Her body is bestowed well,

A handfome grave does hide her; But fure her foul is not in hell,

The deil would ne'er abide her.

I rather think fhe is aloft,

And imitating thunder;

For why, methinks I hear her voice
Tearing the clouds afunder.

I

I MET A LASS, A BONIE LASS.

MET a lafs, a bonie lafs,

Coming o'er the braes o' Couper,

Bare her leg and bright her een,
And handfome ilka bit about her.

Weel I wat she was a quean

Wad made a body's mouth to water;

Our mess John, wi' his lyart pow,

His haly lips wad lickit at her.

THOUGH FICKLE FORTUNE.

HOUGH fickle Fortune has deceiv'd

TH

me,

She promis'd fair and perform'd but ill; Of mistress, friends, and wealth bereav'd me, Yet I bear a heart fhall fupport me still.

I'll act with prudence as far's I'm able,
But if fuccefs I muft never find,
Then come misfortune, I bid thee welcome,
I'll meet thee with an undaunted mind.-

• O GIE MY LOVE BROSE, BROSE.

GIE my love brofe, brofe,

Gie my love brofe and butter;

For nane in Carrick or Kyle

Can please a laffie better.

The lav'rock lo'es the grass,

The muirhen lo'es the heather;

But gie me a braw moonlight,

And me and my love together.

AS DOWN THE BURN, &c.

A

S down the burn they took their way,
And thro' the flowery dale;

His cheek to hers he aft did lay,

And love was ay the tale.

With "Mary, when shall we return,

"Sic pleasure to renew?"

Quoth Mary," Love, I like the burn, "And ay fhall follow you."

THE LAST BRAW BRIDAL, &c.

Τ

HE laft braw bridal that I was at,

'Twas on a Hallowmafs day,

And there was routh o' drink and fun,

And mickle mirth and play.

The bells they rang, and the carlins fang,
And the dames danced in the ha';

The bride went to bed wi' the filly bridegroom,
In the midst o' her kimmers a'

SONG,

IN THE CHARACTER OF A RUINED FARMER.

Tune." GO FROM MY WINDOW, LOVE, DO."

Τ

HE fun he is funk in the west,

All creatures retired to rest,

While here I fit all fore befet

With forrow, grief, and wo;

And it's O, fickle Fortune, O!

The profperous man is asleep,
Nor hears how the whirlwinds sweep;

But Mifery and I must watch

The furly tempest blow :

And it's O, fickle Fortune, O!

There lies the dear partner of my breast,

Her cares for a moment at rest:

Muft I fee thee, my youthful pride,

Thus brought fo

very

low!

And it's O, fickle Fortune, O!

Y y'

There lie my fweet babies in her arms, No anxious fear their little heart alarms; But for their fake my heart doth ache, With many a bitter throe:

And it's O, fickle Fortune, O!

I once was by Fortune caresst,

I once could relieve the diftreft ;

Now life's poor fupport, hardly earn'd, My fate will scarce bestow :

And it's O, fickle Fortune, O!

No comfort, no comfort I have!
How welcome to me were the grave!
But then my wife and children dear,
O whither would they go?

And it's O, fickle Fortune, O!

O whither, O whither fhall I turn!
All friendless, forsaken, forlorn!
For in this world Reft or Peace
I never more shall know!
And it's O, fickle Fortune, O!