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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 anity between the music and the verses. The air is lively, the words plaintive. TUNE-I had a horse.

On poortith1 cauld and restless love,
Ye wreck my peace between ye;
Yet poortith a' I could forgive,
An' 'twere na for my Jeanie.

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, &c.

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.

1 Poverty.-2 Rest.

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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,' wealth and state,
Can never make them eerie."
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 roved 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.

1 Hobgoblins.-2 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 the original version of the song possesses.

YE flowery banks o' bonnie Doon,
How can ye blume' so fair;
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
And I sae fu' o' care?

Thou 'lt break my heart, thou bonnie bird,
That sings upon the bough;

Thou minds me o' the happy days

When my fause' luve3 was true.

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

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

Aft hae I roved by bonnie Doon,

To see the woodbine twine;
An' ilka bird sang o' its luve,
An' sae did I o' mine.

Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd' a rose
Frae aff its thorny tree,
And my fause luver staw 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 line 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:

1 Bloom.-2 False. Love.-4 Every.-5 Did pull.- Did steal.—” Drunk, or had been drinking.

Maggie coost' her head fu' heigh,'
Look'd asklent and unco skeigh,"
Gart poor Duncan stand abeigh ;*
Ha, ha, the wooing o't.

Duncan fleech'd,' and Duncan pray'd;
Ha, ha, the wooing o't,
Meg was deaf as Ailsa Craig,
Ha, ha, the wooing o 't.
Duncan sigh'd baith out and in,
Grat his een baith bleer't and blin','
Spak o' louping owre a linn;20
Ha, ha, the wooing o't.

Time and chance are but a tide,
Ha, ha, the wooing o't.
Slighted love is sair to bide!

Ha, ha, the wooing o' t.

"Shall Í, like a fool," quoth he,
"For a haughty hizzie die?
She may gae to-France for me!"
Ha, ha, the wooing o't.

How it comes-let doctors tell,
Ha, ha, the wooing o 't,
Meg grew sick-as he grew well,
Ha, ha, the wooing o't.
Something in her bosom wrings,
For relief a sigh she brings;

And oh, her een, they spak sic things!
Ha, ha, the wooing o't.

Duncan was a lad o' grace,

Ha, ha, the wooing o 't,

Maggie's was a piteous case,

Ha, ha, the wooing o't.

Duncan could na be her death,
Swelling pity smoor'd" his wrath,
Now they're crouse1 and cantie13 baith,
Ha, ha, the wooing o't.

1 Cast, or carried.-2 Full high.-3 Asquint.-4 Very proud.- Made.— At a shy distance.-7 Entreated.-8 A well-known rock in the frith of Clyde. Wept till his eyes were sore and dim.-10 Talked of jumping over a precipice, or waterfall.-11 Smothered.-12 Cheerful.-13 Gentle.

THE COUNTRY LASSIE.

"I wish Burns had written more of his songs in this lively and dramatic way. The enthusiastic affection of the maiden, and the suspicious care and antique wis. dom of the 'dame of wrinkled eild,' animate and lengthen the song without making it tedious. Robie' has indeed a faithful and eloquent mistress, who vindicates true love and poverty against all the insinuations of one whose speech is spiced with very pithy and biting proverbs."-Allan Cunningham.

TUNE-John, come kiss me now.

IN simmer when the hay was mawn,
And corn waved green in ilka field,
While clover blooms white o'er the lea,'
And roses blaw in ilka bield;2
Blythe Bessy in the milking shiel,3
Says, "I'll be wed, come o 't what will;"
Out spak a dame in wrinkled eild,*
"O' guid advisement comes nae ill.
"It's ye hae wooers monie ane,
And, lassie, ye 're but young, ye ken;
Then wait a wee," and cannie wale
A routhie butt, a routhie ben:"
There's Johnie o' the Buskie-glen,
Fu' is his barn, fu' is his byre;
Tak this frae me, my bonnie hen,
It's plenty beets the lover's fire."
"For Johnie o' the Buskie-glen,
I dinna care a single flie;
He lo'es sae weel his craps and kye,
He has nae love to spare for me;
But blythe's the blink o' Robie's ee,
And weel I wat he lo'es me dear:
Ae blink o' him I wad na gie

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For Buskie-glen and a' his gear."'1o

"O thoughtless lassie, life 's a faught;"
The canniest gate, 12 the strife is sair;"

But ay fu'-han't is fechtin' best,1

14

A hungry care's an unco1 care;

1 The green field.-2 Every sheltered spot.-3 Shed.-4 Old age.- Little. 6 Choose.-7 Plentiful or well-stocked house.-8 Adds fuel to.-9 Crops.10 Wealth.-11 Fight.-12 Gentlest manner.-13 Sore.-14 'Tis always best to fight full-handed.-15 Strange, or very great.

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