Now farewell, light, thou sunshine bright, May coward shame distain his name, HOW LANG AND DREARY IS THE NIGHT. "How lang and dreary is the night.' I met with some such words," says Burns, "in a collection of songs somewhere, which I have altered and enlarged, and made to suit my favorite air, 'Cauld kail in Aberdeen.'" TUNE-Cauld kail in Aberdeen. How lang and dreary is the night, How slow ye move, ye heavy hours! BONNIE PEG. First published in the Edinburgh Magazine for 1818. As I came in by our gate end, As day was waxin' weary, Oh wha came tripping down the street, 1 Frightful.-2 Peeped, passed quickly. Her air sae sweet, and shape complete, Wi' linkéd hands, we took the sands And, oh! that hour and broomy bower, CONTENTED WI' LITTLE. Burns has written nothing of the kind better than the following happy and most excellent song. "The old proverbial lore," says Allan Cunningham, "lends wisdom to the verse, the love of freedom is delicately expressed and vindicated, the sorrows of life are softened by song, and drink seems only to flow to set the tongue of the muse a-moving." TUNE-Lumps o' Pudding. CONTENTED Wi' little, and cantie' wi' mair, 2 I whyles claw the elbow o' troublesome thought; touch. A towmond' o' trouble, should that be my fa'.8 Blind Chance, let her snapper1 and stoyte" on her way; Be 't to me, be 't frae me, e'en let the jad gae: Come ease, or come travail; come pleasure or pain, My warst word is, "Welcome, and welcome again!” 1 Cheerful.-2 Slap, a smart stroke.-3 Wooden dish.—4 Ale.—5 Scratch.→ Fight. Twelvemonth.-8 Fate.-9 Cements.-10 Stumble.-11 Stagger. 38 WANDERING WILLIE. Perhaps in this song Burns has not much improved upon the old "Here awa, there awa, wandering Willie." HERE awa, there awa, wandering Willie, Tell me thou bring'st me my Willie the same. Winter winds blew loud and cauld at our parting: Fears for my Willie brought tears in my ee; Welcome now simmer, and welcome my Willie, The simmer to nature, my Willie to me. Rest, ye wild storms, in the cave of your slumbers, How your dread howling a lover alarms! Wauken, ye breezes, row' gently, ye billows, And waft my dear laddie ance mair to my arms. But oh, if he's faithless, and minds na his Nannie, Flow still between us, thou wide-roaring main; May I never see it, may I never trow it, But, dying, believe that my Willie's my ain! OPEN THE DOOR TO ME, O! Written to the old air of Lord Gregory; the second line was originally, 'I love it may na be, O !" Он, open the door, some pity to show, Oh, open the door to me, O! Tho' thou hast been false, I'll ever prove true, Oh, open the door to me, O! Cauld is the blast upon my pale cheek, But caulder thy love for me, O! The frost that freezes the life at my heart, The wan moon is setting behind the white wave, False friends, false love, farewell! for mair 1 Hold away home.-2 Roll. She has open'd the door, she has open'd it wide, "My true love!" she cried, and sank down by his side, Never to rise again, O! MY NANNIE'S AWA. TUNE-There'll never be peace till Jamie comes home. The air to which this pretty pastoral song is united, was a favorite of Burns's. Now in her green mantle blythe nature arrays, 3 Come, autumn, sae pensive, in yellow and gray, MEG O' THE MILL. TUNE-O bonnie lass, will ye lie in a barrack ? This song was originally written to a fine old air, called Jackie Hume's Lament, but altered to suit the present tune. There is another and an older Meg o' the Mill, which begins "Oh ken ye what Meg o' the Mill has gotten? Oh ken ye what Meg o' the Mill has gotten? A braw new gown, an' the tail o' it rotten, Oн ken ye what Meg o' the Mill has gotten? Every small wood.-2 Lark.-3 Thrush.-4 Blockhead.-5 Great quantity of silver. The miller was strappin', the miller was ruddy; The miller he hecht' her a heart leal and loving; Oh wae on the siller, it is sae prevailin'! THE BANKS OF THE DEVON. These verses were composed on Miss Hamilton,6 sister to Gavin How pleasant the banks of the clear-winding Devon, fair; But the bonniest flower on the banks of the Devon With chill hoary wing, as ye usher the dawn! And England triumphant display her proud rose; A fairer than either adorns the green valleys, Where Devon, sweet Devon, meandering flows. 1 Deserving the gallows.-2 Bleared dwarf-3 Offered.-4 Farm.—5 Marriage portion. ost. To this lady Burns addressed several letters, which are, unfortunately, |