her native district as "The Flower of Strathmore." She married Mr. Smythe of Methven, one of the judges of the Court of Session. BURNS is only answerable for the second verse of the following. OH, whare did ye get that hauver3-meal bannock? I gat it frae a brisk young sodger laddie, May Heaven protect my bonny Scots laddie, My blessin's upon thy sweet wee lippie, Thy smiles are sae like my blithe sodger laddie, 1 In kitchen and parlour. 2 Birchen-woods. 3 Oat. 4 Dandled. But I'll big a bower on yon bonny banks, THE JOYFUL WIDOWER. I MARRIED with a scolding wife, We lived full one-and-twenty years At length from me her course she steer'd, I speak, and do not flatter, Her body is bestowed well, A handsome grave does hide her; But sure her soul is not in hell, The deil could ne'er abide her. I rather think she is aloft, And imitating thunder; For why, methinks I hear her voice A ROSEBUD BY MY EARLY WALK. Tune-"The Rosebud." THE heroine of the following song was Miss Cruikshank, daughter of the poet's friend, Mr. Cruikshank, 30 St. James' Square, Edinburgh. A poem addressed to her will be found at page 143. A ROSEBUD by my early walk, 1 An open space in a cornfield. Sae gently bent its thorny stalk, Ere twice the shades o' dawn are fled, Within the bush, her covert nest She soon shall see her tender brood, So thou, dear bird, young Jenny fair! That tends thy early morning. That watch'd thy early morning. BRAVING ANGRY WINTER'S STORMS. Tune-"Neil Gow's Lamentation for Abercairny." THE two following songs were written in praise of Miss Margaret Chalmers, a relative of the poet's friend, Mr. Gavin Hamilton. WHERE, braving angry Winter's storms, Far in their shade my Peggy's charms Astonish'd, doubly marks its beam, Blest be the wild sequester'd shade, The tyrant Death, with grim control, But tearing Peggy from my soul MY PEGGY'S FACE. Tune-"My Peggy's Face." My Peggy's face, my Peggy's form, The lily's hue, the rose's dye, THE BANKS OF THE DEVON. Tune-" Bhanarach dhonn a chruidh." "THESE Verses," says Burns, in his notes in the Musical Museum, were composed on a charming girl, Miss Charlotte Hamilton, who is now married to James M. Adair, physician. She is sister to my worthy friend, Gavin Hamilton of Mauchline, and was born on the banks of the Ayr; but was, at the time I wrote these lines, residing at Harvieston, in Clackmannanshire, on the romantic banks of the little river Devon." How pleasant the banks of the clear-winding Devon, Mild be the sun on this sweet-blushing flower, That steals on the evening each leaf to renew Oh, spare the dear blossom, ye orient breezes, Let Bourbon exult in his gay gilded lilies, And England, triumphant, display her proud rose: Where Devon, sweet Devon, meandering flows. MACPHERSON'S FAREWELL. Tune-"M'Pherson's Rant." THE following was designed by the poet as an improvement on a well-known old song entitled, "Macpherson's Lament." pherson is from Mr. Chambers's edition of the poet's works:-"James MacThe following account of Macpherson was a noted Highland freebooter of uncommon personal strength, and an excellent performer on the violin. After holding the counties of Aberdeen, Banff, and Moray in fear for some years, he was seized by Duff of Braco, ancestor of the Earl of Fife, and tried before the sheriff of Banffshire, (November 7, 1700,) along with certain gipsies who had been taken in his company. In the prison, while he lay under sentence of death, he composed a song and an appropriate air, the former commencing thus: 'I've spent my time in rioting, Debauch'd my health and strength; I squander'd fast as pillage came, But dantonly, and wantonly, I'll play a tune, and dance it roun' When brought to the place of execution, on the Gallows-hill of Banff, (Nov. 16,) he played the tune on his violin, and then asked if any friend was present who would accept the instrument as a gift at his hands. No one coming forward, he indignantly broke the violin on his knee, and threw away the fragments; after which he submitted to his fate. The traditionary accounts of Macpherson's immense prowess are justified by his sword, which is still preserved in Duff House, at Banff, and is an implement of great length and weight -as well as by his bones, which were found a few years ago, and were allowed by all who saw them to be much stronger than the bones of ordinary men.' FAREWELL, ye dungeons dark and strong, On yonder gallows-tree. Sae rantingly, sae wantonly, Sae dauntingly gaed he; He play'd a spring, and danced it round, Below the gallows-tree. Oh! what is death but parting breath?— I've dared his face, and in this place Untie these bands from off my hands, And there's no a man in all Scotland I've lived a life of sturt and strife; It burns my heart I must depart |