WjDLi^i s ©rr (B-iL A s ►^ SCENES OF mmiwt ORIGINAL SCOTTISH SONGS. BY WILLISON GLASS. A Son of Auld Reekie, DEDICATED TO THE IIIGHT HON. LORD ARCHD. HAMILTON. A Classic Learning may infuse A Critic skill isto the Muse, But never, never, can impart A single ray to warm the heart ;i— 'Tis he who pours his artless Song, Can steal the list'ning orowd along ; Can melt or fire the breast by tumi; A Poet such we had in Burns. CAREFULLY CORRECTED. STIRLING: POINTED FOR THE AUTHOIl, BY M. RANDALL, BOOKSELLER. 18H. PREFACE. X ROM the real unaffected lovers of the Scottish Mose, W. G. naturally enough expects this little volume to raeet with a favourable reception. The native garb in which her unborrowed beauties are embodied, is to them endeai-ed by a thousand associations into which a stranger cannot enter, and by feelings of the fondest remcmbrcnce, with which he is not disposed to sympa- thize. It is on this account chiefly, that they are al- ways the very first to detect her charms, and generally the very last to confess her imperfections. Without entertaining any doubt, however, that the success of this work will be commensurate with his fon- dest expectations, he cannot help noticing, with a min- gled emotion of shame and regret, the long and unjust neglect with which Scott i.>h song has been treated. The cause to which this ne-lect is chiefly to be ascribed, is no doubt sufficiently apparent. But the cins of ser- vile Imitators ought not surely t-6 be visited on the whole 2 A O^. OQ IV PREFACE. generation that dwell around Parnassus : and mncli less Oiight the sanctified ground itself, over which their un- hallowed feet have trode, to bo abandoned as a barren.- v/iiste, or unproductive desart. CX those Vrlio have lliu<» brought undeserved disgrace on the majestic simplicity of Scottish song, some have actually not understood the language in which they have attempted to write ; while a considerable majority have been utterly incapable of writing intelligibly in any language. W. G, will be pardoned, he hopes, if he expunge his vOwn name from this black catalogue. It will not be found, he supposes, by a qualified judge, that he. is defi- cient, either in the true pronunciation or the orthogra- phy of the language. With the peculiar rhythm and me- lody of Scottish song he has been long, fjmiliar ; and he is mistaken if any reader of taste will rise from the per- usal of even these short lucubrations, unalive to the measured melody cf their versification, unaffected by the thoughts which they cither disclose or suggestj or unprepared to acknowledge the discriminr.tion ami taste which appear in the execution. 4- SCENES OF GLOAMIN'. Air Miller of Drone Now, dearest Jessy, gloauiin' grey. Shades ilka bloomin* tree, And balmy eve, on silent wing. Comes stealin' o'er the lea ; Around us a' is hush'd serene. Save frae yon dusky grove. The mellov/ mavis swells the note Of bosom soothing love. We'll wander wi' the windings O' the smoothly gliding burn. Then saftly we'll recline beneath The sweet perfuming thorn. And there we'll pour our langing hearts, Secure frae ilka ee — 3 A SCENESOV GLOAMIN . My Je^^S)', kindest, sweetest, Tairei^r, Will you gang vvi' me ? O lovely mnid, why hangs the cloud Upon your bonny biow ? You canna doubt my honest truth. My love sae warm an' true. The savage tiger v/ould b3 tamed By ae saft glance from thee ; And could thy love, O Jessy, prove Mair savjige e'en than he! But I will press thcc to my breast — • O ecstacy divine ! Emotions there, will tell you mair, Than ony words o' mine. Then I will count it heaven enough Thy yielding lips to pric — My Jessy, kindest, sweetest, fairest. Come alanof wi' me. SCENES OF GLOAMIN AiVL. ........ Humours o Glen. WILD beats my heart when I think on my Jcssjv The flame o* my bosom nac pow'r can remove; Still, still I maun love her, for now I discover Tliat naelhing 15 match for tho fury c' love. The precepts o' w ibdom aft tliink ihej^ hae won ine. Bat ae thought o' lier drives them a' frae my braiaj 1 think on the hours, in the sweet shady bow'rs, \Vhen our souU iiiix'd in sighs 0' celestial pain. Fond memory returns to our first trysted meeting, How anxious I stoed 'midst the bleak wint'ry wind ; She came — transport drown'd me — heav'n a' beam'J a- round me ! O dear happy moment my Jessy was kind ! As the sweet simmer sun to the dead icy fountain, To m}'^ wintiy bosom was Jessy's bright eye ; She broke my cauld slumber, and woke me to wondrr, And kindled within me what never can die. O pure is the snaw on the wild pathless mountain. And fresh is the mornin' o' dimmer begun ! O sweet is tiie gale o'er the flow'r scented valley, And mild is the Iicur 0' the calm aetting sun ! © SCENES OF GLOAMIN'. Tint O tlie mild bcaiiiy o' my darling lassie! Tills heart kindly feels