Then ye may tell, how pell and mell,
By red claymores, and muskets' knell,
Wi' dying yell, the Tories fell,

And Whigs to hell did flee, man."

BLOOMING NELLY.

TUNE- On a Bank of Flowers.

ON a bank of flowers, in a summer-day,
For summer lightly drest,
The youthful, blooming Nelly lay,
With love and sleep opprest;

When Willie, wandering through the wood,
Who for her favour oft had sued,

He gazed, he wished, he feared, he blushed, And trembled where he stood.

Her closed eyes like weapons sheathed,
Were sealed in soft repose;

Her lip, still as she fragrant breathed,
It richer dyed the rose.

The springing lilies sweetly prest,

Wild-wanton, kissed her rival breast;

He gazed, he wished, he feared, he blushed, His bosom ill at rest.

Her robes light waving in the breeze
Her tender limbs embrace;

Her lovely form, her native ease,
All harmony and grace :
Tumultuous tides his pulses roll,

A faltering, ardent kiss he stole ;

He gazed, he wished, he feared, he blushed, And sighed his very soul.

As flies the partridge from the brake

On fear-inspired wings,

So Nelly starting, half awake,

Away affrighted springs:

But Willie followed, as he should;

He overtook her in the wood;

He vowed, he prayed, he found the maid
Forgiving all and good.

MY HEART'S IN THE HIGHLANDS.

TUNE-Faille na Miosg.

In this song Burns caught up the single streak of poetry which existed in a well-known old stall song, entitled The Strong Walls of Derry, and which commences thus:

"The first day I landed, 'twas on Irish ground,

The tidings came to me from fair Derry town,

That my love was married, and to my sad wo, And I lost my first love by courting too slow."

After many stanzas of similar doggerel, the author breaks out, as under an inspiration, with the one fine verse, which Burns afterwards seized as a basis for his own beautiful ditty:

66

My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here;
My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer;
A-chasing the deer, and following the roe-
My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go."

My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not

here;

My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer;

A-chasing the wild deer, and following the

roe

My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go.

Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North,

The birthplace of valour, the country of worth ; Wherever I wander, wherever I rove,

The hills of the Highlands for ever I love.

Farewell to the mountains high covered with

snow ';

Farewell to the straths and green valleys be

low;

Farewell to the forests and wild-hanging woods; Farewell to the torrents and loud-pouring floods.

My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here;

My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer; A-chasing the wild deer, and following the roeMy heart's in the Highlands wherever I go.

THE BANKS OF NITH.

TUNE - Robie donna Gorach.

THE Thames flows proudly to the sea,
Where royal cities stately stand;
But sweeter flows the Nith, to me,

Where Cummins ance had high command.
When shall I see that honoured land,
That winding stream I love so dear!
Must wayward Fortune's adverse hand
For ever, ever keep me here?

How lovely, Nith, thy fruitful vales,

Where spreading hawthorns gaily bloom! How sweetly wind thy sloping dales,

Where lambkins wanton through the broom!

Though wandering, now, must be my doom,
Far from thy bonny banks and braes,
May there my latest hours consume,
Amang the friends of early days!

MY HEART IS A-BREAKING, DEAR TITTIE!

My heart is a-breaking, dear tittie!

Some counsel unto me come len',

To anger them a' is a pity,

But what will I do wi' Tam Glen?

I'm thinking wi' sic a braw fellow

In poortith I might make a fen'; What care I in riches to wallow,

If I maunna marry Tam Glen?

sister

poverty - shift

There's Lowrie, the Laird o' Drumeller,
Guid-day to you, brute! he comes ben;

He brags and he blaws o' his siller,

But when will he dance like Tam Glen?

in

My minnie does constantly deave me, mother-deafen And bids me beware o' young men ;