Thou'rt like themselves sae lovely, Return to Caledonie ! That we may brag we hae a lass WILLIE BREW'D A PECK O' MAUT. BURNS. TUNE-Willie brew'd a Peck o' Maut. O, WILLIE brew'd a peck o' maut, Here are we met, three merry boys; It is the mune-I ken her horn- Wha first shall rise to gang awa, A cuckold coward loun is he; * Written in honour of Miss Lesley Baillie of Ayrshire, (now Mrs Cumming of Logie,) when on her way to England, through Dumfries. Wha last beside his chair shall fa', THE POSIE. BURNS. TUNE-The Posie. Oн, luve will venture in where it daurna weel be seen; Oh, luve will venture in where wisdom ance has been; But I will doun yon river rove, amang the wood sae green, And a' to pu' a posie to my ain dear May. pou, The primrose I will the firstlin o' the year; a peer: And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May. I'll pou the buddin' rose, when Phoebus peeps in view, For it's like a baumy kiss o' her sweet bonnie mou; The hyacinth's for constancy, wi' its unchanging blue: And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May. The lily it is pure, and the lily it is fair, "This air is Masterton's; the song mine. The occasion of it was this: -Mr William Nicol, of the High School, Edinburgh, during the autumn vacation, being at Moffat, honest Allan, who was at that time on a visit to Dalswinton, and I, went to pay Nicol a visit. We had such a joyous meeting, that Mr Masterton and I agreed, each in our own way, that we should celebrate the business." Burns, apud Cromek's Select Scottish Songs, vol. II. p. 135. Currie, who mentions that Nicol's farm was that of Laggan, in Nithsdale, adds, that "these three honest fellows-all men of uncommon talents, were in 1798 all under the turf." The hawthorn I will pu', wi' its locks o' siller grey, Where, like an aged man, it stands at break o' day; But the songster's nest within the bush I winna take away: And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May. The woodbine I will pou when the e'enin' star is near, And the diamond-draps o'dew shall be her een sae clear; The violet's for modesty, which weel she fa's to wear : And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May. I'll tie the posie round wi' the silken band o' luve, And I'll place it in her breast, and I'll swear by a' above, That to my latest breath o' life the band shall ne'er re move: And this will be a posie to my ain dear May. KIND ROBIN LO'ES ME. TUNE-Robin lo'es me. ROBIN is my only jo, For Robin has the art to lo'e; They speak of napkins, speak of rings, To gifts as lang's a plaiden wab; Because I ken he lo'es me. He's tall and sonsie, frank and free, But little kens she what has been, When, Join your hands, Mess John will say, Till then, let every chance unite DIRGE OF A HIGHLAND CHIEF, WHO WAS EXECUTED AFTER THE REBELLION OF 1745. SON of the mighty and the free, * From Herd's Collection, 1776. Was it for high-rank'd chief like thee Oh, hadst thou slumber'd with the slain, But darkly closed thy morn of fame, That morn whose sunbeams rose so fair: Revenge alone may breathe thy name, The watch-word of despair. Yet, oh, if gallant spirit's power Has e'er ennobled death like thine, O'er thy own bowers the sunshine falls, Spring on the mountains laughs the while, On thy blue hills no bugle's sound Thy gates are closed, thy halls are still Those halls where swell'd the choral strain; They hear the wild winds murmuring shrill, And all is hush'd again. Thy bard his pealing harp has broke- One lay to mourn thy fate he woke, |