adapt myself to any thing.

The sentimental school of 1403, Scotland may be considered as still a barbarous nation. The feudal system,' &c. &c. Or there is the comwriting is popular. I should like to try it :mencement descriptive

stream.

"Heavens! they are ringing the dinner bell, and I am as yet only beginning. When, O when! shall I see my monumentum exactum, my kingdom conquered, my crown H. G. B. of glory won?"

1 "

REMARKS ON GAMBLING, WITH SOME ALLUSIONS
TO A DIRTY STORY.

By Lieut.
late of the Royal Irish Dragoons.
YOU'RE right, old boy. Enough of play I've seen in
Wasn't
my time. And deep play, too, never doubt me.
I kept lying as a prisoner at large, for ten long years, in
Paris, and isn't there a Palais Royal there? And wasn't
I at Vienna at the last Congress ? And weren't old
Blucher and our own Duke, God bless him! the devil's
own hands for a tight set-to? And didn't I see there,
and at Aix-la-Chapelle, on my way back, enough of my
old friends of the Palais Royal? Och! and you may
say it, I have seen something of play in my time.

Well, then, you ask me what I think of this hubbaboo that has been kept up about our ears in this dirty little town of yours. Faith and troth, if you had asked me with our legs under the mahogany, I would have told you quietly, that you are much readier with your tongues than your triggers, on this side the water. But you have written me a civil card' about this same, so I suppose I must be after answering you' in a 'quieter fashion; and so, though I have neither the learning of old Daines Barrington, (as, sure, I have not half his ill humour,) nor of my old messmate Napier, (and sure I had not half his devilry, when his friends at Dublin sent him to school, just to keep him out of harm's way,) I'll just be telling you what I think of the matter, and the readier that it's a damned canting set ye are, one and all, and much the better you would be of having a little truth told you any how.

"It was on one of the loveliest evenings of August, an hour before the sun had set, that Rosalie stood on the banks of the Garonne, watching the approach of a gailypennoned little boat, which came slowly on against the She knew that it contained her lover, and that it was freighted, therefore, with her whole store of worldly happiness; for Rosalie was at that bewitching age, when the treasures of the heart pour themselves freely out, and bless the giver no less than the receiver." (An admirable moral reflection, which will immediately gain me the reader's confidence.) The boat at length drew near with its tiny flags glittering in the auburn light' (“ the auburn light,' fine) 'like so many Lilliputian rainbows. It grates upon the white pebbles; it touches the green bank; the sails are furled. Like a young sea-god, the delighted Conrad leaps ashore. Another moment, and they are locked in each other's arms,—in a long and pure embrace. (I might here introduce a quotation either from Petrarch about alma gentile,' or from Rousseau about paisible et douce jouissance.') How can they ever forget that sunset hour upon their own Garonne? Though family feuds have disunited their fathers, their souls are made for each other. May no rude storm break upon the calm of their felicity! Suddenly a horn rings through the neighbouring wood. "It is my brother's! He is returning with his attendants from the hunt. Fly, Conrad; unloose the moorings of your barge, and away! Hark! I hear already the tramp of their horses! See! see! they come!" The moorings were unloosed; and Conrad had împressed a wild and burning kiss upon the lip of Rosalie, when the young St Germaine galloped to the spot, calling upon his followers to second him. ́ ́ He flung himself from his steed, with a dark frown upon his brow, and bared his well-tried weapon. But, with a bound, Conrad leaped on board, and gave his sails to the breeze. He leaped not alone; St Germaine, too, was in the boat. Just then the lagging servants arrived; but the wind and tide had wafted the obedient pinnace from the shore, and they were too › I don't know how it is, but there's a world of differ late to stop its progress. But fierce was the struggle ence betwixt our own little island and the continent. they witnessed as it sailed away. The two young war riors fought like two hyenas At length, however, St put Ireland out of the question, because that is clean and But as to Great Britain, it's all Germaine's sword was seen to fly from his exhausted clear a place by itself. grasp. It gleamed for a moment above the blue Garonne, decent, regular, quiet, sober people you are, with a certain way of living, and obliged to work hard for it. Now, all then fell with a splash into its waters. Bat Conrad wished not for his enemy's life; he pointed to the prow, where over the continent, there is a pretty neat heap of fellows St Germaine threw himself down in gloomy silence. The good, strapping, gentlemanlike fellows who have noAnd the courts conqueror took his station at the helm, and steered away thing but their own wits to live on. with his prisoner towards his paternal domains, but first of the little pocket-pieces of sovereigns, that one meets turned round and waved his heron-plumed cap to the al- with everywhere, are just hot-beds for breeding suchlike, full as they are of small nobles, who have little to live most fainting Rosalie.' "What an exquisite first chapter! Ransack every ciron, and dare not trade decently for fear of losing their culating library in the kingdom, and show me one to rank 3o and of soldiers brave and clever enough, but compare with it. I think I may say, without vanity, that with pay that won't keep them in clean shirts. I am very nearly a universal genius. Can there be any over and above all, there are the licensed gaming tables, thing more different than these two openings, and yet how where every one may play for what he likes, and the matchless are both! There are also other ways of begin- more the merrier, for the government gets a tax from them. Now, look to the upshot. There comes to be a ning. There is the commencement familiar, as for example:- Do you really imagine, Sir John," said Lady regular class who live at or by the gaming table, and it Bevil, ‘have you really the vanity to suppose, that I will shoots so many polypus-like fibres into the great mass of listen for a moment to any thing you can say upon the society, that you cannot tell where the honest set leave subject?'- - Certainly not, replied the meek and peace-off, and the rogues begin. But, if I might venture on able massaio; I never presumed, Lady Bevil, to put my judgment on a level with yours; but I thought that though the coachman did stay three minutes behind his time, you might try him once more before you dismissed him.'' Fie! Sir John! You have no more brains than

