I left the lines and tented field,
Where lang I'd been a lodger,
My humble knapsack a' my wealth,
A poor and honest sodger.

A leal, light heart was in my breast,
My hand unstain'd wi' plunder;
And for fair Scotia, hame again,

I cheery on did wander:

I thought upon the banks o' Coyl,
I thought upon my Nancy,
I thought upon' the witching smile
That caught my youthful fancy.

At length I reach'd the bonie glen,
Where early life I sported;

I pass'd the mill and trysting thorn,
Where Nancy aft I courted:
Wha spied I but my ain dear maid,
Down by her mother's dwelling!
And turn'd me round to hide the flood
That in my e'en was swelling.

Wi' alter'd voice, quoth I, Sweet lass,
Sweet as yon hawthorn's blossom,

O! happy, happy may he be,

That's dearest to thy bosom :

My purse is light, I've far to gang,

And fain wad be thy lodger;

I've serv'd my king and country lang-
Take pity on a sodger.

Sae wistfully she gaz'd on me,

And lovelier was than ever ;

Quo' she, A sodger ance I lo'ed,
Forget him shall I never :

go

Our humble cot, and hamely fare,

Ye freely shall partake it;

That gallant badge-the dear cockade,
Ye're welcome for the sake o't.

She gaz'd-she redden'd like a rose-
Syne pale like ony lily;2

She sank within my arms, and cried,
Art thou my ain dear Willie ? *
By Him who made yon sun and sky!
By whom true love's regarded,
I am the man; and thus may still
True lovers be rewarded!

The wars are o'er, and I'm come hame,
And find thee still true-hearted;
Tho' poor in gear, we're rich in love,
And mair we' se ne'er be parted.
Quo' she, My grandsire left me gowd,
A mailen plenish'd fairly;
And come, my faithfu' sodger lad,
Thou'rt welcome to it dearly!

gold farm stocked

For gold the merchant ploughs the main,
The farmer ploughs the manor ;

But glory is the sodger's prize,
The sodger's wealth is honor:

The brave poor sodger ne'er despise,
Nor count him as a stranger;
Remember he's his country's stay,
In day and hour of danger.

*This beautiful point in the ballad, which Burns singled out as the most telling part for illustration in a picture which David Allan proposed to paint from the song, is almost borrowed from the old ballad called "Geordie," which our poet had furnished to Johnson, No. 346, Vol. IV.

"When first she look'd the letter on,

She was baith red and rosy;
But she had na read a word but twa,
Till she wallow't like a lily."

[This charming ballad, destined to become so widely popular, was sent to Thomson early in April 1793, without a remark from the author, so far as appears in the preserved correspondence. Thomson, with his usual obtuseness, found fault with lines third and fourth, and substituted for the expressive imagery in the text the common-place lines,

"And eyes again with pleasure beam'd,

That had been blear'd with mourning."

Mr. Thomson was hurrying on towards the completion of his first part, containing twenty-five songs, which appeared on 1st July 1793. In June the poet had written to him disapprovingly of any change in the couplet referred to, thus :-"I cannot alter the disputed lines in the Mill, mill O. What you think a defect, I esteem as a positive beauty: so you see how doctors differ."

In the copy of that Part which the poet presented to Miss Graham of Fintry, the lines of Thomson are carefully deleted, and the original reading interlined with the pen.

The following variations are also there inserted in MS :—

And ay I mind't.

2 Syne wallow't like a lily.]

(A correspondent of George Thomson, quoted by Chambers, says that an incident at Brownhill Inn suggested this exquisitely tender song to Burns. He was one summer afternoon at the Inn, with a couple of friends, when a poor wayworn soldier passed the window. Of a sudden it struck the poet to call him in and get the story of his adventures; after listening to which, he all at once fell into one of these fits of abstraction not unusual to him. He was lifted to the region where he had his 'garland and singing-robes' about him, and the result was the admirable song which he sent you for The Mill, Mill O." Chambers adds that "Mill-Mannoch, a sweet pastoral scene on the Coyle, near Coylton Kirk, is supposed to have been the spot where the poet imagined the rencontre of the soldier and his mistress to have taken place."-J. H.)

VERSICLES, A.D. 1793.

THE TRUE LOYAL NATIVES.

(CROMEK, 1808.)

"At this period of our poet's life, when private animosity was made the ground of private quarrel, the following foolish verses were sent as an attack on Burns and his friends for their political opinions."

THE LOYAL NATIVES' VERSES.

"Ye Sons of Sedition, give ear to my song,

Let Syme, Burns, and Maxwell pervade every throng,
With Cracken the attorney and Mundell the quack,
Send Willie, the monger, to hell with a smack."

These lines having been handed over the table to Burns, at a convivial meeting, he instantly indorsed the subjoined reply." -Reliques, p. 168.

YE true "Loyal Natives" attend to my song,

In uproar and riot rejoice the night long;
From Envy and Hatred your core is exempt,

But where is your shield from the darts of Contempt?

[The "Loyal Native Club" of the Burgh of Dumfries was formed on 18th January 1793, "for preserving the Peace, Liberty, and Property, and for supporting the Laws and Constitution of the Country." The president of the Association was Commissary Goldie; and Mr. Francis Sprott, town-clerk, acted as its secretary.

The Dumfries Journal of the period records that "On Tuesday, June 4, 1793, (the King's Birthday), an unusual display of loyalty eminently manifested itself through all ranks of people in this place. The younger members of the community having procured two effigies of Tom Paine, paraded with them through the different streets of this burgh; and at six o'clock in the evening consigned them to the bonfires, amid the patriotic applause of the surrounding crowd. A few ladies on the morning of the auspicious day, brought bandeaux of blue satin ribbon embroidered by their own hands with the words, 'GOD SAVE THE KING!' which were presented in their name to the members of the 'Loyal Native Club,' by the president, and these were worn all day round the hats of

the members." In the evening those young patriots went in a body to a grand ball in the Assembly, and wore the cherished bandeaux across their breasts.

It was of this period that Lockhart thus writes :-" All men's eyes were upon Burns. He was the standing marvel of the place; his toasts, his jokes, his epigrams, his songs, were the daily food of conversation and scandal; and he soon began to be considered among the local admirers and disciples of the good old King and his minister, as the most dangerous of all the apostles of sedition, and to be shunned accordingly." These remarks are followed by the introduction of the affecting anecdote related to that biographer by David M'Culloch, younger of Ardwell, which Carlyle so strikingly refers to in his review of Lockhart's work. "Burns was walking alone on the shady side of the principal street of the town, while the opposite side was gay with successive groups of gentlemen and ladies, all drawn together for the festivities of the night, not one of whom appeared willing to recognize him. Mr. M'Culloch dismounted and joined Burns, who on his proposing to him to cross the street, said 'Nay, nay, my young friend, that's all over now,' and quoted, after a pause, some verses of Lady Grizzell Baillie's pathetic ballad :

"His bonnet stood ance fu' fair on his brow,

(His auld ane look'd better than mony ane's new)
But now he lets't wear ony gate it will hing,
And casts himself dowie upon the corn-bing."]

chest

ON COMMISSARY GOLDIE'S BRAINS.

(CUNNINGHAM, 1834.)

LORD, to account who dares thee call,
Or e'er dispute thy pleasure?
Else why, within so thick a wall,

Enclose so poor a treasure?

[This biting bit of sarcasm displays the poet's manner of throwing "the darts of contempt" on the whole core of Loyal Natives. "When the Head is sick, the whole body is full of trouble."]