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elbow chair, I produced the following, which are far inferior to the foregoing, I frankly confess." The peasantry, in whose hands all old verses are diversified by numerous variations, have attempted in vain to imitate the starting sentiment :—

O were my love yon lily white
That grows within the garden green,
And I were but the gardener lad,

I wad lie near its bloom at e'en.

Another variation substitutes a leek for the lily, which may indicate that the lover was of Welsh descent. There are varieties without end, and stray verses without number, all echoing in a fainter or ruder way the sentiment of the ancient verse.

BESS AND HER SPINNING WHEEL.

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 feal and warm at e'en !
I'll sit 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,

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 pairtrick 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?

The old song of " The Lass and her spinning wheel" must have been present to Burns's mind when he wrote this sweeter and gentler strain. The early song is ani

mated by love: the present song by domestic thrift, and an affection for hill, and tree, and stream. Household industry seldom lent any inspiration to the Muse: over sewing, spinning, and knitting; kneading cakes, and pressing cheese; shaking straw, and winnowing corn; and all the range of in-door and out-door occupation, no Muse was appointed to preside-the more's the pity!

LOGAN WATER.

O Logan, sweetly didst thou glide
That day I was my Willie's bride;
And years sinsyne hae o'er us run,
Like Logan to the simmer sun.
But now thy flow'ry banks appear
Like drumlie winter, dark and drear,
While my dear lad maun face his faes,
Far, far frae me and Logan braes.

Again the merry month o' May

Has made our hills and valleys gay ;

The birds rejoice in leafy bowers,

The bees hum round the breathing flowers;

Blithe morning lifts his rosy eye,

And evening's tears are tears of joy :

My soul delightless a' surveys,

While Willie's far frae Logan braes.

Within yon milk-white hawthorn bush,
Amang her nestlings, sits the thrush;
Her faithfu' mate will share her toil,
Or wi' his song her cares beguile :
But I wi' my sweet nurslings here,
Nae mate to help, nae mate to cheer,
Pass widow'd nights and joyless days,
While Willie's far frae Logan braes.

O wae upon you, men o' state,
That brethren rouse to deadly hate!

As ye

Sae

make mony a fond heart mourn,

may it on your heads return!

How can your flinty hearts enjoy

The widow's tears, the orphan's cry?

But soon may peace bring happy days,
And Willie, hame to Logan braes!

Logan Water has found many poets; but the most successful of all its minstrels is John Mayne, Esq. whose song of that name echoes back the pure sentiments and glad feelings of the olden days of the Muse with great feeling and truth. The song of Mayne, as well as that of Burns, is founded on some old verses; but the poet has only employed them in creating something more beautiful and delicate. Of the earlier song, the following may suffice for a specimen :

Ae simmer night, on Logan braes,
I helped a bonnie lassie on wi' her claes;

First wi' her stockings, and syne wi' her shoon;
But she gied me the glaiks when a' was done.

Had I kenn'd then what I ken now

The hero goes on to make the public his confidant; but the confession seems adapted for the secret and discreet ear of a father-confessor.

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, amang the woods 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 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.

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