a tom cat, and yet you are always meddling with things you don't understand. It is a lucky thing you have got a wife to take care of you, Sir John.-Then there is the commencement circumstantial, as thus: Our hero was the son of a respectable merchant, who resided in the city of Bristol. His grandfather,' &c. &c. Again, there is the commencement historical; for instance, In the year

I

And

stating my own belief, I would say, that it is more difficult to meet on the continent with one who is quite and away the clean potato, but that it's seldom you'll meet with such devil's own pigeons as here at home.

And reason good. Mind me, I'm not speaking of London now-that's a ticklish chapter;-I'm speaking of your own decent little Presbyterian sort of a half capital. Now, in the first place, you're all so good, that any person who plays above twopence a-point long whist, must do it under the rose; so that any one who has any itching for high play, must swallow, in the first place, a double dose of hypocrisy, and that ruins him out and out

clients, whose business accounts are paid once in ten years, who all this while, on the strength of a cash account, and kite bills, are keeping a splendid house, and breeding your children to be leaders of fashion; in striving thus to blind the populace, and trusting to a distant and desperate chance, what are you but a gambler?

You! who launch out into the wide sea of trade without a capital, and trust to making your fortune by a couple of bankruptcies, what are you but a dishonest gambler?

even though he continue what the world calls honest. Next, when a man does take to cheating—and there never was one who played often, and deep, and well, who did not take to it in the long run-he has, in this same town, no class of society into which he can be received as a player. He must continue ostensibly a man of business, or of fortune. His superior skill, even though it go no farther, is carefully veiled. He pursues his schemes in the solitary silence of his own consciousness, without any one upon whom he can look and say, "Thou art like unto me." So you see that there is a difference between a gambler on the continent, and here with us. There, he is a nuisance-a licensed, and a pestilential nuisancecorrupting the inmost core of society: here, he dares not be seen in open day. And well that it is so; for how much healthier the tone of society where vice is ashamed to show its front, and where we may not unfrequently You! who, indulging in dreams of future literary exmeet with those who not only bid defiance to its seduc-ertion, live luxuriously upon borrowed money, are you tions, but who have lived in pure and happy ignorance not a gambler? of its existence, and where the degradation of him who falls is of a tenfold degree! Hypocrisy-consciousness that no one can sympathise with what he really is-withers up all that is human within him. Utter selfishness -the only true and incurable moral cancer-for ever eats at his heart.

You! who opening a banking office without capital of your own, speculate in the funds upon other men's mo ney, though liable every moment to a run, careless of the ruin of the widow and the orphan, whose little peculium has been deposited with you, what are you if not a gambler?

You! who, paid by the country to administer justice, yawn on the bench when kept five minutes longer than usual from your forenoon hand at whist, choose your own name.

