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Loud blaw the frosty breezes,
The snaws the mountains cover ; Like winter on me seizes,
Since my young highland rover
Far wanders nations over. Where'er he go, where'er he stray,
May heaven be his warden ; Return hiin safe to fair Strathspey,
And bonnie Castle-Gordon !
The trees now naked groaning,
Shall soon wi' leaves be hinging, The birdies dowie moaning,
Shall a' be blythely singing,
And every flower be springing.
When by his mighty warden
And bonnie Castle-Gordon*,
RAVING WINDS AROUND HER BLOWING.
Tune, “ M'Grigor of Rero's Lament."
Raving winds around her blowing,
be lying concealed in some cave of the Highlands, after the battle of Culloden. This song was written before the year 1788.
E. * The young highland rover is supposed to be the young chevalier, Prince Charles-Edward. E.
Hail, thou gloomy night of sorrow,
“O’er the past too fondly wandering,
MUSING ON THE ROARING OCEAN.
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, Whisp'riug 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!
The occasion on which this poem was written is unknown to the editor. It is an early composio tion.
BLYTHE WAS SHE.
Blythe, blythe and merry was she,
Blythe was she but and ben: Blythe by the banks of Erin,
And blythe in Glenturit glen.
By Oughtertyre grows the aik,
On Yarrow banks, the birken shaw;
Her looks were like a flow'r in May,
Her smile was like a simmer mora ;
As ony lamb upon a lee ;
The Highland hills I've wander'd wide,
And o'er the Lowlands I hae been; But Phemie was the blythest lass That ever trode the dewy green.
A ROSE-BUD BY MY EARLY WALK.
A rose-bud by my early walk,
All on a dewy morning.
Ere twice the shades o' dawn are fied,
And drooping rich the dewy head,
It scents the early morning.
Within ihe bush, her covert nest
Sae early in the morning.
She soon shall see her tender brood,
Awake the early morning.
That tents thy early morning.
So thou sweet rose-bud, young and
gay, Shalt eauteous blaze upon the day, And bless the parent's evening ray
That watch'd thy early morning*.
WHERE BRAVING ANGRY WINTER'S
Tune, “ N. Gow's Lamentation For Abercairny."
Where, braving angry winter's storms,
The lofty Ochels rise,
First blest my wondering eyes.
A lonely gem surveys,
With art's most polish'd blaze.
* This song was written during the winter of 1787.
Miss J. C. daughter of a friend of the bard, is the heroine.
Blest be the wild, sequester'd shade,
And bless the day and hour,
When first I felt their pow'r !
May seize my fleeting breath;
Must be a stronger death.
TIBBIE, I HAE SEEN THE DAY.
Túne, “ Invercald's Reel."
You would na been sae shy;
But trowth, I care na by.
Yestreen I met you on the moor,
O Tibbie, I hae, &c.
I doubt na, lass, but ye may think,
O Tibbie, I hae, de.
But sorrow tak him that's sae mean,
O Tibbie, I hae, &c.
Altho' a lad were e'er sae smart,
o Tibbie, I hae, Oca