JOCKEY'S TA'EN THE PARTING KISS.

Tune-" Jockey's ta'en the parting Kiss."

I.

JOCKEY's ta'en the parting kiss,
O'er the mountains he is gane;
And with him is a' my bliss,

Nought but griefs with me remain.
Spare my luve, ye winds that blaw,
Plashy sleets and beating rain!
Spare my luve, thou feathery snaw,
Drifting o'er the frozen plain.

II.

When the shades of evening creep
O'er the day's fair, gladsome e'e,
Sound and safely may he sleep,
Sweetly blithe his waukening be!
He will think on her he loves,
Fondly he'll repeat her name;
For where'er he distant roves,

Jockey's heart is still at hame.

Neither tradition nor the Poet's notes say any thing respecting this song: it commences with the first line of an old lyric.

LADY ONLIE.

Tune-" The Ruffian's Rant."

I.

A' THE lads o' Thornie-bank,

When they gae to the shore o' Bucky,

They'll step in an' tak' a pint

Wi' Lady Onlie, honest Lucky!
Lady Onlie, honest Lucky,

Brews good ale at shore o' Bucky;
I wish her sale for her gude ale,
The best on a' the shore o' Bucky.

II.

Her house sae bien, her curch sae clean,
I wat she is a dainty chucky;
And cheerlie blinks the ingle-gleed
Of Lady Onlie, honest Lucky!
Lady Onlie, honest Lucky,

Brews gude ale at shore o' Bucky;
I wish her sale for her gude ale,
The best on a' the shore o' Bucky.

Some portion—it is hard to say how much—of “ Lady Onlie" is old. Burns, in the language of his wife, gave it "a brushing" for the Museum. Other verses have made their appearance since :

"Her foaming ale, her mirthsome tale,

A kiss at times, when things are lucky;
The mirk, mirk hours she lends them wings,
Gude Ladie Onlie, honest Lucky.

"Her drink is strong, her lips are sweet,

I taste them as I go to Buckie;

Sic things maun be if we sell ale,

Quo' Lady Onlie, honest Lucky."

The last line save one is proverbial with those who frequent alehouses. The rustic muse loved to lay the scenes of her songs where

"Ale and wine were stars and moon!"

The wife of Whittlecockpen seems to have been full cousin to "Lady Onlie, honest Lucky :" her merits are set forth in some very graphic verses :—

"There dwalt a wife in Whittlecockpen,
And she brewed gude ale for gentlemen;
Ae night the dame her barm had sett,
When a stranger man came rapp to the yett;
The night dang down baith win' an' weet,
The ale was strang, and the dame was sweet."

THE CHEVALIER'S LAMENT.

Tune-" Captain O'Kean.”

I.

THE small birds rejoice in the green leaves returning, The murmuring streamlet winds clear thro' the vale; The hawthorn trees blow in the dew of the morning,

And wild scattered cowslips bedeck the green dale: But what can give pleasure, or what can seem fair, While the lingering moments are numbered by care? No flow'rs gaily springing, nor birds sweetly singing, Can soothe the sad bosom of joyless despair.

II.

The deed that I dared, could it merit their malice,
A king and a father to place on his throne?
His right are these hills, and his right are these valleys,
Where the wild beasts find shelter, but I can find

none:

But 'tis not my sufferings thus wretched, forlorn ; My brave gallant friends! 'tis your ruin I mourn;

Your deeds proved so loyal in hot-bloody trialAlas! I can make you no sweeter return!

"Yesterday," says Burns to Cleghorn, as I was riding through a tract of melancholy, joyless moors, between Galloway and Ayrshire, it being Sunday, I turned my thoughts to psalms, and hymns, and spiritual songs; and your favourite air, Captain O'Kean,' coming at length into my head, I tried these words to it. I am tolerably pleased with the verses; but as I have only a sketch of the tune, I leave it with you to try if they suit the measure of the music." Cleghorn answered that the words delighted him, and fitted the tune exactly. "I wish," added he, " that you would send me a verse or two more; and, if you have no objection, I would have it in the jacobite style.-Suppose it should be sung after the fatal field of Culloden, by the unfortunate Charles." The Poet took his friend's advice, and infused a jacobite spirit into the first verse as well as the second.

Burns, in this song, touches on the birthright of the Stuarts; and though their claim to the hills and valleys has been denied, this country has respected the principle; for the present royal line owe the throne to their descent. In choosing a king for themselves, the people asserted their natural right: nevertheless, it is remarkable that they made their election almost in the spirit of the law of succession. France has followed the example. The Gothic and Celtic tribes love to talk of their right to choose a king, as the Israelites did of old; but they show by their actions such respect for their old line of princes as confound all speculations and theories.