SONG.

Patriotic-unfinished.

HERE's a health to them that 's awa,
Here's a health to them that's awa;
And wha winna wish gude luck to our cause,
May never gude luck be their fa'!*
It's gude to be merry and wise,
It's gude to be honest and true,
It 's gude to support Caledonia's cause,
And bide by the buff and the blue.

Here 's a health to them that 's awa,
Here's a health to them that 's awa;
Here 's a health to Charlie, the chief o' the clan,
Altho' that his band be sma'.

May liberty meet wi' success!
May prudence protect her frae evil!

May tyrants and tyranny tine in the mist,
And wander their way to the devil!

Here's a health to them that 's awa,
Here's a health to them that 's awa,

Here 's a health to Tammie, the Norland laddie,

That lives at the lug o' the law !

Here 's freedom to him, that wad read,
Here's freedom to him, that wad write!

There's nane ever fear'd that the truth should be

heard,

But they wham the truth wad indite.

Here's a health to them that 's awa,

Here's a health to them that 's awa,

Here 's Chieftain M'Leod, a Chieftain worth gowd, Tho' bred amang mountains o' snaw!

SONG.

Now bank an' brae are claith'd in green,
An' scatter'd cowslips sweetly spring,
By Girvan's fairy haunted stream
The birdies flit on wanton wing.
To Cassillis' banks when e'ening fa's,
There wi' my Mary let me flee,
There catch her ilka glance of love
The bonie blink o' Mary's e'e!

The child wha boasts o' warld's walth,
Is aften laird o' meikle care;

But Mary she is a' my ain,

Ah, fortune canna gie me mair!
Then let me range by Cassillis' banks,
Wi' her the lassie dear to me,
And catch her ilka glance o' love,
The bonie blink o' Mary's e'e!

THE BONIE LAD THAT 'S FAR AWA..

How can I be blythe and glad,
Or how can I gang brisk and braw,
When the bonie lad that I lo'e best
Is o'er the hills and far awa?

Its no the frosty winter wind,
Its no the driving drift and snaw;
But ay the tear comes in my e'e,
To think on him that 's far awa.

My father pat me frae his door,
My friends they hae disown'd me a'.

But I hae ane will tak my part,
The bonie lad that's far awa.

A pair o' gloves he gave to me,
And silken snoods* he gave me twa;
And I will wear them for his sake,
The bonie lad that 's far awa.

The weary winter soon will pass,

And spring will cleed the birken-shaw;

And my sweet babie will be born,

And he 'll come hame that 's far awa.t

SONG.

Out over the Forth I look to the north,

But what is the north and its Highlands to me? The south nor the east gie ease to my breast, The far foreign land, or the wild rolling sea.

But I look to the west, when I gae to rest,

That happy my dreams and my slumbers may be; For far in the west lives he I lo'e best,

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,
Or in my mind contented be,
When he's far aff that I love best,
And banish'd frae my company.

B

+ Of this exquisite ballad the last verse only is printed in Dr. Currie's edition-He did not know that the opening stanza existed.

E

LINES ON A PLOUGHMAN.

As I was a wand'ring ae morning in spring,
I heard a young Ploughman sae sweetly to sing,
And as he was singin' thir words he did say,
There's nae life like the Ploughman in the month o

sweet May

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 AY CA' IN BY YON TOWN.

I 'll ay ca' in by yon town,

And by yon garden green, again;

I 'll ay ca' in by yon town,

And see my bonie Jean again.

There's nane sall ken, there's nane sall guess,
What brings me back the gate again,
But she my fairest faithfu' lass,

And stownlin's we sall meet again.

* It is pleasing to mark those touches of sympathy which shew 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
"The humblest; yet thy morning song ascends
"Nearest to Heaven;-sweet emblem of his song,f
"Who sung thee wakening by the daisy's side!

Grahame's Birds of Scotland, vol. ii, p. iv

+ Stownlins-By stealth.

†Burns.

She 'll wander by the aiken tree,
When trystin-time* draws near again;
And when her lovely form I see,
O haith, she's doubly dear again!

WHISTLE O'ER THE LAVE O'T.

First when Maggy was my care,
Heaven, I thought, was in her air;
Now we're married-spier nae mair-

Whistle o'er the lave o't.

Meg was meek, and Meg was mild,
Bonie Meg was nature's child-

-Wiser men than me 's beguil'd;

Whistle o'er the lave o't.

How we live, my Meg and me,
How we love and how we 'gree,
I care na by how few may see;

Whistle o'er the lave o't.

Wha I wish were maggot's meat,
Dish'd up in her winding sheet,

I could write-but Meg maun see 't

Whistle o'er the lave o't

YOUNG JOCKEY.

Young Jockey

was the blythest lad

In a' our town or here awa;

Fu' blythe Le whistled at the gaud,*

Fu' lightly danc'd he in the ha'!