In the second part of Oswald's, in the three first bars, he has either hit on a wonderful similarity to, or else he has entirely borrowed the three first bars of the old air; and the Where, like an aged man, it stands at break o' close of both tunes is almost exactly the same. The old verses to which it was sung, when I took down the notes from a country girl's voice, had no great merit-The following is a speci

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day,

But the songster's nest within the bush I winna

tak away;

And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May

The woodbine I will pu', when the e'ning sta is near,

And the diamond draps o' dew shall be her e'er sae clear;

The violet's for modesty which weel she fa's to

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MARY'S DREAM.

He wad neither ly in barn, nor yet wid he in
byre,

But in ahint the ha' door, or else afore the fire,
And we'll gang nae mair, &c.

THE Mary here alluded to is generally supper to be Miss Mary Macghie, daughter to the aird of Airds, in Galloway. The poet was a Mr. Alexander Lowe, who likewise The beggar's bed was made at e'en wi' good wrote another beautiful song, called Pompey's clean straw and hay,

lay,

Ghost. I have seen a poetic epistle from him And in ahint the ha' door, and there the beggar in North America, where he now is, or lately was, to a lady in Scotland.-By the strain of the verses, it appeared that they allude to some love disappointment.

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And we'll gang nae mair, fe.

Up raise the good man's dochter, and for to bar the door,

And there she saw the beggar standin i' the floor,

And we'll gang nae mair, &c.

He took the lassie in his arms, and to the bed he ran,

O hooly, hooly wi' me, sir, ye'll waken our goodman,

And we'll gang nae mair, fc.

The beggar was a cunnin loon, and ne'er a word he spake,

Until he got his turn done, syne he began to crack,

And we'll gang nae mair, &c.

Is there ony dogs into this town? maiden, tell me true,

And what wad ye do wi' them, my hinny and my dow?

And we'll gang nae mair, &c.

They'll rive a' my mealpocks, and do me meikle

wrang,

O dool for the doing o't! are ye the puir man?
And we'll gang nae mair, &c.

Then she took up the mealpocks and flang them o'er the wa',

The deil gae wi' the mealpocks, my maidenhead and a',

And we'll gang nae mair, &c.

I took ye for some gentleman, at least the laird
of Brodie ;

O dool for the doing o't! are ye the puir bodie?
And we'll gang nae mair, &c.

SAID to have been composed oy King James He took the lassie in his arms, and gae her kisses V., on a frolic of his own.

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three,

And four-and-twenty hunder merk to pay the nurice-fee,

And we'll gang nae mair, &c.

He took a horn frae his side, and blew baith loud and shrill,

And four-and-twenty belted knights came skipping o'er the hill,

And we'll gang nae mair, &c.

And he took out his little knife, loot a' his dud- | When 'tis carded, row'd and spun,

dies fa',

And he was the brawest gentleman that was amang them a'.

And we'll gang nae mair, &c.

The beggar was a cliver loon, and he lap shoulder height,

O ay for sicken quarters as I gat yesternight! And we'll gang nae mair, &c.

THE MAID THAT TENDS THE GOATS.

BY MR. DUDGEON.

Then the work is haflens done;
But when woven, drest and clean,
It may be cleading for a queen.

Sing, my bonny harmless sheep, That feed upon the mountain's steep, Bleating sweetly as ye go,

Thro' the winter's frost and snow;
Hart, and hynd, and fallow-deer,
No be haff so useful are:

Frae kings to him that hads the plow,
Are all oblig'd to tarry woo.

Up, ye shepherds, dance and skip, O'er the hills and vallies trip, Sing up the praise of tarry woo,

THIS Dudgeon is a respectable farmer's son Sing the flocks that bear it too; in Berwickshire.

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Harmless creatures without blame,

That clead the back, and cram the wame, Keep us warm and hearty fou;

Leese me on the tarry woo.

How happy is the shepherd's life, Far frae courts, and free of strife, While the gimmers bleat and bae, And the lambkins answer mae : No such music to his ear;Of thief or fox he has no fear; Sturdy Kent and Colly true, Will defend the tarry woo.

He lives content, and envies none; Not even a monarch on his throne, Tho' he the royal sceptre sways, Has not sweeter holidays. Who'd be a king, can ony tell, When a shepherd sings sae well? Sings sae well, and pays his due, With honest heart and tarry woo.