Let us hear no more, then, of a paltry matter, to which the gossiping propensities of a provincial town have lent an undue degree of importance; and, above all, let us hear no more vapouring on the part of the press about its independence and daring in giving the circumstance publicity. Independence! there might have been some in refusing to gratify the universal craving for this gossip. "Daring, indeed! much daring there is about the matter."

A THING OF shreds AND PATCHES.

Perhaps you will say, that there are very few such in Scotland. Sorry am I to say, that I think there are a good many. The current of life glides tranquil, and seemingly pure, around us; but seek to fathom its depths, and you will tell another story. I do not speak of this child's play-this Jury Trial, and the piddling play in which it had its origin. That is, indeed, much noise, and little wool. The affair is simply this:-A few gentlemen occasionally play a little deeper than their after reflection can justify, or than is altogether decorous. One of them -God knows why-it does not seem to have been so much from want of money, as from an innate propensity to remove a card from the bottom to the top of the pack-takes undue advantages of his companions. Another, who has lost more than he can well afford, convinced that there has been foul play, demands his money back again, and obtains it. The offender, not contented with being quietly sent to Coventry by his friends, demands that their verdict be publicly and solemnly ratified-nothing original, I mean; for I write a great deal of by the sentence of a court of justice," and has his wish allowed." What is here to wonder at? That young men should be imprudent? or that once in a quarter of a century a knave should be discovered? Had this been all, you might have waited till doomsday for my remarks on the subject. But there is more behind.

The public opinion has on this occasion been freely and fairly announced, that the gambler is a dangerous and detestable character. But this is not enough, unless we settle who the gambler is. Not he, surely, who, for his amusement, indulges occasionally in a game where skill, or chance, or a mixture of both, may assign him the victory. Such games, to a certain extent, are not only innocent, but useful; many of them exercise and sharpen the wits, all of them may teach command of temper. It is, therefore, only in excess that they are an evil. But certainly risking a portion of our fortune greater than prudence warrants, on the chance of gaining what there is no credit in so gaining, if shameful when done by the instrumentality of cards and dice, is not the less shameful when effected by some other instrument. It is the habitual indulgence in the excitement of having a great sum on the hazard, or the endeavour to raise one's self in the scale of wealth by a lucky chance, instead of honest industry, that constitutes gambling, and every one to whom these charges can be brought home is a gambler.

You! who lately began the world without a farthing, who are obliged to make a continual outlay for your

To the Editor of the Edinburgh Literary Journal. SIR, I BEG to inform you, that my Common-Plase Book has been declared, by many of my friends, to be a very uncommon-place book. I am an old literary idler, -a bachelor, and of independent fortune. I do not mean to say, however, that I am a man of talent; thank Heaven! I have no talent. I read every thing, but write nothing

what others have first written for me. I am a wretched composer, but an admirable selector. It was a remark of either an ancient or modern philosopher, (I am not sure which, but I know it was a philosopher's remark,) that there was never a book published out of which something useful might not be gleaned. I entirely coincide with the philosopher, and upon this principle I have acted for the last fifteen years. Put any thing in the shape of a book into my hands, from an encyclopædia down to a cheap tract; from Sir Walter Scott's "Ivanhoe" down to Galt's "Annals of the Parish;" from Lord Byron's "Childe Harold" down to Campbell's "Todric;" from Plato's "Idea of a Perfect Republic" down to Mac Culloch's Lectures on "Political Economy;" and there is not a single volume among the whole from which I shall not be induced to make some extracts. You may call it trifling, if you will, but it is innocent and useful trifling; and I would rather be a virtuoso in thoughts and sentiments, than in butterflies or old coins. Without farther preface, I shall give you a sample of the contents of this Common-Place Book of mine, and flatter myself that your readers may find among them a few passages worthy of remembering, and of transference, perhaps, to the albums kept either by themselves or their fair cousins.

