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GALLA WATER. Braw, braw lads on Yarrow braes,
Yo wander through the blooming heather; But Yarrow braes nor Ettrick shaws,
Can match the lads o' Galla water.
But there is ane, a secret ane,
Aboon them a' I lo'e him better, And I'll be his, and he'll be mine,
The bonny lad o' Galla water. Altho' his daddie was nae laird,
An' tho' I hae nae meikle tocher, Yet rich in kindest, truest love,
We'll tent our flocks bỳ Galla water. It ne'er was wealth, it ne'er was wealth,
That coft contentment, peace, or pleasure; The bands and bliss o' mutual love,
O that's the chiefest warld's treasure,
THE FAITHLESS LOVER.
A faithless lover he;
He seeks another.
No pangs to him betray,
To seek another.
ERE BRIGHT ROSINA.
How peaceful past the joyous day,
Each virgin listen’d to my lay ;
No more the rustic sports can please,
Lost to myself, to mirth, and ease.
Its boughs extended o'er the plain;
The tree, &c.
NOW THE CHILL HOARY BLASTS. Now the chill hoary blasts of the winter are o'er, And the light-hearted warblers chirp mournful no more, But amorous ditties resound thro' the groves, The haunt of their pleasures, the seat of their loves. From the bee on the flower to the bird on the spray All welcome the smile of the genial day; Then why, lovely Jessy, for ever destroy The bloom of thy youth midst the general joy? See the roses of summer, how gladly they shine!Their fate, lovely fair, is an emblem of thine; Their bosoms they spread to the clear azure sky, And exultingly laugh in the passengers eye; But ah ! cruel fortune! ah fond foolish flower! A few summer suns, and thy splendour is o’er; For the dark clouds of heaven are gathering fast, And thy fortune is borne on the wings of the blast.
But a lovelier prospect appears to the view,
AE FOND KISS.
* This song, by Mr. William MʻLAREN, Paisley, author of the valuable sketch of the life of TANNAHILL, from which we have made such copious extracts in our first volume, we judge not prove unacceptable to the lovers of true poetry. It abounds with beautiful and original allusions to natural objects,which are never associated in our minds without feelings of interest and • leasure. It is certainly worthy of the friend of TANNAHILL.
I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy,
THE SOLDIER'S GRAVE. “ DEAR land of my birth, of my friends, of my love!
Shall I never again climb thy mountains?
To listen the dash of thy fountains?
That darkens 'mid warfare and danger?
Must fleet on the gale of the stranger!
Of childhood the once-happy dwelling;
For death at my bosom is knelling;
To mark where a freeman is sleeping;
'Twas a soldier who spoke-but his voice now is gone,
And lowly the hero is lying; No sound meets the ear, save the crocodile's moan,
Or the breeze through the palm-tree sighing.
By the wilderness heavily pacing,
And his monument ne'er know defacing.
NOW SPRING AGAIN.
TUNE-" The boatie rows."
'Mang Bernard's bow'rs is seen;
True emblem o' my Jean.
An' storms nae mair do blaw,
When love is far awa.
How swift the langest night flees by
When twa fond lovers meet,
Together mingle sweet!
When forc'd at duty's ca';
Whase love is far awa.
The moon shines clearer i' the lift,
The breeze mair gentle sighs,
If warm’d by beauty's eyes.