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It gaed about the wifie's heart, and she began to spew, Oh ! quo' the wee wifeikie, I wish I binna fou.

I wish I binna fou, quo' she, I wish I binna fou,

Oh! quo' the wee wifeikie, I wish I binna fou.
If Johnnie find me barley-sick, I'm sure he'll claw my

skin;
But I'll lie down and tak a nap before that I gae in.
Sitting at the dyke-side, and taking o' her nap,
By came a packman wi' a little pack,

Wi a little pack, quo' she, wi' a little pack,

By came a packman wi' a little pack, He's clippit a' her gowden locks sae bonnie and sae lang; He's taen her purse and a' her placks, and fast awa he

ran; And when the wifie waken'd, her head was like a bee, Oh! quo' the wee wifeikie, this is nae me,

This is nae me, quo' she, this is nae me, Somebody has been felling me, and this is nae me. I met with kindly company, and birl'd my babee ! And still, if this be Bessikie, three placks remain wi' me: But I will look the pursie nooks, see gin the cunzie be; There's neither purse nor plack about me!-this is nae

me.

This is nae me, &c. But I have a little houseikie, but and a kindly man ; . A dog, they ca' him Doussiekie; if this be me he'll faun, And Johnnie, he'll come to the door, and kindly wel.

come gie, And a' the bairns on the floor will dance if this be me.

This is nae me, &c.' The night was late, and dang out weet, and oh but it

was dark; The doggie heard a body's foot, and he began to bark.'

Oh when she heard the doggie bark, and kenning it

was he, Oh well ken ye, Doussie, quo' she, this is nae me.

This is nae me, fc.
When Johnnie heard his Bessie's word, fast to the door

he ran ;
Is that you, Bessikie ?-Wow na, man!
Be kind to the bairns, and weel mat ye be;
And farewell, Johnnie, quo' she, this is nae me!

This is nae me, fc.
John ran to the minister, his hair stood a' on end,
I've gotten sic a fright, sir, I fear I'll never mend;
My wife's come hame without a head, crying out most

piteously, Oh farewell, Johnnie, quo' she, this is nae me!

This is nae me, fc. The tale you tell, the parson said, is wonderful to me, How that a wife without a head could speak, or hear,

or see! But things that happen hereabout, so strangely alter'd be, That I could almost wi' Bessie say, 'tis neither you nor

she. Neither you nor she, quo' he, neither you nor she,

Wow na, Johnnie man, 'tis neither you nor she. Now Johnnie he came hame again, and oh! but he

was fain,
To see his little Bessikie come to hersel again.
He got her sitting on a stool with Tibbek on her knee:
Oh! come awa, Johnnie, quo' she, come awa to me,
For I've got a nap wi' Tibbekie, and this is now me.

This is now me, quo' she, this is now me,
I've got a nap wi' Tibbekie, and this is now me. *

* This excellent song is said to be the composition of the learned Dr. ALEXANDER GEDDES, well known in the literary world for his translation of the Bible into English, and other works.

MARY-ANN. TUNE_" Captain OʻKean,” or The Wounded Hussar." WHILE Luna in splendor, wi' silver rays beaming, Illum'd, and in radiance adorn'd the green plain; And while sportive meteors aerial were streaming, I hied me alone to yon wild woody glen. Along the sweet margin of Glaizart's rough stream, A youth full of anguish his plaint thus began; The tears of affection made plain his connexion, While dolefu' he sung of his love Mary-Ann. Why, once peerless maid, hast thou left me to wander, 'Mid scenery sae beauteous thus cheerless to mourn: Unto these woods wild, thro' which riv'lets meander, O sweetest of maids ! wilt thou never return? Ah no! never mair shall I see thy lov'd form !In yon bless'd domain sae mysterious to man, (Nae cares thee annoying) thou’rt now peace enjoying, My lov'd, my lamented, my sweet Mary-Ann. Disconsolate now by these sweet banks o' Glaizart, Wi' my mind envelop'd amid clouds o' despair, I'll wander remote as if lone in some desart, And ’mang these wild scenes I'll bewail my lov'd fair. Now nothing, O wae's me! can soothe this my wo! When this he had breath'd out, his visage grew wan; While his eyes wild were beaming, I left him exclaiming, Adieu now earth's pleasures-farewell Mary-Ann. *

FAIREST OF THE FAIR.
O NANNIE, wilt thou gang wi' me,

Nor sigh to leave the flaunting town;
Can silent glens have charms for thee,

Thelowly cot, and russet gown?
* This piece is by the author of the Banks of Glaisart.

Nae langer drest in silken sheen,

Nae langer deck'd wi' jewels rare,
Say, canst thou quit each courtly scene,

Where thou wast fairest of the fair?
O Nannie, when thou'rt far awa,

Wilt thou not cast a look behind?
Say, canst thou face the flaky snaw,

Nor shrink before the warping wind?
O can that saft and gentlest mien,

Severest hardships learn to bear,
Nor sad regret each courtly scene,

Where thou wast fairest of the fair ?
O Nannie, canst thou love so true,

Thro' perils keen wi' me to gae?
Or when thy swain mishap shall rue,

To share with him the pang of wae.
And when invading pains befal,

Wilt thou assume the nurse's care,
Nor wishful those gay scenes recal,

Where thou wast fairest of the fair ?
And when at last thy love shall die,

Wilt thou receive his parting breath?
Wilt thou repress each struggling sigh,

And cheer with smiles the bed of death?
And wilt thou o'er his much-lov'd clay,

Strew flowers, and drop the tender tear?
Nor then regret those scenes so gay,

Where thou wast fairest of the fair ? *

* We are not aware under what particular circumstances this beautiful song was composed, nor who is the Nannie whom the learned author, Dr. PERCY, Editor of The Reliques of Ancient Poetry, is pleased to designate Fairest of the Fair. This, however, cannot lessen our interest in the delicate delineation of the sacrifices love demands from his captives, to put the disintereste eduess of their attachment to the test.

THE BIRKS OF INVERMAY. The smiling morn, the breathing spring, Invite the tuneful birds to sing, And while they warble from each spray, Love melts the universal lay. Let us, Amanda, timely wise, Like them improve the hour that flies, And in soft raptures waste the day, Amang the birks of Invermay.

The lav'rocks now, and lintwhites sing;
The rocks around with echoes ring;
The mavis, and the blackbird's lay,
In tuneful strains do glad the day;
The woods now wear their summer suits;
To mirth all nature now invites:
Let us be blythesome then, and gay,
Amang the birks of Invermay.

Behold the hills and vales around,
With lowing herds and flocks abound;
The wanton kids, and frisking lambs,
Gambol and dance about their dams;
The busy bees, with humming noise,
And all the reptile kind rejoice:
Let us, like them, then sing and play
About the birks of Invermay,

Hark, how the waters, as they fall,
Loudly my love to gladness call;
The wanton waves sport in the beams,
And fishes play throughout the streams;
The circling sun does now advance,
And all the planets round him dance:

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