WALLER.-Waller did not marry the Lady Dorothea Sidney, eldest daughter of the Earl of Leicester, whom he courted by all the poetry in which Sackarissa is celebrated a word derived from the Latin appellation of which will convince the reader that the roughness of the previous easier conquest. It has not been discovered that his wife When he had lost all hopes of her, he found an

*Our friend the Lieutenant here begins to write a better style,

part of his communication was somewhat affected.-ED.

sugar.

was won by his poetry. He doubtless praised some whom
he would have been afraid to marry, and perhaps mar-
ried one whom he would have been ashamed to praise.
Many qualities contribute to domestic happiness, upon
which poetry has no colours to bestow; and many airs
and sallies may delight the imagination, which he who
flatters them can never approve. There are charms made
only for distant admiration. No spectacle is nobler than
a blaze. Johnson's Lives of the Poets.
AMITIE. J'ai trois sortes d'amis; les amis qui
m'aiment, les amis à qui je suis indifférent, et les amis
qui me détestent.-Voltaire.

SOPHOCLES.-The ungrateful and impious children of Sophocles summoned him before the judges, on the pretence of lunacy, that they might obtain a decree to take possession of his estate. He made no other defence than by reading the tragedy of " (Edipus at Colonna," which he was then composing. The judges were delighted with the performance, and he carried his cause unanimously. This would be a good subject for a poem.—Rutherford's View of Ancient History, Vol. II.

BREVITAS VITE.—Cum per magna camporum spatia porrigeret exercitum, nec numerum ejus, sed mensuram comprehenderet Persarum rex insolentissimus, lacrimas profudit, quod intra centum annos nemo ex tanta juven.. tute superfuturus esset.-Seneca-De Brev. Vitæ, cap.

16.

STANZAS FOR MUSIC.

I never cast a flower away,

The gift of one who cared for me, A little flower,—a faded flower,But it was done reluctantly.

I never look'd a last adieu

To things familiar, but my heart Shrank with a feeling almost pain,

Even from their lifelessness to part.

I never spoke the word farewell!

But with an utterance faint and broken;
A heart-sick yearning for the time

When it should never more be spoken.
Blackwood's Mag. No. 89.

that, not seeing the overture was in two sharps, the leader of the band actually played in one flat! But the sighs and sobs of the groaning audience, and the noise of the corks drawn from the smelling bottles, prevented the mistake being discovered. One hundred and nine ladies fainted! forty-six went into fits! and ninety-five had strong hysterics! Future ages will scareely credit the truth, when they hear, that fourteen children, five old women, one hundred tailors, and six common-council men, were drowned in the inundation of tears that flowed from the galleries, the slips, and the boxes, into the pit! And what is more melancholy, their bodies have not yet been found! An act of Parliament should certainly be got to prevent her from acting.-Old Irish Paper.

LIBERTY OF THOUGHT.-Philosophy, wisdom, and liberty, support each other; he who will not reason, is a bigot; he who cannot, is a fool; and he who dares not, is a slave.-Preface to Sir William Drummond's Academical Questions.

PROPER CHOICE OF ASSOCIATES.-For a man of high qualities, it is rare to find a meet companion; painful and injurious to want one. Solitude exasperates or deadens the heart, perverts or enervates the faculties; association with inferiors leads to dogmatism in thought, and selfwill even in affections. Rousseau never should have lived in the Val de Montmorenci; it had been good for Warburton that Hurd had not existed; for Johnson never to have known Boswell or Davis.-Life of Schiller.

LINES TO A SPIDER Running across a room.

Thou poisonous rascal! running at this rate,
O'er the perplexing desert of a mat,

Scrambling and scuttling on thy scratchy legs,

Like a scared miser with his money bags;

Thou thief-thou scamp-thou hideous much in little,
Bearing away the plunder of a spittle,—

Caitiff of corners,-doer of dark deeds,—

Mere lump of poison lifted on starved threads,

That, while they run, go shuddering here and there,

As if abhorring what they're forced to bear,

I have thee now;-I have thee here full blown-
Thou lost old wretch, benighted by the noon!
What dost thou think-what dost thou say? Dost see
Providence hanging o'er thee-to wit, me?
Dost fear? Dost shrink with all thine eyes, to view
The shadowy threat of mine avenging shoe?
Now, now it comes; one pang,-and thou wilt lie
Flat as the sole that treads thy gorged impurity.

The Liberal, No. 4.

