SONG. BY GAVIN TURNBULL. O CONDESCEND, dear charming maid, ; A tender swain to love betray'd, While here, all melancholy, I heard of love, and with disdain, But how my state is alter'd! O yield, illustrious beauty, yield, Thy captive do not scorn. Let Let generous pity warm thee, The following address of Turnbull's to the Nightingale, will suit as an English song to the air, There was a lass and she was fair. By the bye, Turnbull has a great many songs in MS which I can command, if you like his manner. Possibly, as he is an old friend of mine, I may be prejudiced in his favour; but I like some of his pieces very much. THE NIGHTINGALE. BY G. TURNBULL. THOU Sweetest minstrel of the grove, And soothe a poor forsaken swain. For tho' the muses deign to aid, Is deaf to her forsaken swain. All All day, with fashion's gaudy sons, When evening shades obscure the sky, And soothe a poor forsaken swain. ... I shall just transcribe another of Turnbull's, which would go charmingly to Lewie Gordon. LAURA. By G. TURNBULL. LET me wander where I will, If If at rosy dawn I chuse, When at night the drowsy god The rest of your other opportunity. letter I shall answer at some No. No. XLVIII. MR. THOMSON to MR. BURNS. 7th Nov. 1793. MY GOOD SIR, AFTER So long a silence, it gave me peculiar pleasure to recognise your well-known hand, for I had begun to be apprehensive that all was not well with you. I am happy to find, however, that your silence did not proceed from that cause, and that you have got among the ballads once more. I have to thank you for your English song to Leiger m' choss, which I think extremely good, although the colouring is warm. Your friend Mr. Turnbull's songs have doubtless considerable merit; and as you have the command of his manuscripts, I hope you may find out some that will answer, as English songs, to the airs yet unprovided. No. |