BESS AND HER SPINNING-WHEEL.

TUNE-The Sweet Lass that Lo'es me.

O leeze me on my spinning-wheel,
O leeze me on my rock and reel;
Frae tap to tae that cleeds me bien,
And haps me fiel and warm at e'en!
I'll set me down and sing and spin,
While laigh descends the simmer sun,
Blest wi' content, and milk and meal-
O leeze me on my spinning-wheel!
On ilka hand the burnies trot,
And meet below my theekit cot;
The scented birk and hawthorn white,
Across the pool their arms unite,

comfortably

wraps-soft

low

Alike to screen the birdie's nest,

And little fishes' caller rest:

The sun blinks kindly in the biel',

Where blithe I turn my spinning-wheel.

On lofty aiks the cushats wail,
And echo cons the doolfu' tale;
The lintwhites in the hazel braes,
Delighted, rival ither's lays:
The craik amang the clover hay,
The paitrick whirrin' o'er the ley,
The swallow jinkin' round my shiel,
Amuse me at my spinning-wheel.
Wi' sma' to sell, and less to buy,
Aboon distress, below envy,

O wha wad leave this humble state,
For a' the pride of a' the great?
Amid their flaring, idle toys,
Amid their cumbrous, dinsome joys,
Can they the peace and pleasure feel
Of Bessy at her spinning-wheel?

cool
shed

wood-pigeons

linnets

landrail

NITHSDALE'S WELCOME HAME.

[Written when Lady Winifred Maxwell, the descendant of the forfeited Earl of Nithsdale, returned to Scotland and rebuilt Terregles House, in the Stewartry of Kirkcudbright. Captain Riddel of Glenriddel furnished the air to which Burns composed the verses.]

The noble Maxwells and their powers

Are coming o'er the Border,

And they'll gae bigg Terregles towers,
And set them a' in order.

'O thoughtless lassie, life's a faught;
The canniest gate, the strife is sair;
But aye fou han't is fechtin' best,

A hungry care 's an unco care.
But some will spend, and some will spare,
And wilfu' folk maun hae their will;
Syne as ye brew, my maiden fair,

Keep mind that ye maun drink the yill.'

'O gear will buy me rigs o' land,
And gear will buy me sheep and kye;
But the tender heart o' leesome luve
The gowd and siller canna buy.
We may be poor-Robbie and Ì,
Light is the burden luve lays on;
Content and luve brings peace and joy-
What mair hae queens upon a throne?'

wisest way

FAIR ELIZA,

[Burns composed this song to a Highland air which he found in Macdonald's collection. In the original manuscript, the name of the heroine is Rabina, which he is understood to have afterwards changed to Eliza, for reasons of taste. Mr Stenhouse relates, that the verses were designed to embody the passion of a Mr Hunter, a friend of the poet, towards a Rabina of real life, who, it would appear, was loved in vain, for the lover went to the West Indies, and there died soon after his arrival.]

Not the bee upon the blossom,
In the pride o' sunny noon;
Not the little sporting fairy,

All beneath the simmer moon:
Not the poet in the moment
Fancy lightens on his e'e,

Kens the pleasure, feels the rapture
That thy presence gies to me.

O LUVE WILL VENTURE IN.

TUNE-The Posie.

O luve will venture in where it daurna weel be seen;
O luve will venture in where wisdom ance has been;
But I will down yon river rove, among the wood sae green-
And a' to pu' a posie to my ain dear May.

The primrose I will pu', the firstling o' the year,
And I will pu' the pink, the emblem o' my dear;

For she's the pink o' womankind, and blooms without a peer—
And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May.

I'll pu' the budding rose, when Phoebus peeps in view,
For it's like a baumy kiss o' her sweet bonny mou';
The hyacinth for constancy, wi' its unchanging blue—
And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May.

The lily it is pure, and the lily it is fair,
And in her lovely bosom I'll place the lily there;
The daisy's for simplicity and unaffected air-
And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May.

The hawthorn I will pu' wi' its locks o' siller gray,
Where, like an aged man, it stands at break of day;
But the songster's nest within the bush I winna tak away-
And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May.

The woodbine I will pu' when the e'ening-star is near,
And the diamond draps o' dew shall be her een sae clear;
The violet 's for modesty, which weel she fa's to wear-
And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May.

I'll tie the posie round wi' the silken band o' luve,
And I'll place it in her breast, and I'll swear by a' above,
That to my latest draught o' life the band shall ne'er remove-
And this shall be a posie to my ain dear May.

THE BANKS OF DOON.

TUNE-Caledonian Hunt's Delight,

Ye banks and braes o' bonny Doon,
How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair;
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
And I sae weary fu' o' care!

Thou 'lt break my heart, thou warbling bird,
That wantons through the flowering thorn:
Thou minds me o' departed joys,

Departed-never to return!

Aft hae I roved by bonny Doon,

To see the rose and woodbine twine;
And ilka bird sang o' its luve,
And fondly sae did I o' mine.
Wi' lightsome heart I pou'd a rose,
Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree;
And my fause luver stole my rose,

But ah! he left the thorn wi' me.

This, it will be observed, is a second version of the ballad which Burns produced in 1787 upon the sad fate of Miss Peggy KAlthough none of Burns's songs has been more popular than this, one cannot but regret its superseding so entirely the original ballad, which in touching simplicity of expression is certainly much superior.

WILLIE WASTLE.

TUNE-The Eight Men of Moidart.

Willie Wastle dwalt on Tweed,

The spot they called it Linkum-doddie;
Willie was a wabster guid,

Could stown a clew wi' ony bodie.
He had a wife was dour and din,

Oh, Tinkler Madgie was her mither

Sic a wife as Willie had,

I wadna gie a button for her.

She has an e'e-she has but ane,

The cat has twa the very colour;
Five rusty teeth, forbye a stump,

A clapper-tongue wad deave a miller:
A whiskin' beard about her mou',
Her nose and chin they threaten ither-
Sic a wife as Willie had,

I wadna gie a button for her.

hard