THE FAMOUS BONONIAN ENIGMA.-Elia Laelia Crispis, nec vir, nec mulier, nec androgyna; nec puella, nec juvenis, nec anus; nec casta, nec meretrix, nec pudica, sed omnia: sublata neque fama, neque ferro, neque veneno, sed omnibus: nec coelo, nec terris, nec aquis, sed ubique jacet. Lucius Agatho Priscius, nec maritus, nec amator, nec necessarius; neque mærens, neque gaudens, neque flens ; hanc nec molem, nec pyramidem, nec sepulchrum, sed omnia, scit et nescit cui posuerit. Of this riddle the following solutions have been suggested among many others; the last appears the best. 1st, Niobe turned into stone. 2d, A Eunuch. 3d, The philosopher's stone. 4th, Lot's Wife. 5th, A lawsuit. 6th, Three different dead bodies. Encyc. Brit.

MRS SIDDONS.-On Saturday, Mrs Siddons, about whom all the world has been talking, made her first appearance here in the all-tearful character of Isabella. From the repeated panegyrics in the impartial London papers, we were taught to expect the sight of a heavenly angel; but how were we supernaturally surprised into the most awful joy at beholding a mortal goddess! The house was crowded with hundreds more than it could hold, with thousands of admiring spectators that went without a sight. This extraordinary phenomenon of tragic excellence! this star of Melpomene! this comet of the stage! this sun of the firmament of the Muses! this moon of blank verse! this queen and princess of tears! this Donellan of the poisoned bowl! this empress of the pistol and dagger! this chaos of Shakspeare! this world of weeping clouds! this Juno of commanding aspects! this Terpsichore of the curtains and scenes! this Proserpine of fire and earthquake! this Katterfelto of wonders! exceeded expectation, went beyond belief, and soared above all the natural powers of description! She was nature itself! She was the very daisy, primrose, tuberose, sweetbriar, furze-blossom, gilliflower, wallflower, cauliflower, auri-speare. cula, and rosemary! In short, she was the banquet of Parnassus! When she came to the scene of parting with her wedding-ring, the very fiddlers in the orchestra, "albeit unused to the melting mood," blubbered, like hungry children for their bread and butter; and when the bell rang for music between the acts, the tears ran from the bassoon-player's eyes in such plentiful showers, that they choked the finger-stops, and, making a spout of the instrument, poured in such torrents on the fiddlers' books,

AN ADVICE. Let not the creaking of shoes, nor the rustling of silks, betray thy poor heart to women.—Shak

A MATRIMONIAL SECRET.-You may ride us

With one soft kiss a thousand furlongs, ere
With spur we heat an acre.-Idem.

WINTER.-I am surprised to see people think it matter of congratulation that winter is going; or, if coming, is not likely to be a severe one. On the contrary, I put up a petition annually, for as much snow, hail, frost, or storm, of one kind or other, as the skies can possibly afford

us.

Italian, German, Greek, Hebrew, Sanscrit, and Malayan tongues. These, however, I reserve for a future opportunity, and am, with great respect, your obedient servant, PERTINAX PRIMROSE.

DIORAMA OF THE CITY OF ROUEN.

We had a private view of this new Diorama on Thursday, which is at once very beautiful, and entirely different from those which have preceded it. It is the fourth that has been exhibited in Edinburgh,-Chartres Cathe

Surely every body is aware of the divine pleasures which attend a winter fireside;-candles at four o'clock, warm hearth-rugs, tea, a fair tea-maker, shutters closed, curtains flowing in ample draperies on the floor, while the wind and rain are raging audibly without,"And at the doors and windows seem to call, As heaven and earth they would together mell; Yet the least entrance find they none at all, Whence sweeter grows our rest, secure in massy hall." All these are items in the description of a winter evening which must surely be familiar to every one born in a high latitude. And it is evident that most of these deli-dral, the Valley of Sarnem, and the Chapel of Holyrood, cacies, like ice cream, require a very low temperature of the atmosphere to produce them; they are fruits which cannot be ripened without weather stormy and inclement. I am not "particular," as people say, whether it be snow or black frost, or wind so strong that you may lean your back against it like a post. I can put up even with rain, provided it rains cats and dogs, but something of the sort I must have, and if I have it not, I think myself in a manner ill used; for why am I called on to pay so heavily for winter in coals and candles, and various privations that will occur even to gentlemen, if I am not to have the article good of its kind? No-a Canadian winter for my money, or a Russian one, where every man is but a co-proprietor with the north wind in the fee-simple of his own ears. Indeed, so great an epicure am I in this matter, that I cannot relish a winter night fully, if it be much past St Thomas's Day, and have degenerated into

disgusting tendencies to vernal appearances. Let it be divided by a thick wall of dark nights from all return of light and sunshine. From the latter weeks of October to Christmas Eve, therefore, is the period during which happiness is in season, which, in my judgment, enters the room with the tea-tray; for tea, though ridiculed by those who are naturally of coarse nerves, or are become so from wine-drinking, and are not susceptible of influence from so refined a stimulant, will always be the favourite beverage of the intellectual; and, for my part, I would have joined Dr Johnson in a bellum internecinum against Jonas Hanway, or any other impious person who should presume to disparage it.-Confessions of an English Opium

Eater.

