The fopling sae fine and sae airy,
Sae fondly in love wi' himsel',

Is proud wi' ilk new female conquest
To shine at the walk and the ball.

But gie me, oh gie me, the dear calm o' nature,
By some bush or brae-side, where naebody goes,
And ae bonny lassie to lean on my bosom,
My ain lovely Mary, the maid o' Montrose.

O what is the wale o' the warld,
Gin nane o' its pleasures we prove,
And where can we prove o' its pleasures
Gin no wi' the lassie we love.

O sweet are the smiles and the dimples o' beauty,
Where lurking the loves and the graces repose,
And sweet is the dark o' the e'e saftly rolling,
But sweeter is Mary, the maid o' Montrose.

O Mary, 'tis no for thy beauty,
Though few are sae bonny as thee;
O Mary, 'tis no for thy person,

Though handsome as woman can be:

Thy fair flowing form is the fair vernal flow'ret,

The bloom o' thy cheek is the bloom o' the rose,

But the charms o' her mind are the ties sae endearing, That bind me to Mary, the maid o' Montrose.

LXXVI.

MY HARRY WAS A GALLANT GAY *.

AIR-Highlander's lament,

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,
aye I wish him back again.

And

O for him, &c.

O! were some villains hanged high,

And ilka body had their ain,
Then might I see the joyful night,

My Highland Harry back again.

O for him, &c.

This song is the composition of Burns. It is said that he obtained the chorus from the recitation of an old woman who resided in Dumblane.

LXXVII.

PROSPECTS OF AMERICA ❤.

(By Dr. Dwight, a Native Poet.)

Columbia! Columbia! to glory arise,

Thou Queen of the World, and thou child of the skies,
Thy Genius commands thee, with raptures behold,
While ages on ages thy splendours unfold.

Thy reign is the last, and the noblest of Time,
Most fruitful thy soil, most inviting thy clime;
Let the crimes of the East ne'er incrimson thy name,
Be Freedom and Science, and Virtue, thy fame.

To conquest and slaughter, let Europe aspire,
Whelm nations in blood, wrap cities in fire,
Thy heroes the rights of mankind shall defend,
And triumph pursue them, and glory attend;
A World is thy realm; for a world be thy laws,
Enlarg'd as thy empire and just as thy cause,
On Freedom's broad basis that Empire shall rise;
Extend with the main, and dissolve with the skies.

* National honour, independence, and prosperity, form a pleasing theme both for the attention and celebration of the bard. They are not only exceedingly fertile, and thus present most ample scope for the exercise of his invention; they are also recommended by every consideration which can warm the heart or elevate the affections. Among the various productions which have been dedicated to this purpose, the present, though short, is nevertheless con

Fair Science her gates to thy sons shall unbar,

And the East see thy Morn hide the beams of her star;
New Bards and new Sages unrivall'd shall soar,
By Fame still distinguish'd when time is no more.
To thee the last refuge of Virtue's design'd,
Shall fly from all nations the best of mankind,
There, grateful to Heav'n, with transport shall bring
Their incense more fragrant than odours of Spring.

Nor less shall thy fair ones to Glory ascend,
And Genius and Beauty in harmony blend;
Their graces of form shall wake pure desire,
And the charms of the soul still enliven the fire:
Their sweetness unmingled, their manners refined,
And Virtue's bright image instamped on the mind,
With peace and sweet rapture shall teach life to glow,
And light up a smile on the aspect of woe.

spicuous. It displays, in a very impressive manner, the sincere wishes and anticipations of the Patriot, expressed with all the fervour and enthusiasm of the Poet.

The particular circumstance respecting the poem, to which we would direct the attention of our readers, is, that it was composed for the express purpose of vindicating the honour of a nation. A considerable number of years ago, a paragraph appeared in a periodical paper belonging to this country, which contained some hints that America either had not, or could not produce a native poet. These insinuations were however soon after disapproved by the exertions of a Mr. Dwight, who published this poem, and designed himself, as we have done, in the title, "A native poet." Of this gentleman, however, we have not been able to obtain any particular infor mation, nor have we, at least as far as is known to us, been favoured with any other displays of his poetical talents.

Thy fleets to all regions thy power shall display,
The nations admire, and the ocean obey;

Each shore to thy glory its tribute unfold,

And the East and the South yield their spices and gold;
As the day-spring unbounded, thy splendours shall flow,
And Earth's little kingdoms before thee shall bow;
While the ensigns of union, in triumph unfurled,
Hush Anarchy's sway, and give peace to the world.

Thus, as down a lone valley, 'mid the poplar's soft shade,
From the din of the city, I pensively strayed-
The gloom from the face of fair Heav'n retired,
The winds ceased to murmur, the thunders expired;
Perfumes, as of Eden, flowed sweetly along,

And a voice, as of angels, enchantingly sung:
Columbia! Columbia! to glory arise,

Thou Queen of the World, and thou child of the skies.

LXXVIII.

THE SLEEPING BEAUTY.

Sleep on, and dream of heaven a-while,

Though shut so close thy laughing eyes;

Thy rosy lips still wear a smile,

And move and breathe delicious sighs.