O had I ne'er seen thee, my Eppie M'Nab!
O had I ne'er seen thee, my Eppie M'Nab!
As light as the air, and fause as thou's fair,
Thou's broken the heart o' thy ain Jock Rab.

WHA IS THAT AT MY BOWER-DOOR?

Tune-" Lass, an I come near thee."

[The "Auld Man and the Widow," in Ramsay's collection, is said, by Gilbert Burns, to have suggested this song to his brother: it first appeared in the Museum.]

WHA is that at my bower-door?

O, wha is it but Findlay?

Then gae your gate, ye'se nae be here!

Indeed, maun I, quo' Findlay.

What mak ye sae like a thief?

O come and see, quo' Findlay;

Before the morn, ye'll work mischief;

Indeed will I, quo' Findlay.

Gif I rise and let you in?

Let me in, quo' Findlay;

Ye'll keep me waukin wi' your din;
Indeed will I, quo' Findlay.
In my bower if you should stay?
Let me stay, quo' Findlay;
I fear ye'll hide till break o' day;
Indeed will I, quo' Findlay.

Here this night if ye remain ;-
I'll remain, quo' Findlay;
I dread ye'll learn the gate again;
Indeed will I, quo' Findlay.
What may pass within this bower,—
Let it pass, quo' Findlay;

Ye maun conceal till your last hour;
Indeed will I, quo' Findlay.

WHAT CAN A YOUNG LASSIE.

Tune-"What can a young lassie do wi' an auld man.”

[In the old strain, which partly suggested this song, the heroine threatens only to adorn her husband's brows: Burns proposes a system of domestic annoyance to break his heart..

WHAT can a young lassie, what shall a young lassie,
What can a young lassie do wi' an auld man?
Bad luck on the pennie that tempted my minnie
To sell her poor Jenny for siller an' lan'!
Bad luck on the pennie that tempted my minnie
To sell her poor Jenny for siller an' lan'!

He's always compleenin' frae mornin' to e'enin',
He hoasts and he hirples the weary day lang;
He's doyl't and he's dozin', his bluid it is frozen,
O, dreary's the night wi' a crazy auld man!
He's doyl't and he's dozin', his bluid it is frozen,
O, dreary's the night wi' a crazy auld man!

He hums and he hankers, he frets and he cankers,
I never can please him, do a' that I can;
He's peevish and jealous of a' the young fellows:

O, dool on the day I met wi' an auld man!
He's peevish and jealous of a' the young fellows:
O, dool on the day I met wi' an auld man!

My auld auntie Katie upon me takes pity,

I'll do my endeavour to follow her plan;
I'll cross him, and wrack him, until I heart-break hi
And then his auld brass will buy me a new pan.
I'll cross him, and wrack him, until I heart-break him,
And then his auld brass will buy me a new pan.

THE BONNIE WEE THING.

Tune-"Bonnie wee thing."

["Composed," says the poet, "on my little idol, the charming, lovely Davies."]

BONNIE wee thing, cannie wee thing,

Lovely wee thing, wert thou mine,

I wad wear thee in my bosom,

Lest my jewel I should tine.
Wishfully I look and languish

In that bonnie face o' thine;
And my heart it stounds wi' anguish,
Lest my wee thing be na mine.

Wit, and grace, and love, and beauty
In a constellation shine;

To adore thee is my duty,

Goddess o' this soul o' mine!
Bonnie wee thing, cannie wee thing,
Lovely wee thing, wert thou mine,

I wad wear thee in my bosom,
Lest my jewel I should tine!

THE TITHER MORN.

To a Highland Air.

["The tune of this song," says Burns, "is originally from the Highlands. I have heard Gaelic song to it, which was not by any means a lady's song." "It occurs," says Sir Harris Nicolas, "in the Museum, without the name of Burns." It was sent in the poet's own handwriting to Johnson, and is believed to be his composition.]

THE tither morn,

When I forlorn,

Aneath an oak sat moaning,

I did na trow

I'd see my Jo,

Beside me, gain the gloaming.

But he sae trig,

Lap o'er the rig,

And dawtingly did cheer me,

When I, what reck,

Did least expec',

To see my lad so near me.

His bonnet he,

A thought ajee,

Cock'd sprush when first he clasp'd me;

[Believed to relate to the poet's parting with Clarinda. "These exquisitely affecting stanzas," says Scott, "contain the essence of a thousand love-tales." They are in the Museum.]

AE fond kiss, and then we sever;

Ae fareweel, and then for ever!

Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.

Who shall say that fortune grieves him
While the star of hope she leaves him?
Me, nae cheerfu' twinkle lights me;
Dark despair around benights me.

I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy,
Naething could resist my Nancy;
But to see her, was to love her;
Love but her, and love for ever.-
Had we never lov'd sae kindly,
Had we never lov'd sae blindly,
Never met or never parted,
We had ne'er been broken hearted.

Fare thee weel, thou first and fairest!
Fare thee weel, thou best and dearest!
Thine be ilka joy and treasure,
Peace, enjoyment, love, and pleasure!
Ae fond kiss, and then we sever;
Ae farewell, alas! for ever!

Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee!

463

LOVELY DAVIES.

Tune-" Miss Muir."

[Written for the Museum, in honour of the witty, the handsome, the lovely, and unfor tunate Miss Davies.]

Like Phoebus in the morning,

When past the shower, and ev'ry flower

The garden is adorning.

As the wretch looks o'er Siberia's shore,

When winter-bound the wave is;