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Good sir, for your courtesie, Coming through Aberdeen, then, For the luve ye bear to me,

Buy me a pair of shoon, then.— Clout the auld, the new are dear, Janet, Janet;

Ae pair may gain ye ha'f a year,
My Jo, Janet.

But what if dancing on the green,
And skipping like a maukin.*
If they should see my clouted shoon,
Of me they will be taukin'.
Dance ay laigh, and late at e'en,
Janet, Janet;

Syne a' their fauts will no be seen,
My Jo, Janet.

Kind sir, for your courtesie,

When ye gae to the Cross, then,
For the luve ye bear to me,
Buy me a pacing-horse, then.-
Pace upo' your spinnin-wheel,
Janet, Janet;

Pace upo' your spinnin-wheel,
My Jo, Janet.

* A hare.

My spinnin-wheel is auld and stiff,
The rock o't winna stand, sir,
To keep the temper-pin in tiff,
Employs right aft my hand, sir.-
Mak the best o't that ye can,
Janet, Janet;

But like it never wale a man,
My Jo, Janet.

THE SHEPHERD'S COMPLAINT.

THE words by a Mr. R. Scott, from the town or neighbourhood of Biggar.

THE BIRKS OF ABERFELDY.

I COMPOSED these stanzas standing under the falls of Aberfeldy, at, or near, Moness."

Tune-BIRKS OF ABERGILDIE.

Now simmer blinks on flowery braes,
And o'er the chrystal streamlets plays;
Come let us spend the lightsome days
In the birks of Aberfeldy.

Bonny lassie, will ye go,
Will ye go, will ye go,

Bonny lassie, will ye go,

To the birks of Aberfeldy?

The little birdies blythly sing,

While o'er their heads the hazels hing;

Or lightly flit on wanton wing,

In the birks of Aberfeldy.
Bonny lassie, &c.

The braes ascend like lofty wa's,
The foaming stream, deep-roaring, fa's,
O'erhung wi' fragrant spreading shaws,
The birks of Aberfeldy.

Bonny lassie, &c.

The hoary cliffs are crown'd wi' flowers,
White o'er the linn the burnie pours,

And rising, weets wi' misty showers,
The birks of Aberfeldy.
Bonny lassie, &c.

Let fortune's gifts at random flee,
They ne'er shall draw a wish frae me,
Supremely blest wi' love and thee,

In the birks of Aberfeldy.
Bonny lassie, &c.

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THE HIGHLAND LASSIE, O.

THIS was a composition of mine in very early life, before I was known at all in the world. My Highland Lassie was a warm-hearted, charming young creature as ever blessed a man with generous love. After a pretty long tract of the most ardent reciprocal attachment, we met by appointment, on the second Sunday of May, in a sequestered spot by the Banks of Ayr, where we spent the day in taking a farewel, before she should embark for the WestHighlands, to arrange matters among her friends for our projected change of life. At the close of Autumn following she crossed the sea to meet me at Greenock, where she had scarce landed when she was seized with a malignant fever, which hurried my dear girl to the grave in a few days, before I could even hear of her illness.*

* There are events in this transitory scene of existence, seasons of joy or of sorrow, of despair or of hope, which as they powerfully affect us at the time, serve as epochs to the history of our lives. They may be termed the trials of the heart.-We treasure them deeply in our memory, and as time glides silently away, they help us to number our days. Of this character was the parting of Burns with his Highland Mary, that interesting

female,

Nae gentle dames, tho' ne'er sae fair,
Shall ever be my Muse's care;
Their titles a' are empty shew;
Gie me my Highland lassie, O.

Within the glen sae bushy, O,
Aboon the plain sae rashy, O,
I set me down wi' right good will,
To sing my Highland lassie, O.

O were yon hills and vallies mine,
Yon palace and yon gardens fine!
The world then the love should know
I bear my Highland lassie, O.

Within the glen, &c.

female, the first object of the youthful Poet's love. This adieu was performed with all those simple and striking ceremonials which rustic sentiment has devised to prolong tender emotions and to inspire awe. The lovers stood on each side of a small purling brook; they laved their hands in its limpid stream, and holding a bible between them, pronounced their vows to be faithful to each other. They parted-never to meet again!

The anniversary of Mary Campbell's death (for that was her name), awakening in the sensitive mind of Burns the most lively emotion, he retired from his family, then residing on the farm of Ellisland, and wandered, solitary, on the banks of the Nith, and about the farm-yard, in the extremest agitation of mind, nearly

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