Bent on slaughter, blood, and spoil:
Woods that ever verdant wave,

I leave the tyrant and the slave ;
Give me the groves that lofty brave
The storms, by Castle-Gordon.

3 Wildly here, without control,
Nature reigns and rules the whole;
In that sober, pensive mood,
Dearest to the feeling soul,

She plants the forest, pours the flood;
Life's poor day I'll musing rave,
And find at night a sheltering cave,
Where waters flow and wild woods wave,
By bonnie Castle-Gordon.

ELEGY

ON THE LATE MISS BURNET OF MONBODDO.

1 LIFE ne'er exulted in so rich a prize
As Burnet, lovely from her native skies,
Nor envious Death so triumph'd in a blow,
As that which laid th' accomplish'd Burnet low.

2 Thy form and mind, sweet maid, can I forget?
In richest ore the brightest jewel set!

In thee, high Heaven above was truest shown,
As by his noblest work the Godhead best is known.

3 In vain ye flaunt in summer's pride, ye groves;
Thou crystal streamlet with thy flowery shore,
Ye woodland choir that chant your idle loves,
Ye cease to charm-Eliza is no more!

4 Ye heathy wastes immix'd with reedy fens ; Ye mossy streams, with sedge and rushes stored; Ye rugged cliffs, o'erhanging dreary glens,

To you I fly, ye with my soul accord!

5 Princes, whose cumbrous pride was all their worth,
Shall venal lays their pompous exit hail ?
And thou, sweet excellence! forsake our earth,
And not a Muse in honest grief bewail?

6 We saw thee shine in youth and beauty's pride, And virtue's light, that beams beyond the spheres; But like the sun eclipsed at morning tide,

Thou left'st us darkling in a world of tears.

7 The parent's heart that nestled fond in thee,

That heart how sunk, a prey to grief and care! So deck'd the woodbine sweet yon aged tree; So from it ravish'd, leaves it bleak and bare.

FAIR ELIZA,

A GAELIC AIR.

1 TURN again, thou fair Eliza,

Ae kind blink before we part!

Rue on thy despairing lover!

Canst thou break his faithfu' heart?

Turn again, thou fair Eliza ;

If to love thy heart denies,
For pity hide the cruel sentence
Under friendship's kind disguise!

2 Thee, dear maid, hae I offended!
The offence is loving thee:

Canst thou wreck his

peace for ever,

Wha for thine wad gladly die?
While the life beats in my bosom,
Thou shalt mix in ilka throe:
Turn again, thou lovely maiden,
Ae sweet smile on me bestow.

3 Not the bee upon the blossom,
In the pride o' sunny noon;
Not the little sporting fairy,

All beneath the simmer moon:
Not the poet in the moment
Fancy lightens on his e'e,

Kens the pleasure, feels the rapture
That thy presence gies to me.

OH, LUVE WILL VENTURE IN.

TUNE- The Posie.'

1 Он, luve will venture in where it daur na weel be seen, Oh, luve will venture in where wisdom ance has been; But I will down yon river rove, amang the wood sae green

And a' to pu' a posie to my ain dear May.

2 The primrose I will pu,' the firstling o' the year, And I will pu' the pink, the emblem o' my dear, For she's the pink o' womankind, and blooms without

a peer

And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May.

3. I'll pu' the budding rose, when Phoebus peeps in view, For it's like a balmy kiss o' her sweet bonnie mou'; The hyacinth's for constancy, wi' its unchanging blue— And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May.

4 The lily it is pure, and the lily it is fair,
And in her lovely bosom I'll place the lily there;
The daisy's for simplicity and unaffected air-
And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May.

5 The hawthorn I will pu', wi' its locks o' siller gray,
Where, like an aged man, it stands at break o' day,
But the songster's nest within the bush I winna tak away-
And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May.

6 The woodbine I will pu' when the e'enin' star is near,
And the diamond-draps o' dew shall be her e'en sae clear;
The violet's for modesty, which weel she fa's to wear-
And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May.

7 I'll tie the posie round wi' the silken band o' luve, And I'll place it in her breast, and I'll swear by a' above, That to my latest draught o' life the band shall ne'er

remove

And this will be a posie to my ain dear May.

THE BANKS O' DOON.

TUNE- Caledonian Hunt's Delight.'
1 YE banks and braes o' bonnie Doon,
How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair;
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
And I sae weary fu' o' care!

Thou 'lt break my heart, thou warbling bird,
That wantons through the flowering thorn;
Thou minds me o' departed joys,

Departed-never to return.

2 Oft hae I roved by bonnie Doon,
To see the rose and woodbine twine;

And ilka bird sang o' its luve,
And fondly sae did I o' miuc.
Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose.
Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree;
And my fause luver stole my rose,
But ah! he left the thorn wi' me.

SIC A WIFE AS WILLIE HAD.

1 WILLIE WASTLE dwalt on Tweed,

The spot they ca'd it Linkumdoddie;
Willie was a wabster guid,

Could stown a clue wi' ony bodie;
He had a wife was dour and din,
Oh, tinkler Madgie was her mither-
Sic a wife as Willie had,

I wad na gie a button for her.

2 She has an e'e-she has but ane,
The cat has twa the very colour;
Five rusty teeth, forbye a stump,
A clapper tongue wad deave a miller;
A whiskin' beard about her mou',

Her nose and chin they threaten ither.

3 She's bow-hough'd, she's heinshinn'd,

Ae limpin' leg a hand-breed shorter;
She's twisted right, she's twisted left,
To balance fair in ilka quarter :
She has a hump upon her breast,
The twin o' that upon her shouther.

4 Auld baudrons by the ingle sits,

An' wi' her loof her face a-washin':