next morning, the prize was won by Mr Fergusson; "When up rose our bard, like a prophet in drink • Craigdarroch, thou'lt soar when creation shall sink! But if thou would flourish immortal in rhyme, Come-one bottle more-and have at the sublime! Thy line, that have struggled for freedom with Bruce, So thine be the laurel, and mine be the bay; To attempt to ascertain the particular merit of each of BURNS's songs would be an endless task. They are on various subjects, and, by the lovers of music, are all admired. Like his other poems, they exhibit such views of their several subjects, whether gay, humorous, or sad, that the reader of taste and feeling fancies every thing, of which he is reading, presented to his view. In The Chevalier's Lament, we see that adventurer in an attitude of the deepest despondency: Lord Strathallan is presented to us, in a cave, during a tempestuous night, lamenting the defeat at Culloden, which had left him and his party without a friend; and we see the aged pair, John Anderson and his wife, in the most interesting attitude. We enter into the feelings of |