Life, thou soul of every blessing,
Load to misery most distressing,
Oh how gladly I'd resign thee,
And to dark oblivion join thee!"

THE YOUNG HIGHLAND ROVER.

"The Young Highland Rover," is Prince Charles Stuart. Burns was always a Jacobite, but more so after his tour to the Highlands, when this song was composed.

TUNE-Morag.

LOUD blaw the frosty breezes,

The snaws the mountains cover;
Like winter on me seizes,

Since my young Highland Rover
Far wanders nations over.
Where'er he go, where'er he stray,
May Heaven be his warden:
Return him safe to fair Strathspey,
And bonnie Castle-Gordon!

The trees now naked groaning,
Shall soon wi' leaves be hinging,1
The birdies dowie' moaning,
Shall a' be blythely singing,
And every flower be springing.
Sae I'll rejoice the lee-langs day,
When by his mighty warden
My youth's return'd to fair Strathspey
And bonnie Castle-Gordon.

STRATHALLAN'S LAMENT.

Strathallan, it is presumed, was one of the followers of the young Chevalier, and is supposed, in the following verses, to be lying concealed in some eave of the Highlands, after the battle of Culloden.

THICKEST night o'erhang my dwelling!
Howling tempests o'er me rave!
Turbid torrents, wintry swelling,
Still surround my lonely cave!

1 Hanging.-2 Worn with grief.-3 Live-long.

Crystal streamlets gently flowing,
Busy haunts of base mankind,
Western breezes softly blowing,
Suit not my distracted mind.

In the cause of right engagéd,
Wrongs injurious to redress,
Honor's war we strongly wagéd,

But the Heavens denied success.
Ruin's wheel has driven o'er us,
Not a hope that dare attend;
The wild world is all before us-
But a world without a friend!

THE BANKS OF NITH.

A Fragment.

To thee, loved Nith, thy gladsome plains,
Where late wi' careless thought I ranged,
Though prest wi' care and sunk in woe,
To thee I bring a heart unchanged.

I love thee, Nith, thy banks and braes,
Though memory there my bosom tear;
For there he roved that brak my heart-
Yet to that heart, ah! still how dear!

FAREWELL TO NANCY.

The last four lines of the second verse of this song have furnished Byron with a motto, and Scott has said that that motto is worth a thousand romances:

"Had we never loved sae kindly," &c.

AE fond kiss, and then we sever!
Ae fareweel, alas, forever!

Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.
Who shall say that Fortune grieves him,
While the star of hope she leaves him?
Me, nae cheerfu' twinkle lights me;
Dark despair around benights me.

I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy,
Naething could resist my Nancy:
But to see her, was to love her;
Love but her, and love forever.
Had we never loved sae kindly,
Had we never loved sae blindly,
Never met-or never parted,

We had ne'er been broken-hearted.

Fare thee weel, thou first and fairest!
Fare thee weel, thou best and dearest!
Thine be ilka joy and treasure,
Peace, enjoyment, love, and pleasure!
Ae fond kiss, and then we sever!
Ae fareweel, alas! forever!

Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.

FAREWELL TO ELIZA.

Written for Johnson's Museum. This song has latterly been rendered popular by the musical talents of Miss Stephens.

TUNE-Gilderoy.

FROM thee, Eliza, I must go,
And from my native shore;
The cruel fates between us throw
A boundless ocean's roar:
But boundless oceans roaring wide
Between my love and me,

They never, never can divide
My heart and soul from thee.

Farewell, farewell, Eliza dear,
The maid that I adore!
A boding voice is in my ear,
We part to meet no more!

But the last throb that leaves my heart,

While Death stands victor by,

That throb, Eliza, is thy part,

And thine that latest sigh.

FAIR ELIZA.

"The bonnie brucket lassie," to the music of which this superior song is composed, was written by an eccentric character, who was well known in Edinburgh about forty years ago by the name of "Balloon Tytler." He also wrote the popular song, of "Loch Erroch Side."

TUNE-The bonnie brucket lassie.

TURN again, thou fair Eliza,
Ae kind blink before we part,
Rue on thy despairing lover!

Canst thou break his faithfu' heart?
Turn again, thou fair Eliza!
If to love thy heart denies,
For pity hide the cruel sentence
Under friendship's kind disguise!

Thee, dear maid, hae I offended?
The offence is loving thee:
Canst thou wreck his peace forever
Wha for thine wad gladly die?
While the life beats in my bosom,
Thou shalt mix in ilka throe:
Turn again, thou lovely maiden,
Ae sweet smile on me bestow!

Not the bee upon the blossom,
In the pride o' sunny noon;
Not the little sporting fairy,

All beneath the simmer moon;

Not the poet in the moment
Fancy lightens in his ee,

Kens the pleasure, feels the rapture,
That thy presence gies to me.

THOUGH CRUEL FATE, ETC.

This beautiful fragment is an early composition.

THOUGH cruel Fate should bid us part,
As far's the Pole and Line,
Her dear idea round my heart
Should tenderly entwine.

Though mountains frown and deserts howl,
And oceans roar between;

Yet, dearer than my deathless soul,
I still would love my Jean.

THE HIGHLAND LASSIE.

Burns composed these verses in early life, before he was at all known in the world. The object of his affection was Mary Campbell, a native of the Highlands. The deep impression which she made on his mind can hardly be inferred from this song. From those which follow, however, we can more readily imagine the intense interest which she excited in his bosom.

TUNE-The deuk s dang owre my daddy.

NAE gentle dames, though e'er sae fair,
Shall ever be my Muse's care;
Their titles a' are empty show;
Gie me my Highland lassie, O.

Within the glen sae bushy, 0,
Aboon the plain sae rushy, O,
I set me down wi' right good will
To sing my Highland lassie, O.

Oh, were yon hills and valleys mine,
Yon palace and yon gardens fine,
The world then the love should know
I bear my Highland lassie, O.

Within the glen, &c.

But fickle fortune frowns on me,
And I maun cross the raging sea;
But while my crimson currents flow
I'll love my Highland lassie, O.
Within the glen, &c.

Although thro' foreign climes I range,
I know her heart will never change,
For her bosom burns with honor's glow,
My faithful Highland lassie, O.

Within the glen, &c.

For her I'll dare the billow's roar,

For her I'll dare the distant shore,