it, but words canna tell, 'J'ij vain to compare her, tn still she is fairer; there's naethiny In nature like Jessy hersel'. But soon I mram leave her — O sad the expression ! The time fast approaches that tears me awa* ; Stern fate bids us sunder, I'm dcstin'd to wander, And yield as the cross winds o' fortune may blaw. I'll maybe again be vestor'd to my Jessy, Tho' darkness and danger have clouded the sccue ; But while life shall '.rarm me, remembrance shall charm me, She'll ici^n In my bosom, ilio' seas roll between. Ai9...,Lady Catharint Stetvart's Strathspey* O Peggy could I tell the pain, My beating heart and burning brain. For thee endure, nae mair in vain Would be my sad complaining. O Peggy, could you search ray soul. And every secret fold unroll, Then would you find, without controul, Yourself a queen there reigning. SCENES OF GLOAMI^'. Far frae the cheerfu' haunts o' men, I wander through the lanely glen. To tell the midnight moon my pain,- For Peggy' winna hear me. Life is to me a tlreary dream, Baith day and night the joyless same ;, In sighs I waste my wearied frame,. But Peggy winna cheer me* I saw your lovely shape and mien, I met your saft bewitching een. Your dimpled smile, where lurk, unseen j, A thousand shafts o' danger. But gin ye mean to leave me thus. Why did you grant the burning kiss ?, Why let me tas-te, and promise blip's,. And still your heart a stranger ? O do you never gang to see The sweetly blooming trysting tree ?.' Its shade shall ay be dear to me,, Tlio' Peggy be na sharing, is a' my peace; for ever slain ? Is ilka beam o' comfort gane ?' O Peggy shall we meet again. Or maun I die despairing r^ 10 SCENES OF GLOAMIn'. EARLY DAYS. AlR.«...,iiCrfl*j< Jane.- Early days (how fair and fleeting f) Blest us e'er the parting scene ; Now tUe Fates forbid our meeting, And the deep sea rolls betweten. Fare thee well ! — the love I bear thee. Hapless, yet shall true remain — Never one 1 lov'd bo dearly— Ne'er thy like shall Bee again.* Now my days seem lingering ages, Nightly tossings rack my 60ul> Y'et a ray of hope assuages. As the tardy moments roll. Ah ! I'll brook this joyless region, Till the cheering order come. Bring thee back thy conq'ring legion, Hie thee to thy peaceful home* * This Slanza n-as composed hj Sir G. E—'—'ti SCENES OF GLOAMIm'. ^1 MELVILLE KATIE, Am ..Locheroch Side. December winds fell bitter blaw. And mountain taps are clad wi' snavr. The sleet and hail down rattlln' fi* And a' things round look dreary. Quo* I, my lass, the night is cauld. The northern wind blaws )ceen and bauld. The sheep are smear'd and in the fauld. Come to my arms my dearie. O I will dead and mak you braw. The sun will sune his gold rays shaw, The winter days flee fast awa'. And spring maks a' things cheery. Then on the hill, wi' pipe and plaid, I'll sing o' you, my bonny maid ; Tho' sheep and lambs aroQnd were stray 'd My heart's ay yours, my dearie. By Melville's banks where waters glide, "When you become my bonny bride, To kiss and daut will be my pride : O' you ril ne'er be weary. 12 SCENES 01' GLOAMIn'. And should the Powers but bless our fate Wi' lads aa lasses, my dear Kate* Then, O how happy sic a state. When todlin round my dearie. \VHAT IS VICTORY? Am...Scots tvHe hae 'xi* Walhce blecL What is Vict'ry to our Isle ? "What the battle o' the Nile ? U'hat, when thousands rank an' file Bled wi* gallant Moore? Why, O Man, so savage be ? O why shed your blood so free i Why to conquer or to die ? Mind Corrunna's shore. Why go train the warlike steed 2 Why in steel liis rider clead ? Why the mangled corses tread ? Or make cannon roar? O sweet Peace, when wilt thou come ! Then no sound is heard from drum. And the hall wi' trumpets hung. There to sound no more. SCENES OF GLOAMIN*. 13 iHeaven ward ofF ambition's fiend, To his black dominion send A' his crew, his schemes to end, Thew we shall be free. Then shall Palm, wi' Shamrock green, Be wi' Rose and Thistle seen, Blooming like fair virtue's queen. Both by Land and Sea, LEVEN STREAMS. AiR„.The bonny House ofAirky, My dear, dear lass, I've kJsst fu' sweet, When wi' her I would tarry By Leven streams, the sweet retreat Did cheer my heart wi' Mary. Fareweel, fareweel, to Leven streams, * Where the wild flower blooms so fairly ;■ My rest's disturb'd by dreary dreama * 'Bout the lassie I lo'e dearly.