Forlorn, my Love, no Comfort near.

But chiefly the siller, that gars him gang till her,

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The penny's the jewel that beautifies a'. There's Meg wi' the mailen, that fain wad a-haen him;

And Susie, whose daddie was laird o' the ha'; There's lang-tocher'd Nancy maist fetters his

fancy,

But the laddie's dear sel' he lo'es dearest of a'.

FORLORN, MY LOVE, NO COMFORT NEAR.

TUNE-"Oh, let me in this ae night."

FORLORN, my love, no comfort near,
Far, far from thee, I wander here:
Far, far from thee, the fate severe
At which I must repine, love.

CHORUS.

Oh, wert thou, love, but near me;
But near, near, near me :

How kindly thou wouldst cheer me,
And mingle sighs with mine, love.

Around me scowls a wintry sky,
That blasts each bud of hope and joy;
And shelter, shade, nor home have I,

Save in those arms of thine, love.

Cold, alter'd friendship's cruel part,
To poison fortune's ruthless dart--
Let me not break thy faithful heart,
And say that fate is mine, love.

But dreary tho' the moments fleet,
Oh, let me think we yet shall meet!
That only ray of solace sweet

Can on thy Chloris shine, love.

OH, BONNIE WAS YON ROSY BRIER.

TUNE-"The wee, wee man."

Он, bonnie was yon rosy brier,

That blooms sae far frae haunt o' man; An' bonnie she, an', ah, how dear! It shaded frae the e'enin' sun.

Yon rose-buds in the morning dew,
How pure amang the leaves sae green;
But purer was the lover's vow

They witness'd in their shade yestreen.

All in its rude an' prickly bower,

That crimson rose, how sweet an' fair; But love is far a sweeter flower

Amid life's thorny path o' care.

Jessy.

The pathless wild an' wimpling burn,
Wi' Chloris in my arms, be mine;
An' I the world nor wish nor scorn,
Its joys an' griefs alike resign.

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JESSY.

TUNE-"Here's a health to ane I lo'e dear."

CHORUS.

HERE'S a health to ane I lo'e dear!

Here's a health to ane I lo'e dear!

Thou art sweet as the smile when fond lovers meet, An' soft as their parting tear-Jessy!

Altho' thou maun never be mine,

Altho' even hope is denied: 'Tis sweeter for thee despairing,

Than aught in the world beside-Jessy!

I mourn thro' the gay, gaudy day,

As, hopeless, I muse on thy charms;
But welcome the dream o' sweet slumber,
For then I am lock'd in thy arms-Jessy!

I guess by the dear angel smile,

I guess by the love rolling e'e;

But why urge the tender confession,

'Gainst fortune's fell cruel decree-Jessy!

THE TITHER MORN.

To a Highland air.

THE tither morn, when I forlorn
Aneath an aik sat moaning,
I did na trow I'd see my jo
Beside me gin the gloaming.
But he, sae trig, lap o'er the rig,
An' dawtingly did cheer me,
When I, what reck, did least expec'
To see my lad so near me.

His bonnet he, a thought ajee,

Cock'd sprush when first he clasp'd me;

An' I, I wat, wi' fainness grat,

While in his grips he press'd me.

De'il tak' the war! I late an' air
Ha'e wish'd since Jock departed;

But now as glad I'm wi' my lad
As short syne broken hearted.

Fu' aft at e'en, wi' dancing keen,
When a' were blithe an' merry,
I car'd na by, sae sad was I,

In absence o' my dearie.

But, praise be blest, my mind's at rest,
I'm happy wi' my Johnny:

At kirk an' fair, I'se aye be there,

An' be as canty's ony.

Fairest Maid on Devon Banks.

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OUT OVER THE FORTH.

TUNE-" Charlie Gordon's welcome hame."

OUT over the Forth I look to the north,

But what is the north and its Highlands to me? The south nor the east gi'e ease to my breast, The far-foreign land or the wild-rolling sea.

But I look to the west when I gae to rest,
That happy my dreams and my slumbers may be;
For far in the west lives he I lo'e best-
The lad that is dear to my baby an' me.

FAIREST MAID ON DEVON BANKS.

TUNE-"Rothiemurche's rant."

[The Poet's last song.]

CHORUS.

FAIREST maid on Devon banks,

Crystal Devon, winding Devon,

Wilt thou lay that frown aside,

And smile as thou were wont to do?

Full well thou know'st I love thee dear,
Couldst thou to malice lend an ear?
Oh, did not love exclaim "Forbear,
Nor use a faithful lover so!"