THE LADDIES BY THE BANKS O' NITH.

TUNE-UP AND WAUK THEM A'.

THE laddies by the banks o' Nith,

Wad trust his Grace wï' a', Jamie,
But he'll sair them as he sair'd the king—

Turn tail and rin awa, Jamie.

Up and waur them a', Jamie,

Up and waur them a';

The Johnstons hae the guidin' o't,
Ye turncoat Whigs, awa.

The day he stude his country's friend,
Or gied her faes a claw, Jamie,
Or frae puir man a blessin' wan,
That day the duke ne'er saw, Jamie.

But wha is he, his country's boast?
Like him there is na twa, Jamie;
There's no a callant tents the kye,
But kens o' Westerha', Jamie.

To end the wark, here's Whistlebirck,
Lang may his whistle blaw, Jamie ;
And Maxwell true o' sterling blue,
And we'll be Johnstons a', Jamie.

THE BONIE LASS OF ALBANY

TUNE-MARY'S DREAM.'

My heart is wae, and unco wae,

To think upon the raging sea,
That roars between her gardens green
And the bonie Lass of Albany.

This lovely maid's of royal blood
That ruled Albion's kingdoms three,
But oh, alas, for her bonie face,

They hae wrang'd the Lass of Albany.
In the rolling tide of spreading Clyde
There sits an isle of high degree,
And a town of fame whose princely name
Should grace the Lass of Albany.

But there's a youth, a witless youth,

That fills the place where she should be We'll send him o'er to his native shore, And bring our ain sweet Albany.

Alas the day, and wo the day,

A false usurper wan the gree,

Who now commands the towers and landsThe royal right of Albany.

We'll daily pray, we'll nightly pray,

On bended knees most ferventlie,

The time may come, with pipe and drum
We'll welcome hame fair Albany.

SONG.

TUNE-MAGGY LAUDER.'

WHEN first I saw fair Jeanie's face,
I couldna tell what ailed me,
My heart went fluttering pit-a-pat,
My een they almost failed me.
She's aye sae neat, sae trim, sae tight,
All grace does round her hover,
Ae look deprived me o' my heart,
And I became a lover.

She's aye, aye sae blithe, sae gay,
She's aye so blithe and cheerie ;
She's aye sae bonie, blithe, and gay
O gin I were her dearie !

Had I Dundas's whole estate,

Or Hopetoun's wealth to shine in ;
Did warlike laurels crown my brow,
Or humbler bays entwining—
I'd lay them a' at Jeanie's feet,
Could I but hope to move her,
And prouder than a belted knight,
I'd be my Jeanie's lover.

She's aye, aye sae blithe, sae gay, &c.

But sair I fear some happier swain
Has gained sweet Jeanie's favour :
If so, may every bliss be hers,

Though I maun never have her:
But gang she east, or gang she west,
'Twixt Forth and Tweed all over,
While men have eyes, or ears, or taste,
She'll always find a lover.

She's aye, aye sae blithe, sae gay, &c.

APPENDIX.

THE following Elegy, Extempore Verses to Gavin Hamilton and Versicles on Signposts, now for the first time published, are extracted, it is supposed, from the copy of his Commonplace Book which Burns presented to Mrs. Dunlop of Dunlop. The copy, after having been in the hands of several persons, and at each remove denuded of certain pages, came into the possession of Mr. Stillie, bookseller, Princes' Street, Edinburgh, some years since, and is now the property of Mr. Macmillan. Besides the following poems, it contains two stanzas never before published of the Epitaph on Robert Fergusson, versions of There was a lad was born in Kyle, and Gordon Castle, differing in some respects from those commonly printed; all of which have been embodied in the notes to the present edition. In the Common-place book, the Elegy is thus introduced :— “The following poem is the work of some hapless unknown son of the Muses, who deserved a better fate. There is a great deal of 'The Voice of Cona,' in his solitary mournful notes, and had the sentiments been clothed in Shenstone's language, they would have been no discredit even to that elegant poet." Burns, it will be seen, does not claim the authorship, and, from internal evidence, the Editor is of opinion that it was not written by him. Still, the Elegy, so far at least as the Editor is aware, exists nowhere else; and if Burns did not actually compose it, he at least thought it worthy of being copied with his own hand into a book devoted almost exclusively to his own compositions. Even if it were certain that Burns was not the author, still, the knowledge that he

The

admired it, and that through his agency it alone exists, is considered sufficient excuse for its admission here. Extempore Verses to Gavin Hamilton are as certainly Burns's as is Death and Dr. Hornbook, or the Address to the Deil. The dialect, the turn of phrase, the glittering surface of sarcasm, with the strong under-current of sense, and the peculiar off-hand impetuosity of idea and illustration, unmistakably indicate Burns's hand, and his only. In the Common-place Book, no date is given; but from the terms of the two closing stanzas, it would appear that the voyage to Jamaica was in contemplation at the period of its composition. The last stanza is almost identical in thought and expression with the closing lines of the well-known Dedication to Gavin Hamilton, which was 'written at that time, and which appeared in the first edition of the Poems printed at Kilmarnock.

The Versicles on Signposts have the following introduction :-"The everlasting surliness of a Lion, Saracen's head, &c. or the unchanging blandness of the Landlord welcoming a traveller, on some sign-posts, would be no bad similes of the constant affected fierceness of a Bully, or the eternal simper of a Frenchman or a Fiddler." The versicles themselves are of little worth, and are indebted entirely to their paternity for their appearance here.