The laverock sings among the clouds,
The lambs they sport so cheerie,
And I sit weeping by the birk;
O where art thou, my dearie!
Aft may I meet the morning dew,
Lang greet till I be weary;
Thou canna, winna, gentle maid!
Thou canna be my dearie.

[This sweet short song was published about the year 1790, The name which the author gave it was " Kinrara ;" and Kinrara was the summer residence of the late Duchess of Gordon, to whom he dedicated two volumes of verse.]

THE CUCKOO.

JOHN LOGAN.

Born 1748-Died 1788.

Hail, beauteous stranger of the grove !

Thou messenger of spring!
Now heaven repairs thy rural seat,

And woods thy welcome sing.

What time the daisy decks the green
Thy certain voice we hear :
Hast thou a star to guide thy path,
Or mark the rolling year ?

Delightful visitant! with thee
I hail the time of flowers,

And hear the sound of music sweet
From birds among the bowers.

The schoolboy, wandering through the wood

To pull the primrose gay,

Starts, the new voice of spring to hear,

And imitates thy lay.

What time the pea puts on the bloom

Thou fliest thy vocal vale,

An annual guest in other lands,
Another spring to hail.

Sweet bird, thy bower is ever green,

Thy sky is ever clear;

Thou hast no sorrow in thy song,
No winter in thy year.

O could I fly, I'd fly with thee!
We'd make, with joyful wing,
Our annual visit o'er the globe,
Companions of the spring.

[The last verse but one of this song is inexpressibly beautiful, no poet has praised the Cuckoo in lines so deserving of popularity as Logan :

O Cuckoo, may I call the bird,

Or but a wandering voice.

WORDSWOTH]

ALONE BY THE LIGHT OF THE MOON.

JOHN LOGAN.

The day is departed, and round from the cloud
The moon in her beauty appears;

The voice of the nightingale warbles aloud
The music of love in our ears.

Maria, appear! now the season so sweet
With the beat of the heart is in tune;
The time is so tender for lovers to meet
Alone by the light of the moon.

I cannot when present unfold what I feel:
I sigh-can a lover do more?

Her name to the shepherds I never reveal,
Yet I think of her all the day o'er.
Maria, my love! do you long for the grove?
Do you sigh for an interview soon?

Does e'er a kind thought run on me as you rove
Alone by the light of the moon?

Your name from the shepherds whenever I hear
My bosom is all in a glow;

Your voice, when it vibrates so sweet through mine ear,
My heart thrills-my eyes overflow.

Ye powers of the sky, will your bounty divine

Indulge a fond lover his boon?

Shall heart spring to heart, and Maria be mine,
Alone by the light of the moon?

ROY'S WIFE OF ALDIVALLOCH.

Roy's wife of Aldivalloch !

Roy's wife of Aldivalloch!
Wat ye how she cheated me

As I came o'er the braes of Balloch?
She vowed, she swore she wad be mine,
Said that she lo'ed me best of ony;
But, oh! the fickle, faithless quean,
She's ta'en the carle and left her Johnie.

As I came o'er the braes of Balloch?

She was a kind and cantie

queen,

Weel could she dance the highland walloch;
How happy I, had she been mine,

Or I'd been Roy of Aldivalloch !

Roy's wife of Aldivalloch!

Roy's wife of Aldivalloch!

Wat

ye how she cheated me

As I came o'er the braes of Balloch?
Her hair sae fair, her een sae clear,
Her wee bit mou sae sweet and bonnie!
To me she ever will be dear,

Though she's for ever left her Johnie.

["Mr. Cromek, an anxious inquirer into all matters illustrative of northern song, ascribes Roy's Wife of Aldivalloch, to Mrs. Murray of Bath; while George Thomson, and all other editors of Scottish song, impute it to Mrs. Grant of Carron. I am not aware that the authorship has been settled-and I am sorry for it; because whoever wrote it has favoured us with a very sprightly and pleasant production.”— CUNNINGHAM.]

HER ABSENCE WILL NOT ALTER ME.

Though distant far from Jessy's charms,
I stretch in vain my longing arms;
Though parted by the deeps of sea,
Her absence shall not alter me.

Though beauteous nymphs I see around,

A Chloris, Flora, might be found,
Or Phillis with her roving e'e;
Her absence shall not alter me.

A fairer face, a sweeter smile,
Inconstant lovers may beguile;
But to my lass I'll constant be,
Nor shall her absence alter me.
Though laid on India's burning coast,
Or on the wide Atlantic tost,

My mind from love no power could free,
Nor could her absence alter me.

See how the flow'r that courts the sun
Pursues him till his race is run;

See how the needle seeks the pole,
Nor distance can its power control:
Shall lifeless flow'rs the sun pursue,
The needle to the pole prove true,
Like them shall I not faithful be,
Or shall her absence alter me?

Ask, who has seen the turtle-dove
Unfaithful to its marrow prove!
Or who the bleating ewe has seen
Desert her lambkin on the green ?
Shall beasts and birds, inferior far
To us, display their love and care?
Shall they in union sweet agree,
And shall her absence alter me?

For conq'ring love is strong as death,
Like veh❜ment flames his pow'rful breath;
Through floods unmov'd his course he keeps,
Ev'n through the sea's devouring deeps.