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1 Written for Albyn's Anthology, vol. ii., 1818, and set to highly amused with a sly allusion to his two-fold character of music in Mr. Thomson's Collection, in 1822

Sheriff of Selkirkshire, and author-suspect of “Rob Roy," in · Caird signifies Tinker.

the chorus, 8 Mr. D. Thomson, of Galashiels, produced a parody on this song at an annual dinner of the manufacturers there,

Think ye, does the Shirra ken which Sir Walter Scott usually attended; and the Poet was

Rob M Gregor's come again ?"

I glance like the wildfire through country and town; Here little, and hereafter biiss,
I'm seen on the causeway-I'm seen on the down;

Is best from age to age.
The lightning that flashes so bright and so free,
Is scarcely so blithe or so bonny as me.

“ As Jeanie entered, she heard first the air, and then

a part of the chorus and words of what had been, What did ye wi’ the bridal ring-bridal ring—bridal perhaps, the song of a jolly harvest-home.”

ring? What did ye wi' your wedding ring, ye little cutty Our work is over- over now,

The goodman wipes his weary brow, I gied it till a sodger, a sodger, a sodger,

The last long wain wends slow away, I gied it till a sodger, an auld true love o' mine, 0.

And we are free to sport and play.

quean, 0?

Good even, good fair moon, good even to thee;
I prithee, dear moon, now show to me
The form and the features, the speech and degree,
Of the man that true lover of mine shall be.

The night comes on when sets the sun,
And labour ends when day is done.
When Autumn 's gone, and Winter 's come,
We hold our jovial harvest-home.

It is the bonny butcher lad,

That wears the sleeves of blue,
He sells the flesh on Saturday,

On Friday that he slew.

There is a bloodhound ranging Tinwald Wood,

There's harness glancing sheen; There's a maiden sits on Tinwald brae,

And she sings loud between.

“ The attendant on the hospital arranged her in her bed as she desired, with her face to the wall, and her back to the light. So soon as she was quiet in this new position, she began again to sing in the same low and modulated strains, as if she was recovering the state of abstraction which the interruption of her visitants had disturbed. The strain, however, was different, and rather resembled the music of the methodist hymns, though the measure of the song was similar to that of the former:”

Up in the air,
On my bounie grey mare,
And I see, and I see, and I see her yet.

In the bonnie cells of Bedlam,

Ere I was ane and twenty,
I had hempen bracelets strong,
And merry whips, ding-dong,

prayer and fasting plenty.

When the fight of grace fought,-
When the marriage vest is wrought,
When Faith has chased cold Doubt away,-
And Hope but sickens at delay,-
When Charity, imprisoned here,
Longs for a more expanded sphere;
Doff thy robs of sin and clay;
Christian, rise, and come away.

fragment of some old

My banes are buried in yon kirk-yard

Sae far ayont the sea,
And it is but my blithsome ghaist

That's speaking now to thee.

“ Her next seemed to be ballad :"

I'm Madge of the country, I'm Madge of the town,
And I'm Madge of the lad I am blithest to own-
The Lady of Beever in diamonds may shine,
But has not a heart half so lightsome as mine.

Cauld is my bed, Lord Archibald,

And sad my sleep of sorrow:
But thine sall be as sad and cauld,

My fause true-love! to-morrow,

And weep ye not, my maidens free,

Though death your mistress borrow;
For he for whom 1 die to-day,

Shall die for me to-morrow

I am Queen of the Wake, and I'm Lady of May,
And I lead the blithe ring round the May-pole to-

The wild-fire that flashes so fair and so free
Was never so bright, or so bonnie as me.

“ Again she changed the tune to one wilder, less monotonous, and less regular. But of the words only a fragment or two could be collected by those who listened to this singular scene :*?

He that is down need fear no fall,

He that is low no pride;
He that is humble ever shall

Have God to be his guide.

Proud Maisie is in the wood,

Walking so early;
Sweet Robin sits on the bush,

Singing so rarely.

