""Twas in the seventeen hundred year,
O' Christ and ninety-five,
That year I was the saddest man,
Of any man alive.

In March the three and twentieth day,
The sun raise clear and bright,

But O, I was a woeful man,

Ere toofa' of the night.

Yerl Galloway lang did rule the land,
Wi' equal right an' fame;

And thereto was his kinsman joined,
The Murray's noble name.

Yerl Galloway lang did rule the land,

Made me the judge o' strife;

But now Yerl Galloway's sceptre's broke,

And eke my hangman's knife."

The succeeding verses of the "Lamentation" are too personal for insertion.

WHA will buy my troggin,

Fine election ware; Broken trade o' Broughton,

A' in high repair.

Buy braw troggin,

Frae the banks o' Dee;

Wha wants troggin

Let him come to me.

There's a noble Earl's

Fame and high renown,

For an auld sang

Its thought the gudes were stown.

Buy braw troggin, &c.

Here's the worth o' Broughton
In a needle's ee;
Here's a reputation

Tint by Balmaghie

Buy braw troggin, &c.

Here's an honest conscience
Might a prince adorn;
Frae the downs o' Tinwald-
So was never worn.

Buy braw troggin, &c.

Here's its stuff and lining,
Cardoness' head;

Fine for a sodger

A' the wale o' lead.

Buy braw troggin, &c.

Here's a little wadset
Buittles scrap o' truth,
Pawn'd in a gin-shop
Quenching holy drouth.

Buy braw troggin, &c.

Here's armorial bearings
Frae the manse o' Urr;
The crest, an auld crab-apple
Rotten at the core.

Buy braw troggin, &c.

Here is Satan's picture,
Like a bizzard gled,
Pouncing poor Redcastle
Sprawlin' as a taed.

Buy braw troggin, &c.

Here's the worth and wisdom
Collieston can boast;

By a thievish midge

They had been nearly lost.

Buy braw troggin, &c.

Here is Murray's fragments

O' the ten commands;

Gifted by black Jock

To get them aff his hands.

Buy braw troggin, &c.

Saw ye e'er sic troggin?
If to buy ye're slack,
Hornie's turnin' chapman,—
He'll buy a' the pack.

Buy braw troggin

Frae the banks o' Dee;

Wha wants troggin

Let him come to me.

This third and last ballad refers to the contest between Heron and Stewart: the former was successful on the hustings, but was unseated by a Committee of the Commons, and took the disappointment so much to heart, that he died-some say by his own hands-on his way back to Scotland. It was one of the dreams of his day, in which Burns indulged, that, by some miraculous movement, the Tory counsellors of the king would be dismissed, and the Whigs, with the Prince of Wales at their head, rule and reign in their stead. That Heron aided in strengthening this "devout imagination" is certain but then the laid of Kerroughtree was the victim of the delusion himself-the faith for which a man dies he must feel sincerely. All explanation of names is avoided, for the reasons already assigned. The Editor has been bold-he hopes not too bold. To those who urge himand such have not been wanting to give Burns as he found him make answer in the Poct's own, and hitherto unprinted, words:

be

may

Many verses on which an author would by no means rest his reputation in print, may yet amuse an idle moment in manuscript; and many poems, from the locality of the subject, may be unentertaining or unintelligible to those who are strangers to that locality. Most of, if not all, the following poems, are in one or other of these predicaments; and the author begs, into whose hands they may fall, that they will do him the justice not to publish what he himself thought proper to suppress.-R. B." These remarkable words are on the first page of a manuscript

collection of the poems which Burns wrote in Ellisland: his meaning must not be interpreted too strictly: "Tam o' Shanter," and the " Inscription on Friar's-Carse Hermitage," are among them.

POEM,

ADDRESSED TO MR. MITCHELL, COLLECTOR OF EXCISE, DUMFRIES, 1796.

FRIEND of the Poet, tried and leal,
Wha, wanting thee, might beg or steal;
Alake, alake, the meikle deil

Wi' a' his witches

Are at it, skelpin' jig and reel,

In my poor pouches!

I modestly fu' fain wad hint it,
That one pound one, I sairly want it;
If wi' the hizzie down ye sent it,

It would be kind;

And while my heart wi' life-blood dunted

I'd bear't in mind.

So may the auld year gang out moaning
To see the new come laden, groaning,
Wi' double plenty o'er the loanin

To thee and thine;

Domestic peace and comforts crowning

The hale design,

POSTSCRIPT.

YE'VE heard this while how I've been licket,

And by fell death was nearly nicket;

Grim loon! he got me by the fecket,

And sair me sheuk;

But by guid luck I lap a wicket,

And turn'd a neuk.

But by that health, I've got a share o❜t,
And by that life, I'm promised mair o't,
My hale and weel I'll tak a care o't,

A tentier way:
Then farewell folly, hide and hair o't'
For ance and aye!

In this modest and affecting way Burns reminded his superior officer that he was a poor man suffering from ill health, and that his salary then due would be very acceptable. Collector Mitchell was a kind and generous man, on many occasions; but he was not aware that

and befriended the Poet

“Hungry ruin had him in the wind,”

or that his family were enduring privations such as preyed with double force on the sensitive and feeling heart of Burns.

TO

MISS JESSY LEWARS,

DUMFRIES,

WITH BOOKS WHICH THE BARD PRESENTED HER.

THINE be the volumes, Jessy fair,
And with them take the Poet's prayer;
That fate may in her fairest page,
With every kindliest, best presage,
Of future bliss enrol thy name:
With native worth, and spotless fame,
And wakeful caution still aware
Of ill-but chief, man's felon snare;
All blameless joys on earth we find,
And all the treasures of the mind-
These be thy guardian and reward;
So prays thy faithful friend, The Bard.