Thefe are the noble hero's lot,
Obtain'd in glorious wars:
Welcome, my VARO, to my breaft,
Thy arms about me twine,
And make me once again as blest,
As I was lang fyne.
Methinks around us on each bough,
A thousand Cupids play,
Whilft thro' the groves I walk with you,
Each object makes me gay:
Since your return the fun and moon
With brighter beams do fhine,
Streams murmur foft notes while they run,
As they did lang fyne.
Defpife the court and din of state;
Let that to their fhare fall,
Who can esteem fuch flav'ry great,
While bounded like a ball:
But funk in love, upon my arms
Let your brave head recline,
We'll please ourselves with mutual charms,
As we did lang fyne.
O'er moor and dale, with your gay friend,
You may pursue the chace,
And, after a blyth bottle, end
All cares in thy embrace :
And in a vacant rainy day
You fhall be wholly mine;
We'll make the hours run fmooth away,
And laugh at lang fyne.
The hero, pleas'd with the fweet air,
And figns of generous love,
Which had been utter'd by the fair,
Bow'd to the pow'rs above:
Next day, with confent and glad hafte,
Th' approach'd the facred fhrine;
Where the good prieft the couple bleft,
And put them out of pine.
The Lafs of LIVINGSTON.
AIN'D with her flighting Jamie's love,
Bell dropt a tear
The Gods defcended from above,
Well pleas'd to hear
They heard the praises of the youth
From her own tongue
Who now converted was to truth,
And thus fhe fung- and thus fhe fung:
Bleft days when our ingenuous fex,
More frank and kind - more frank and kind,
Did not their lov'd adorers vex ;
But spoke their mind- but fpoke their mind.
Repenting now, fhe promis'd fair,
Wou'd he return - wou'd he return,
She ne'er again wou'd give him care,
Or caufe him mourn or caufe him mourn.
Why lov'd I thee, deferving fwain,
Yet ftill thought fhame
yet ftill thought fhame, When he my yielding heart did gain, to own my flame ?
Why took I pleasure to torment,
And feem too coy and feem too coy?
Which makes me now alas lament
My flighted joy my flighted joy.
While love's young pow'r with his foft wing
O do not with a filly pride,
Or low defignor low defign,
Refuse to be a happy bride,
But answer plain—but answer plain.
Thus the fair monrner wail'd her crime,
With flowing eyes with flowing eyes.
Glad Jamie heard her all the time,
With fweet furprise with sweet furprise.
Some God had led him to the grove;
His mind unchang'd his mind unchang'd,
Flew to her arms, and cry'd, My love,
I am reveng'd I am reveng'd!
PEGGY, 1 must love thee.
S from a rock past all relief,
The fhipwrackt Colin spying
His native foil, o'ercome with grief,
Half funk in waves, and dying:
With the next morning fun he fpies
A fhip, which gives unhop'd furprise;
New life fprings up, he lifts his eyes
With joy, and waits her motion.
So when by her whom long I lov❜d,
I fcorn'd was, and deserted,
Low with despair my spirits mov'd,
To be for ever parted:
Thus droopt I, till diviner grace
I found in Peggy's mind and face;
Ingratitude appear'd then base,
But virtue more engaging.
Then now fince happily I've hit,
I'll have no more delaying;
Let beauty yield to manly wit,
We lofe ourselves in staying:
I'll hafte dull courtship to a close,
Since marriage can my fears oppose:
Why should we happy minutes lofe,
Since, Peggy, I must love thee.
Men may be foolish, if they please,
And deem't a lover's duty,
To figh, and facrifice their ease,
Doating on a proud beauty :
Such was my cafe for many a year,
Still hope fucceeding to my fear,
Falfe Betty's charms now disappear,
Since Peggy's far outshine them.
BESSY BELL and MARY GRAY.
Belly Bell and Mary Gray,
They are twa bonny laffes,
They bigg'd a bower on yon burn-brae,
And theek'd it o'er wi' rashes.
Fair Beffy Bell I loo'd yeftreen,
And thought I ne'er cou'd alter;
But Mary Grey's twa pawky een,
They gar my fancy falter.
Now Belly's hair's like a lint-tap;
She smiles like a May morning,
When Phoebus ftarts frae Thetis' lap,
The hills with rays adorning:
White is her neck, faft is her hand,
Her wafte and feet's fu' genty 3
With ilka grace fhe can command;
Her lips, O wow! they're dainty.
And Mary's locks are like a craw,
Her een like diamonds glances;
She's ay fae clean, redd up and braw,
She kills whene'er the dances:
Blyth as a kid, with wit at will.
She blooming, tight, and tall is
And guides her airs fa gracefu' ftill,
O Jove, fhe's like thy Pallas.
Dear Belly Bell and Mary Gray,
Ye unco fair opprefs us;
Our fancies jee between you twa,
Ye are fic bonny laffes :
Wae's me! for baith I canna get,
To ane by law we're ftented;
Then I'll draw cuts, and take my fate,
And be with ane contented.
HO' for feven years and mair, honour fhou'd reave me,
To fields where cannons rair, thou need na grieve thee:
For deep in my fpirits thy fweets are indented;
And love fhall preferve ay what love has imprinted.
Leave thee, leave thee, I'll never leave thee,
Gang the warld as it will, dearest, believe me.
O Jonny, I'm jealous whene'er ye discover My fentiments yielding, ye'll turn a loose rover ; And nought i' the warld wad vex my heart fairer, If you prove unconftant, and fancy ane fairer. Grieve me, grieve me, oh it wad grieve me! A' the lang night and day, if you deceive me.
My Nelly, let never fic fancies oppress ye, For, while my blood's warm, I'll kindly carefs ye: Your blooming faft beauties firft beeted love's fire, Your vertue and wit make it ay flame the higher. Leave thee, leave thee, I'll never leave thee, Gang the warld as it will, deareft, believe me.
Then, Jonny, I frankly this minute allow ye To think me your miftrifs, for love gars me trow ye;
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