When Boreas wi' a thousand storms
The face o' nature quick deforms,
I tune my pipe to love and thee,
Till aft a tear-drap swells my ee.

If musin' thro' the fields I stray,
Thou'rt ay my theme the lee-lang day;
And when the stars o' night appear,
The thoughts o' thee my bosom cheer:
In dreams I see thy matchless face,
Enraptur'd wi' ilk magie grace;
Thus day or night, thy charms impart
The dearest bliss that warms my heart.

Thy love is a' I ask on earth;
It gies to ilka pleasure birth;
Life's ills it maks me patient bear,
Quite reckless o' the thorn o' care.
Hope, wha sae aft fond man beguiles,
Yet whispers wi' bewitchin' smiles,
Tho' friendships fade, in life's decline,
Long-wish'd-for joys may soon be mine!

EVENING.

How sweet 'tis to rove, at the close of the day,

O'er daisy-clad meads, by a soft murmʼring rill, When the thrush from the brake pours his evening love lay,

And Sol's parting beams tinge the furze-cover'd hill;

When the rustic's loud laugh tells a heart void of care, With the maid of his bosom delighted to roam; When eager the joys of his cottage to share,

The labourer wearied, thinks long for his home.

t

Now wrapt up in mist is the mountain's steep brow;
No longer the din of the village is heard;
Now lost is the landscape, late beauteous to view;
No sound strikes the ear, save one sorrowful bird:
'Tis the partridge's wail, for his far-distant mate-
Let man learn affection from each feather'd pair,
And reflect on the days he has spent, ere too late;
Still thankful, midst sorrows, for blessings that

were.

In life's rosy morn, full of frolic and joy,

Light-hearted, in quest of new pleasures we fly,

Till noon brings its cares, many a hope to destroy, And the thoughts of the past will oft force a deep sigh:

Eve steals on apace, and oft finds us in tears,

For in friendship, in love, constant changes we see ; Each wound of the heart deeper grows with our years, And the evening of life's seldom tranquil or free:

TO NANNY. (12)

TUNE," Crowdy."

Now, Nanny, in thy fifteenth year,
Tak tent, an listen my advice;
Tho' thou canst boast nae lands or gear,
Yet thou'lt hae wooers in a trice
But O, be wary! now's the time,
When luive lurks in thy glancin e'e;
Or thou❜lt sup sorrow, ere thy prime,
For man's a wretch, unknown to thee!

A bonnier lip ne'er wan a heart-
A brighter e'e ne'er shot one thro'

Thy cheek may match the fairest flow'r,
That ever drank the e'ening dew:
Yet, be thou wary! &c.

Let not puir Robin's humble praise
Lift thee o'er high; the truth he'll tell:
Sham fa' the loon, whase rhymin' phrase
Maks onie lass forget hersel!

Still be thou wary! &c.

Like bees aroun a hinny flow'r,

They'll buz about thee, grin, and sing;
But never let them steal thy sweets,
Lest aff they fly, an' leave a sting.
O lass, be wary! &c.

Sin' smoothest water's deepest found,
Ay shun the slee pretendin' chiel;
For he whase heart but harbours guile,
Deserves a match wou'd match the Deil!
Then, O be wary! &c.

Nor listen to the snivelin' fuil,

Wha raves 'bout lightning, flames, and darts;

Sic trash is learn'd in onie schuil,

An' aft has broke the best o' hearts!

Be wary, Nanny! &c.

Let simple nature be thy guide:
Ay seek an honest heart to win;
An' be the lad no' worth a groat,

Tak courage, lass! the warl begin!
But, O be wary! now's the time,

When luive lurks in thy coal-black e'e;
Or thou'lt sup sorrow, ere thy prime,
For man's a wretch, unknown to thee!

THE SHIP-WRECKED SEA-BOY.

TUNE," The humours of Glen."

'Tis night-all around me the chill blast is howling; The harsh-screaming sea-bird now scar'd hovers

nigh;

The voice of great HEAV'N in loud thunder is rolling: Alas! nor for shelter, nor rest can I fly!

I mark by the lightning's blue gleam the wreck floating,

Of her that long triumph'd o'er each threat'ning

wave;