The Banks of Mith.

TUNE-"Robie donna Gorach."

THE Thames flows proudly to the sea,

Where royal cities stately stand;

But sweeter flows the Nith to me,

Where Cummins ance had high command:

When shall I see that honour'd land,

That winding stream I love so dear! Must wayward Fortune's adverse hand For ever, ever keep me here?

How lovely, Nith, thy fruitful vales,

Where spreading hawthorns gaily bloom!

How sweetly wind thy sloping dales,

Where lambkins wanton through the broom! Though wandering, now, must be my doom, Far from thy bonny banks and braes, May there my latest hours consume, Amang the friends of early days!

It is na, Jean, thy bonny Face.

TUNE-"The Maid's Complaint.”

"These verses," says Cunningham, "were originally in English: Burns bestowed a Scottish dress upon them, and made them utter sentiments connected with his own affections."

IT is na, Jean, thy bonny face
Nor shape that I admire,
Although thy beauty and thy grace
Might weel awake desire.
Something, in ilka part o' thee,

To praise, to love, I find;
But, dear as is thy form to me,
Still dearer is thy mind.

Nae mair ungenerous wish I hae,

Nor stronger in my breast,
Than if I canna mak thee sae,

At least to see thee blest.

Content am I, if Heaven shall give

But happiness to thee:

And as wi' thee I'd wish to live,

For thee I'd bear to die.

Simmer's a pleasant Time.

TUNE-" Aye Waukin, O."

SIMMER's a pleasant time,

Flowers of every colour;

The water rins o'er the heugh, And I long for my true lover.

Aye waukin, O,

Waukin still and wearie :

Sleep I can get nane

For thinking on my dearie.

When I sleep I dream,

When I wauk I'm eerie;

Sleep I can get nane

For thinking on my dearie.

Lanely night comes on,

A' the lave are sleepin';

I think on my bonny lad,

And I blear my een w' greetin'.

Yon wild Mossy Mountains.

TUNE-"Yon wild mossy Mountains."

"This song," says the poet, "alludes to a part of my private history which it is of no consequence to the world to know."

YON wild mossy mountains sae lofty and wide,

That nurse in their bosom the youth o' the Clyde,

Where the grouse lead their coveys through the heather

to feed,

And the shepherd tends his flock as he pipes on his reed; Where the grouse lead their coveys through the heather to feed,

And the shepherd tends his flock as he pipes on his reed.

Not Gowrie's rich valleys, nor Forth's sunny shores,
To me hae the charms o' yon wild mossy moors;
For there, by a lanely, sequester'd clear stream,
Resides a sweet lassie, my thought and my dream.
For there, by a lanely, sequester'd clear stream,
Resides a sweet lassie, my thought and my dream.

Amang thae wild mountains shall still be my path,
Ilk stream foaming down its ain green narrow strath;
For there, wi' my lassie, the day-lang I rove,
While o'er us, unheeded, flee the swift hours o' love.
For there, wi' my lassie, the day-lang I rove,
While o'er us, unheeded, flee the swift hours o' love.

She is not the fairest, although she is fair;
O' nice education but sma' is her share;
Her parentage humble as humble can be;
But I love the dear lassie because she lo'es me.
Her parentage humble as humble can be,
But I love the dear lassie because she lo'es me.

To beauty what man but maun yield him a prize,
In her armour of glances, and blushes, and sighs?
And when wit and refinement hae polish'd her darts,
They dazzle our een as they flee to our hearts.

And when wit and refinement hae polish'd her darts,
They dazzle our een as they flee to our hearts.

But kindness, sweet kindness, in the fond sparkling ee,
Has lustre outshining the diamond to me;
And the heart-beating love, as I'm clasp'd in her arms,
Oh, these are my lassie's all-conquering charms!

And the heart-beating love, as I'm clasp'd in her arms,
Oh, these are my lassie's all-conquering charms!