3 Sorrowing joy, adieu's last action,
When ling'ring lips no more must join;
What words can ever speak affection
So thrilling and sincere as thine!

I DREAM'D I LAY.

1 I DREAM'D I lay where flowers were springing,
Gaily in the sunny beam;
List'ning to the wild birds singing,

By a falling crystal stream:
Straight the sky grew black and daring;

Through the woods the whirlwinds rave;

Trees with aged arms were warring
O'er the swelling, drumlie wave.

2 Such was my life's deceitful morning,
Such the pleasures I enjoy'd;

But lang ere noon, loud tempests storming
A' my flow'ry bliss destroy'd.

Though fickle fortune has deceived me,
(She promis'd fair, and perform'd but ill ;)
Of mony a joy and hope bereaved me,
I bear a heart shall support me still.

THE DISCREET HINT.

1 LASS, when your mither is frae hame,
May I but be sae bauld

As come to your bower-window,
And creep in frae the cauld?
As come to your bower-window,
And when it's cauld an' wat,
Warm me in thy fair bosom,-
Sweet lass, may I do that?'

2'Young man, gin ye should be sae kind,
When our guidwife's frae hame,
As come to my bower-window,
Whare I am laid my lane,
To warm thee in my bosom,—
Tak tent, I'll tell thee what,

The way to me lies through the kirk :---
Young man, do ye hear that?'

MY FATHER WAS A FARMER.

TUNE-The Weaver and his Shuttle, O!"

1 My father was a farmer

Upon the Carrick border, O!
And carefully he bred me
In decency and order, O!
He bade me act a manly part,

Though I had ne'er a farthing, O!
For without an honest, manly heart,
No man was worth regarding, O!

2 Then out into the world

My course I did determine, O!
Though to be rich was not my wish,

Yet to be great was charming, O!
My talents they were not the worst,
Nor yet my education, O!
Resolved was I, at least to try
To mend my situation, O!

3 In many a way, and vain essay,
I courted fortune's favour, O!

Some cause unseen still stept between,
To frustrate each endeavour, O!

Sometimes by foes I was o'erpower'd ;
Sometimes by friends forsaken, O!
And when my hope was at the top

I still was worst mistaken, O!

4 Then sore harass'd, and tired at last,
With fortune's vain delusion, O!
I dropt my schemes, like idle dreams,
And came to this conclusion, O!
The past was bad, and the future hid;
Its good or ill untrièd, O!

But the present hour was in my power,
And so I would enjoy it, O!

5 No help, nor hope, nor view had I,
Nor person to befriend me, O!
So I must toil, and sweat, and broil,
And labour to sustain me, O!
To plough and sow, to reap and mow,
My father bred me early, O!
For one, he said, to labour bred,
Was a match for fortune fairly, O!

6 Thus all obscure, unknown, and poor, Through life I'm doom'd to wander, O! Till down my weary bones I lay

In everlasting slumber, O!
No view nor care, but shun whate'er
Might breed me pain or sorrow, O!
I live to-day as well's I may,

Regardless of to-morrow, O!

7 But cheerful still, I am as well As a monarch in a palace, O!

Though fortune's frown still hunts me down,.

With all her wanton malice, O!

I make indeed my daily bread,
But ne'er can make it farther, O!
But as daily bread is all I need,
I do not much regard her, O!

8 When sometimes by my labour
I earn a little money, O!
Some unforeseen misfortune

Comes generally upon me, O!
Mischance, mistake, or by neglect,
Or my good-natured folly, O!
But come what will, I've sworn it still,
I'll ne'er be melancholy, O!

9 All you who follow wealth and power
With unremitting ardour, O!

The more in this you look for bliss,
You leave your view the farther, O!
Had you the wealth Potosi boasts,
Or nations to adore you, O!
A cheerful, honest-hearted clown
I will prefer before you, O!

TO MR JOHN KENNEDY.

1 Now, Kennedy, if foot or horse

E'er bring you in by Mauchline Corse,
Lord, man, there's lasses there wad force

A hermit's fancy;

And down the gate, in faith, they're worse,
And mair unchancy.

2 But, as I'm sayin', please step to Dow's, And taste sic gear as Johnnie brews,

Till some bit callant bring me news

That you are there;

And if we dinna haud a bouse

I'se ne'er drink mair.

3 It's no I like to sit and swallow,
Then like a swine to puke and wallow;
But gie me just a true good fallow,
Wi' right ingine,

And spunkie ance to make us mellow,
And then we'll shine.

4 Now, if ye're ane o' warld's folk,
Wha rate the wearer by the cloak,
And sklent on poverty their joke,
Wi' bitter sneer,

Wi' you no friendship will I troke,
Nor cheap nor dear.

5 But if, as I'm informèd weel, Ye hate, as ill's the verra de'il, The flinty heart that canna feel,

Come, sir, here's tae you! Hae, there's my haun', I wiss you weel, And gude be wi' you!

OH, KENMURE'S ON AND AWA'.

TUNE- Oh, Kenmure's on and awa,' Willie!"

1 Он, Kenmure's on and awa', Willie !
Oh, Kenmure 's on and awa!

And Kenmure's lord's the bravest lord
That ever Galloway saw.