LASSITUDE.-There are heavy hours when the mind of a man of letters is unhinged; when the intellectual faculties lose all their elasticity, and nothing but the simplest actions are adapted to their enfeebled state. At such hours, it is recorded of the great Mendelsohn, that he would stand at the window and count the tiles of his neighbour's house.-Israeli.

EXPERIENCE.No man ever obtains more from his most zealous endeavours, than a painful conviction of his own defects.-Johnson.

WISE WISHES.-Qui peut tout ce qu'il veut,

Veut plus ce qu'il doit.-Corneille..

AN EGYPTIAN CUSTOM.-The Egyptians had a custome not unmete to bee used at the carowsing banquets; their manner was, in the midst of their feasts, to have brought before them an anatomie of a dead body, dried, that the sight and horror thereof, putting them in minde to what passe themselves should one day come, might containe them in modestie. But, peradventure, things are fallen so far from their right course, that that device will not so well serve their turn, as if the carowsers of these later dayes were perswaded, as Mahomet perswaded his followers, when he forbad them the drinking of wine, that in every grape there dwelt a divell. But when they have taken their cups, it seameth that many of them doe fear neither the divell nor any thing else.-Barclay's Felicitie of Man.

I must now conclude, Mr Editor, although, to prove my learning, I might have given you quotations in the

having successively attracted that attention to which, as beautiful specimens of a new and interesting art, they were so well entitled. Of the three, we believe the Valley of Sarnem was the most successful, though we confess the moonlight view of the Chapel of Holyrood was our favourite.

There appears, however, to have been a feeling on the part of the public that it was scarcely worth while paying to see a pictorial representation of a build. ing which stands at our own doors. This feeling, which was nevertheless founded on error, cannot operate in the slightest degree against the present Diorama. Though we and some others have been in Rouen, it is an entire

ly new scene for the multitude, and is one of the fairest and most picturesque which France affords. The windings of the fine river on which the city stands, with its new stone bridge and ancient bridge of boats, -the romantic appearance of Rouen itself, formerly the capital of Normandy, with its high old houses, venerable cathedrals, and long winding streets, the surrounding scenery, rich and varied in no ordinary degree, with hill and dale, wood and meadow, all conspire to afford noble scope for the genius of the artist, and to present a view which, when once seen, is not likely to be soon forgotten. M. Bouton has also contrived to heighten the interest of the picture by the beautiful effect of shifting light traversing the whole of it, and exhibiting different parts in alternate shade and sunshine as the clouds flit over it. The sky is powerfully painted; and a rainbow, which gradually appears and again disappears, completes the delusion of the whole scene. We should not be at all surprised to learn that the popularity of this exhibition exceeds that of any of a similar nature hitherto presented to us.

ORIGINAL POETRY.

A LOVE SONG..

By the late James Hislop

[In Mr M'Diarmid's "Sketches from Nature" there is an interest. ing Memoir of the late James Hislop. Many of our readers will be glad to see one of his unpublished Poems in the Literary Journal. We shall probably present them, ere long, with a short biographical notice of the Author, with some more of his relics.]

How sweet the dewy bell is spread,

Where Spango's mossy streams are lavin',
The heathery locks o' deepenin' red
Around the mountain brow aye wavin'!
Here, on the sunny mountain side,

Dear lassie, we'll lie down thegither,
Where Nature spreads luve's crimson bed,
Among the bonny bloomin' heather.

Lang hae I wish'd, my lovely maid,

Amang thae fragrant wilds to lead ye;
And now, aneath my tartan plaid,

How blest I lie wi' you aside me!
And art thou happy, dearest, speak?
Wi' me aneath the tartan plaidie,-
Yes; that dear glance, sae saft and meek,
Resigns thee to thy shepherd laddie.