Not the poet, in the moment THE EWE-BUGHTS MARION. WILL ye gae to the ewe-bughts, Marion, And wear in the sheep wi' me? The sun shines sweet, my Marion, But nae hauf so sweet as thee. My Marion's a bonny lass, The blythe blink's aye in her ee; And fain wad I marry my 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. I've nine milk ewes, my Marion, And yese get a green-sey apron, I'm young and stout, my Marion; Nane dances like me on the green; And gin ye forsake me, Marion, Sae put on your pearlings, Marion, And sae soon's my chin has nae hair on, SPEAK ON, SPEAK THUS. TUNE" Woes my heart that we should sunder.” A lady rich in beauty's blossom, To steal thee from thy Peggy's bosom. No more the shepherd, who excell'd The rest, whose wit made them to wonder, Shall now his Peggy's praises tell; Ah! I can die, but never sunder. Ye meadows where we often stray'd, Ye banks where we were wont to wander, Sweet-scented rocks round which we played, You'll lose your sweets when we're asunder. Again, ah! shall I never creep Around the knowe, with silent duty, Kindly to watch thee, while asleep, And wonder at thy manly beauty. Hear, Heaven, while solemnly I vow, Tho' thou shouldst prove a wand'ring lover, Thro' life to thee I shall prove true, Nor be a wife to any other. STRATHALLAN'S LAMENT. In the cause of right engaged, KELVIN BRAES. TUNE-" Logan Braes.” AFT hae I stray'd the woods amang, "Strathallan, it is presumed, was one of the followers of the young Chevalier; and is supposed to be lying concealed cave of the Highlands, after the battle of Culloden." some Tho' fortune's smiles upon me play, Wi' what I've left on Kelvin Braes. O had I Mary in my arms, Could I again but ca' her mine; NOW EV'NING DESCENDING. TUNE-" Nathaniel Gow's lament." Now ev'ning descending has darken'd the hill, Departed twin-spirit! O G*th ** e belov'd, * * Instead of O G*th**e belov'd, Friend dearly belov❜d, may be substituted in singing. The gathering gloom now conceals from my sight The scenes of past joy by the course of the Cree; But when shall the thoughts of departed delight, Retentive remembrance, be darken'd with thee! * * These beautiful stanzas on the death of a dear school-fellow, were written by a young gentleman, who died, a few months ago, of a consumption, aged 20 years, and who is also the author of Evening sheds her gems of dew. A copy of that song, with additions and alterations by the author of The days of auld langsyne, will be found in page 188 of this work. It will be seen by the following copy of the original, (which a friend of the author's has kindly furnished the Editor with, and which he conceives it but justice to departed genius to insert) that the alterations consist in giving the verses a Scottish dress, changing the name of the river, and altering a few of the words, some of them for the better, others, we think, unhappily. The words for which others were substituted in the copy formerly given, are here marked in Italics. EV'NING SHEDS HER GEMS OF DEW. Ev'ning sheds her gems of dew, With me must ever tarry, O! O'er the scenes of past delight The lov'd resorts of Mary, O! Above that vault so starry, O! O! that brief the time may be Till my soul, from anguish free, Raptur'd rise to heav'n, and thee, My dear departed Mary, O! The Mary the author laments in these lines died about six months before himself. The Cree, a rapid romantic stream in Upper Galloway. |