LADIE MARY ANN. U LADY MARY ANN looks o'er the castle wa', “O father, O father, an' ye think it fit, Lady Mary Ann was a flower in the dew, Sir Evan Du, and his men true, Came linking up the brink, man; Oh' on a ri, oh' on a ri, Why should she lose king Shames, man? grow-With furichinish, an' stay a while, She shall break a' her banes then ; THE battle of Killycranky was the last stand made by the Clans for James, after his abdication. Here Dundee fell in the moment of victory, and with him fell the hopes of the party. -General Mackay, when he found the Highlanders did not pursue his flying army, said, "Dundee must be killed, or he never would have overlooked this advantage.”—A great stone marks the spot where Dundee fell.-BURNS. CLAVERS and his highland-men, The lads began to claw, then. O'er bush, o'er bank, o'er ditch, o'er stank, Hur skipt about, hur leapt about, And flang amang them a', man; THEEZ were two old songs to this tune; one of them contained some striking lines, the other entered into the sweets of wooing rather too freely for modern poetry.-It began, "Ae simmer night on Logan braes, I helped a bonnie lassie on wi' her claes, First wi' her stockins, an' syne wi' her shoon, But she gied me the glaiks when a' was done." ANOTHER SET. LOGAN WATER, BY JOHN MAYNE. By Logan's streams that rin sae deep, Nae mair at Logan Kirk will he, O'ER THE MOOR AMANG THE HEATHER. THIS song is the composition of a Jean Glover, a girl who was not only a w-e, but also a thief; and in one or other character has visited most of the Correction Houses in the West.-She was born, I believe, in Kilmarnock :-I took the song down from her singing as she was strolling through the country, with a slight-ofhand blackguard.-BURNS, COMIN' thro' the Craigs o' Kyle, O'er the moor amang the heather, Says I, my dearie, where is thy hame, We laid us down upon a bank, The other seems older, but it is not so charac-She left her flocks at large to rove Sae warm and sunny was the weather, teristic of Scottish courtship. "Logan Water's wide and deep, An' laith am I to weet my feet; Amang the bonnie blooming heather. O'er the moor, &c. While thus we lay she sang a sang, |