* But tho* I'm distant mony a milCi My love shall never vary ; B .» ,14; . SCENES OF GLOAMIN*. Her doubts o* me do but beguile My \o\et my life, my Mary ! Tho* seas roll loud and far between. Yet word shall Neptune carry. That faith fu' Henry still is seen Wi' laurels crown'd for Mary. In hopes the time will soon arrive When we like lambs will parry. By Leven side, when Henry's bride. Shall be the happy Mary. Then Leven swains and nymphs sae neat. Will hail the hon«r*d Harry ; And Kir-kland youths the day will get, And join the dance wi' Mary. Ye sogers far, whom direfu' war, Has taen ye frae your deary, Ee constant te your lovely fair. And they'll be like sweet Mary. Then welcome back to Leven streams. Where youth are train'd fu* early ; May Kirkland's guide and Kirkland's scheme? Ee crowft'd wi' guceess rarely. SCENES OF GLOAMIM'. JJ Am 'aalli/, toall^. Love never mair aiiall warm my breast, Nor woman's beauty charm my eye ; They can but wake the cruel blast That wither'd a' my budding joy, For I did love wi' passion wild, And fondly thought she lo'ed me well; But ah ! ihe frail, the faithless child, She's ruin'd me, likewise hersel'. Through angry nature's bleakest storms. On wings of bliss, how aft I've flown ; And O how sweet it was to meet ! Tliis beating bosom kens alone. Within my soul nought else had room ; 1 saw her lovely, thought her true ; The modest snow drop's purest bloom Was not so spotless to my view. My burden'd heart would fain repose. But that repose can ne'er be found ; For she that ance sooth'd a' my woes Hersel' has gi'en the sairest wound. 2 B IB SCENES OF GLOAMIN'. O woman, woman, wha would trew Thy angel form, sae sweet an* fair, The mansion, wha would think to view, That foul deceit were tenants there ! Yet, cruel maid ! nae power can quell The throbbings of that injur'd breast ; And when to thee I bade farewel, I bade farewel to peace and rest I Though morning's sun serenely beam, Ere noon black storms may cloud the skieSj, And human bliss, wi' falser gleam, Displays her shadowy form — and flies.^ ANNIVERSARY OF THE BIRTH OF ROBER T B URNS, Alls.. ..Caledonian Hunt's DelighL Ye sons of verse, ye favor'd few, Whom friendship's ties this nigh* combine^ Behold your much lamented friend,. With wreaths his sacred brow entwine^ Ah, name rever'd, to genius dear, ' Departed, great, immortal Burns ! SCESES OF GLOAMIN*. Vl Agatn returns thy natal day, But Scotia's Bard no more returns. Cease throbbing hearts! cease dropping tears! (Alasi wbat can your grief avail?) The Bard wha taught you thus to feci Now sleeps in death's dark dreary vale. Peace to his shade! Fame crown his grave, Whilst feelings in your bosom burn. And hail the sacred natal day Of him who never can return. While Caledonia's thistle waves. While Scotia*s genius pours her Song, So long, sweet Bard ! to nature true, S(J long shall time thy fame prolong Yes 1 Coila's heav'n-taught son of song. Each glowing heart will deck thy urn, And hail the sacred natal day Of him that's gone, ne'er te return. 3 B 18 StENES OF GLOAMING. GARD'NER TAMMIE. (composed in memory of a cii,'::f companion', t- m -, who died of a broken heart.) AiK,.,Gioomij JVintcr*s novo aiva\ Tilt, storm it rag'd o'er ilka hill, The wind blew hard, but Tarn was still ; Par, fiiT frae hame a grave doth fill The warmest hearted Tammie O. His heart was kind, his soul sincere, But wae betide his cruel Fair ! Her name for gudesake dinna spier. She was the death o' Tammie O. Ye cruel Fair, v/hy thus impair Your husband's peace, when a' their care 'S to mak you right? Can they do mair ? 'Twas just the gate o' Tammie O. Weel could he dance, weel could he sing, And aft he'd shaw the highJand fling. At kirns an' fairs nane could him ding, Theyauldj the handsome Tammie O. To see him o'er the social bowl, Wi' Maitland Watf, jovl?! scul! A SCENES OF CLOAMIM', 19 His laugh how blythe, now winds do howl Out o'er the grave jo' Tammie O. Ye friends o' Tam, come join wi' me, His mem'ry drink wi' three times three ! A chield lilie him we'll never see — Now Eden's gard'ncr's I'amiiiie O, THE BONNY LASS O' GRANSTONHILL. Ain...Thi/ Chechs are o' the Rosy Hue. Ye h)ve-born nymphs, ye amorous swains. Who tread the Scotian, Paphiaa grove. Have you e'er htard 'mangst westlen strains, The matchless maid I've sworn to love ? No brain-fonn'd theme my muse inspires, No aerial phantom by yon rill ; Her name my throbbing bosom fires, My dear lov'd lass o' cnANSTOKiiiLL. Have you e'er seen the orient morn" Bedeck a cloudless enstern sky. Such cr'iiison fair her cheeks adorn. Such radience sparkles in her eye. Ah ! hory unlike the rustic train, Her bloOKiin2 ^ace would angels kill. 20 SCENES OP GLOAMlH*. Ador*J by each surrounding swain. My dear lov'd lass o* cranstonhill. Sweet were the hours of infant days, We spent by Esk's sweet wimplin' stream ; But O my bJiss was like the blaze, Shot from the meteor's transient gleai». With grief the sweets o' simmer pass, A grave ray wearied frame must fill ; Unless she says she'll sune be mine. The bonny lass o' cranstokhill. A FAREWELL SONG TO CLYDE. Aiu Erin gu brak. Adieu, gentle Ciutha, thy streams and thy fountairis, Thy green flow'ry banks — thy commercial shore, Thy source like f.iir Tweed's frae the same lofty mountain, Or