But fickle fortune frowns on me,
And I maun cross the raging sea;
But while my crimson currents flow,
I'll looe my Highland lassie, O.
Within the glen, &c.

Altho' thro' foreign climes I range,
I know her heart will never change,
For her bosom burns with honor's glow,
My faithful Highland lassie, O.
Within the glen, &c.

For her I'll dare the billow's roar;
For her I'll trace a distant shore;
That Indian wealth may lustre throw
Around my Highland lassie, O.
. Within the glen, &c.

She has my heart, she has my hand,

By secret truth and honor's band!
"Till the mortal stroke shall lay me low,
I'm thiue, my Highland lassie, O.

nearly the whole of the night: His agitation was so great, that he threw himself on the side of a corn stack, and there conceived his sublime and tender elegy—his address To Mary in Heaven.

Ed.

Farewel, the glen sae bushy, O!
Farewel, the plain sae rashy, O!
To other lands I now must go,
To sing my Highland lassie, O!

GUDE YILL COMES, AND GUDE YILL GOES.

THIS song sings to the tune called The bottom of the punch bowl, of which a very good copy may be found in M'Gibbon's Collection.

2

O gude yill comes, and gude yill goes,

me sell

Gude jill gars me

my hose,

Sell my hose, and pawn my shoon,
For gude jill keeps my heart aboon.

I had sax owsen in a pleugh,

And they drew teugh and weel eneugh;
I drank them a' ane by ane,

For gude yill keeps my heart aboon.

Gude yill, &c.

I had forty shillin in a clout,

Gude yill gart me pyke them out;

That gear should moule I thought a sin,
Gude yill keeps my heart aboon.

Gude yill, &c.

The meikle pot upon my back,
Unto the yill-house I did pack;
It melted a' wi' the heat o' the moon,
Gude yill keeps my heart aboon.
Gude yill, &c.

Gude yill hauds me bare and busy,
Gars me jink wi' the servant hizzie,
Stand in the kirk when I hae done,
Gude yill keeps my heart aboon.
Gude yill, &c.

I wish their fa' may be a gallows,
Winna gie gude yill to gude fellows,
And keep a soup 'till the afternoon,
Gude yill keeps my heart aboon.

O gude yill comes, and gude yill goes,
Gude yill gars me sell my hose,
Sell my hose, and pawn my shoon,

Gude yill keeps my heart aboon.

* These are old words altered by Burns. The original verses were recovered by the Editor, and are published among the "Remains of Nithsdale and Galloway Song."

FIFE, AND A' THE LANDS ABOUT IT.

THIS song is Dr. Blacklock's. He, as well as I, often gave Johnson verses, trifling enough, perhaps, but they served as a vehicle to the music.

WERE NA MY HEART LIGHT I WAD DIE.

LORD Hailes, in the notes to his collection of ancient Scots poems, says that this song was the composition of a Lady Grissel Baillie, daughter of the first Earl of Marchmont, and wife of George Baillie, of Jerviswood,

There was anes a May,* and she loo'd na men,
She biggit her bonny bow'r down in yon glen;
But now she cries dool! and a well-a-day!
Come down the green gate, and come here

But now she cries, &c.

away.

When bonny young Johny came o'er the sea,
He said he saw naithing sae lovely as me;
He hecht me baith rings and mony braw things;
And were na my heart light I wad die.

He hecht me, &c.

* Maid..

He had a wee titty that loo'd na me,
Because I was twice as bonny as she;

She rais'd such a pother 'twixt him and his mother,
That were na my heart light, I wad die.

She rais'd, &c.

The day it was set, and the bridal to be,

The wife took a dwam, and lay down to die;

She main❜d and she grain'd out of dolour and pain, Till he vow'd he never wad see me again.

She main'd, &c.

His kin was for ane of a higher degree,

Said, What had he to do with the like of me?

Albeit I was bonny, I was na for Johny:

And were na my heart light, I wad die.
Albeit I wad, &c.

They said, I had neither cow nor caff,
Nor dribbles of drink rins throw the draff,
Nor pickles of meal rins throw the mill-ee;
And were na my heart light, I wad die,
Nor pickles of, &c.

His titty she was baith wylie and slee,
She spy'd me as I came o'er the lee;
And then she ran in and made a loud din,
Believe your ain een, an ye trow na me,
And then she, &c.