I wist not what ail'd me

When my laddie cam' in;
The little wee sternies

Flew aye frae my een;
And the sweat it dropp'd down

From my very ee-bree;

For my heart aye play'd

Dunt, dunt, dunt, pittie, pattie.

I wist not what ail'd me
When I went to my bed;

I toss'd and I tumbled,
And sleep frae me fled.

Now it's sleeping and waking

He's aye in my ee;

And my heart aye plays

Dunt, dunt, dunt, pittie, pattie.

MARY SCOTT, THE FLOWER OF YARROW.

ALLAN RAMSAY. From the "Tea-Table Miscellany."

HAPPY's the love which meets return,
When in soft flames souls equal burn;
But words are wanting to discover
The torments of a hopeless lover.
Ye registers of heaven, relate,
If looking o'er the rolls of fate,

Did
you there see me mark'd to marrow
Mary Scott, the flower of Yarrow?

Ah, no! her form's too heavenly fair,
Her love the gods above must share;
While mortals with despair explore her,
And at a distance due adore her.
O lovely maid! my doubts beguile,
Revive and bless me with a smile;
Alas! if not you'll soon debar a
Sighing swain the banks of Yarrow.

с

Be hush'd, ye fears; I'll not despair;
My Mary's tender as she's fair;
Then I'll go tell her all my anguish ;
She is too good to let me languish :
With success crownèd, I'll not envy
The folks who dwell above the sky;
When Mary Scott's become my marrow,
We'll make a paradise on Yarrow.

The heroine of this song is supposed to have been Mary, daughter of Philip Scott of Dryhope, in Selkirkshire. She was married to Scott of Harden, the notorious border-reiver, or freebooter. A different and possibly an earlier version of

this song has been discovered by Mr. Peter Buchan. We copy it from a manuscript volume of the Songs of the North of Scotland collected by that gentleman.

Oh, Mary's red, and Mary's white,

And Mary she's the king's delight;

The king's delight and the prince's marrow,

Mary Scott, the flower of Yarrow.

When I look east, my heart grows sair;

But when I look west, it's mair and mair;
And when I look to the banks of Yarrow,
There I mind my winsome marrow.

Now she's gone to Edinburgh town,

To buy braw ribbons to tie her gown;

She's bought them broad, and laid them narrow,

Mary Scott is the flower of Yarrow.

BONNIE CHIRSTY.

ALLAN RAMSAY. From the "Tea-Table Miscellany."

"How sweetly smells the simmer green,
Sweet taste the peach and cherry ;
Painting and order please our een,
And claret makes us merry!
But finest colours, fruits and flowers,
And wine, though I be thirsty,
Lose a' their charms and weaker powers,
Compar'd wi' those of Chirsty.

When wand'ring o'er the flow'ry park,
No natural beauty wanting;
How lightsome is't to hear the lark,
And birds in concert chanting!

But if my Chirsty tunes her voice,
I'm rapt in admiration ;

My thoughts wi' ecstasies rejoice,
And drap the haill creation.

Whene'er she smiles a kindly glance,
I take the happy omen,
And aften mint to make advance,
Hoping she'll prove a woman.
But, dubious of my ain desert,
My sentiments I smother;
Wi' secret sighs I vex my heart,
For fear she love another."

Thus sang blate Edie by a burn,
His Chirsty did o'erhear him;
She doughtna let her lover mourn,
But, ere he wist, drew near him.
She spak' her favour wi' a look,
Which left nae room to doubt her:
He wisely this white minute took,
And flang his arms about her.

"My Chirsty! witness, bonny stream,
Sic joys frae tears arising;

I wish this may na be a dream,-
Oh, love the maist surprising !"
Time was too precious now for tauk,
This point of a' his wishes;
He wadna wi' set speeches bauk,
But wair'd it a' on kisses.

The heroine of this song was Miss Christina or Christian Dundas, daughter of Sir James Dundas of Arnisten, and wife of Sir Charles Erskine, or Areskine, of Alva, Lord Justice Clerk of Scotland in 1763. The song is the first in the "Tea-Table Miscellany," from which it has been conjectured that it was an especial favourite of

its author.

I'd promise and fulfil

That nane but bonnie she,

The lass o' Patie's Mill,

Should share the same wi' me.

3

Patie's or Patrick's Mill is supposed to have been on the south bank of the Irwine, near Newmills, in Ayrshire.

"The Lass o' Patie's Mill,'" says Burns, "is one of Ramsay's best songs. In Sir J. Sinclair's statistical volumes are two claims, one, I think, from Aberdeenshire, and the other from Ayrshire, for the honour of this song. The following anecdote, which I had from the present Sir William Cunningham of Robertland, who had it of the late John Earl of Loudon, I can, on such authorities, believe: Allan Ramsay was residing at Loudon Castle with the then earl, father to Earl John; and one afternoon, riding or walking out together, his lordship and Allan passed a sweet romantic spot on Irwine water, still called 'Patie's Mill,' where a bonnie lassie was' tedding hay bare-headed on the green.' My lord observed to Allan that it would be a fine theme for a song. Ramsay took the hint, and lingering behind he composed the first sketch of it, which he produced at dinner."

THE WAUKIN' O' THE FAULD.

ALLAN RAMSAY.

My Peggy is a young thing

Just enter'd in her teens,

Fair as the day, and sweet as May,
Fair as the day, and always gay:
My Peggy is a young thing,
And I'm nae very auld,

And weel I like to meet her at
The waukin' o' the fauld.

My Peggy speaks sae sweetly
Whene'er we meet alane;

I wish nae mair to lay my care,
I wish nae mair o' a' that's rare :
My Peggy speaks sae sweetly—
To a' the lave I'm cauld;
But she gars a' my spirits glow
At waukin' o' the fauld.

My Peggy smiles sae kindly
Whene'er I whisper love,

That I look doun on a' the toun,
That I look doun upon a croun: