ELEGIAC SONG.

TUNE" Captain O'Kain.”

IN life's thoughtless morn unacquainted with sorrow, How light danc'd my heart to the music of joy! No love-sighing bridegroom-no laurel-crown'd hero, Was ever so chearful, so happy as I.

But ah! these delicious moments are fled,

Black clouds of affliction condense round my head,

The friend I admir'd in boyhood expir'd,
And Mary, my soul's dearest object, is dead.

I fly to the scenes where so often we sported,
There all that I see only sharpens my pain;
Beneath that old tree the dear maiden I courted,
I shall never behold her again!

She's gone...

And here, with my friend, where the stream dashes o'er

This rock's craggy side, with re-echoing roar,

What joys have I tasted! now sadly contrasted!

The sound seems to tell me my friend is no more!

But soul-raising hope, to dispel my deep anguish,
Points happier prospects beyond yon blue sky,
And whispering tells me, "forbear thus to languish,
"Thy friends thou shalt meet in the regions on high."
On hope then depending, I'll strive to resign,

Nor blame with injustice the mandate divine;

A few years may place me where they shall embrace me→→→ Soon, soon may the joys of that moment be mine!

ELIZA.

TUNE-" Loch Erroch side."

When sleep seals up my wearied e'e,

"In dreams thy angel fort I see;
"And in fond raptures say to thee,

"O! dinna leave me, Mary!"

OH! say Eliza, lovely sprite!

Why dost thou like a meteor bright,

Come gliding in the dreams of night,

ANDERSON.

When freed from bitter strife and care,

Sleep comes, my senses to repair,

Thy witching smiles I often share

In pleasing dreams, Eliza.

I wonder oft, nor can I tell,

Why some myterious magic spell

Thus makes thee in my bosom dwell,
By day and night, Eliza !

Were not my youthful season fled,
And age descending on my head,

By envious tongues it might be said
That I adore Eliza.

Nor could I well the charge deny,
For as the source of light on high
Devotion claims from ev'ry eye;

So all must love Eliza.

When wayward fortune bids me roam,
Far from the dear delights of home;

Then to my eyelids thou dost come-
I wake, and bless Eliza.

If exil❜d on some desert shore,

Where human foot ne'er trod before,

A gleam of joy it wou'd restore,

To dream of thee, Eliza.

Sweet peace be thine, enchanting fair! Long, long may time thy beauty spare! And oh ! may rankling grief and care

Be strangers to Eliza.

THE LAMENT.

TUNE-"Neil Gow's lamentation for Abercairney."

YE tuneful birds, why do you sing?

Ye lambs, why do you play?

Ye early flow'rs that deck the spring,
Why do you bloom so gay?

Sweet silver stream, thy murmurs seem

To suit my song of woe,

By thee I'll stray, both night and day,
With thine my plaint shall flow.

When Anna, empress of my heart,

Preferr'd another swain ;

Tho' keen I felt affliction's smart,

How slight was then my pain!

My dearest friend must now descend

Into the narrow tomb;

He's gone ! he's gone

!...I'm left alone

To wail his hapless doom.