SONG. Now bank an' brae are claith'd in green, The child wha boasts o' warld's walth, Ah, fortune canna gie me mair! THE BONNIE LAD THAT'S FAR AWA. O how can I be blythe and glad, Or how can I gang brisk and braw, When the bonnie lad that I lo'e best Is o'er the hills and far awa? It's no the frosty winter wind, It's no the driving drift and snaw; My father pat me frae his door, My friends they hae disown'd me a';But I hae ane will tak my part, The bonnie lad that's far awa. A pair o' gloves he gave to me, And silken snoods he gave me twa; The bonnie lad that's far awa. The weary winter soon will pass, SONG+. Out over the Forth I look to the north, But I look to the west, when I gae to rest, The lad that is dear to my babie and me. Ribbands for binding the hair. I have heard the country girls, in the Merse and Teviotdale, sing a song, the first stanza of which greatly resembles the opening of this. O how can I be blythe or glad, E. Of this exquisite ballad the last verse only is printed in Dr. Currie's edition.-He did not know that the opening stanza existed. LINES ON A PLOUGHMAN. As I was a wandering ae morning in spring, The lav'rock in the morning she'll rise frae her nest, And mount to the air wi' the dew on her breast*, And wi' the merry ploughman she'll whistle and sing, And at night she'll return to her nest back again. I'LL AYE CA' IN BY YON TOWN. I'll aye ca' in by yon town, And by yon garden green, again; I'll aye ca' in by yon town, And see my bonnie Jean again. There's nane sall ken, there's nane sall guess, * It is pleasing to mark those touches of sympathy which show the sons of genius to be of one kindred. In the following passage, from the poem of his countryman, the same figure is illustrated with characteristic simplicity; and never were the tender and the sublime of poetry more happily united, nor a more affectionate tribute paid to the memory of Burns. "Thou, simple bird, Of all the vocal quire, dwell'st in a home + Burns. But she my fairest, faithfu' lass, And stownlins* we sall meet again. She'll wander by the aiken tree, When trystin-timet draws near again; WHISTLE O'ER THE LAVE O'T. First when Maggy was my care, Meg was meek, and Meg was mild, Whistle o'er the lave o'ts How we live, my Meg and me, Whistle o'er the lave o't. Wha I wish were maggot's meat, YOUNG JOCKEY. Young Jockey was the blythest lad Stownlins-By stealth. †Tryssin-time-The time of appointment. Fu' blythe he whistled at the gaud*, He roos'd my waist sae genty sma; My Jockey toils upon the plain, Thro' wind and weet, thro' frost and snaw; And o'er the lee I leuk fu' fain When Jockey's owsen hameward ca'. MCPHERSON'S FAREWEL. Farewel ye dungeons, dark and strong, Sae rantingly, sae wantonly, Sae dauntingly gaed he; He play'd a spring and danc'd it round, Oh, what is death but parting breath?― I've dar'd his face, and in this place Sae rantingly, &c. Untie these bands from off my handst, And bring to me my sword; *The gaud-at the plough. + See the 2d verse of the ballad of Hughie Gra ham, p. 201. |