WHEN I UPON THY BOSOM LEAN.

Tune-SCOTS RECLUSE.

THIS song was the work of a very worthy, facetious old fellow, John Lapraik, late of Dalfram, near Muirkirk; which little property he was obliged to sell in consequence of some connexion as security for some persons concerned in that villainous bubble, THE AYR BANK. He has often told me that he composed this song one day when his wife had been fretting o'er their misfortunes.*

When I upon thy bosom lean,

And fondly clasp thee a' my ain,

I glory in the sacred ties

That made us ane, wha ance were twain:

*This is the very song "that some kind husband had addrest to some sweet wife,” alluded to with such exquisite delicacy in Burns's Epistle to J. Lapraik.

"There was ae sang amang the rest,
Aboon them a' it pleas'd me best,
That some kind husband had addrest

To some sweet wife:

It thrill'd the heart-strings thro' the breast,
A' to the life."

A mutual flame inspires us baith,
The tender look, the melting kiss:
Even years shall ne'er destroy our love,
But only gie us change o' bliss.

I ken thy wish is me to please;
Our moments pass sae smooth away,
That numbers on us look and gaze,
Weel pleas'd they see our happy days,
Nor envy's sel finds aught to blame;
And ay when weary cares arise,

Thy bosom still shall be my hame.

I'll lay me there, and take my rest,
And if that aught disturb my dear,
I'll bid her laugh her cares away,

And beg her not to drap a tear :
Hae I a joy! its a' her ain;

United still her heart and mine;

They're like the woodbine round the tree,

That's twin'd till death shall them disjoin.

MY HARRY WAS A GALLANT GAY..

Tune-HIGHLANDER'S LAMENT.

THE oldest title I ever heard to this air was, The Highland Watch's Farewel to Ireland. The chorus I picked up from an old woman in Dunblane; the rest of the song is mine.

My Harry was a gallant gay,

Fu' stately strade he on the plain;
But now he's banish'd far away,
I'll never see him back again,
O for him back again,

O for him back again,

I wad gie a Knockhaspie's land,
For Highland Harry back again.

When a' the lave gae to their bed,
I wander dowie up the glen;
I set me down and greet my fill,
And ay I wish him back again.
O for him, &c.

O were some villains hangit high,
And ilka body had their ain!

Then I might see the joyfu' sight,
My Highlan' Harry back again!
O for him, &c.

BEWARE O' BONIE ANN.

1

I COMPOSED this song out of compliment to Miss Ann Masterton, the daughter of my friend, Allan Masterton, the author of the air of Strathallan's Lament, and two or three others in this work.

Ye gallants bright I red ye right,
Beware o' bonie Ann;

Her comely face sae fu' o' grace,
Your heart she will trepan.

Her een sae bright, like stars by night,

Her skin is like the swan;

Sae jimply lac'd her genty waist,
That sweetly ye might span.

Youth, grace, and love, attendant move,
And pleasure leads the van:

In a' their charms, and conquering arms,
They wait on bonie Ann.

The captive bands may chain the hands,
But love enslaves the man;
Ye gallants braw, I red you a',
Beware o' bonie Ann.

THE HIGHLAND CHARACTER.

THIS tune was the composition of Gen. Reid, and called by him The Highland, or 42d Regiment's March. The words are by Sir Harry Erskine.

In the garb of old Gaul, wi' the fire of old Rome,
From the heath-cover'd mountains of Scotia we come,
Where the Romans endeavour'd our country to gain,
But our ancestors fought, and they fought not in vain.
Such our love of liberty, our country, and our
laws,

That like our ancestors of old, we stand by
Freedom's cause;

We'll bravely fight like heroes bold, for honour
and applause,

And defy the French, with all their art, to alter our laws.