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TUNE" Bonnie Dundee.” True hearted was he, the sad swain o' the Yarrow,
And fair are the maids on the banks o' the Ayr; But by the sweet side of the Nith's winding river,
Are lovers as faithful, and maidens as fair. To equal young Jessie seek Scotland all over;
To equal young Jessie you seek it in vain: Grace, beauty, and elegance, fetter her lover,
And maidenly modesty fixes the chain. .
And sweet is the lily at evening close;
Unseen is the lily, unheeded the rose.
Enthron'd in her een he delivers his law: And still to her charms she alone is a stranger !
Her modest demeanour's the jewel of a'.
THE POSIE. O LOVE will venture in where it darena weel be seen; O luve will venture in, where wisdom ance has been; But I will down yon river rove,amang 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 Phæbus peeps in view, For it's like a balmy kiss o' her sweet bonnie mou; The hyacinth's 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 a” to be a posie to my ain dear. May.'
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 re
muve, And this will be a posie to my ain dear May.
THE FLOWERS OF THE FOREST.
Lasses a' lilting, before dawn of day;
The flowers of the forest are a' wede awae.
Lasses are lonely, and dowie, and wae;
Ilk ane lifts her leglin, and hies her awae.
In har’st at the shearing, nae youths now are jeering;
Bandsters are runkled, and lyart or gray;
The flowers of the forest are a wede awae.
At e'en, in the gloaming, nae younkers are roaming
'Bout stacks, with the lasses at bogle to play; But ilk maid sits dreary, lamenting her dearie
The flowers of the forest are weded awae. Dool and wae for the order, sent our lads to the border!
The English, for ance, by guile wan the day; The flowers of the forest, that fought aye the foremost,
The prime of our land, are cauld in the clay. We'll hear nae mair lilting, at the ewe milking;
Women and bairns are heartless and wae: Sighing and moaning, on ilka green loaning,
The flowers of the forest are a' wede awae. *
Upon a morning early,
From flowers which grew so rarely;
* It appears that this song, although usually thought to be older than the one beginning-I've seen the smiling, &c. and in which, as Mr. Scott expresses it, “the manner of the ancient Minstrels is so happily imitated,” is yet in reality of a later date. Respecting the author, Mr. Scott, in his Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, merely informs us, “ that it was composed by a lady of family in Roxburghshire; but Mr. RAMSAY of Ochtertyre, as quoted in the Life of Burns, states, that it was writ. ten by the sister of Sir GILBERT Elliot, and fixes the date of it to about 1755. Mr. Ramsay also, as well as Mr. Scott, supposes it to have been written with a reference to the depopulation of the border districts, and particularly of those about Ettrick Forest, occasioned by the battle of Flodden; and he adds, “in spite of the double rhymes, it is a sweet, and, though in some parts allegorical, a natural expression of national sorrow.”
I chanc'd to meet a pretty maid,
My name is Kath'rine Ogie.
To see a nymph so stately;
In a country maid so neatly :-
Like lilies in a bogie;
Like this same Kath'rine Ogie.
Who sees thee sure must prize thee; Though thou art drest in robes but mean,
Yet these cannot disguise thee;
Excels each clownish rogie;
My charming Kath’rine Ogie...
In milking to abide thee.
Wi' Kate, my club, and dogie,
Had I but Kath'rine Ogie.
And statesmen's dang'rous stations,
I'd smile at conqu’ring nations,
This lass of whom I'm vogie;
Compar'd with Kath'rine Ogie.
I fear the gods have not decreed
For me so fine a creature,
All other works in nature.d e
That are both dark and foggie; hua
* The superior excellence of this beautiful poem has been universally admitted; yet few or none of the productions of BURNS have been more rigorously criticised. When the Bard first sent it to Mr. THOMPSON for insertion in his Musical work,