THE COLLIER'S BONNIE LASSIE

THE first half stanza is much older than the days of Ramsay.-The old words began thus:

THE collier has a dochter, and, O, she's won

der bonnie!

A laird he was that sought her, rich baith in lands and money.

She wad na hae a laird, nor wad she be a lady But she wad hae a collier, the color o' her daddie.

THE collier has a aaughter,

And O she's wonder bonny; A laird he was that sought her, Rich baith in lands and money: The tutors watch'd the motion Of this young honest lover; But love is like the ocean; Wha can its depth discover?

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What pass'd, I guess, was harmless play,
And naething sure unmeet;

THE old words of this song are omitted here, though much more beautiful than these insert-For, ganging hame, I heard them say,

ed; which were mostly composed by poor Fergusson, in one of his merry humours.-The old words began thus:-

I'LL rowe thee o'er the lea-rig,

My ain kind dearie, O,

I'll rowe thee o'er the lea-rig,
My ain kind dearie, O,

Altho' the night were ne'er sae wat,
And I were ne'er sae weary, O,
I'll rowe thee o'er the lea-rig,
My ain kind dearie, O.—

WILL ye gang o'er the lea-rig,
My ain kind dearie, O?
And cuddle there sae kindlie,
My ain kind dearie, O?
At thorny dike and birken-tree,

We'll daff and ne'er be weary, O;
They'll scug ill een frae you and me,
My ain kind dearie, O!

Nae herds, wi' kent or colly, there,
Shall ever come to fear ye, O;
But lavrocks, whistling in the air,

Shall woo, like me, their dearie, O.
While others herd their lambs and yowes,
And toil for warld's gear, my jo;
Upon the lea, my pleasure grows,
my kind dearie, O,

Wi' thee

They lik'd a walk sae sweet;
And that they aften should return,

Sic pleasure to renew ;

Quoth Mary, Love, I like the burn,
And ay shall follow you.

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The cauld blasts of the winter wind,
That thrilled thro' my heart,
They're a' blaun by; I hae him safe,
'Till death we'll never part;
But what puts parting in my head?

The present moment is our ain,
The neist we never saw !

are worthy of the first poet.-It is long poste-It may be far awa; rior to Ramsay's days.-About the year 1771, or 72, it came first on the streets as a ballad; and I suppose the composition of the song was not much anterior to that period.*

And are ye sure the news is true?
And are ye sure he's weel?
Is this a time to talk o' wark?
Ye jads, lay by your wheel!
Is this a time to talk of wark,
When Colin's at the door?

Gie me my cloak! I'll to the quay,
And see him come ashore.

For there's nae luck about the house,
There's nae luck ava;

There's little pleasure in the house,
When our gudeman's awa.

Rise up, and mak a clean fire-side,
Put on the muckle pat;

Gie little Kate her cotton gown,
And Jock his Sunday's coat;

And mak their shoon as black as slaes,
Their hose as white as snaw;
It's a' to please my ain gudeman,
He likes to see them braw.

For there's nae luck, &c.

There is twa hens upon the bauk, 'Sbeen fed this month and mair; Mak haste and thraw their necks about,

That Colin weel may fare;

And spread the table neat and clean,

Gar ilka thing look braw;

It's a for love of my gudeman,→→

For he's been long awa.

For there's nae luck, &c.

• It is now ascertained that Meikle, the translator of Camoens, was the author of this song,

For there's nae luck, &c.

Since Colin's well, I'm well content, I hae nae mair to crave;

Could I but live to mak him blest,

I'm blest aboon the lave;

And will I see his face again!

And will I hear him speak!

I'm downright dizzy with the though

In troth I'm like to greet!

JOHN HAY'S BONNIE LASSIE.

JOHN HAY'S Bonnie Lassie was daughter of John Hay, Earl, or Marquis of Tweeddale, and late Countess Dowager of Roxburgh.-She died at Broomlands, near Kelso, some time between the years 1720 and 1740.

By smooth winding Tay a swain was reclining,
Aft cry'd he, Oh hey! maun I still live pining
Mysel thus away, and daurna discove
To my bonnie Hay that I am her lover!

Nae mair it will hide, the flame waxes stronger;
If she's not my bride, my days are nae langer :
Then I'll take a heart, and try at a venture,
Maybe, ere we part, my vows may content her.

She's fresh as the Spring, and sweet as Aurora, When birds mount and sing, bidding day a good

morrow;

The swaird of the mead, enamell'd wi' daisies, Looks wither'd and dead when twin'd of her

graces.

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