My Jockey toils upon the plain,

Thro' wind and weet, thro' frost and snaw; And o'er the lea I look fu' fain

When Jockey's owsen hameward ca'. An' aye the night comes round again, When in his arms he taks me a';

An'

aye

he vows he'll be my ain

An lang's he has a breath to draw.

M'PHERSON'S FAREWELL.‡

FAREWELL, ye dungeons dark and strong,
The wretch's destinie:

M'Pherson's time will not be long
On yonder gallows tree.

CHORUS.

Sae rantingly, sae wantonly,

Sae dauntingly gaed he;

He play'd a spring and danc'd it round,
Below the gallows tree.

Burns composed this song, which is printed in Cromek's Reliques, to the beautiful air of ' Macpherson's Farewell.' Macpherson was a famous robber in the beginning of the last century, and was condemned to be hanged at the assizes at Inverness. His exploits, however, as a freebooter, were not aggravated by cruelty. A dispute with one of his own troop, who wished to plunder a gentleman's house while his wife and two children lay on the bier for interment, was the cause of his being betrayed to the vengeance of the law. He was an admirable performer on

Oh, what is death but parting breath ?—

On monie a bloody plain

I've dar'd his face, and in this place
I scorn him yet again!
Sae rantingly, &c.

Untie these bands from off my hands,
And bring to me my sword!
And there's no a man in all Scotland,
But I'll brave him at a word.
Sae rantingly, &c.

I've liv'd a life of sturt and strife;
I die by treachery :

It burns my heart I must depart
And not avenged be.

Sae rantingly, &c.

Now farewell light, thou sunshine bright,
And all beneath the sky!
May coward shame distain his name,
The wretch that dare not die!

the violin, and

Sae rantingly, &c.

his talent for musical composition is shewn not only in his Rant' and 'Pibroch,' but also in his 'Farewell,' which he composed while he was in prison under sentence of death. He played his Farewell' at the foot of the gallows, broke his violin over his knee, and thus died with the same fortitude as he had lived. His sword is preserved at Duff-House, a residence of the Earl Fife. This copy has been collated with one in Burns' manuscript.

THE DEAN OF FACULTY.*

A NEW BALLAD.

TUNE- THE DRAGON OF WANTLEY.'

DIRE was the hate at old Harlaw
That Scot to Scot did carry;
And dire the discord Langside saw,
For beauteous, hapless Mary:
But Scot with Scot ne'er met so hot,
Or were more in fury seen, Sir,
Than 'twixt Hal and Bob for the famous job-
Who should be Faculty's Dean, Sir.

This Hal for genius, wit, and lore,
Among the first was number'd;
But pious Bob, 'mid learning's store,
Commandment the tenth remember'd.
Yet simple Bob the victory got,

And wan his heart's desire;

Which shews that heaven can boil the pot,
Though the devil piss in the fire.

Squire Hal besides had, in this case,
Pretensions rather brassy,

For talents to deserve a place

Are qualifications saucy;

This ballad was first printed in Cromek's Reliques. The last stanza is now supplied for the first time from a copy in the Poet's own hand.

So their worships of the Faculty,
Quite sick of merit's rudeness,

Chose one who should owe it all, d'ye see,
To their gratis grace and goodness.

As once on Pisgah purg'd was the sight
Of a son of Circumcision,

So may be, on this Pisgah height,
Bob's purblind, mental vision;
Nay, Bobby's mouth may be open'd yet,
Till for eloquence you hail him,

And swear he has the Angel met
That met the Ass of Balaam.

In

your heretic sins may ye live and die,
Ye heretic eight and thirty!

But accept, ye sublime Majority,
My congratulations hearty,

With

your Honors and a certain King
In your servants this is striking-
The more incapacity they bring,
The more they're to your liking.

I'LL AYE CA' IN BY YON TOWN.*

I'LL ay ca' in by yon town,

And by yon garden green again;

I'll ay ca' in by yon town,

And see my bonnie Jean again.

*This song is printed in Cromek's Reliques. Jean Armour is said to be its heroine.

There's nane sall ken, there's nane sall guess,
What brings me back the gate again,
But she, my fairest faithfu' lass,

And stownlins we sall meet again.

She'll wander by the aiken tree,
When trystin-time draws near again;
And when her lovely form I see,
O haith, she's doubly dear again!

A BOTTLE AND FRIEND.‡

There's nane that's blest of human kind,
But the cheerful and the gay, man.
Fal lal, &c.

HERE'S a bottle and an honest friend!
What wad ye wish for mair, man?
Wha kens, before his life may end,
What his share may be o' care, man?
Then catch the moments as they fly,
And use them as ye ought, man :—
Believe me, happiness is shy,

And comes not ay when sought, man.

These verses, which occur in Cromek's Reliques, are printed as they stand in a copy in the Poet's own autograph. Gilbert Burns, however, in a letter to Mr. Cromek, in February, 1809, expressed a doubt as to their having been written by his brother.