of the Dominie of the High School, Nicol, who had purchased a small farm, called Laggan, at Dunscore, in Dumfriesshire. There he was in the habit of spending his autumnal holidays, and thither he invited Rob and Allan to partake of his hospitality. Day is said to have dawned before the congenial cronies, the host and his guests, parted company. Afterwards the two latter, the Poet and the Musician, agreed to give the night some fitting celebration. As the result of their compact, Burns with his verses, Masterton with his melody, hit off together, at a heat, this perfect bacchanalian.] Tune-"Willie brewed a peck o' maut." O, WILLIE brewed a peck o' maut, And Rob and Allan cam' to pree; Three blither hearts, that lee-lang night, Ye wad na find in Christendie. We are na fou, we 're no that fou, But just a drappie in our e'e ; The cock may craw, the day may daw, THE BATTLE OF KILLIECRANKIE. [With the exception of the choral refrain, which dated back almost to the day of Killiecrankie, this was from the hand of Burns and no mere adaptation.] Tune-"Killiecrankie." WHARE ha'e ye been sae braw, lad? Ye wad na been sae cantie, O; I fought at land, I fought at sea; And aye we'll taste the barley But I met the Devil an' Dundee bree. Here are we met, three merry boys, Three merry boys, I trow, are we; And mony a night we 've merry been, And mony mae we hope to be! We are na fou, &c. It is the moon, I ken her horn, That's blinkin' in the lift sae hie; She shines sae bright to wile us hame, But, by my sooth, she 'll wait a wee! We are na fou, &c. Wha first shall rise to gang awa', On the braes o' Killiecrankie, O. [An' ye had been whare, &c.] The bauld Pitcur fell in à furr, An' Clavers got a clankie, O; Or I had fed an Athole gled On the braes o' Killiecrankie, O. [An' ye had been whare I ha'e been, Ye wad na been sae cantie, O; An' ye had seen what I ha'e seen, On the bracs o' Killiecrankie, O.] THE BLUE-EYED LASS. [A beautiful young creature of sweet seventeen was the heroine of this charming lyric. She was the daughter of the Rev. Mr. Jeffrey, of Lochmaben, under whose roof-beams Burns And aye we'll taste the barley slept one night, in the December of 1789. Upon bree. the following morning the Poet handed these My daddie says, gin I'll forsake him, Yestreen, at the Valentine's dealing, The last Halloween I lay waukin- Glen! Come, counsel, dear Tittie! don't tarry- The lad I lo’e dearly, Tam Glen. FRAE THE FRIENDS AND LAND I LOVE. [The following is not partially, but wholly, the Poet's production.] Tune-"Carron Side." FRAE the friends and land I love, Driven by Fortune's felly spite, Frae my best beloved I rove, Never mair to taste delight; Never mair maun hope to find, Ease frae toil, relief frae care: When remembrance wracks the mind, Pleasures but unveil despair. Brightest climes shall mirk appear, Desert ilka blooming shore, Till the Fates, nae mair severe, Friendship, love, and peace restore; Till Revenge, wi laurelled head, CRAIGIE-BURN. [The following stanzas were written by Burns to further the suit of his friend, Mr. Gillespie, then trying to gain the hand of Jean Lorrimer (daughter of a substantial farmer of Kemmis Hall), who had been born at Craigie burn. The heroine of this, and of eight other of the Poet's most exquisite lyrics, was one of the fairest of fair blondes--the Chloris of his song-the one about whom he wrote "Sae flaxen were her ringlets," and "Lassie wi' the lintwhite locks." Her after-history was marked by many sad vicissitudes. Estranged from Mr. Gillespie before he had made much advance in his courtship, she married an Englishman named Whelpdale, whose prodigal expenditure led at last to their separation-the fair-haired Jean Lorrimer, that had been, dying at length, in the September of 1831, after having struggled through years of broken health and the bitterest impoverish ment.] Tune-"Craigie-burn-wood." SWEET closes the evening on Craigieburn-wood, And blithely awaukens the morrow: But the pride of the spring in the Craigieburn-wood Can yield to me nothing but sorrow. Beyond thee, dearie, beyond thee, dearie, And oh, to be lying beyond thee! Oh, sweetly, soundly, weel may he sleep That's laid in the bed beyond thee! I see the spreading leaves and flowers, |