Low in her grassy form. Here shall the shepherd make his seat, And here, by sweet endearing stealth, Despising worlds with all their wealth The flowers shall vie in all their charms And birks extend their fragrant arms Here haply too, at vernal dawn, Mild-chequering through the trees, Let lofty firs, and ashes cool, Let fragrant birks in woodbines drest And, for the little songster's nest, The close embowering thorn. So may old Scotia's darling hope, Spring, like their fathers, up to prop The grace be-"Athole's honest men, VERSES WRITTEN WHILE STANDING BY THE FALL OF FYERS, NEAR LOCH NESS. AMONG the heathy hills and ragged woods, As high in air the bursting torrents flow, As deep recoiling surges foam below; Prone down the rock the whitening sheet de scends, And viewless Echo's ear, astonished, rends. Dim seen, through rising mists and ceaseless showers, The hoary cavern, wide surrounding, lowers; Still through the gap the struggling river toils, And still below, the horrid caldron boils * CASTLE-GORDON. Designed to be sung to Morag, a Highland tune, of which Burns was extremely fond. — CURRIE. STREAMS that glide in Orient plains, Spicy forests, ever gay, Shading from the burning ray Bent on slaughter, blood, and spoil; I leave the tyrant and the slave; Give me the groves that lofty brave Wildly here, without control, Nature reigns and rules the whole; She plants the forest, pours the flood. THE BONNY LASS OF ALBANY. TUNE- Mary's Dream. Journeying through the Highlands with a Jacobite companion, Burns could not but feel a little more enthusiastic than he generally did regarding the memory of the Stuarts. His visit to the natal district of those ancestors whom he believed to have followed the Cavalier standard, would give increased energy to his feelings of romantic loyalty. Connecting these considerations with the fact of Prince Charles having this very month, [Sept. 1787] declared the legitimacy of his hitherto supposed natural daughter, styled Duchess of Albany, I deem it probable that it was at this time that Burns composed a song in honor of that lady which has not till now seen the light. My heart is wae, and unco wae, This lovely maid's of royal blood In the rolling tide of spreading Clyde But there's a youth, a witless youth, That fills the place where she should be;3 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, 1 Bute. superiority 2 Rothsay, the county town of Bute, gave a title to the eldest sons of the kings of Scotland (Duke of Rothsay). 3 An allusion to the Prince of Wales. |