Fulness to such a burthen is

That go on pilgrimage ;

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“ AND humming his rustic roundelay, the yeoman

went on his road, the sound of his rough voice gradu(1.)-CHAP. XIX.

ally dying away as the distance betwixt them inTo man, in this his trial state,

The privilege is given,
When lost by tides of human fate,

The monk must arise when the matins ring,
To anchor fast in Heaven.

The abbot may sleep to their chime;
Watts' Hymns. But the yeoman must start when the bugles sing,

'Tis time, my hearts, 'tis time.
(2.)-CHAP. XXII.
Law, take thy victim !- May she find the mercy There's bucks and raes on Billbope braes,
In yon mild heaven which this hard world denies There's a herd on Shortwood Shaw;

But a lily white doe in the garden goes,

She 's fairly worth them a'.

Chap. ii.
And Need and Misery, Vice and Danger, bind
In sad alliance, each degraded mind.

(4.)-CHAP. XXXV.
I beseech you —

“ With a quivering voice, and a cheek pale with These tears beseech you, and these chaste hands apprehension, Caleb faltered out the following lines :" woo you,

WHEN the last Laird of Ravenswood to Ravenswood That never yet were heaved but to things holy-

shall ride, Things like yourself-You are a God above us; Be as a God, then, full of saving mercy!

And wooe a dead maiden to be his bride,

He shall stable his steed in the Kelpie's flow,
The Bloody Brother.

And his name shall be lost for evermoe!
(5.)-CHAP. XLVI.

Chap. xviii.
Happy thou art! then happy be,

Nor envy me my lot;
Thy happy state I envy thee,

And peaceful cot.

(1.)-CHAP. VIII. Lady CC-.

The hearth in hall was black and dead,

No board was dight in bower within,

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Nor merry bowl nor welcome bed;

thirty inches in height, she accompanied it with her “ Here 's sorry cheer,” quoth the Heir of Linne. voice. The air was an ancient Gaelic melody, and the

Old Ballad,

words, which were supposed to be very old, were in [Altered from The Heir of Linne.”] the same language; but we subjoin a translation of

them, by Secundus M‘Pherson, Esq. of Glenforgen; (2.)-CHAP. XIV.

which, although submitted to the fetters of English As, to the Autumn breeze's bugle-sound,

rhythm, we trust will be found nearly as genuine as Various and vague the dry leaves dance their round; the version of Ossian by his celebrated namesake.” Or, from the garner-door, on æther borne, The chaff flies devious from the winnow'd corn;

1. So vague, so deviousy at the breath of heaven,

BIRDS of omen dark and foul, From their fix'd aim are mortal counsels driven. Night-crow, raven, bat, and owl,

Anonymous. Leave the sick man to his dream
(3.)–CHAP. XVII.

All night long he heard you scream.
Here is a father now,

Haste to cave and ruin'd tower,
Will truck his daughter for a foreign venture,

Ivy tod, or dingled-bower, Make her the stop-gap to some canker'd feud,

There to wink and mop, for, hark !
Or fling her o'er, like Jonah, to the fishes,

In the mid air sings the lark.
To appease the sea at highest.


Hie to moorish gills and rocks, (4.)--CHAP. XVIII.

Prowling wolf and wily fox, Sir, stay at home and take an old man's counsel: Hie ye fast, nor turn your view, Seek not to bask you by a stranger's hearth;

Though the lamb bleats to the ewe.
Our own blue smoke is warmer than their fire.

Couch your trains, and speed your flight,
Domestic food is wholesome, though 'tis homely, Safety parts with parting night;
And foreign dainties poisonous, though tasteful.

And on distant echo borne,
The French Courtezan. Comes the hunter's early horn.

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“TUNING her instrument, and receiving an assenting “ So saying, Annot Lyle sate down at a little dis- look from Lord Monteith and Allan, Annot Lyle exetance upon the bench on which Allan M'Aulay was cuted the following ballad, which our friend, Mr. placed, and tuning her clairshach, a small harp, about Secundus M.Pherson, whose goodness we had beford

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