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What inwitte * could have thoughte,
That the plesaunce is yboughte,

Of a momente, with yeres of sorrowe,
Or, that the softe delyghte,
Of one dewye twilyghte,

Sholde breste † into stormes on the morrowe.

The brighte violette grewe,
And the red rose threwe,

Its riche fragraunce whilome on the aire :
The nightingale's clere songe,
Through the wide forreste yronge;

All the sprite of swete love regnedde there.

Butte mie false love has fledde;
All mie brighte hopes are dedde;

Crasedde S hearte and fame forlore | be to mee.
Yjapedde, what conne I doe,
Butte where thilke whyte thorne grewe,

To digge my colde grave--thenne, to die.

t Reigned.


* Understanding. || Utterly lost.

† Burst... f Deceived.



AIR-Black eyed Susan.

The sun was wearing down the lift,

The gloamin vapours fa'ing chill,
The clouds did owre the carry shift,

And lowne the breeze was on the hill; When pensive, Mary, down by Cartha stray'd, Lamenting Willie 'neath the gowan laid.

In this retired rural scene,

Far frae the paths o'toil and care,
How happy I wi' him hae been,

And tasted bliss, I'll taste nae mair.
The present moments by unnoted flew,
While mair endearing every meeting grew.

The siller firs that overhang

Yon fairy cove below the brae, Aft echoed to my Willie's sang

Saft as the blackbird's e'ening lay.

Now echo sleeps within the gloonay grot
Save when some warbler tunes his mellow note.

Wi' Willie I hae waunnert here

When light was faded frae the sky; An' kentna what it was to fear,

When a' that held my heart was nigh ; E'en sable darkness has peculiar charms When lovers fondly sigh in ithers arms.

O! when in secret I review

Joys, memory shall never tine;
I feel in nameless pangs anew

That wretchedness for life is mine. 0! I could every human ill sustain, But wanting Willie, comfort I disdain.

To me the vernal tints of spring

Can naught of happiness impart!
I joyless hear the linnets sing,

For hope is banish'd frae my heart;
Whispers a warning voice in my decay,
Come, join thy Willic, virgin, come away.



The storm sweeps wildly through the sky,

And loud the angry waters roar, Our bark hath liv'd in tempest high,

But such as this ne'er brav'd before; Then warily, steadily, helmsman, steer, And we yet the headland cape may clear.

Round the light’ning wings its flight,

O’er our heads the thunders roll, But in the storm as in the fight,

No fear should shake the seaman's soul : Then warily, steadily, helmsman, steer, And we yet the headland cape may clear.

The storm is o'er, the sky serene,

The destin'd Port is now in view, Yet many a danger lurks unseen,

Let each then, to his post be true : O warily, steadily, helmsman, steer, And soon our Bark will the offing clear.

'Tis done at length we safely moor,

And transport fills each seaman's breast,
To tread again the wish'd-for shore,

And be by dearest friends carest :
Yet warily, steadily, sailor, steer,
There are dangers still on shore to fear.



AIR-Days o' Langsyne.

The primrose may blaw in the dawn o' the spring,
In the grey dewy e’ening the mavis may sing,
The white-breasted gowan may deck the green shaw,
And the red rose o' summer perfuming may blaw,
But the sad sighing echoes a' join me to tell,
That these sweets canna bring me my Mary Campbell.

+ This Song was composed on learning that Mary Campbell was the name of Burns' “ Highland Mary," and although that immortal author has him. self pourtrayed in characters the most touching, his grief for the loss of his Mary, in the pathetic Songs of " The Highland lassie, O.” “ Mary in Heafen,” and others, so as to supersede the necessity of any other commemora. tive composition on the subject, yet it must be allowed that the present effu. sion is not altogether superfluous nor unimpressive. " My Highland lassie (says the Ayrshire Bard) was a warm-hearted, charming young creature as ever blessed a man with generous love. After a pretty long tract of the

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