Yes, Mary, tho' the winds shou'd rave
Wi' jealous spite to keep me frae thee,
The darkest stormy night I'd brave

For ae sweet secret moment wi' thee.

Loud o'er Cardonald's rocky steep

Rude Cartha pours in boundless measure; But I will ford the whirling deep

That roars between me and my treasure. Yes, Mary, tho' the torrent rave

With jealous spite to keep me frae thee, Its deepest flood I'd bauldly brave For ae sweet secret moment wi' thee.

The watch-dog's howling loads the blast,
And makes the nightly wand'rer eerie;
But when the lonesome way is past,
I'll to this bosom clasp my dearie.
Yes, Mary, tho' stern winter rave
With a' his storms to keep me frae thee,
The wildest dreary night I'd brave
For ae sweet secret moment wi' thee.

THE LASS OF ARRANTEENIE.

ROBERT TANNAHILL.

Far lone, amang the Highland hills,
'Midst Nature's wildest grandeur,

By rocky dens, and woody glens,
With weary steps I wander :

The langsome way, the darksome day,
The mountain mist sae rainy,

Are nought to me, when gaun to thee,
Sweet lass of Arranteenie.

Yon mossy rose-bud down the howe,
Just op'ning fresh and bonnie,
Blinks sweetly 'neath the hazel bough,
And's scarcely seen by ony:
Sae sweet amidst her native hills
Obscurely blooms my Jeanie,
Mair fair and gay than rosy May,
The flower of Arranteenie.

Now, from the mountain's lofty brow,
I view the distant ocean;

There avarice guides the bounding prow,
Ambition courts promotion.-
Let fortune pour her golden store,
Her laurell'd favours many,
Give me but this, my soul's first wish,
The lass of Arranteenie.

THE EVENING STAR.

JOHN LEYDEN.

Born 1775-Died 1811.

How sweet thy modest light to view,

Fair star!-to love and lovers dear; While trembling on the falling dew, Like beauty shining through the tear;

Or hanging o'er that mirror-stream

To mark each image trembling there,Thou seem'st to smile with softer gleam To see thy lovely face so fair

Though blazing o'er the arch of night,
The moon thy timid beams outshine,
As far as thine each starry night—
Her rays can never vie with thine.
Thine are the soft enchanting hours,
When twilight lingers on the plain,
And whispers to the closing flow'rs
That soon the sun will rise again.

Thine is the breeze that, murmuring, bland
As music, wafts the lover's sigh,
And bids the yielding heart expand
In love's delicious ecstacy.

Fair star! though I be doom'd to prove

That rapture's tears are mix'd with pain; Ah! still I feel 'tis sweet to loveBut sweeter to be lov'd again.

GOOD NIGHT, AND JOY BE WI' YOU A'.

SIR ALEXANDER BOSWELL.

Born 1775-Killed 1822.

Good night, and joy be wi' ye a';

my

Your harmless mirth has cheer'd May life's fell blasts out o'er ye blaw ! In sorrow may ye never part!

heart:

My spirit lives, but strength is gone;
The mountain-fires now blaze in vain :
Remember, sons, the deeds I've done,
And in your deeds I'll live again!

When on yon muir our gallant clan
Frae boasting foes their banners tore,
Wha show'd himself a better man,
Or fiercer way'd the red claymore?
But when in peace-then mark me there-
When through the glen the wand'rer came,
I gave him of our lordly fare,

I gave him here a welcome hame.

The auld will speak, the young maun hear;
Be cantie, but be good and leal;
Your ain ills, aye hae heart to bear,
Anither's aye hae heart to feel.
So, ere I set, I'll see you shine,
I'll see you triumph ere I fa';
My parting breath shall boast you mine—
Good night, and joy be wi' ye a'.

MY ONLY JO AND DEARIE, O.

RICHARD GALL.

Born 1776-Died 1801.

Thy cheek is o' the rose's hue,
My only jo and dearie, O;
Thy neck is o' the siller dew,
Upon the bank sae briery, O.

Thy teeth are o' the ivory,

O sweet's the twinkle o' thine ee:
Nae joy, nae pleasure blinks on me,
My only jo and dearie, O.

The birdie sings upon the thorn
Its sang o' joy, fu' cheery, O;
Rejoicing in the simmer morn,

Nae care to make it eerie, O.
Ah, little kens the sangster sweet,
Aught o' the care I hae to meet,
That gars my restless bosom beat,
My only jo and dearie, O!

When we were bairnies on yon brae,
And youth was blinkin' bonnie, O,
Aft we wad daff the lee lang day,

Our joys fu' sweet and monie, O.
Aft I wad chase thee ower the lea,
And round about the thorny tree;
Or pu' the wild flow'rs a' for thee,
My only jo and dearie, O.

I hae a wish I canna tine,

'Mang a' the cares that grieve me, 0; A wish that thou wert ever mine, And never mair to leave me, O; Then I wad daut the nicht and day, Nae ither warldly care I'd hae, Till life's warm stream forgat to play. My only jo and dearie, O.