I ne'er can so much virtue find,
Nor such perfection see;
Then I'll renounce all womankind,
My Peggy, after thee.

No new-blown beauty fires my

With Cupid's raving rage;

heart

But thine, which can such sweets impart,
Must all the world engage.

"Twas this, that like the morning sun,

And when its destin'd day is done,

With Peggy let me die.

Ye powers that smile on virtuous love,
And in such pleasure share;
You who its faithful flames approve,
With pity view the fair:

Restore my Peggy's wonted charms,

Those charms so dear to me!

Oh! never rob them from these arms-
I'm lost if Peggy die.

When Crawford wrote these words, it is not certain that he knew more of the old song which gave the name to his own than the single line which has descended to the present times, "My dearie an thou die." Burns briefly remarks," Another beautiful song of Crawford's." Cupid might have been spared from the third verse, and the flames of love from the fourth: but he was

no regular dealer in darts and flames, like the poets of his time-his failings were more in the pastoral way, and we have few lyrics of a purer or more natural or more graceful character, than those which he composed.

FOR EVER, FORTUNE, WILT THOU PROVE.

For ever, Fortune, wilt thou prove
An unrelenting foe to love?

And when we meet a mutual heart
Come in between and bid us part?
Bid us sigh on from day to day,
And wish and wish the soul away,
Till youth and genial years are flown,
And all the life of love is gone?

But busy busy still art thou

To bind the loveless, joyless vow-
The heart from pleasure to delude,
And join the gentle to the rude.
For once, O Fortune, hear my prayer,
And I absolve thy future care;

All other blessings I resign

Make but the dear Amanda mine.

This beautiful complaint against the caprice of fortune

was written by James Thomson; and the name by which it is commonly known is "Logan Water," though neither by allusion nor circumstance can such locality be claimed for it. The last four lines of the first verse, and the first four lines of the second, contain all that can be urged concerning the disappointment of youthful affection ; and many a heart will respond to their pathetic complaint. This song first appeared united to the air of "Logan Water," in the Orpheus Caledonius in 1725.

MY LOVE ANNIE'S VERY BONNIE.

What numbers shall the Muse repeat?

What verse be found to praise my Annie?
On her ten thousand graces wait,

Each swain admires, and owns she's bonnie.
Since first she trod the happy plain

She sets each youthful heart on fire;
Each nymph does to her swain complain
That Annie kindles new desire.

This lovely darling, dearest care,

This new delight, this charming Annie,
Like summer's dawn, she's fresh and fair,
When Flora's fragrant breezes fan ye.

All day the amorous youths convene,
Joyous they sport and play before her;
All night, when she no more is seen,

In blissful dreams they still adore her.

Among the crowd Amyntor came,

He look'd, he lov'd, he bow'd to Annie;
His rising sighs express his flame,

His words were few, his wishes many.
With smiles the lovely maid reply'd,
Kind shepherd, why should I deceive ye?
Alas! your love must be deny'd,

This destin'd breast can ne'er relieve ye.

Young Damon came with Cupid's art,
His wiles, his smiles, his charms beguiling,
He stole away my virgin heart;

Cease, poor Amyntor, cease bewailing.
Some brighter beauty you may find;

On yonder plain the nymphs are many:
Then choose some heart that's unconfin'd,

And leave to Damon his own Annie.

I have a strong belief that the name of this song should be "Annan Water;" a fine ballad of that name will be found in this work, with many marks of antiquity about it, and possessing the line, "O, my love Annie's very bonnie." Burns was informed that the honour belonged to Allan Water, in Strathallan; but what I have said seems nearly decisive of the question.

Annan Water is no vulgar stream: it is noticed by Collins in his admirable Ode on the Superstitions of Scotland, in the lays of Sir Walter Scott, and it runs smooth in many a lesser song. The banks, which in many places are very romantic, were in ancient times so thickly clothed with wood, that it was the vaunt of a Halliday, a warlike laird of Corehead, that he could let his deer-dog into the wood at his own door, and it would never run off the land of a Halliday, nor be seen for wood till it came out at the firth of Solway— a fair inheritance. This is one of Crawford's songs. It offers violence to propriety in seeking to unite Amyntor in wedlock with Annie-but after she could fall in love with Damon, she was capable of any foolish thing.

I HAD A HORSE.

I had a horse, and I had nae mair,
I gat him frae my daddy;

My purse was light, and my heart was sair.

But my wit it was fu' ready.
And sae I thought me on a time,
Outwittens of my daddy,

To fee mysel' to a lowland laird,
Wha had a bonnie lady.