Guardian angels, O protect her,
When in distant lands I roam !

To realms unknown while fate exiles me,
Make her bosom still my home.

HIGHLAND MARY.

In this song, so exquisitely mournful, we see all the anticipations, all the hopes, of Burns laid low. His Prayer was not heard. His Mary was, as it were, struck dead at his feet. She met him, by appointment, in a sequestered spot by the banks of Ayr, where she spent the day with him in taking a farewell, before she should embark for the West-Highlands, to arrange matters among her friends for her projected clange in life. Shortly after she crossed the sea to meet him at Greenock, where she had scarcely landed when she was seized with a malignant fever, which hurried her to the grave in a few days, before he could even hear of her illness.

Tune.-Katharine Ogie.

YE banks, and braes, and streams around
The castle o' Montgomery,

Green be your woods, and fair your flowers,
Your waters never drumlie!

There simmer first unfald" her robes,
And there the langest tarry!

For there I took the last fareweel
O' my sweet Highland Mary.

How sweetly bloom'd the gay green birk!
How rich the hawthorn's blossom!
As underneath their fragrant shade,
I clasp'd her to my bosom!
The golden hours, on angel wings,
Flew o'er me and my dearie;
For dear to me, as light and life,
Was my sweet Highland Mary.

Wi' monie a vow and lock'd embrace,
Our parting was fu' tender;
And pledging aft to meet again,
We tore oursels asunder:

" Unfolds.