"Chorus.-Ca' the yowes to the knowes, Ca' them where the heather grows, Ca' them where the burnierowes, My boniedearie As I gaeddown the water-side, There I met my shepherd lad: He row'd me sweetly in his plaid, And he ca'd me his dearie. Ca' the yowes, &c. Will ye gang down the water-side, And see

Inhuman man! curse on thy barb'rous art, And blasted be thy murder-aiming eye; May never pity soothe thee with a sigh, Nor ever pleasure glad thy cruel heart! Go live, poor wand'rer of the wood and field! The bitter little that of life remains: No more the thickening brakes and verdant plains To thee a

Thou ling'ring star, with lessening ray, That lov'st to greetthe early morn, Again thou usher'st in the day My Mary from my soul was torn. O Mary! dear departed shade! Where is thy place of blissful rest? See'st thou thy lover lowly laid? Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast? That sacred hour can

Beauteous Rosebud, young and gay, Blooming in thy early May, Never may'st thou, lovely flower, Chilly shrink in sleety shower! Never Boreas' hoary path, Never Eurus' pois'nous breath, Never baleful stellar lights, Taint thee with untimely blights! Never, never reptile thief Riot on thy virgin leaf! Nor even Sol too fiercely view Thy bosom blushing

First when Maggie was my care, Heav'n, I thought, was in her air, Now we're married-speir naemair, Butwhistle o'er the lave o't! Meg was meek, and Meg was mild, Sweet and harmless as a child- Wiser men than me's beguil'd; Whistle o'er the lave o't! How we live, my Meg and me, How we love,

Young Jockie was the blythest lad, In a'our town or here awa; Fu' blythe he whistled at the gaud, Fu' lightlydanc'd he in the ha'. He roos'd my eensae bonieblue, He roos'd my waist saegentysma'; An' aye my heart camto my mou', When ne'er a bodyheard orsaw. My Jockie toils upon the plain, Thro' wind

By all I lov'd, neglected and forgot, Nofriendly face e'erlights my squalid cot; Shunn'd, hated, wrong'd, unpitied, unredrest, The mock'd quotation of the scorner's jest! Ev'n the poor support of my wretched life, Snatched by the violence of legal strife. Oft grateful for my very daily bread To those my family's once large bounty fed;