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, But what if dancing on the green, Syne a' their fauts will no be seen, Kind sir, for your courtesie, When ye gae to the Cross, then, Pace upo' your spinnin-wheel, * A hare. My spinnin-wheel is auld and stiff, But like it never wale a man, 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, Bonny lassie, 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. The braes ascend like lofty wa's, Bonny lassie, &c. The hoary cliffs are crown'd wi' flowers, And rising, weets wi' misty showers, Let fortune's gifts at random flee, In the birks of Aberfeldy. 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, Within the glen sae bushy, O, O were yon hills and vallies mine, 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 |