They've lost some gallant gentlemen,
Amang the Highland clans, man;
I fear my lord Panmure is slain,
Or fallen in whiggish hands, man:
Now wad ye sing this double fight,
Some fell for wrang and some for right;
But mony bade the world guid-night;
Then ye may tell, how pell and mell,
By red claymores,' and muskets' knell,
Wi' dying yell, the tories fell,

And whigs to hell did flee, man.

OH WERT THOU IN THE CAULD BLAST.

This song was found among the manuscripts of Burns, after his
death, entitled "An Address to a Lady."

TUNE-The lass of Livingstone.

On wert thou in the cauld blast,
On yonder lea, on yonder lea;
My plaidie' to the angry airt,3

I'd shelter thee, I'd shelter thee:
Or did misfortune's bitter storms
Around thee blaw, around thee blaw,
Thy bield' should be my bosom,
To share it a', to share it a'.

Or were I in the wildest waste,

Sae black and bare, sae black and bare,
The desert were a paradise,

If thou wert there, if thou wert there.
Or were I monarch o' the globe,

Wi' thee to reign, wi' thee to reign;

The brightest jewel in my crown,

Wad be my queen, wad be my queen.

1 A broadsword.-2 Cloak.-3 The quarter from which the wind or weather comes.-4 Shelter.

OH WHA IS SHE THAT LO'ES ME.

This song was also found among the manuscripts of the Poet, after his death. He was very fond of the air "Morag," and wrote other songs to it.

TUNE-Morag.

Oн wha is she that lo'es me,
And has my heart a keeping?
Oh sweet is she that lo'es me,
As dews o' simmer weeping,
In tears the rose-buds steeping.
Oh that's the lassie o' my heart,
My lassie ever dearer;
Oh that's the queen o' woman-kind,
And ne'er a ane to peer her.

If thou shalt meet a lassie

In grace and beauty charming,
That e'en thy chosen lassie,

Erewhile thy breast sae warming,
Had ne'er sic powers alarming;
Oh that's, &c.

If thou hadst heard her talking,
And thy attentions plighted,
That ilka body talking

But her by thee is slighted;
And thou art all delighted;
Oh that's, &c.

If thou hast met this fair one;

When frae her thou hast parted,

If every other fair one

But her thou hast deserted,
And thou art broken-hearted;
Oh that's, &c.

ADDRESS TO GENERAL DUMOURIER.

First published in the "Reliques."

(A PARODY ON ROBIN ADAIR.")

YOU'RE Welcome to despots, Dumourier;
You're welcome to despots, Dumourier.—

How does Dampiere do?

Aye, and Bournonville too?

Why did they not come along with you, Dumourier?

I will fight France with you, Dumourier,—
I will fight France, with you, Dumourier:-
I will fight France with you,

I will take my chance with you;

By my soul I'll dance a dance with you, Dumourier..

Then let us fight about, Dumourier;

Then let us fight about, Dumourier;

Then let us fight about,

Till freedom's spark is out,

Then we'll be d-mn'd no doubt-Dumourier.

OH ONCE I LOVED A BONNIE LASS.

This was our Poet's first attempt.

TUNE-I am a man unmarried.

Он once I loved a bonnie lass,

Ay, and I love her still,

And whilst that honor warms my breast,

I'll love my handsome Nell.

Fal lal de ral, &c.

As bonnie lasses I hae seen,
And mony' full as braw,'
But for a modest gracefu' mien,
The like I never saw.

A bonnie lass, I will confess,

Is pleasant to the ee,

But without some better qualities

She's no a lass for me.

But Nelly's looks are blythe and sweet,

And what is best of a',

Her reputation is complete,
And fair without a flaw.

1 Many.-2 Fine.

She dresses ay sae clean and neat,
Both decent and genteel:

And then there's something in her gait
Gars' ony dress look weel.

A gaudy dress and gentle air
May slightly touch the heart,
But it's innocence and modesty
That polishes the dart:

'Tis this in Nelly pleases me,
'Tis this enchants my soul;
For absolutely in my breast
She reigns without control.

Fal lal de ral, &c.

I DREAM'D I LAY WHERE FLOWERS WERE
SPRINGING.

"These two stanzas I composed when I was seventeen,2 and are among the oldest of my printed pieces."-Burns's Reliques.

I DREAM'D I lay where flowers were springing,
Gayly in the sunny beam;

Listening to the wild birds singing,

By a falling, crystal stream:

Straight the sky grew black and daring;

Thro' the woods the whirlwinds rave;

Trees with agéd arms were warring,
O'er the swelling, drumlie3 wave.

Such was my life's deceitful morning,
Such the pleasures I enjoy'd;

But lang or noon, loud tempest storming,
A' my flowery bliss destroy'd.

Tho' fickle fortune has deceived me,

(She promised fair, and perform'd but ill ;)

Of mony a joy and hope bereaved me,
I bear a heart shall support me still.

1 Makes.

2 It is perhaps worthy of remark, that in this song of seventeen, there is, scrictly speaking, only one Scotch word-the word drumlie-a circumstance that promised little for our author's future eminence as a Scottish Poet. 3 Muddy.-4 Long before noon.

THERE'S A YOUTH IN THIS CITY.

This air is claimed by Neil Gow, who calls it his lament for his brother.
The first half-stanza of the song is old.

THERE's a youth in this city, it were a great pity,
That he from our lasses should wander awa;
For he 's bonnie and braw, weel-favor'd with a',
And his hair has a natural buckle and a'.
His coat is the hue of his bonnet sae blue;

His fecket' is white as the new-driven scaw;
His hose they are blae, and his shoon2 like the slae,
And his clear siller buckles they dazzle us a'.
His coat is the hue, &c.

For beauty and fortune the laddie 's been courtin';
Weel featur'd, weel tocher'd, weel mounted and braw
But chiefly the siller, that gars him gang till her;'
The pennie's the jewel that beautifies a'.-

There's Meg wi' the mailen, that fain wad a haen him,"
And Susy, whase daddy was Laird o' the ha';
There's lang-tocher'd Nancy' maist fetters his fancy,
-But the laddie's dear sel he lo'es dearest of a'.

MY HEART'S IN THE HIGHLANDS.

The first half-stanza of this song is old.

My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here;
My heart's in the Highlands a chasing the deer;
Chasing the wild deer, and following the roe,
My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go.
Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North,
The birthplace of valor, the country of worth;
Wherever I wander, wherever I rove,

The hills of the Highlands forever I love.

Farewell to the mountains high cover'd with snow;
Farewell to the straths and green valleys below;

1 An under-waistcoat with sleeves.-2 Shoes.-9 Causes him to go to her -4 Farm.—5 Would have had him.- Nancy with a great marriage portion