Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose,
Upon its thorny tree;

But my fause Luver staw my rose,
And left the thorn wi' me.
Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose,
Upon a morn in June;

And sae I flourished on the morn,
And sae was pu'd or noon.

THE BANKS O' DOON

THIRD VERSION

YE banks and braes o' bonie Doon,
How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair?
How can ye chant ye little birds,

And I sae weary fu' o' care!

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

Departed never to return.

Aft hae I rov'd by Bonie Doon,

To see the rose and woodbine twine:
And ilka bird sang o' its Luve,

And fondly sae did I o' mine;
Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose,
Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree!
And my fause Luver staw my rose,

But ah! he left the thorn wi' me.

LAMENT FOR JAMES, EARL OF GLENCAIRN

THE wind blew hollow frae the hills,

By fits the sun's departing beam

Look'd on the fading yellow woods,

That wav'd o'er Lugar's winding stream:

Beneath a craigy steep, a Bard,

Laden with years and meikle pain, In loud lament bewail'd his lord,

Whom Death had all untimely ta'en.

He lean'd him to an ancient aik,

Whose trunk was mould'ring down with years; His locks were bleachèd white with time, His hoary cheek was wet wi' tears! And as he touch'd his trembling harp, And as he tun'd his doleful sang, The winds, lamenting thro' their caves, To Echo bore the notes alang.

"Ye scatter'd birds that faintly sing,
The reliques o' the vernal queir!
Ye woods that shed on a' the winds
The honours of the aged year!
A few short months, and glad and gay,
Again ye'll charm the ear and e'e;
But nocht in all-revolving time

Can gladness bring again to me.

"I am a bending aged tree,

That long has stood the wind and rain; But now has come a cruel blast,

And my last hald of earth is gane; Nae leaf o' mine shall greet the spring, Nae simmer sun exalt my bloom;

But I maun lie before the storm,

And ithers plant them in my room.

"I've seen sae mony changefu' years,
On earth I am a stranger grown:
I wander in the ways of men,
Alike unknowing, and unknown:
Unheard, unpitied, unreliev'd,

I bear alane my lade o' care,

For silent, low, on beds of dust,

Lie a' that would my sorrows share.

"And last, (the sum of a' my griefs!)
My noble master lies in clay;
The flow'r amang our barons bold,

His country's pride, his country's stay:
In weary being now I pine,

For a' the life of life is dead, And hope has left my aged ken, On forward wing for ever fled.

"Awake thy last sad voice, my harp! The voice of woe and wild despair! Awake, resound thy latest lay,

Then sleep in silence evermair! And thou, my last, best, only friend, That fillest an untimely tomb, Accept this tribute from the Bard

Thou brought from Fortune's mirkest gloom.

"In Poverty's low barren vale,

Thick mists obscure involv'd me round;
Though oft I turn'd the wistful eye,
Nae ray of fame was to be found:
Thou found'st me, like the morning sun
That melts the fogs in limpid air,
The friendless bard and rustic song
Became alike thy fostering care.

"O! why has worth so short a date,
While villains ripen grey with time?
Must thou, the noble, gen'rous, great,
Fall in bold manhood's hardy prim
Why did I live to see that day—
A day to me so full of woe?
O! had I met the mortal shaft
That laid my benefactor low!

"The bridegroom may forget the bride
Was made his wedded wife yestreen;

The monarch may forget the crown
That on his head an hour has been;

The mother may forget the child

That smiles sae sweetly on her knee;
But I'll remember thee, Glencairn,

And a' that thou hast done for me!"

LINES TO SIR JOHN WHITEFOORD, BART

THOU, who thy honor as thy God rever'st,

Who, save thy mind's reproach, nought earthly fear'st, To thee this votive offering I impart,

The tearful tribute of a broken heart.

The Friend thou valued'st, I, the Patron lov'd;

His worth, his honour, all the world approved:

We'll mourn till we too go as he has gone,

And tread the shadowy path to that dark world unknown.

CRAIGIEBURN WOOD

SWEET closes the ev'ning on Craigieburn Wood,
And blythely awaukens the morrow;

But the pride o' the spring in the Craigieburn Wood
Can yield me nought but sorrow.

Chorus.-Beyond thee, dearie, beyond thee, dearie,
And O to be lying beyond thee!

O sweetly, soundly, weel may he sleep
That's laid in the bed beyond thee!

I see the spreading leaves and flowers,
I hear the wild birds singing;
But pleasure they hae nane for me,
While care my heart is wringing.
Beyond thee, &c.

I can na tell, I maun na tell,

I daur na for your anger;

But secret love will break my heart,
If I conceal it langer.
Beyond thee, &c.

I see thee gracefu', straight and tall,
I see thee sweet and bonie;
But oh, what will my torment be,
If thou refuse thy Johnie!
Beyond thee, &c.

To see thee in another's arms,
In love to lie and languish,
'Twad be my dead, that will be seen,
My heart wad burst wi' anguish.
Beyond thee, &c.

But Jeanie, say thou wilt be mine,
Say thou lo'es nane before me;
And a' my days o' life to come
I'll gratefully adore thee,
Beyond thee, &c.

THE BONIE WEE THING

Chorus.-Bonie wee thing, cannie wee thing,
Lovely wee thing, wert thou mine,
I wad wear thee in my bosom,
Lest my jewel it should tine.

WISHFULLY I look and languish
In that bonie face o' thine,
And my heart it stounds wi' anguish,
Lest my wee thing be na mine.

Bonie wee thing, &c.

Wit and Grace, and Love, and Beauty,

In ae constellation shine;