timid recoiling frae oceaft's loud roar. Once to thy soft murmurs my wild notes would measure, In lone contemplation, by thee found Tich treasure. False friendship in one* whom I once took great pleasure, I've found a retreat frae the sting of his power. In beauty transcendent I thought thee neglected, Spontaneous my pipe in thy praises would sound, * A. B, a fain wouldbe poet. SCENES OF GLOAMIN*, 21 Ere budded, my laure's he stok , but detected, They*M {xde on that soil where no honour is found. Like Clutha's fair streams long in concord have glided, Fair honour and truth let them ne'er be divided, By them let my tongue and nay ptn still be guided, My cheek ghall not blush nor my heart feel a wound. Air Up amang yon cliff)/- rocJcs, How sweet on Leven** sllVer stream?, Around her banks the wild flowers blooming, Gn ilka bush the warblers vie. In kindling strains of love an* joy : But Leven's banks which bloom sae fair, An* Leven's streams which glide sae saucy. Would sune be dowie, pale an' bare, Gin't werena for my chosen lassie : Her presence fills them a' wi' pride. The bonay lass o' Leven side. When sober eve begins her reign, The little birds to cease their singing. An* flowers, their beauty to renew^ Their bosoms bathe in diamond dew 22 SCENES OF GLOAMIn'. When far beyond the Lomonds bigh, The wheels of day are downward rowin*, An* a* the western closin' sky Wi' varied tints o* glory lov/in' ; 'Tis then my eager steps I guide, To meet the lass o' Levea side. The solemn sweetness nature spreads, The kindly hour to love invitin'. Within our happy bosoms move The saftest sigh o' purest love. Reclin'd upon the velvet grass. Beneath the balmy birken blossom, how the sacred moments pass When clasped to ker beating bosom- How swells my heart wi' rapture's tidej When wi' the lass o' Leven side. She never saw the splendid ball, She never blaz'd in courtly grandeur. But like her native lilly's bloom, Adorns her cheerfu' humble home : The pert reply, the modish air, To soothe the soul were never granted ; When modest sense an* love are there. The guise o' art may weel be wanted— O fate, gie me to be my bride. The bonny lass o* Lcven side ! SCENES OF CLO AM in'. 23 Am,. ..., Captain O^Kainc. B'f the green verdant banks of the clear winding Leven, Young Jeany did wander when twilight was gone, While the sigh of distress her white bosom was heaving, Xo pour out her sorrows unseen and alone. Her robes loosely hung, and her bosom was bare, Her dark raven locks careless wav*d in the wind; Her face it was lovely, though clouded with care, And her soul it was^enerous, loving, and kind. From her eyes, once so cheerful, the tears were de- scending, And sweet was her voice, though it warbled deep woe, While the throes of keen anguish her heart strings were rending, She told her sad tale to the winds that did blow. Why ventur'd my love o'er the waves, she did cry, Jn search of vain glory *raidst murderous war, And left me behind him in sorrow to sigh ? O why frona his Jean did he wander so far ? How oft have we stray'd by the brook gently gliding, As blythe as the larks when they welcome the room j 24 SCENES OP gloamin'. Alas ' now in Egypt perhaps he lies bleeding. While friendless I wander, dejecteol, forlorn. But if he survive, if he ever return. And gladden with pleasure this sorrowful heart, My tears then shall cease, and no longer 1*11 mourn. With rapture we'll meet, and we never shall part. Though the wild waves of ocean now part us asunder. One sweet beam of comfort shall soften my pain ; Still safe from the rage of fell war's roaring thunder, My love may return to my fond arms again. But hark ! a sad voice — 'twas his father's, she knew. Who seem'd, like herself, of her fate to complain ; Attentive she listen'd, and near to him drew, And she tenderly asked the cause of his pain. Sad news, he exclaim'd, is the cause of my mournings My son sleeps in death on a far distant shore! With glory I thought to have seen him returning. But ah, well-a-day I I shall see him no more. Aghast stood the maid — nature's torrent recoil'd. Fond hope from her bosom for ever retir'd ; She shudder'd — and staring, distracted and wild, Cry'd Willy!— Oh Willy I— then sunk and expir'd. SCENES OF GLOAMIN'. 