No. LI.

FROM THE

REVEREND JOHN SKINNER.

Linshart, 28th April, 1788.

DEAR SIR,

I RECEIVED your last with the curious present you have favored me with, and would have made proper acknowledgments before now, but that I have been necessarily engaged in matters of a different complexion. And now that I have got a little respite, I make use of it to thank you for this valuable instance of your good will, and to assure you that, with the sincere heart of a true Scotsman, I highly esteem both the gift and the giver as a small testimony of which I have herefor your amusement (and in a form

with sent you

which I hope you will excuse for saving postage) the two songs I wrote about to you already. Charming Nancy is the real production of genius in a plowman of twenty years of age at the time of its appearing, with no more education than what he picked up at an old farmer-grandfather's fireside, though now, by the strength of natural parts, he is clerk to a thriving bleachfield in the neighbourhood. And I doubt not but you will find in it a simplicity and delicacy, with some turns of humour, that will please one of your taste; at least it pleased me when I first saw it, if that can be any recommendation to it. The other is entirely descriptive of my own sentiments, and you may make use of one or both as you shall see good. *

You

*CHARMING NANCY.

A Song by a Buchan Plowman.

Tune-" HUMOURS OF GLEN."

SOME sing of sweet Mally, some sing of fair Nelly, And some call sweet Susie the cause of their pain: Some love to be jolly, some love melancholy,

And some love to sing of the Humours of Glen.

You will oblige me by presenting my respects to your host, Mr. Cruikshank, who has given such

high

But my only fancy, is my pretty Nancy,

In venting my passion, I'll strive to be plain, I'll ask no more treasure, I'll seek no more pleasure,

But thee, my dear Nancy, gin thou wert my ain.

Her beauty delights me, her kindness invites me,
Her pleasant behaviour is free from all stain,
Therefore my sweet jewel, O do not prove cruel,

Consent, my dear Nancy, and come be my ain:
Her carriage is comely, her language is homely,
Her dress is quite decent when ta'en in the main ;
She's blooming in feature, she's handsome in stature,
My charming, dear Nancy, O wert thou my ain.

Like Phoebus adorning the fair ruddy morning,
Her bright eyes are sparkling, her brows are serene,
Her yellow locks shining, in beauty combining,
My charming, sweet Nancy, wilt thou be my ain?
The whole of her face is with maidenly graces
Array'd like the gowans, that grow in yon glen,
She's well shap'd and slender, true hearted and tender,
My charming, sweet Nancy, O wert thou my ain!

high approbation to my poor Latinity; you may let him know, that as I have likewise been a dabbler in Latin poetry, I have two things that I would, if he desires it, submit, not to his judgment, but to his amusement; the one, a translation of Christ's Kirk o' the green, printed at Aberdeen

some

I'll seek thro' the nation for some habitation,
To shelter my jewel from cold, snow, and rain,
With songs to my deary, I'll keep her ay cheery,
My charming, sweet Nancy, gin thou wert my ain,
I'll work at my calling to furnish thy dwelling,

With ev'ry thing needful thy life to sustain,
Thou shalt not sit single, but by a clear ingle,
I'll marrow thee, Nancy, when thou art my ain.

I'll make true affection the constant direction
Of loving my Nancy while life doth remain :
Tho' youth will be wasting, true love shall be lasting,
My charming, sweet Nancy, gin thou wert my ain.
But what if my Nancy should alter her fancy,

To favor another be forward and fain,

I will not compel her, but plainly I'll tell her,
Begone, thou false Nancy, thou'se ne'er be my ain.

some years ago; the other Batrachomyomachia Homeri latinis vestita cum additamentis, given in

lately

THE OLD MAN'S SONG.

Tune-"DUMBARTON'S DRUMS."

BY THE REVEREND J. SKINNER.

O! why should old age so much wound us? O,
There is nothing in't all to confound us, O,
For how happy now am I,

With my old wife sitting by;

And our bairns, and our oys all around us, O.

We began in the world wi' naething, O,

And we've jogg'd on, and toil'd for the ae' thing, O;
We made use of what we had,

And our thankful hearts were glad,

When we got the bit meat and the claething, O.

We have liv'd all our lifetime contented, O,
Since the day we became first acquainted, O,
It's true we've been but poor,

And we are so to this hour,

Yet we never repin'd nor lamented, O.