Hear it not, WALLACE! in thy bed of death. Is this the ancient Caledonian form, Firm as the rock, resistless as the storm? Show me that eye which shot immortal hate, Blasting the despot's proudest bearing; Show me that arm which, nerv'd with thundering fate, No more that glance lightens afar; That palsied arm no more whirls on the waste of war. INSCRIPTION TO MISS GRAHAM OF FINTRY So may no ruffian-feeling in my breast, Or Pity's notes, in luxury of tears, As modest Want the tale of woe reveals; ON THE SEAS AND FAR AWAY Tune "O'er the hills and far away." Chorus. On the seas and far away, On stormy seas and far away; When in summer noon I faint, At the starless, midnight hour When Winter rules with boundless power, As the storms the forests tear, And thunders rend the howling air, Listening to the doubling roar, Surging on the rocky shore, All I can-I weep and pray, Peace, thy olive wand extend, And as a brother kindly greet; Then may heav'n with prosperous gales, Fill my sailor's welcome sails; To my arms their charge convey, My dear lad that's far away. On the seas and far away, On stormy seas and far away; Το My dear lad that's far away. CA' THE YOWES TO THE KNOWES SECOND VERSION Chorus.-Ca' the yowes to the knowes, Ca' them where the heather grows, Ca' them where the burnie rowes, HARK the mavis' e'ening sang, My bonie Dearie. Ca' the yowes, &c. We'll gae down by Clouden side, Yonder Clouden's silent towers,1 Fairies dance sae cheery. Ca' the yowes, &c. Ghaist nor bogle shalt thou fear, Thou'rt to Love and Heav'n sae dear, Nocht of ill may come thee near; My bonie Dearie. Ca' the yowes, &c. Fair and lovely as thou art, Thou hast stown my very heart; I can die-but canna part, My bonie Dearie. Ca' the yowes, &c. 1 An old ruin in a sweet situation at the confluence of the Clouden and the Nith. -R. B. SHE SAYS SHE LOES ME BEST OF A' Tune "Oonagh's Waterfall." SAE flaxen were her ringlets, Her eyebrows of a darker hue, Twa laughing e'en o' lovely blue; Wad make a wretch forget his woe; What pleasure, what treasure, And aye my Like harmony her motion, Her pretty ankle is a spy, Wad make a saint forget the sky: Her faultless form and gracefu' air; Declar'd that she could do nae mair: Let others love the city, And gaudy show, at sunny noon; Gie me the lonely valley, The dewy eve and rising moon, Fair beaming, and streaming, Her silver light the boughs amang; While falling, recalling, The amorous thrush concludes his sang; TO DR. MAXWELL On Miss Jessy Staig's recovery. MAXWELL, if merit here you crave, That merit I deny; You save fair Jessie from the grave!- TO THE BEAUTIFUL MISS ELIZA J-N How, Liberty! girl, can it be by thee nam'd? Free and Equal indeed, while mankind thou enchainest, ON CHLORIS Requesting me to give her a Sprig of Blossomed Thorn. FROM the white-blossom'd sloe my dear Chloris requested No, by Heavens! I exclaim'd, let me perish, if ever ON SEEING MRS. KEMBLE IN YARICO KEMBLE, thou cur'st my unbelief Of Moses and his rod; At Yarico's sweet note of grief The rock with tears had flow'd. EPIGRAM ON A COUNTRY LAIRD, not quite so wise as Solomon. BLESS Jesus Christ, O Cardoness, |