36 Air — Andrew toi his chUu gu^^ CHORUS, B/i/tlie, bli/lhe, and hctfpi/ are tue, Cauld care isjley'd awa ; This is but ae night of our lives. And ivha vooald grudge tho it "were tvoa. The ev'ning shade around is spread, The chilUng tempest sweeps the skj', We're kindly met, and warmly set, An' streams o' nappy rinnin' by. Bli/the^ blijlhei, 8^x, While gettin* fou, we're grit, I trow. We scorn misfortune's sairest bangs; The magic bowl can lift the soul Aboon the warld and a' its wrangs^ Bli/ihe, Uythe, S^c. The days o' man are but a span, This mortal life a passing dreiwn i C 26 SCENES OP 6LOAMlSl\ Nought t€> illume the dreary gloom, Save love and friendship's sacred gleam, Blythey blijthey Sfc. Then loom your glass to my sweet lass, And neist we'll turn it o'er to thine ; The glowin' breast that loves them best. Shall dearest ever be to mine. JBIythe, bJythe, ^-c An* here's to you, my friend sae true, May discord ne'er a feeling wound ! An* shou'd we flyte, ne'er harbour spite, But in a bowl be't quickly dvown'd. Blythe, Uijthe, S^g» Now rap' an* ring, an* gar them bring The biggest stoupfu' yet we've seen : Why shou'd v/e part, when hand an* heart. At ilka bumper grows mair keen^ Bljjtkej hlythey S^c. THE SPINNIN* O'T. Ai3..i!r^« Ttocli and the we pickle Todis Amang a* the wond'rous improvements e*er madCa What do ye now think o* tlie spinain* o*t i SCENES OF gloamin'. 27 That lountaln and prop o* our flourishin* trade, How cliang'd since the weary beginnm' o't! Wi* tlie rock and the spindle our grannies began, Neist at their wee wheelies they spat and they span ; O little thought they o*^ the beautiful plan. That now is spread wide for the spinnin* o't. On the palace-like fabric the travellers g'vze. And, wonderin*, spier for the meanin' o*t ; Its a* for the puspose, they learn wi* amaze, O* that noble art the spinnin* o*t And amang a* the elegance that it can shaw, There's the Lasses, sae healthy sae bonny an' braw, While cheerful contentment enlivens them a*, A»d endears every heart to the spinnin* o*t. The bosom where patriot liberty burns. Will fondly adore the rinnin* o't ; For our snug darling isle that a* slaver)' spurns. Would fa' gin it wanted the spinnin* o*t. Cou'd Britain proclaim a* the ocean her ain, Cou'd her sails ride triumphant o'er Neptune's domain, Proving a' the proud boasts o' her enemies vain. Gin it werena* the usefu* spinnin* o't. 2J5 SCENES OF GLOAM«yV Am Neil Com*^ uj^^e. Tmo' on my brow eat frowning care, The' pride should scorn, and malice sneer, The* worldly want should on me stare, The' friends were false, and foes were near ; Tlio* wrapt in nature*s bleakest storm, And winter wak'd her wildest cry, Still, if thy breast to me Is warm. These iils I boldly could defy. Then, dearest idol of my heart. Doom net thy vot'ry to despair ; What heavenly joy it would impart, Wert thou as kind as thou art fair ! GUID SCOTS WHISKY. A IK — N. Gorc*5 Lament. GuiB Whisky, thou's been sair miscu't, And often said to be the faut 0' doin' ill, but I'll thee daut, Thou chief c' spirits, W^hisky O. SCENE"? OF GLOAMIn'. 29 Tliey wha wou'J hac you quick dispelled. Your fauts they hae in public tell'd ; But ithcr spirits they've upheld. Base trash to ©ur ain Whisky O. Macxeii> cries down our favourite Bard, Which in our ears sounds unco hard ; Had our ain Buuns sic nonsense heard ; He'd playM the loon a plisky 0. Gie Hectou rum or brandy drink, Till he in Pandemonium sink, Monro, at last, for fear he stink, Will soak him wccl vvi' W^hisky O. Then come, ilk Scotsman, tak' 3'our glass. And drink to Kate, to Jean, and Jess ; 'Twill banish far frae us distress, A wee drap guid Scots Whisky O. Some bards I ken o' sterling sense, Kilbagie drives their sorrows hence; Their grammar needs nae presert tense. When blest wi' that noun Whisky O ,^/;->;^%^ '30 SCENES OF GLOA:«Ii?A % Air Caldcr Fair, .Come join me ilka social soul Wha tastes o' cheerin' pleasures, Behold tlie reamin' nappy bowl, An' hearken to its treasures ; The caukl unfeeling heart it warms. The vv^isest head it brightens ; It makes us bear ftffliction's storms, An' ilka joy it heightens. Wljen lads an' lasses chance to meet At bridal, fair or dancin'. The £i-iile o' love is ne'er sae sweet Till nappy's weel advancin'. But then ilk Billy grasps his lass, She pliable an' grantin', An' toorain' out the tither glass. They're roarin' and they're rantin*. An* when the glow o' youth has gane, An' sober sense replac'd it, In time o' need folk's unco fain For friendly aid to taste it : SCENES OF GLOAMIX*. 31 An* wint'ry age, wi' frosty scowl. An* ev'ry pow'r decliiun*, Is melted by the kindly bonl, An' looks like simmer shiain*. There's some will cant an* mak* a wark, An' canna prie a drap o't. But when alane, or in the dark. Can sweetly toom a cap o't; But we, in love and fiiendsliip free. Will round the table hand it ; I'll drink to you, an' you to me, As lang's we're fit to itand it. WILLY AND MARY. Air — Logan Braes\ Sweet Simmer now approaches (as^. Exulting o'er the wintry blast, The Shepherd lads are seen to stray, An' flocks heard bleat on ilka brae. Tiie black bird on the bending thorn, Now gaily welcomes in the morn, He seeks his mate in yonder grove. An' lists her y,i sweet sangs o' love. The fields a cheering aspect wear, A' nature seems to be in steer ! 