When in my arms, wi' a' thy charms,
I clasp my countless treasure, O,
I seek nae mair o' Heaven to share,
Than sic a moment's pleasure, O!
And by thy een, sae bonnie blue,
I swear I'm thine for ever, O!—
And on thy lips I seal my vow,
And break it shall I never, O!

BRAVING ANGRY WINTER'S
STORMS.

TUNE-Neil Gow's Lamentation for Abercairny.

WHERE, braving angry winter's storms,
The lofty Ochils rise,

Far in their shade my Peggy's charms
First blest my wondering eyes;

As one who by some savage stream,
A lonely gem surveys,

Astonish'd, doubly marks its beam,
With art's most polish'd blaze.

Blest be the wild, sequester'd shade,
And blest the day and hour,
Where Peggy's charms I first survey'd,
When first I felt their pow'r!

The tyrant death, with grim control,
May seize my fleeting breath;
But tearing Peggy from my soul
Must be a stronger death.

BRUCE'S ADDRESS.

TUNE-Hey Tuttie Taittie.

SCOTS, wha hae wi' Wallace bled,
Scots, wham Bruce has aften led;
Welcome to your gory bed,
Or to victorie !

Now's the day, and now's the hour;
See the front o' battle lour;
See approach proud Edward's power-
Chains and slavery!

Wha will be a traitor knave?
Wha can fill a coward's grave?
Wha sae base as be a slave?
Let him turn and flee!

Wha for Scotland's king and law
Freedom's sword will strongly draw,
Freeman stand, or Freeman fa',
Let him follow me!

By oppression's woes and pains!
By your sons in servile chains!
We will drain our dearest veins,
But they shall be free!

Lay the proud usurpers low!
Tyrants fall in every foe!
Liberty's in every blow!-
Let us do, or die!

BUT LATELY SEEN.

TUNE-The Winter of Life.

BUT lately seen in gladsome green,
The woods rejoiced the day;
Thro' gentle showers the laughing flowers,
In double pride were gay;
But now our joys are fled

On winter blasts awa!
Yet maiden May, in rich array,
Again shall bring them a'.

But my white pow, nae kindly thowe
Shall melt the snaws of age;
My trunk of eild, but buss or beild,
Sinks in Time's wintry rage.
Oh! age has weary days,

And nights o' sleepless pain!
Thou golden time o' youthfu' prime,
Why comes thou not again?

BY ALLAN STREAM I CHANC'D TO

ROVE.

TUNE-Allan Water.

By Allan stream I chanc'd to rove,
While Phoebus sank beyond Benleddi;
The winds were whispering thro' the grove,
The yellow corn was waving ready :

I listen'd to a lover's sang,

And thought on youthfu' pleasures mony; And aye the wild-wood echoes rangOh, dearly do I love thee, Annie!

Oh, happy be the woodbine bower,
Nae nightly bogle make it eerie ;
Nor ever sorrow stain the hour,

The place and time I met my dearie ! Her head upon my throbbing breast, She, sinking, said, "I'm thine for ever!" While mony a kiss the seal imprest,

The sacred vow, we ne'er should sever. The haunt o' spring's the primrose brae, The simmer joys the flocks to follow; How cheery thro' her shortening day,

Is Autumn in her weeds o' yellow! But can they melt the glowing heart, Or chain the soul in speechless pleasure? Or thro' each nerve the rapture dart, Like meeting her, our bosom's treasure?

CALEDONIA.

TUNE-Caledonian Hunt's Delight.

THERE was once a day-but old Time then was young

That brave Caledonia, the chief of her line, From some of your northern deities sprung, (Who knows not that brave Caledonia's divine?)

From Tweed to the Orcades was her domain, To hunt, or to pasture, or do what she

would:

Her heav'nly relations there fixed her reign, And pledg'd her their godheads to warrant

it good.

A lambkin in peace, but a lion in war,
The pride of her kindred the heroine grew :
Her grandsire, old Odin, triumphantly swore
Whoe'er shall provoke thee, th' encoun-
ter shall rue!"

66

sport,

With tillage or pasture at times she would [ling corn; To feed her fair flocks by her green rustBut chiefly the woods were her fav'rite resort, Her darling amusement the hounds and the

horn.

Long quiet she reign'd; till thitherward steers A flight of bold eagles from Adria's strand: Repeated, successive, for many long years, They darken'd the air, and they plunder'd the land;

cry,

Their pounces were murder, and terror their [side; They'd conquer'd and ruin'd a world beShe took to her hills, and her arrows let flyThe daring invaders they fled or they died. The fell harpy-raven took wing from the north, [the shore; The scourge of the seas, and the dread of The wild Scandinavian boar issu'd forth

To wanton in carnage, and wallow in gore: O'er countries and kingdoms their fury prevail'd, [repel;

No arts could appease them, no arms could But brave Caledonia in vain they assailed, As Largs well can witness, and Loncartie tell.