And manag'd the matter I cannot tell how,
But yesterday made her his bride.

SONG

CCLI.

ETRICK BANK S.

N Etrick Banks, in a fummer's night,

ON

At glowman when the sheep drive hame,

I met my laffie braw and tight,

Come wading barefoot a' her lane:
My heart grew light, I ran, I flang
My arms about her lily neck,
And kifs'd and clapp'd there fu' lang,
My words they were na mony feck.

I faid, my laffie, will you go,

To the Highland hills the Earfe to learn? I'll baith gi'e thee a cow and ewe,

When ye come to the brig of Earn.
At Leith auld meal comes in, ne'er fath,
And herrings at the Broomie law ;
Chear up your heart, my bonny lafs,
There's gear to win we never faw.

All day when we have wrought enough,
When winter frofts and fnaw begin,
Soon as the fun gets weft the loch,

At night when you fit down to fpin,
I'll fcrew my pipes, and play a spring;
And thus the weary night we'll end,
Till the tender kid and lamb-time bring
Our pleasant summer back again.

Syne when the trees are in their bloom,
And gowans glent o'er ilka field,

I'll meet my

laffie amang the broom, And lead you to my fummer fhield.

Then far frae a' their fcornfu' din,

That make the kindly hearts their sport, We'll laugh, and kifs, and dance, and fing, And gar the langeft day feem fhort.

S ON G CCLII.

THE PADLOCK TO KEEP A WIFE TRUE.

INCE artists, who fue for the trophies of fame, Their wit, and their tafte, and their genius proclaim, Attend to my fong, where you'll certainly find A fecret disclos'd for the good of mankind; And deny it who can, fure the laurel's my dueI've found out a padlock to keep a wife true.

Should the amorous goddess prefide o'er your dame, With the ardours of youth all her paffions inflame; Should her beauty lead captive each softer defire, And languishing lovers ftill figh and admire; Yet fearlefs you'd truft her, tho' thousands may fue, When I tell you my padlock to keep a wife true.

Tho' the husband may think that he wifely restrains With his bars and his bolts, his confinement and chains; How artfully weak muft his artifice prove!

Can fetters of fteel bind like fetters of love?
Throw jealoufy hence, bid fufpicion adieu;
Reftraint's not the padlock to keep a wife true.

-Should her fancy invite to the park or the play,
All-complying and kind you must give her her way;
While her taste and her judgement you fondly approve,
'Tis reafon fecures you the treasures of love:
And, believe me, no coxcomb admiffion can find,
For the fair one is fafe, if you padlock her mind.

Tho' her virtues with foibles should frequently blend, Let the husband be loft in the lover and friend;

Let doubts and furmifes no longer perplex,

'Tis the charms of indulgence that bind the foft sex; They ne'er can prove falfe while this maxim's in view; Good-humour's the padlock to keep a wife true.

THE CONTENTED MAID.

LET me live removed from poide

Remov'd from scenes of pride and ftrife,

And only tafte thefe tranquil joys

Which Heaven beftows on rural life!
Innocence fhall guide my youth,
Whilft nature's path I ftill purfue;
Each step I take be mark'd with truth,
And virtue ever be my view.

Adieu, ye gay, adieu ye great,
I fee you all without a figh;
Contented with my happier fate,
In filence let me live and die!

Sweet peace I'll court to follow me,
And woo the graces to my cell,

For all the graces love to be

Where innocence and virtue dwell.

S. ON G

CCLIV.

SHEPHERD ADONIS.

ΤΗ

HE Shepherd Adonis being weary'd with fport, He for a retirement to the woods did refort, He threw by his club, and he laid himself down; He envy'd no monarch, nor wish'd for a crown.

He drank of the burn, and he ate frae the tree; Himself he enjoy'd, and frae trouble was free.

T

He wish'd for no nymph, though never fae fair,
Had nae love or ambition, and therefore nae care.

But as he lay thus, in an ev'ning fae clear, A heav'nly sweet voice founded faft in his ear, Which came frae a fhady green neighbouring grove, Where bonny Amynta fat finging of love.

The nymph fhe beheld him with a kind modest grace, Seeing fomething that pleas'd her appear in his face ; With blushing a little she unto him did say,

O fhepherd! what want ye? how came you this way.

His fpirits reviving, he to her reply'd,

I was ne'er fae furpris'd at the fight of a maid.
Until I beheld thee, from love I was free;
But now I'm ta'en captive, my faireft, by thee.

HAT beauties does Flora disclose?

W How feet are her fmiles upon Tweed?

Yet Mary's ftill fweeter than those ;
Both nature and fancy exceed.
Nor daify, nor fweet blushing rofe,
Nor all the gay flowers of the field,
Nor Tweed gliding gently through those,
Such beauty, fuch pleasure doth yield.

The warblers are heard in the grove,
The linnet, the lark, and the thrush,
The blackbird and fweet cooing dove,
With mufic enchant every bufh.
Come, let us go forth to the mead,

Let us fee how the primroses spring;
We'll lodge in fome village on Tweed,

And love while the feather'd folks fing.

How does my love pafs the lang day?
Does Mary not tend a few sheep?
Do they never carelesly stray,
While happily fhe lies afleep?
Tweed's murmurs should lull her to reft;
Kind nature indulging my bliss,
To relieve the faft pains of my breaft,
I'd steal an ambrofial kifs.

'Tis fhe does the virgins exeel,

No beauty with her may compare; Love's graces around her do dwell;

She's faireft where thoufands are fair. Say, charmer, where do thy flocks ftray, Oh! tell me at noon where they feed; Shall I feek them on fweet winding Tay, Or the pleasanter banks of the Tweed.

ET others Damon's praise rehearse,
Or Colin's at their will;

I mean to fing in rustic verse,
Young Strephon of the hill.

As once I fat beneath a shade,
Befide a purling rill,
Who fhould my folitude invade
But Strephon of the hill.

He tapp'd my fhoulder, fnatch'd a kiss,
I could not take it ill;

For nothing fure is done amifs

By Stréphon of the hill.

Obferve the doves on yonder spray,
See how they fit and bill;