32 SCEMES OF GLOAMIN . The warblers tunc thtif little throats. Exciting love wi a' their notes; O Mary dear, hear how the thrush, IIovv sweet his sang frae thorny bush, We'll range the woods whe»e stands the bower. Twill sh:ide ye frae the sunny shower. Or aiblins we'll to yon burn^ilde. The stately Aik will Mary hide. There nane but Gupid can us see. Or Lambkins sportin' on the lea. O come, my Mary, let us gac, O hear how Colin tunes iiis lay ! He tunes his pipe to Logan braes, "VVhar Swains o' auld hae gather'd slacs.* ♦ To a worthy friend in Auld Reelcy, Mr. Wm. I'linibnigh, thU trifle is particularly addressed as a small token of remembrance. BONNY Lx\SS O' ALLAN WATER, Air — Rnys ivife. Bonny lass o' Allan "abater, Stueetest maid o Allan tvaieXf JV/ia can excel my I sal elf My blooming J? Oliver o Allan water. sce'nks of gLoamin'. 33 Let distant Bards etvange beauties praise, Believe me, maiden?, they bat flatter ; For worth thal's rare, and beauty fair. Is only four^d near Allan water. OSSIAN'sHARP. *'' Air — John o' Badfn^on. When Fingal dwelt in Morve ti's hallj And tiiumpli'd o'er the Dane, Sweet Ossian tun'd his harp and sung The herot's deathless name. Now to his airy halls he's gone. Of which he often sung ; Macpherson has his thoughts embaln.'J, That charm the old and youPL'. In later times our Burns arose, Piide of auld Coila's plains, And sung the fears, the hope?, and joys, Of simple country swains. For every social feeling fnm'd. That clignKies the breast. An'} m.T,ly sen?r, and lively '.vft, Tlis every thought cxprest. ^ SCENES OF alOAMIN:'. THE ANNANDALE MOURNER. Am — Caledonian Hunt's Delight, Beneath these lanely birken shades, Unnotic'd, let me vent my woe ; Nae sound the stillness here invades, Save Annan's murm'ring wave belovr. Thou Moon, that blink'st yon elouds amang, Or fling'st thy mildness o'er the dale ! Aft hast thou heard my waefu' sang, As wafted by the evening gale. Aft hae I stray'd beneath thy beam, Wi' Sandy down tills lanely grove; Aft listcn'd to Uiis soothing stream, Or heard the courtship o' the dove. But wae's me, Sandy now is gane I He slumbers on Corrunna shore. Where thousands o' the gallant slain Surround the hallow'd corpse o' Moore, Few hinnied v^eeks had e'er us past, An' Sandy join'd his hand v/i' mine. Till bugles rais'd the cruel blast. An* bade him rank in dreadfu' line. Our woes and vows on yonder brae We pour*J frae hearts to love sae true ', SCENES OF GLOAMIij'. SS Tlie warrior wip'd his tears away We kiss'd again, and sigh'd Adieu! My Sandy ! round thy lowly bod May vernal snawdraps firi-t appear, And Ev'ning's tears upon thee shed The grief thy widow offers here. May Heav'n thy darling babbie spare, Wha ne'er beheld his father's smile, ' To claim his mother's constunt care. And a' her pensive hours beguile ! A WORTHY CLERGYMAN'S COMPLAINT. AiB.,.Sic a XKtfe as I hue. When Fate her keenest arrow Prepares to kill the peace of life, She kens the poison'd sorrow Is warst when sent in shape o* U'j/t'. "When first I saw my darling Fair, Array'd in every angel charm. My senses fled, I wistna where, My heart beat high wi' transport waca, J, courting, thoi'd he» scorn and rage. Content gin she would just be mine : J3^lt sic a wife as I hae ! O how sair I*ve rusd sinsyne ! 36 SCENES OF GLOAMIN*. We v.x'dilcd,— and like thunder Sho roar'd thro' a' the hinny-moon ; Thought I, the beauty's wonder Maua not be cantrar*d yet so sune ; But I ntiot week will play my part ; That week gaed by — 'twas siill the same jik day 1 fand jcy coward heart Sink deeper in the gulph o' shame. The mair 1 staiJ, the mair afraid Was I to break my galling chain. Oh ! sic a wife as I hae ! Oh ! how bitter is the pain ! At length quite broken-hearted. Hex wiliing slave I snool an* bow ; Manhood shook hands and parted, Then I was curst as I am now. She eats, she drinks, she dresses fine. While, starv'd hi rags, I toil right sair ; Aa'tho* I never dare repine. She scaulds and banns for ever mair. Tho* mute an* trembling I obey, Wi' mony a blow she gars me cry. Oh > sio a wife as I hae ! Sic a wretched man am 1 1 Youth, beware o* beauty. Beware o* love, and think o' me; Ivlak reason do her duty, Nor wed to please the naked e*fli S<,ENES OF GLOAMIN'j 37 y SiC dazzling love can never last ; The ruin'd wretch soon coines to ken, Remorse and sorrow fill his breast, Whene'er the trail delusion's gan*. An' §hoii'd ye marry — O beware— At Jirsi stand up, be firm an' free ^ An' let the wife that I hae A usefu', — awfu* lesson be ! JOHNNY BELL'S COURTSHIP^ Air The ivooin^ o*t» Winter's snaws were scarce begun. When Johnny gaed a-wooin* o*t ; A wife he'd hae by April's sun, To cheer his heart when ploughin* o't« He drest himsel' in hodden grey, Wi* bonnet blue coft last Fair day : Red gartens round his knees did play. To tempt the lass when wooin* o't. When