WHEN I UPON THY BOSOM LEAN. Tune-SCOTS RECLUSE. THIS song was the work of a very worthy, facetious old fellow, John Lapraik, late of Dalfram, near Muirkirk; which little property he was obliged to sell in consequence of some connexion as security for some persons concerned in that villainous bubble, THE AYR BANK. He has often told me that he composed this song one day when his wife had been fretting o'er their misfortunes.* When I upon thy bosom lean, And fondly clasp thee a' my ain, I glory in the sacred ties That made us ane, wha ance were twain: *This is the very song "that some kind husband had addrest to some sweet wife,” alluded to with such exquisite delicacy in Burns's Epistle to J. Lapraik. "There was ae sang amang the rest, To some sweet wife: It thrill'd the heart-strings thro' the breast, A mutual flame inspires us baith, I ken thy wish is me to please; Thy bosom still shall be my hame. I'll lay me there, and take my rest, And beg her not to drap a tear : United still her heart and mine; They're like the woodbine round the tree, That's twin'd till death shall them disjoin. MY HARRY WAS A GALLANT GAY.. Tune-HIGHLANDER'S LAMENT. THE oldest title I ever heard to this air was, The Highland Watch's Farewel to Ireland. The chorus I picked up from an old woman in Dunblane; the rest of the song is mine. My Harry was a gallant gay, Fu' stately strade he on the plain; O for him back again, I wad gie a Knockhaspie's land, When a' the lave gae to their bed, O were some villains hangit high, Then I might see the joyfu' sight, BEWARE O' BONIE ANN. 1 I COMPOSED this song out of compliment to Miss Ann Masterton, the daughter of my friend, Allan Masterton, the author of the air of Strathallan's Lament, and two or three others in this work. Ye gallants bright I red ye right, Her comely face sae fu' o' grace, Her een sae bright, like stars by night, Her skin is like the swan; Sae jimply lac'd her genty waist, Youth, grace, and love, attendant move, In a' their charms, and conquering arms, The captive bands may chain the hands, THE HIGHLAND CHARACTER. THIS tune was the composition of Gen. Reid, and called by him The Highland, or 42d Regiment's March. The words are by Sir Harry Erskine. In the garb of old Gaul, wi' the fire of old Rome, That like our ancestors of old, we stand by We'll bravely fight like heroes bold, for honour And defy the French, with all their art, to alter our laws. |