Scot

The Caledonian Hunt is so charming, that it would make any subject in a song go down; but pathos is certainly its native tongue. tish Bacchanalians we certainly want, though the few we have are excellent. For instance, Todlin hame, is, for wit and humour, an unparalleled composition; and Andrew and his cutty gun, is the work of a master. By the way, are you not quite vexed to think that those men of genius, for such they certainly were, who composed our fine Scottish lyrics, should be unknown? It has given me many a heart-ache. Apropos to Bacchanalian songs in Scottish; I composed one yesterday, for an air I like much -Lumps o' Pudding.

Contented wi' little, and cantie wi' mair,
Whene'er I forgather wi' sorrow and care,
I gie them a skelp, as they're creepin alang,
Wi' a cog o' gude swats, and an auld Scottish sang.

I whyles claw the elbow o' troublesome thought; But man is a soger, and life is a faught:

My mirth and gude humour are coin in my pouch, And my Freedom's my lairdship nae monarch dare touch.

my

A towmond o' trouble, should that be
A night o' gude fellowship sowthers it a':

fa',

When

When at the blythe end o' our journey at last, Wha the deil ever thinks o' the road he has past?

Blind chance, let her snapper and stoyte on her

way;

Be't to me, be't frae me, e'en let the jade gae: Come ease, or come travail; come pleasure, or pain; My warst word is " Welcome and welcome again!"

If you do not relish this air, I will send it to Johnson.

Since yesterday's penmanship, I have framed. a couple of English stanzas, by way of an English song to Roy's Wife. You will allow me that in this instance, my English corresponds in sentiment with the Scottish.

Canst thou leave me thus, my Katy ?

Tune-" Roy's WIFE."

CHORUS.

Canst thou leave me thus, my Katy?
Canst thou leave me thus, my Katy?
Well thou know'st my aching heart,
And canst thou leave me thus for pity?

Is

Is this thy plighted, fond regard,
Thus cruelly to part, my Katy?
Is this thy faithful swain's reward—
An aching, broken heart, my Katy?
Canst thou, &c.

Farewell! and ne'er such sorrows tear
That fickle heart of thine, my Katy!
Thou may'st find those will love thee dear-
But not a love like mine, my Katy.
Canst thou, c.*

Well!

*To this address in the character of a forsaken lover, a reply was found on the part of the lady, among the MSS of our bard, evidently in a female hand-writing; which is doubtless that referred to in p. 118 of this volume. The temptation to give it to the public is irresistible; and if, in so doing, offence should be given to the fair authoress, the beauty of her verses must plead our excuse.

Tune-" Roy's WIFE."

CHORUS.

Stay my Willie-yet believe me,

Stay my Willie-yet believe me,

For, ah! thou know'st na' every pang

Wad wring my bosom should'st thou leave me.

Well! I think this, to be done in two or three turns across my room, and with two or three pinches of Irish Blackguard, is not so far amiss. You see I am determined to have my quantum of applause from somebody.

Tell

Tell me that thou yet art true,

And a' my wrongs shall be forgiven,
And when this heart proves fause to thee,
Yon sun shall cease its course in heaven.

Stay my Willie, &c.

But to think I was betrayed,

That falsehood e'er our loves should sunder!

To take the flow'ret to my breast,

And find the guilefu' serpent under.
Stay my Willie, &c.

Could I hope thou'dst ne'er deceive,
Celestial pleasures might I choose 'em,

I'd slight, nor seek in other spheres

That heaven I'd find within thy bosom.
Stay my Willie, &c.

It may amuse the reader to be told, that on this occasion the gentleman and the lady have exchanged the dialects of their respective countries. The Scottish bard makes his address in pure English: the reply on the part of the lady, in the Scottish dialect, is, if we mistake not, by a young and beautiful Englishwoman. E.

Tell my friend Allan (for I am sure that we only want the trifling circumstance of being known to one another, to be the best friends on earth) that I much suspect he has, in his plates, mistaken the figure of the stock and horn. I have, at last, gotten one; but it is a very rude instrument. It is composed of three parts; the stock, which is the hinder thigh-bone of a sheep, such as you see in a mutton ham; the horn, which is a common Highland cow's horn, cut off at the smaller end, until the aperture be large enough to admit the stock to be pushed up through the horn, until it be held by the thicker end of the thigh-bone; and lastly, an oaten reed exactly cut and notched like that which you see every shepherd-boy have, when the corn-stems are green and full-grown. The reed is not made fast in the bone, but is held by the lips, and plays loose in the smaller end of the stock; while the stock, with the horn hanging on its larger end, is held by the hands in playing. The stock has six or seven ventiges on the upper side, and one back-ventige, like the common flute. This of mine was made by a man from the braes of Athole, and is exactly what the shepherds wont to use in that country.

However, either it is not quite properly bored in the holes, or else we have not the art of blowing it rightly; for we can make little of it. If

VOL. IV.

P

Mr.