Now to her berth the fhip draws nigh,
We take in fail-fhe feels the tide;
"Stand clear the cable”—is the cry,
The anchor's gone, we fafely ride.

The watch is fet, and through the night,
We hear the feaman with delight,

Proclaim" ALL'S WELL!"

SONG IN THE FARMER,

ERE around the huge oak that o'erfhadows yon mill,
The fond ivy had dar'd to entwine,

Ere the church was a ruin, that nods on the hill,
Or a rook built his neft on the pine;

Could I trace back the time, a far diftant date,
Since my forefathers toil'd in this field;
And the farm I now hold on your honour's eftate,
Is the fame that my grandfather till'd.

He dying, bequeath'd to his fon a good name,
Which, unfullied, defcended to me;

For my child I've preferv'd it,unblemish'd with shame,
And it ftill from a spot fhall be free.

MISS FORBES'S FAREWELL TO BANFF.

FAREWELL ye fields an' meadows green,
The bleft retreats of peace an' love,

Aft have 1 filent ftol'n from hence,
With my young fwain, a while to rove.
Sweet was our walk, mair fweet our talk,
Amang the beauties of the spring,
And aft we'd lean us on a bank,
To hear the feather'd warblers fing.

The azure sky, the hills around,
Gave double beauty to the scene,
The lofty fpires of Banff in view,
On every fide the waving grain.
The tales of love my Jamie told,
In such a saft an' moving strain,
Hath fo engag'd my tender heart,
I'm loth to leave the place again.

But if the fates will be fae kind,
As favour my return once more,
For to enjoy the peace o' mind,
In those retreats I had before.
But farewell Banff! the nimble fteeds,
Doth bear me hence, I must away,
Yet time perhaps may bring me back,
To part nae mair from scenes fo gay.

A MAN'S A MAN FOR A' THAT.

BURNS.

IS there for honest poverty,

Wha hangs his head and a' that, The coward flave we pass him by, And dare be poor for a' that. For a' that, and a' that,

Our toils obfcure and a' that, The rank is but the guinea-ftamp, The man's the goud for a' that.

What though on hamely fare we dine,
Wear hodden gray, and a' that:
Gie fools their filk, and knaves their wine,

A man's a man for a' that.

For a' that, and a' that,

Their tinfel fhew, and a' that;
An honeft man, though ne'er fae poor,

Is chief o' men for a' that.

Ye fee yon birkię, ca'd a lord,

Wha ftruts, and ftares, and a' that, Though hundreds worship at his word, He's but a cuif for a' that.

For a' that, and a' that,

His ribband, ftar, and a' that;
A man of independent mind,
Can look, and laugh at a' that.

The king can mak' a belted knight,
A marquis, duke, and a' that,
But an honeft man's aboon his might,
Guid-faith he manna fa' that!
For a' that, and a' that,

His dignities, and a' that;
The pith o' fenfe, and pride o' worth,
Are grander far than a' that.

Then let us pray, that come it may,

As come it fhall, for a' that; That fenfe and worth, o'er a' the earth, Shall bear the gree, and a' that;

For a' that, and a' that,

It's coming yet, for a' that;

Whan man, and man, the world o'er,
Shall brothers be, and a' that.

When thickeft darkness covers all,
Far on the tracklefs ocean;

When lightnings dart-when thunders roll,
And all is wild commotion;

When o'er the bark the white topp'd waves,
With boift'rous fweep are rolling,
Yet cooly ftill the whole he braves,
Untam'd amidst the howling.

Then, oh! protect, &c.

When deep immers'd in fulphurous smoke, He feels a glowing pleasure;

He loads his gun-he cracks his joke,

Elated beyond measure.

Tho' fore and aft the blood ftain'd deck
Should lifelefs trunks appear;

Or fhould the veffel float a wreck,

When long becalm'd, on fouthern brine,

Where fcorching beams affail him; When all the canvas hangs fupine,

And food and water fail him;