he cam' t© his Maggy's door, (O the gift o' wooin' o't.) The lassie kent the promiat hour. But she kept busy sewin* o't. The auld mfe crie«y Meg, hjiste and rii)| D is sc£nes ov cloamin". Ths ram rains sair, gac let him in ; To keep him out would be a sin — O the gift o' -Hooin' o't. Then Meg ran to the door wi* speed ; (O the sweets o* wooin* o't.) Before he spake her mou* he pried ; (O the gift o* wooin* o't.) •She led him to tlie farest ben, Wliere sat the favorite tappet hen, Wi* birds about her nine or ten. True emblems o* the wooin* o*t. Now Maggy lass, do ye like me ? (O the gift o' wooin* o't) The auld wife sleely masks the tea. To cheer the hours o' wooin' o't. Her answer was, Fye, Johnny Bell ! The auld wife cries. Dame, quick and tell , The lad looks well — he's like yoursel, (O! sweet's the hours o' wooin* o't.) The auW wife hands the tea right fell, (O the gift o' wooin o't) And 1V0W but she was faio to tell She had her days o' wooin' o't. Oh my dear Rob, wha sleeps in clay ! To think on hira my heart grows wae—* He lookM sae weel, and aye was gay, And spent hia daya in wooin* o't SCENES OF CLOAMIn', tQ Tlie tea is o'er the aulcl wife gaen, (O the gift o' w-Qoin' o't) Her a'ose:ice was to them nae pain, (Q the sweets o' wooin' o't) Then John fell to his Meg fu' fain, And kisst her o'er and o'er again ; And swore he'd lie nae mair his lane— (O the sweets o* wooin' o*t.) The day was fixt for Mess John's ties, (O the gift o' wooin o*t) Then beef and greens, wi' mutton pyes Did grace the board o' wooin' o't. Now John lives wi' his Meg fu' leel, An' nine months brought a dainty chiel'. An' hours o' pleasure round them reel, The fruits o' their short wooin' o't. EPITAPH WRITTEN BY BuRNS, INTENDED FOR HIS ^RIEKD, Mk. ^V^r. NicaoL. Ye maggots feed on Willie's brains, For few sic feasts ye'vc gotten ; An' fix your claws into his heart. For Rent a 'pit o'l's rotten. 2 D EGBERT AND EIRTII/.. A BALLAD. |by an old fiucnd.] THE early dawn row rose apace O'er Elton's goodly phin: t'air Birtha wept, and cried, " Alas I Ivjy Egbert sure is slain ! " Thrice hath tke morning chac'd the nij^'iJ, Since o'er the dale he rode. For Harold and his Prince to fight. And left this fair abode. *' Ah ! when my Egbert srait'd and said,^ What needs fair Birtha moiurn ? I trust, e'er evening spreads its shade, In triumph to return. " But night is past, the world has skpL, And morning comes again ; And long, long hath his Bi;tha wept-— Alas ! my Love is slain 1 '* Go dress to mc my gentle steed. That iournevs last and free : SCENES OF GLOAMKV'. 41 To Hastings will I riJe with speed, Fair Elton's Lord to sec.'' The steed was brought— •the steed was sleek J The maid i"n rich array ; But briny tears bedew'd licr cheek, , When sad she rode away. And long she rode, and wond'rous fj.st. While beat her b-ftjast with tear; And tv'ry mile her courier past, * She hop'd her Love was near. At length a warlike chief was seen ; He hied across the plain ; **Hast thou," she said, "at Hastings been. Oh ! is my Egbert slain ?" ** O Lady, if thy Love was there, 1 fear he breathes no more : For many a youthful face and fair. Is there begrim'ul with gore ! ** There many an eye is clos'd in night. Which once the morn outskone ; And Harold lies amidst the fight, W'ho lately fiU'd a throne.'' " And is my Egbert slain!" she crieS, *' And fell iiry yodth so brare 42 SCENES OF GLCAMIS'. ' My own — my clearest Egbert dies — Nor Birtha near his grave !" Now swifter spurri'd her steed the groundj. Till Hastings was in view, Where many a Lord of fair renown Had sigh'd his last adieu. Jl^cross the desolated plain A youthful peasant sped ! "Oh ! tell me is my Egbert slain ? Or has my Egbert fled ?"' **Near yonder tow'r, fair Lady, passVi Fair Elton's Lord and pride : His weary steed he spurr'd fidl fast. And reach'd yon valley's side ; ** But there a num'rous Norman band Opposed his timely fliglu, — He made a long and valiant stand ; But sunk, fatigu'd, in fight.'' ' " Say, glaw'd his cheek with manly grace i"- Or frown'd he when in war ? And sunk to earth that princely face Oppress'd with wound or scar ?" *'0 Lady! 'twas fair Elton's Lord, Mis htlni with gold was bound ; SCENtS OF CI.OAMI.S'. 