GLOOMY WINTER'S COME AGAIN. TUNE" Gloomy Winter's now awa." GLOOMY winter's come again; Flaky snaw decks white the plain, Whare Nature bloom'd sae cheerie, O. My fair yet faithless Mary, O. The snaw-clad hills o'ertap the cluds, A' around deserted looks, * We have heard this beautiful counterpart to Gloomy winter's now awa, attributed to the pen of Mr. JAMES AITCHISON, Printer in Edinburgh. Whether this be the fact or not, we shall not pretend to determine; but may remark, that its poetical merits are such as need not make the Author blush to acknowledge it. SHE'S FAIR AND FAUSE. SHE'S fair and fause that causes my smart, She's broken her vow, she's broken my heart, A coof cam in wi' rowth o' gear, Whae'er ye be that woman love, Nae ferlie 'tis tho' fickle she prove, ANDREW WI' HIS CUTTY GUN. And leugh to see a tappit hen. I lo'ed the liquor weel eneugh, But, waes my heart, my cash ran done, Blythe, blythe, &c. When we had three times toom'd the stowp, The Carlin brought her kebbuck ben, We ca'd the bicker aft about, Till dawin we ne'er jeed our bum; He did like onie mavis sing, I hae been east, I hae been west, BESSY BELL AND MARY GRAY. O BESSY BELL and Mary Gray, Fair Bessy Bell I lo'ed yestreen, Now Bessy's hair's like a lint-tap; And Mary's locks are like a craw, Dear Bessy Bell and Mary Gray, Waes me! for baith I canna get, To ane by law we're stented; * The first stanza of this song is supposed to be part of the original, which it is to be regretted RAMSAY altered, substituting his own verses in its stead, it being highly probable that the present song is much inferior to the old one, which was founded on the following story:-" The celebrated BESSY BELL and MARY GRAY are buried near Lyndoch (the seat of the hero of Ba THE MUIRLAND FARMER. TUNE-"The rock and the wee pickle tow." I'm now a gude farmer, I've acres o' lan', An' my heart aye loups light whan I'm viewin' o't; An' I hae servants at my comman', An' twa daintie cowtes for the pleughin' o't. Leeze me on the mailin that's fa'n to my share, An' a daintie bit bog for the mawin' o't. rossa, Lord Lyndoch). The common tradition is, that the father of the former was laird of Kinvaid, in the neighbourhood of Lyndoch, and the father of the latter laird of Lyndoch; that these two young ladies were both very handsome, and a most intimate friendship subsisted between them; that while Miss BELL was on a visit to Miss GRAY, the plague broke out in the year 1666, in order to avoid which, they built themselves a bower, about three-quarters of a mile west from Lyndoch house, in a very retired and romantic place, called Burn-braes, on the side of Brauchie-burn. Here they lived for some time, but the plague raging with great fury, they caught the infection, it is said, from a young gentleman, who was in love with them both, and here they died. The burial place lies about half a mile west from the present house of Lyndoch, near a beautiful bank of the Almond." Major BERRY, the late proprietor of Lyndoch, inclosed, with pious care, the spot of ground, and consecrated it to the memory of these famed and amiable friends. |