To Mary in Heaven.

Ayr, gurgling, kiss'd his pebbled shore,
O'erhung with wild woods, thick'ning green;
The fragrant birch, and hawthorn hoar,
Twined amorous round the raptured scene;
The flowers sprang wanton to be prest,
The birds sang love on every spray-
Till too, too soon, the glowing west
Proclaim'd the speed of wingèd day.

Still o'er these scenes my memory wakes,
And fondly broods with miser care!
Time but the impression stronger makes,
As streams their channels deeper wear.
My Mary! dear departed shade!

Where is thy place of blissful rest?

See'st thou thy lover lowly laid?

Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast?

Up in the Morning early.

The chorus of this song is old; but the two stanzas are Burns's.

Up in the morning's no for me,

Up in the morning early;

When a' the hills are cover'd wi' snaw,

I'm sure it's winter fairly.

Cauld -blaws the wind frae east to west,

The drift is driving sairly;

Sae loud and shrill I hear the blast,

I'm sure it's winter fairly.

The birds sit chittering in the thorn,

A' day they fare but sparely;
And lang's the night frae e'en to morn,
I'm sure it's winter fairly.

using on the Roaring Dcean.

TUNE-" Druimion Dubh."

MUSING on the roaring ocean,
Which divides my love and me;
Wearying Heaven in warm devotion,
For his weal where'er he be.

Hope and Fear's alternate billow
Yielding late to Nature's law;
Whispering spirits round my pillow
Talk of him that's far awa'!

Ye whom sorrow never wounded,

Ye who never shed a tear, Care-untroubled, joy-surrounded, Gaudy Day to you is dear.

Gentle Night, do thou befriend me;

Downy Sleep, the curtain draw; Spirits kind, again attend me,

Talk of him that's far awa!

My Heart's in the Highlands.

TUNE-" Faille na Miosg."

My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here;
My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer;
A-chasing the wild deer, and following the roe—
My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go.

Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North,
The birthplace of valour, the country of worth;
Wherever I wander, wherever I rove,
The hills of the Highlands for ever I love.

Farewell to the mountains high cover'd with snow; Farewell to the straths and green valleys below; Farewell to the forests and wild hanging woods; Farewell to the torrents and loud-pouring floods.

My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here;
My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer;
A-chasing the wild deer, and following the roe-
My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go.