4'2i Hti cmcrald-liiheci failhful sword Had drauk of many a wound, •' The steed lie rode was milky wlike^ And gaily deck'd his mane ; But with his Lord he fell in fight — The stateliest steed was slain." ** Ard is my Egbert i-lain ?"' she cried ; While wept the maid full sore ; And has he here in battle died i And lives my Love no more ? ** Oh, am I fbrc'd, in early bloom To bear thee cold away ? To yield thee to the greed)- tomby Too brave, too fair a prey ! ** Had I thy virtues never known^ Thy death I might sustain ; And might thy mangled corpse disown. Extended on the plain. ** But, sure, thou wast the mildest yoiuh That e'er a maiden prest ; For honour, virtue, love and truth, Resided in thj- breast ** And 'till the shaft ot death must part A heart that loves sac true, 44 SCENES OF GLOAMIN'. I'll wear Uk'C, F'Ljhcrf, iifixt this lieart, And thcn—rii t',.Ih)-.v you." •* Thy Egbert lives," the peasant cries, Aiid i'el! upon his knee, " Behold tb.y love in this disguise. — Behold thy love in Die." The maiden shiiek'd, a-nd swoon'd awny, And in his arms she fell ; But of their raut'-ial joy that day, Are none alive to tell. ARGUMENT. That the language conferred by the Almighty upon our first parents, ana tiieir immediate descendants, was highly f gurative and poetical, can scarcely be disputed. To prove that poetry is the language of nature, let us only attend to the information received through the meuiftm of our Navigators, Travellers, and Historians, concerning ihe original inhabitants of America, and the South Sea islands- We find that the speech or dia- lect of the former, is strong, nervous, an(i replete with bold poetical imagery ; and that of the latter, soft, sono- rous, and strikingly musical. That Poetry has been admired and respected in all ageif^saxd amongst every SCENES OF CroAJflN'. 45 ijation in the known world, is a fuct that tlie most har- dy Sceptic will scarcely dare to controvert. — That Scot- land for several ccnturit-s past, has been the only coun- try in Europe, where that sublime Art has been most assiduously pursued, is ;i stubborn truth that will mt be easily overturned. Whether the above fact is to be im- puted to physical, moral, or local causes, we shall leav6 to modern Philosophers to dcfirre. It has long become proverbial that poetrj' and pover- ty are so nearly connected with one another, that they are almost become synonimous terms ; the truth of which lias been too frequently experienced by many an uafor- lunate son of Parnassus. Men cf genius are seldom kaown to be strict adherents to the rigid rules of econ- omy or prudence, their thoughts and actions being gen- erally so diametrically opposite to the society of which they are member?, thut iiutcad of becoming objects of esteem and pit}', they are more apt to become the butts of contempt and ridicule. Many an iliustriou? son of the muses, wliose works have done honor to human nature, and whose nnme will be Iiaiuicd down to the latest pos- terity, has been ailoued obscurely to pine through life, unfriended b}- his contemporaries, and to slip out of the world unpiiicd, unnoticed, and unknown. It can scarcely be doubted, ihat a true poet must he born such, and tl-ic rays of native genius will be scon through every cloud which cm envelope them. Those? properties of the toul which qualify a human bsjing f )r this cliarming art, are too (U'lcrito and fn^c to admit of ^Q SCENf.S OP GLOAMIN". definition ; but certain it is, that education boasts of no omnipotence here. When nature has endowed llie bartl, a. compensation will easily be found for the want of that polish which learning gives. But it must be lamented, that so many possessing no spark of poetical fire, and destitute of all knowledge of their native language, should , divert their attention from useful purposes, by ham« meritsg rhymes, which, the moment they are exposed, irke bodies that cannot bear the air, sink from existence into merciful oblivion. Thfs multiplicitj'^ of rhyme is productive of another serions evil. The public have been so often insulted with unintelligible trash, that few of a refined taste will peruse a single page of an unknov/n bard. He is, there- fore, though woi thy of a better fate, consigned to the same obscurity — neglect is his sole reward, and disap- pointment all his portion. Thus when a transient flowar of sweetness springs in the uncultivated wild, its modest bud is choaked by the rank and presumptive v.eeds that shoot around it ; the eye of discernment seeks it not there, and, denied the beams of the fostering sun, it sickens and withers awn.y. > INDEX. FAOE Pbeiach ---,----.--_. 3 "Now, dearest Jessy .--....... 5 O wild beats my heart -------.. 7 O Peggy, could I tell -----»--. g Early days- --------.--_]() Melville Katie -11 What is vict'ry -.---..,_... 22 Leven Streams ...........13 iLore never mair ----"----..15 Anniver^sary Song .->■... .^.26 Gard'ner Tammie --------,.28 The bonny lass o* Cranstonhill- --....29 A farewell Song -------- -..20 How sweet on Leven's ------. ..2I By the green verdant banks -------. 2S Blythe, blythe, and happy --.-,-..25 The Spinnin' o't. --.--...«. 26 Tho' on my brow -----,-..,,28 Guid Scots Whisky ----- - - - - . i^. Come join me •----.>.. ..39 Willy and Mary •a* 48 INUES. PAGK r>on..Y Lass o' Allan Water - - 32 Ossian's H- 33 '^ rner -.--.---34. \ ^ I'a Complaint ----- 35 .luwiuiy iJtH's