year. In the interval, he had come to see it in its true light. (See p. 286 of vol. ii.) Dost thou not rise, indignant shade, And smile wi' spurning scorn, When they wha wad hae starved thy life, Thy senseless turf adorn! Helpless, alane, thou clamb the brae, Wi mickle, mickle toil, And claught th' unfading garland there, clutched Thy sair-won, rightful spoil. And wear it there! and call aloud This axiom undoubted Would thou hae nobles' patronage, "First learn to live without it!" To whom hae much, shall yet be given, But he the helpless, needless wretch, TO MISS FONTENELLE, ON SEEING HER IN A FAVOURITE CHARACTER. SWEET naïveté of feature, Simple, wild, enchanting elf, Wert thou awkward, stiff, affected, THE LEA-RIG. TUNE-The Lea-Rig. "On reading over The Lea-Rig, I immediately set about trying my hand on it; and after all, I could make nothing more of it than the following, which, Heaven knows, is poor enough.” — Burns to Mr. Thomson. WHEN o'er the hill the eastern star Tells bughtin'-time is near, my jo; ewe-milking And owsen frae the furrowed field Down by the burn, where scented birks spent 1 Wi' dew are hanging clear, my jo, joy, darling I'll meet thee on the lea-rig, My ain kind dearie O. In mirkest glen, at midnight hour, If through that glen I gaed to thee, My ain kind dearie O. grassy ridge darkest frightened Although the night were ne'er sae wild, I'd meet thee on the lea-rig, The hunter lo'es the morning sun, twilight December 1st, 1792. 1 For "scented birks," in some copies "birken buds." AULD ROB MORRIS. Auld Rob Morris was written by Burns on the basis of a rude old ditty which appears in Johnson's Museum, and of which he retained only the two initial lines. The second stanza was designed as a description of Charlotte Hamilton. So Burns himself told Miss Dunlop, who communicated the fact to Major, Adair, Charlotte's son, who again is my informant. THERE'S auld Rob Morris that wons in yon glen, dwells He's the king o' guid fellows and wale choice o' auld men ; He has gowd in his coffers, he has owsen and kine, And ae bonny lassie, his darling and mine. She's fresh as the morning, the fairest in May; She's sweet as the evening amang the new hay; As blithe and as artless as the lambs on the lea, And dear to my heart as the light to my ee. But oh! she's an heiress, auld Robin's a laird, And my daddie has nought but a cot-house and yard; A wooer like me maunna hope to come speed, succeed The wounds I must hide that will soon be my dead. death The day comes to me, but delight brings me nane; The night comes to me, but my rest it is gane ; I wander my lane like a night-troubled ghaist, alone And I sigh as my heart it wad burst in my breast. O had she but been of a lower degree, I then might hae hoped she wad smiled upon me! O how past descriving had then been my bliss, As now my distraction no words can express! DUNCAN GRAY. Duncan Gray is likewise composed on the basis, and to the tune, of a rude old song in Johnson's Museum, the name of the hero being alone retained. DUNCAN Gray cam here to woo, |