LOVELY DAVIES. TUNE Miss Muir. Burns had become acquainted, probably at Friars' Carse, with a beautiful young Englishwoman, a relation of the Riddels, and also connected by the marriage of a sister with the noble family of Kenmure in the neighboring stewartry. Deborah Davies — for this was her name was of small stature, but exquisitely handsome, and she possessed more than an average share of mental graces. With his usual sensibility to female beauty, but especially that of a refined and educated woman, Burns became an idolater of Miss Davies, and the feelings which possessed him soon led to an effusion of both prose and verse. She was the subject of the two following songs. O HOW shall I, unskilfu', try thus writes 1"One day, while Burns was at Moffat' Allan Cunningham "the charming, lovely Davies rode past, accompanied by a lady tall and portly: on a friend asking the poet, why God made one lady so large, and Miss Davies so little, he replied in the words of the epigram: "Ask why God made the gem so small, And why so huge the granite? Because God meant mankind should set The tunefu' powers, in happy hours, Even they maun dare an effort mair Each eye it cheers, when she appears, When past the shower, and every flower As the wretch looks o'er Siberia's shore, Sae droops our heart when we maun part Her smile's a gift, frae 'boon the lift, above-sky A sceptered hand, a king's command, The man in arms 'gainst female charms, He hugs his chain, and owns the reign My Muse to dream of such a theme, The eagle's gaze alone surveys I wad in vain essay the strain, The deed too daring brave is; THE BONNY WEE THING. TUNE- Bonny wee Thing. BONNY wee thing, cannie wee thing, “nice” I wad wear thee in my bosom, In that bonny face o' thine; lose And my heart it stounds wi' anguish, aches Lest my wee thing be na mine. Wit and grace, and love and beauty, Goddess o' this soul o' mine! I wad wear thee in my bosom, TO MR. MAXWELL, OF TERRAUGHTY, ON HIS BIRTHDAY. The person addressed in these verses -John Maxwell, Esq., of Terraughty and Munches ing public man in the county of Dumfries. was a lead HEALTH to the Maxwells' veteran chief! This natal morn; I see thy life is stuff o' prief, Scarce quite half-worn. This day thou metes threescore eleven, And I can tell that bounteous Heaven (The second-sight, ye ken, is given To ilka Poet) On thee a tack o' seven-times-seven Will yet bestow it. proof lease If envious buckies view wi' sorrow crabbed fellows Thy lengthened days on this blest morrow, May Desolation's lang-teethed harrow, Nine miles an hour, Rake them like Sodom and Gomorrah, In brunstane stoure! brimstone dust But for thy friends, and they are monie, Wi' mornings blithe, and e'enings funny, loving old boy molest Fareweel, auld birkie! Lord be near ye, If niest my heart I dinna wear ye, While BURNS they ca' me! next SONG OF DEATH. AIR- Oran an Aoig. Scene - A Field of Battle. -Time of the day, Evening. The wounded and dying of the victorious army are supposed to join in the following song. FAREWELL, thou fair day, thou green earth, and ye skies, Now gay with the bright setting sun; |