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ON WEE JOHNIE.

Hic jacet wee Johnie.

WHоE'ER thou art, O reader, know,

That death has murder'd Johnie!
And here his body lies fu' low—
For saul he ne'er had onie!

ON JY B—Y, WRITER IN DUMFRIES.

HERE lies J- -y B

honest man!

Cheat him, Devil, if you can.

ON A PERSON NICKNAMED THE MARQUIS,

Who desired Burns to write one on him.

HERE lies a mock Marquis, whose titles were shamm'd, If ever he rises it will be to be d-d.

ON A SCHOOLMASTER IN CLEISH PARISH,
FIFESHIRE.

HERE lie Willie M-hie's banes:

O Satan, when ye tak him,

Gie him the schulin" of your weans;2
For clever Deils he 'll mak 'em!

FOR MR. GABRIEL RICHARDSON,

Brewer, Dumfries; (but who, much to the satisfaction of his friends, has not yet needed one, 1819.

HERE Brewer Gabriel's fire's extinct,
And empty all his barrels:

He's blest-if, as he brew'd, he drink
In upright honest morals.

Educating.-2 Children.

ON WALTER S

SIO a reptile was Wat,

Sic a miscreant slave,

That the worms e'en d-d him
When laid in his grave.

In his flesh there's a famine,
A starved reptile cries;
And his heart is rank poison,
Another replies.

ON A LAP-DOG NAMED ECHO.

IN wood and wild, ye warbling throng, Your heavy loss deplore;

Now half-extinct your powers of song, Sweet Echo is no more.

Ye jarring, screeching things around,
Scream your discordant joys;
Now half your din of tuneless sound
With Echo silent lies.

SONGS AND BALLADS.

BANNOCKBURN.

ROBERT BRUCE'S ADDRESS TO HIS ARMY.

'I am delighted," says Burns to Mr. Thomson, "with many little melodies which the learned musician despises as silly and insipid. I do not know whether the old air "Hey tuttie tattie," may rank among this number; but well I know that, with Frazer's hautboy, it has filled my eyes with tears. There is a tradition, which I have met with in many places of Scotland, that it was Robert Bruce's march at the battle of Bannockburn. This thought, in my solitary wanderings, warmed me to a pitch of enthusiasm on the theme of liberty and independence, which I threw into a kind of Scottish ode, fitted to the air, that one might suppose to be the gallant royal Scot's address to his heroic followers on that eventful morning."

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Now's the day, and now 's the hour;
See the front o' battle lower;
See approach proud Edward's power-
Chains and slaverie!

Wha will be a traitor knave?
Wha can fill a coward's grave?
Wha sae base as be a slave?
Let him turn and flee!

Wha for Scotland's king and law
Freedom's sword will strongly draw,
Free-man stand, or free-man fa'?
Let him follow me!

By oppression's woes and pains!
By your sons in servile chains!
We will drain our dearest veins,
But they shall be free!

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Lay the proud usurpers low!
Tyrants fall in every foe!
Liberty's in every blow!
Let us do, or die!1

THE SAME.

As altered, at the suggestion of Mr. Thomson, to suit the air of "Lewie Gordon."

SCOTS, wha hae wi' Wallace bled;
Scots, wham Bruce has aften led!
Welcome to your gory bed,

Or to glorious victorie.

Now's the day, and now 's the hour;
See the front o' battle lower;
See approach proud Edward's power-
Edward! chains and slaverie!

Wha will be a traitor knave?
Wha can fill a coward's grave?

Wha sae base as be a slave?

Traitor! coward! turn and flee!

Wha for Scotland's king and law
Freedom's sword will strongly draw,
Free-man stand, or free-man fa'?
Caledonian! on wi' me!

By oppression's woes and pains!
By your sons in servile chains!
We will drain our dearest veins,
But they shall be-shall be free!

Lay the proud usurpers low!
Tyrants fall in every foe!
Liberty's in every blow!

Forward! let us do, or die!

This verse is chiefly borrowed from Blind Harry's Wallace:

"A false usurper sinks in every foe,

And Liberty returns with every blow."

AULD LANG SYNE.

Burns gave this song to the public as a production of the "olden time;" but it was afterwards discovered to be his own.

"Auld Lang Syne" owes all its attractions, if it owes not its origin, to the muse of Burns. So exquisitely has the poet eked out the old with the new, that it would puzzle a very profound antiquary to separate the ancient from the modern.

SHOULD auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to min'!
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And days o' lang syne?

For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,

We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

We twa hae run about the braes,
And pu'd the gowans1 fine;

But we've wander'd mony a weary foot,
Sin' auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne, &c.

We twa hae paidl't' i' the burn,3
Frae mornin' sun till dine;

But seas between us braid hae roar'd,

Sin' auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne, &c.

And here's a hand, my trusty fier,*
And gie's a haud o' thine;

And we'll tak a right guid-willie waught,*
For auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne, &c.

And surely ye'll be your pint-stowp,
As sure as I'll be mine;

And we'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,

For auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne, &c.

1 Wild daisies.-2 To wade or walk in the water.-3 Rivulet.-4 Friend.

• Liberal draught.

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