Something in her bosom wrings;
For relief a sigh she brings;

And O, her een, they spak sic things!
Ha, ha, &c.

Duncan was a lad o' grace,

Ha, ha, &c.

Maggie's was a piteous case,
Ha, ha, &c.

Duncan couldna be her death,
Swelling pity smoor'd his wrath;
Now they're crouse and canty baith;
Ha, ha, the wooing o't.

XIV.

TUNE-Rothiemurchus.

CHORUS.

Fairest maid on Devon banks,

Crystal Devon, winding Devon,
Wilt thou lay that frown aside,

And smile as thou were wont to do?

FULL Well thou know'st I love thee dear,
Couldst thou to malice lend an ear!

O, did not love exclaim, " Forbear,
Nor use a faithful lover so?"

Fairest maid, &c.

Then come, thou fairest of the fair!
Those wonted smiles, O, let me share;
And by thy beauteous self I swear,

No love but thine my heart shall know.
Fairest maid, &c.

XV.

WAR SONG.

Scene-a field of battle; time of the day-evening; the wounded and dying of the victorious army are supposed to join in the following song.

FAREWELL, thou fair day, thou green earth, and ye skies,

Now gay with the bright setting sun;

Farewell, loves and friendships, ye dear tender ties, Our race of existence is run!

Thou grim king of terrors, thou life's gloomy foe, Go, frighten the coward and slave;

Go, teach them to tremble, fell tyrant! but know, No terrors hast thou to the brave!

Thou strikest the dull peasant, he sinks in the dark, Nor saves ev'n the wreck of a name;

Thou strikest the young hero-a glorious mark! He falls in the blaze of his fame!

In the field of proud honour-our swords in our hands,

Our king and our country to save

While victory shines on life's last ebbing sands,
O! who would not rest with the brave?

XVI.

TUNE-Nancy's to the Greenwood gane.

FAREWELL, thou stream that winding flows
Around Eliza's dwelling!

O Memory! spare the cruel throes
Within my bosom swelling:
Condemn'd to drag a hopeless chain,
And yet in secret languish,
To feel a fire in every vein,
Nor dare disclose my anguish.

Love's veriest wretch, unseen, unknown,
I fain my griefs would cover :
The bursting sigh, th' unweeting groan,
Betray the hapless lover.

I know thou doom'st me to despair,
Nor wilt nor canst relieve me;
But O, Eliza, hear one prayer,
For pity's sake forgive me!

The music of thy voice I heard,
Nor wist while it enslaved me;
I saw thine eyes, yet nothing fear'd,
Till fears no more had saved me:
Th' unwary sailor thus aghast,
The wheeling torrent viewing,
'Mid circling horrors sinks at last
In overwhelming ruin.

D

XVII.

M'PHERSON'S FAREWELL.

FAREWELL, ye dungeons dark and strong,
The wretch's destinie!
M'Pherson's time will not be long,
On yonder gallows tree

CHORUS.

Sae rantingly, sae wantonly,
Sae dauntingly gaed he;

He play'd a spring and danced it round,
Below the gallows tree.

O, what is death but parting breath ?—
On mony a bloody plain

I've dared his face, and in this place

I scorn him yet again!

Sae rantingly, &c.

Untie these bands from off my hands,
And bring to me my sword;

And there's no man in all Scotland,

But I'll brave him at a word.

Sae rantingly, &c.

I've lived a life of sturt and strife;

I die by treacherie:

It burns my heart I must depart,

And not avenged be.

Sae rantingly, &c.

Now farewell, light, thou sunshine bright,
And all beneath the sky!

May coward shame distain his name,

The wretch that dares not die!

Sae rantingly, &c.

XVIII.

A MOTHER'S LAMENT FOR THE DEATH OF HER SON.

TUNE-Finlayston House.

FATE gave the word, the arrow sped,
And pierced my darling's heart;
And with him all the joys are fled
Life can to me impart.

By cruel hands the sapling drops,
In dust dishonour'd laid:

So fell the pride of all my hopes,
My age's future shade.

The mother linnet in the brake
Bewails her ravish'd young;
So I, for my lost darling's sake,
Lament the live-day long.
Death, oft I've fear'd thy fatal blow!
Now, fond I bare my breast.

O, do thou kindly lay me low
With him I love, at rest!