Till Charlie Stewart cam' at last,
Sae far to set us free;

My Donald's arm was wanted then,
For Scotland and for me.

Their waefu' fate what need I tell,
Right to the wrang did yield:
My Donald and his country fell
Upon Culloden's field.

Oh! I am come to the low countrie,
Och-on, och-on, och-rie!

Nae woman in the world wide
Sae wretched now as me.

PEG-A-RAMSEY.

The old song of this name was a very famous amatory song.

Tune-Cauld is the e'ening blast.

CAULD is the e'enin' blast
O' Boreas o'er the pool,
And dawin' it is dreary

When birks are bare at Yule.

O bitter blaws the e'enin' blast
When bitter bites the frost,
And in the mirk and dreary drift
The hills and glens are lost.

Ne'er sae murky blew the night
That drifted o'er the hill,
But a bonnie Peg-a-Ramsey
Gat grist to her mill.

THERE WAS A BONNIE LASS.
An unfinished sketch.

THERE was a bonnie lass,

And a bonnie, bonnie lass,

And she lo'ed her bonnie laddie dear;

Till war's loud alarms,

Tore her laddie frae her arms,

Wi' mony a sigh and tear.

Over sea, over shore,

Where the cannons loudly roar,

He still was a stranger to fear:
And nocht could him quell,

Or his bosom assail,

But the bonnie lass he lo'ed sae dear.

O MALLY'S MEEK, MALLY'S SWEET, This stands the last of the communications to the Museum. It is said to have been produced on seeing a young countrywoman with her shoes and stockings packed carefully up, and her petticoats kilted, which shewed

'Her straight bare legs, that whiter were than snaw.'

O MALLY'S meek, Mally's sweet,
Mally's modest and discreet,
Mally's rare, Mally's fair,

Mally's every way complete.
As I was walking up the street,

A barefit maid I chanced to meet;
But O the road was very hard

For that fair maiden's tender feet.
It were mair meet that those fine feet
Were weel laced up in silken shoon,
And 'twere more fit that she should sit
Within yon chariot gilt aboon.

Her yellow hair, beyond compare,

Comes trinkling down her swan-white neck, And her two eyes, like stars in skies,

Would keep a sinking ship frae wreck.

O Mally's meek, Mally's sweet,

Mally's modest and discreet,

Mally's rare, Mally's fair,

Mally's every way complete.

ADDITIONAL

MISCELLANEOUS PIECES.

THE FAREWELL.

These beautiful and affecting stanzas were composed under great distress of mind, when his prospects in life were so gloomy, that his only hope for success seemed to be directed to obtaining a situation in the West Indies.

FAREWELL, Old Scotia's bleak domains,
Far dearer than the torrid plains
Where rich ananas blow!
Farewell, a mother's blessing dear!
A brother's sigh! a sister's tear!
My Jean's heart-rending throe!
Farewell, my Bess! tho' thou'rt bereft
Of my parental care;
A faithful brother I have left,
My part in him thou'lt share!
Adieu too, to you too,

My Smith, my bosom frien';
When kindly you mind me,

O then befriend my Jean!

What bursting anguish tears my heart!
From thee, my Jeany, must I part!

Thou weeping answ'rest no!
Alas! misfortune stares my face,
And points to ruin and disgrace,
I for thy sake must go!
Thee Hamilton, and Aiken dear,
A grateful, warm adieu!
I, with a much-indebted tear,
Shall still remember you !
All-hail then, the gale then,

Wafts me from thee, dear shore !

It rustles, and whistles

I'll never see thee more!

WILLIE CHALMERS.*

Wr' braw new branks in mickle pride,
And eke a braw new brechan,

My Pegasus I'm got astride,

And up Parnassus pechin;

Whiles owre a bush wi' downward crush,

The doited beastie stammers;
Then up he gets, and off he sets
For sake o' Willie Chalmers.

I doubt na, lass, that weel-kenn'd name
May cost a pair o' blushes;

I am nae stranger to your fame

Nor his warm urged wishes.

Your bonnie face sae mild and sweet,
His honest heart enamours,

And faith ye'll no be lost a whit,

Tho' waired on Willie Chalmers.

Mr. Lockhart has given the following account of this singular piece-he copied it from a small collection of MSS. sent by Burns to Lady Harriet Don, accompanied with the following explanation:- W. Chalmers, a gentleman in Ayrshire, a particular friend of mine, asked me to write a poetical epistle to a young lady, is Dulcinea. I had seen her, but was scarcely acquainted with her, and wrote es above.'

Auld Truth hersel' might swear ye're fair,
And Honour safely back her,
And Modesty assume your air,
And ne'er a ane mistak' her:
And sic twa love-inspiring e'en
Might fire even holy Palmers;
Nae wonder then they've fatal been
To honest Willie Chalmers.

I doubt na fortune may you shore
Some mim-mou'd pouthered priestie,
Fu' lifted up wi' Hebrew lore,
And band upon his breastie:
But Oh! what signifies to you,
His lexicons and grammars;
The feeling heart's the royal blue,
And that's wi' Willie Chalmers.

Some gapin' glowrin' countra laird,
May warsle for your favour;
May claw his lug, and straik his beard,
And host up some palaver.

My bonny maid, before ye wed

Sic clumsy-witted hammers,

Seek Heaven for help, and barefit skelp
Awa' wi' Willie Chalmers.

Forgive the Bard! my fond regard
For ane that shares my bosom,
Inspires my muse to gie 'm his dues,
For de'il a hair I roose him.
May powers aboon unite you soon,
And fructify your amours,—
And every year come in mair dear
To you and Willie Chalmers.