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What force or guile could not subdue,
Thro' many warlike ages,

Is wrought now by a coward few,
For hireling traitors' wages.
The English steel we could disdain,
Secure in valour's station;
But English gold has been our bane:
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation!

O would, or I had seen the day
That treason thus could sell us,
My auld grey head had lain in clay,
Wi' Bruce and loyal Wallace!
But pith and power till my last hour
I'll mak this declaration,

Were bought and sold for English gold:
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation!

HOW HAPPY IS HE.

TUNE" Good night and joy be wi' you a'."

How happy is he, whoe'er he be,

That in his lifetime meets one true friend,

Who cordially does sympathize

In words, in action, heart, and mind:

My kind respects do not neglect,
Altho' my wealth or state be small;
With a melting heart, and a mournful eye,
I beg that peace be wi' you all.

My loving friends, I kiss your hands,
For time invites me now to move;
On your poor servant lay commands,
Who is ambitious of your love.

He-whose pow'r and might, both day and night,
Governs the depths, makes rain to fall,
To sun and moon gives course of light,
Direct, protect, defend you all.

I do protest, within my breast,
Your memory I'll not neglect;
On that record I'll lay arrest,
No change shall ever alter it.
All I desire of earthly bliss,

Is to be freed from guilt or thrall;
I hope kind heav'n will grant me this:
Good night, and joy be wi' you all.

END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.

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AFT hae I stray'd the woods amang,
Ah! waes me lov'd Jeanie,

A lassie fair, (the deil may care)
Altho' thou maun never be mine,
Amang the birks sae blythe an' gay,
A rose-bud by my early walk,
As I came by Loch-Erroch side,
As I gaed down the water side,

As

went over yon meadow, .

As Jenny sat down wi' her wheel by the fire,
As walking forth to view the plain,

Awa wi' your witchcraft o beauty's alarms,

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Bannocks o' bear-meal, bannocks o' barley,
Behind yon hills where Lugar flows,
Beneath a hill, 'mang birken bushes,
Betty early gone a maying,
Blow on rude tempest wildly rave,
Blythe hae I been on yon hill,
Blythe was the time when he fee'd,
Blythe young Bess to Jean did say,
Broad set the sun o'er wild Glencoe,

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Busk ye, busk ye, my bonnie bride,
But are ye sure the news is true,
By Logan's streams that rin sae deep,
By Ochtertyre grows the aik,.

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By the side o' yon river, as Bessy sat moaning,
By yon castle wa', at the close of the day,

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Caledonia, my country, thy rivers and fountains, T. Smith,
Cauld blaws the wind frae north to south,
Cold blaws the wind frae east to west,
Come alang wi' me my love,

Come gies a sang the lady cried,

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Come under my plaidie, the night's gaun to fa',
Comin' thro' the craigs o' Kyle, .

Contented wi' little, and cantie wi' mair,

Draw near ye warblers wild, in woe, .
Duncan Gray cam here to woo,

Ev'ning sheds her gems o' dew,

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Burns,
J. Burtt,
Skinner,
Macneill,
Jean Glover,
Burns,

Fareweel to a' our Scottish fame,

Farewell thou fair day, thou green earth,
Farewell to Lochaber, and farewell my Jean,
Farewell ye vales where Avon flows,
Far lone amang the Highland hills,

First when Maggy was my care,

From thee Eliza I must go,

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A. Simson, 282

Tannahill,
Burns,

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From the sea-beaten coast of Scotia I wander, Scadlock,

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Had I a cave on some wild distant shore,
Hae ye seen in the calm dewy morning,
Hear me, ye nymphs, and ev'ry swain,
Here awa, there awa, wandering Willie,
Hersel pe Highland Shentleman,
Hie bonnie lassie blink over the burn,
How blythe hae I been wi' my Sandy,.
How blythe was I ilk morn to see,
How dear to think on former days,
How happy is he, whoe'er he be,
How hard's the fate of womankind,
How long and drearie is the night,

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How pleasant the banks of the clear, &c,

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Aitchison,

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$221

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Tannahill,
A. Boswell,

Burns,
Burns, jun.
Crawford,
Burns,

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How sweet is the scene,

Richard Gall,

194

I see a form, I see a face,

Hush, ye rude breezes, my Harry is coming, A. Simson,

I gaed a waefu' gate yestreen,
I had a horse, I had nae mair,
I'll aye ca' in by yon town,

I lo'ed near a laddie but ane,

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I met my dear lassie yestreen in the vale,
I'm now a gude farmer, I've acres o' lan',
I'm wearing awa, Jean,

In ancient times, as songs rehearse,

In April, when primroses paint the sweet plain, Ramsay,
In the garb of old Gaul,

In winter when the rain rain'd cauld,

Is there for honesty poverty,

It was upon a Lammas night,

297

Burns,

78

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Burns,

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I've heard them lilting, at the ewe milking,
I've seen the lily on the wold,

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I've seen the smiling of fortune beguiling,

Mrs Cockburn, 166

I wish I were where Helen lies,

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Jockey said to Jenny, Jenny wilt thou do't,. Ramsay, 277
John Anderson my jo, John,

Keen blaws the win' o'er the braes o' Gleniffer,
Keen blaws the wind o'er Donnocht head,
Kind, an' blythe, and sweet as onie,

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Last May a braw wooer came down,
Let bardies tune the rural strain,
Let drunkards sing in praise o' wine,
Let them boast of the country gave Patrick,
Let us go, lassie, go,

Loudon's bonnie woods an' braes,

Lowland lassie, wilt thou go,

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Mark yonder pomp of costly fashion,

Meg, muckin at Geordie's byre,

Mid life's busy scenes,

Mirk and rainy is the night,
Musing on the roaring ocean,
My daddie is a canker'd carle,
My heart's in the Highlands,

Burns,
J. Nicol,
Anonymous,
Tannahill, 303

Burns,

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