Gala Water.

But boundless oceans, roaring wide,
Between my love and me,
They never, never can divide
My heart and soul from thee

Farewell, farewell, Eliza dear,
The maid that I adore!
A boding voice is in mine ear,
We part to meet no more!
The latest throb that leaves my heart,
While death stands victor by,

That throb, Eliza, is thy part,

And thine that latest sigh!

83

GALA WATER.

TUNE-"Gala Water."

THERE's braw, braw lads on Yarrow braes,
That wander thro' the blooming heather;

But Yarrow braes nor Ettrick shaws
Can match the lads o' Gala Water.

But there is ane, a secret ane,

Aboon them a' I lo'e him better;

And I'll be his and he 'll be mine,
The bonnie lad o' Gala Water.
G

Altho' his daddie was nae laird,
And tho' I ha'e na meikle tocher;
Yet rich in kindest, truest love,

We'll tent our flocks by Gala Water.

It ne'er was wealth, it ne'er was wealth,
That coft contentment, peace, or pleasure :
The bands and bliss o' mutual love,
Oh, that's the chiefest warld's treasure!

MENIE.

TUNE-"Johnnie's gray breeks."

AGAIN rejoicing nature sees

Her robe assume its vernal hues,
Her leafy locks wave in the breeze,
All freshly steep'd in morning dews.

An' maun I still on Menie doat,*

An' bear the scorn that's in her e'e? For it's jet, jet black, an' like a hawk, An' winna let a body be.

"This chorus is part of a song composed by a gentleman in Edinburgh-a particular friend of the author's."-R. B. "Menie" is the common abbreviation for "Marion."

Menie.

In vain to me the cowslips blaw,
In vain to me the vi'lets spring;
In vain to me, in glen or shaw,

The mavis and the lintwhite sing.

The merry ploughboy cheers his team,
Wi' joy the tentie seedsman stalks;
But life to me's a weary dream,

A dream of ane that never wauks.

The wanton coot the water skims,
Amang the reeds the ducklings cry,
The stately swan majestic swims,
And everything is blest but I.

The shepherd steeks his faulding slap,
An' owre the moorland whistles shrill;
Wi' wild, unequal, wand'ring step,

I meet him on the dewy hill.

n' when the lark, 'tween light an' dark,
Blithe waukens by the daisy's side,
An' mounts an' sings on flittering wings,
A woe-worn ghaist I hameward glide.

Come, Winter, with thine angry howl,
An' raging bend the naked tree:
Thy gloom will soothe my cheerless soul,
When nature all is sad like me!

85

HOW LANG AN' DREARY IS THE NIGHT.

TUNE-" Cauld kail in Aberdeen."

How lang an' dreary is the night
When I am frae my dearie;

I restless lie frae e'en to morn,
Tho' I were ne'er sae weary.

For oh, her lanely nights are lang;
An' oh, her dreams are eerie;
An' oh, her widow'd heart is sair
That's absent frae her dearie.

When I think on the lightsome days
I spent wi' thee, my dearie,
An' now what seas between us roar-
How can I be but eerie ?

How slow ye move, ye heavy hours!
The joyless day how dreary!

It was na sae ye glinted by

When I was wi' my dearie.

For oh, her lanely nights are lang;
An' oh, her dreams are eerie;
An' oh, her widow'd heart is sair
That's absent frae her dearie.

Poortith cauld

87

POORTITH CAULD.

TUNE "I had a horse."

O POORTITH Cauld and restless love,
Ye wreck my peace between ye;
Yet poortith a' I could forgive,
An' 'twere na for my Jeanie.

Oh, why should fate sic pleasure have,
Life's dearest bands untwining?
Or why sae sweet a flower as love
Depend on Fortune's shining?

This warl's wealth when I think on,
Its pride and a' the lave o't;

Fie, fie on silly coward man,

That he should be the slave o't.
Oh, why, &c.

Her een sae bonnie blue betray
How she repays my passion;
But prudence is her o'erword aye,
She talks of rank and fashion.
Oh, why, &c.

Oh, wha can prudence think upon,
And sic a lassie by him?