licacies, and made it at once more chaste and more dull. GO TO THE EWE-BUGHTS, MARION. I am not sure if this old and charming air be of the South, as is commonly said, or of the North of Scotland.-There is a song apparently as antient as Ewe-bughts, Marion, which sings to the same tune, and is evidently of the North.-It begins thus: The Lord o'Gordon had three dochters, They wad na stay at bonie Castle Gordon, Will ye go to the ew-bughts, Marion, But nae haff sae sweet as thee. O Marion's a bonny lass, And the blyth blinks in her e'e; And fain wad I marry Marion, Gin Marion wad marry me. There's gowd in your garters, Marion, And silk on your white hause-bane; Fu' fain wad I kiss my Marion, At e'en when I come hame. There's braw lads in Earnslaw, Marion, I've nine milk-ews, my Marion, And ye's get a green sey apron, And waistcoat of the London brown, And wow! but ye will be vap'ring, Whene'er ye gang to the town. I'm young and stout, my Marion; Sae put on your pearlins, Marion, And soon as my chin has nae hair on, LEWIS GORDON.† THIS air is a proof how one of our Scots tunes comes to be composed out of another. I have one of the earliest copies of the song, and it has prefixed, Tune of Tarry Woo.— Of which tune, a different set has insensibly varied into a different air.-To a Scots critic, the pathos of the line, "Tho' his back be at the wa'," -must be very striking.-It needs not a Jacobite prejudice to be affected with this song. The sup This is marked in the Tea Table Miscellany as an old song with additions.-Ed. + "Lord Lewis Gordon, younger brother to the then Duke of Gordon, commanded a detachment for the Chevalier, and acquitted himself with great gallantry and judgment. He died in 1754," posed author of " Lewis Gordon" was a Mr. Geddes, priest, at Shenval, in the Ainzie. Oh! send Lewie Gordon hame, Here's to him that's far awa! Oh! to see his tartan-trews, Bonnet blue, and laigh-heel'd shoes; Philabeg aboon his knee; That's the lad that I'll gang wi'! Oh hon! &c. The princely youth that I do mean, Is fitted for to be a king: On his breast he wears a star; You'd tak him for the God of War. Oh hon! &c. Oh to see this Princely One, Seated on a royal throne ! OH ONO CHRIO.* Dr. Blacklock informed me that this song was composed on the infamous massacre of Glencoe. Oh! was not I a weary wight! Oh! ono chri, oh! ono chri Maid, wife, and widow, in one night! O! when most I thought him free from harms. They broke my bower, and slew my knight. With ae lock of his jet black hair, Nae sly-tongued youth, or flatt'ring swain, Thine still, dear youth, that heart shall be, (The chorus repeated at the end of each line.) I'LL NEVER LEAVE THEE. THIS is another of Crawford's songs, but I do not think in his happiest manner.-What an ab * A corruption of O hone a rie' signifying-Alas for the prince, or chief. |