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.

III.

And maun I still, &e.

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 ev'ry thing is blest but I.

The sheep-herd steeks his faulding slap,.

And owre the moorlands whistles shill, Wi' wild, unequal, wand'ring step

I meet him on the dewy hill.

VI.

And maun I still, &c.

And when the lark, 'tween light and dark,.

Blithe waukens by the daisy's side,

And mounts and sings on fluttering wings,
A woe-worn ghaist I hameward glide.

VII.

And maun I still, &c.

Come, Winter, with thine angry howl,
And raging bend the naked tree;
Thy gloom will sooth my cheerless soul,
When nature all is sad like me!

CHORUS.

And maun I still on Menie doat,

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

SONG.

Tune ROSLIN CASTLE."

I.

THE gloomy night is gath'ring fast,
Loud roars the wild inconstant blast;
Yon murky cloud is foul with rain,
I see it driving o'er the plain.

* We cannot presume to alter any of the poems of our bard, and more especially those printed un ler his own direction; yet it is to be regretted that this chorus, which is not of his own composition, should be attached to these fine stanzas, as it perpetually interrupts the train of sentiment which they excite.

E.

The hunter now has left the moor,
The scatter'd coveys meet secure,
While here I wander prest with care,
Along the lonely banks of Ayr.

The Autumn mourns her rip'ning corn
By early Winter's ravage torn;
Across her placid, azure sky,

She sees the scowling tempest fly:
Chill runs my blood to hear it rave,
I think
upon the stormy wave,

Where many a danger I must dare,
Far from the bonnie banks of Ayr.

III.

'Tis not the surging billow's roar ; "Tis not that fatal deadly shore; Tho' death in ev'ry shape appear, The wretched have no more to fear: But round my heart the ties are bound, That heart transpierc'd with many a wound; These bleed afresh, those ties I tear, To leave the bonnie banks of Ayr•

IV.

Farewell, old Coila's hills and dales, Her heathy moors and winding vales; The scenes where wretched fancy roves, Pursuing past, unhappy loves!

Farewell, my friends! Farewell, my foes! My peace with these, my love with those

The bursting tears my heart declare
Farewell the bonnie banks of Ayr!

SONG.

Tune- GILDEROY.'

I.

FROM thee, Eliza, I must go,

And from my native shore;
The cruel fates between us throw,
A boundless ocean's roar :
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!
But the last throb that leaves my heart,

While death stands victor by,

That throb, Eliza, is thy part,

And thine that latest sigh!

THE FAREWELL

TO THE BRETHREN OF ST JAMES'S LODGE,

TARBOLTON.

Tune.-' GOOD NIGHT AND JOY BE WI' YOU A’!'

I.

ADIEU!-a-heart-warm, fond adieu!
Dear brothers of the mystic tie!
Ye favour'd, ye enlighten'd few,
Companions of my social joy!
Tho' I to foreign lands must hie,
Pursuing Fortune's slidd'ry ba',
With melting heart, and brimful eye,
I'll mind you still, tho' far awa'.

II.

Oft have I met your social band,

And spent the cheerful, festive night; Oft, honour'd with supreme command, Presided o'er the sons of light:

And by that hieroglyphic bright,

Which none but craftsmen ever saw ! Strong mem'ry on my heart shall write Those happy scenes when far awa'.

III.

May freedom, harmony, and love,
Unite you in the grand design,
Beneath th' omniscient eye above,
The glorious architect divine!