Macgibbon's gane: Ah! waes my heart!
The man in Music maist expert,
Wha could sweet melody impart,

And tune the reed,

Wi' sic a slee and pawky art;

But now he's dead.

Ilk carline now may grunt and grane,
Ilk bonny lassie mak great mane,
Since he's awa', I trow there's nane

The blithest sangster on the plain !
Alake, he's dead!

Now foreign sonnets bear the gree,
And crabbed queer variety

Of sounds fresh

sprung frae Italy,

A bastard breed!

Unlike that saft-tongu'd melody

Which now lies dead.

Could lav'rocks at the dawning day,
Could linties chirming frae the spray,
Or todling burns that smoothly play
O'er gowden bed,

Compare wi' Birks of Invermay?

But now they're dead.

O Scotland! that could aince afford
To bang the pith of Roman sword,
Winna your sons, wi' joint accord,
To battle speed?

And fight till Music be restor❜d,

Which now lies dead.

HALLOW-FAIR.

AT Hallowmas, whan nights grow lang,
And starnies shine fu' clear,
Whan fouk, the nippin' cauld to bang,
Their winter hap-warms wear,
Near Edinbrough a fair there hauds,
I wat there's nane whase name is,
For strappin dames and sturdy lads,
And cap and stoup, mair famous
Than it that day.

Upo' the tap o' ilka lum

The sun began to keek,

And bade the trig-made maidens come A sightly joe to seek

At Hallow-fair, whare browsters rare
Keep gude ale on the gantries,
And dinna scrimp ye o' a skair
O' kebbucks frae their pantries,
Fu' saut that day.

Here country John, in bannet blue,
And eke his Sunday's claes on,
Rins after Meg wi' rokelay new,
And sappy kisses lays on:
She'll tauntin' say, "Ye silly coof!

Be o' your gab mair spairin';"
He'll tak the hint, and criesh her loof
Wi' what will buy her fairin',
To chow that day.

Here chapmen billies tak their stand,
And shaw their bonny wallies;
Wow! but they lie fu' gleg aff hand

To trick the silly fallows :

Heh, sirs! what cairds and tinklers come,
And ne'er-do-weel horse-coupers,
And spac-wives, fenzying to be dumb,

Wi' a' siclike landloupers,

To thrive that day!

Here Sawney cries, frae Aberdeen,

Come ye to me fa need;

"The brawest shanks that e'er were seen "I'll sell ye cheap an' guid: "I wyt they are as protty hose "As come frae weyr or leem:

"Here, tak a rug, and shaw's your pose;

"Forseeth, my

ain's but teem

And light this day."

Ye wives, as ye gang through the fair,
O mak your bargains hooly !
O' a' thir wylie louns beware,
Or, fegs! they will ye spulzie.
For, fairnyear, Meg Thamson got,
Frae thir mischievous villains,
A scaw'd bit o' a penny note,
That lost a score o' shillins

To her that day.

The dinlin drums alarm our ears;
The sergeant screechs fu' loud,
"A' gentlemen and volunteers
"That wish your country gude,
"Come here to me, and I sall gie
"Twa guineas and a crown ;

"A bowl o' punch, that, like the sea,
"Will soom a lang dragoon

"Wi' ease this day."

Without, the cuissars prance and nicker,
And owre the ley-rig scud ;

In tents, the carles bend the bicker,
And rant and roar like wud.
Then there's sic yellowchin and din,
Wi' wives and wee-anes gabblin,
That ane might trow they were a-kin
To a' the tongues at Babylon,

Confus'd that day.

Whan Phoebus ligs in Thetis' lap,
Auld Reikie gies them shelter,
Whare cadgily they kiss the cap,
And ca't round helter-skelter.
Jock Bell gaed furth to play his freaks;
Great cause he had to rue it ;
For frae a stark Lochaber ax

He gat a clamihewit

Fu' sair that night.

"Ohon! (quo' he), I'd rather be
By sword or bagnet stickit,
"Than hae my crown or body wi'

"Sic deadly weapons nickit."
Wi' that he gat anither straik
Mair weighty than before,
That gart his feckless body aik,
And spew the reekin gore
Fu' red that night.