Attend my vow, ye gods! while I
Breathe in the bless'd Britannia,
None's happiness I shall envy
As long's ye grant me Nanny-o.

My bonny, bonny Nanny-o!
My lovely, charming Nanny-o!
I care not though the world know
How dearly I love Nanny-o.

Few of Ramsay's songs present such an union of natural beauty and utter tastelessness as this. To find Lais, and Leda, and Jove, and Danaë in the neighbourhood of four such exquisite lines as the second verse commences with is very surprising. I wish he had oftener remembered the salutary promise of the old song:

I'll bring nae simile frae Jove
My height of extacy to prove ;
And sighing thus-present my love
With roses eke and lilies.

Some old verses bearing the name of this song have been communicated by John Mayne, Esq. author of "Logan braes," to the gentlemen who compiled the Lives of Eminent Scotsmen. They are very curious and very irregular; but if they are "very simple," they are not "very touching;" nor do they equal " My Nannie-o” of Burns, nor approach near the four fine lines I have

VOL. III.

I

mentioned in Ramsay, which hang amid their meaner companions

Like pearls upon an Ethiop's arm.

It is but fair, however, to make the old words as public as possible, and the more so, since opinions have been expressed and comparisons made.

As I came in by Embro' town

By the back o' the bonny city-o,
I heard a young man make his moan-
And O it was a pity-o.

For aye he cried his Nanny-o,

His handsome charming Nanny-o; Nor friend, nor foe can tell, O ho, How dearly I love Nanny-o.

Father, your counsel I wad tak ;
But ye maun not be angry-o:
I'd rather hae Nanny but a plack,

Than the laird's daughter an' her hundred merk.

DUMBARTON'S DRUMS.

Dumbarton's drums beat bonnie-o,

For they mind me of my dear Johnie-o.
How happy am I,

When my soldier is by,

While he kisses and blesses his Annie-o!

'Tis a soldier alone can delight me-o,

For his graceful looks do invite me-o:
While guarded in his arms,

I'll fear no war's alarms,

Neither danger nor death shall e'er fright me-o.

My love is a handsome laddie-o,
Genteel, but ne'er foppish nor gaudie-o:

Though commissions are dear,

Yet I'll buy him one this year;

For he shall serve no longer a cadie-o.

A soldier has honour and bravery-o, Unacquainted with rogues and their knavery-o; He minds no other thing

But the ladies or his king;

For every other care is but slavery-o.

Then I'll be the captain's lady-o;
Farewell all my friends and my daddy-o;

I'll wait no more at home,

But I'll follow with the drum,

And whene'er that beats, I'll be ready-o.

Dumbarton's drums sound bonnie-o,

They are sprightly like my dear Johnie-o:
How happy shall I be

When on my soldier's knee,

And he kisses and blesses his Annie-o!

In Ramsay's collection of 1724 this song appears; the name of the author is not known. There is an air of martial delight about it which has made it retain a place in popular favour. Burns remarks that "Dumbarton Drums is the last of the West Highland airs; and from Dumbarton over the whole tract of country to the confines of Tweedside, there is hardly a tune or song that one can say has taken its origin from any place or transaction in that part of Scotland. The oldest Ayrshire reel is Stewarton Lasses, which was made by the father of the present Sir Walter Montgomery Cunningham: since which period there has indeed been local music in that country in great plenty. Johnie Faa is the only old song which I could ever trace as belonging to the county of Ayr." There is an old lyric of some merit known by the name of " Peggie," which claims localization in that wide district; and several others might be mentioned.

PATIE AND PEGGY.

By the delicious warmness of thy mouth,
And rowing een, which smiling tell the truth,
I guess, my lassie, that as well as I

You're made for love, and why should ye deny?

But ken ye, lad, gin we confess o'er soon,
Ye think us cheap, and syne the wooing's done:
The maiden that o'er quickly tines her pow'r,
Like unripe fruit, will taste but hard and sour.

Bu twhen they hing o'er lang upon the tree,
Their sweetness they may tine, and sae may ye:
Red-cheeked you completely ripe appear,
And I have thol'd and woo'd a lang half-year.

Then dinna pu' me; gently thus I fa'
Into my Patie's arms for good and a':
But stint your wishes to this frank embrace,
And mint nae farther till we've got the grace.

O charming armfu'! hence, ye cares, away,
I'll kiss my treasure a' the live lang day:
A' night I'll dream my kisses o'er again,
Till that day come that ye'll be a' my ain.