If love for love thou wilt na gie,h
At least be pity to me shewn ;
A thought ungentle canna be

The thought o' Mary Morrison.

SWEETEST MAY.

Altered from Allan Ramsay's song:-
There's my thumb, I'll ne'er beguile thee.'
Tea Table Miscellany, vol. i. p. 70.

SWEETEST May, let love inspire thee;
Take a heart which he desires thee;
As thy constant slave regard it;
For its faith and truth reward it.
Proof o' shot to birth or money,
Not the wealthy but the bonnie;
Not high-born, but noble-minded,
In love's silken band can bind it.

LOVELY NANCY.

Burns frequently went to the Bible for some of his finest sentiments: the two lines

Turn away these eyes of love,

Lest I die with pleasure,'

are almost the same as the following passage in the Song of Solomon, chap. vi. ver. 5. Turn away thine eyes from me, for they bave overcome me.'

Tunc.-The Quaker's Wife.
THINE am I, my faithful fair,
Thine, my lovely Nancy;
Ev'ry pulse along my veins,
Ev'ry roving fancy.

To thy bosom lay my heart,

There to throb and languish :
Though despair had wrung its core,
That would heal its anguish.

Take away these rosy lips,

Rich with balmy treasure;
Turn away these eyes of love
Lest I die with pleasure.

▲ Give.

What is life when wanting love?
Night without a morning:
Love's the cloudless summer's sun,
Nature gay adorning.

HUSBAND AND WIFE.

Tune.-My jo, Janet.

This song was written for Mr. Thomson's collection. "Tell me," says Burns in a letter to that gentleman, dated December, 1793, "how you like my song to Jo, Janet.""

SHE.

HUSBAND, husband, cease your strife,
Nor longer idly rave, sir,
Though I am your wedded wife,
Yet I am not your slave, sir.

HE.

One of two must still obey,
Nancy, Nancy;

Is it man or woman, say,
My spouse, Nancy?

SHE.

If 'tis still the lordly word,
Service and obedience;
I'll desert my sovereign lord,
And so, good bye allegiance!

HE.

Sad will I be, so bereft,

Nancy, Nancy;

Yet I 'll try to make a shift,

My spouse, Nancy.

SHE.

My poor heart then break it must,

My last hour I'm near it :

When you lay me in the dust,

Think, think how you will bear it.

HE.

I will hope and trust in Heaven,
Nancy, Nancy;

Strength to bear it will be given,
My spouse, Nancy.

SHE.

Well, sir, from the silent dead,
Still I'll try to daunt you;
Ever round your midnight bed,
Horrid sprites shall haunt you.

HE.

I'll wed another, like my dear
Nancy, Nancy;

Then all hell will fly for fear,
My spouse, Nancy.

POORTITH CAULD.

This excellent song has never become popular, owing, perhaps, to the want of unity between the music and the verses-the air is lively, the words plaintive.

Tune.-I had a horse.

O POORTITH" Cauld and restless love,
Ye wreck my peace between ye;
Yet poortith a' I could forgive,
An' 'twere na for my Jeanie.

CHORUS.

O why should Fate sic pleasure have,
Life's dearest bands untwining?
Or why sae sweet a flower as love,
Depend on Fortune's shining?
This warld's wealth when I think on,
It's pride, and a' the lave' o 't,
Fie, fie on silly coward man,
That he should be the slave o't.
O why should Fate, &e.

Her een, sae bonnie blue, betray
How she repays my passion;
But prudence is her owre-word aye,
She talks of rank and fashion.
O why should Fate, &c.

O wha can prudence think upon
And sic a lassie by him?
O wha can prudence think upon,
And sae in love as I am!

O why should Fate, &c

How blest the humble cotter's fate!
He woos his simple dearie;
The silly bogles,P wealth and state,
Can never make them eerie.q
O why should Fate, &c.

THE BANKS OF DOON.

On The Banks of Doon,' and near to each other, are the house in which the Poet was born, and the ruins of Alloway's auld haunted Kirk.'

Tune.-The Caledonian Hunt's Delight.

YE banks and braes o' bonnie Doon,
How can ye bloom so fresh and fair,
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
And I sae weary, fu' o' care!

Thou 'lt break my heart, thou warbling bird,
That wantons thro' the flowering thorn:
Thou minds me o' departed joys,

Departed-never to return.

Oft hae I rov'd by bonnie Doon,

To see the rose and woodbine twine;

And ilka bird sang o' its love,

And fondly sae did I o' mine. Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose, Fu'sweet upon its thorny tree; And my fause lover stole my rose, But, ah! he left the thorn wi' me. p Hobgoblins. 9 Afraid.

BANKS O' BONNIE DOON.

The reader will perceive that the measure of this copy of the Banks an' Braes o' Bonnie Doon' differs considerably from the foregoing. The Poet was obliged to adapt his words to a particular air, and in so doing, he lost much of the simplicity and beauty which this original version of the song possesses. YE flowery banks o' bonnie Doon,

How can ye blumes so fair;

How can ye chant, ye little birds,

And I sae fu' o' care?

Thoul't break my heart, thou bonnie bird,
That sings upon the bough;

Thou minds me o' the happy days

When my fauset luve" was true.

Thou 'lt break my heart, thou bonnie bird,
That sings beside thy mate;

For sae I sat, and sae I sung,
An' wist na o' my fate.

Aft hae I rov'd by bonnie Doon,

To see the woodbine twine;

An' ilkaw bird sang o' its luve,
An' sae did I o' mine.

Wi' lightsome heart I pu'dx a rose,
Frae aff its thorny tree,
And my fause luver stawy the rose,
And left the thorn wi' me.

DUNCAN GRAY.

This song has nothing in common with the old licentious ballad of the same name, but the first fine and part of the third. The rest is original.

DUNCAN GRAY came here to woo,

Ha, ha, the wooing o't,

On blythe Yule night when we were fou,"

Ha, ha, the wooing o't: