But what puts parting in my head,
It may be far awa';

The present moment is our ain,
The neist we never saw!

Since Colin's well, I'm well content,

I hae nae mair to crave;

Could I but live to mak him blest,

I'm blest aboon the lave.

And will I see his face again?

And will I hear him speak?

I'm downright dizzy with the thought,

In troth I'm like to greet.

["This is one of the most beautiful songs in the Scots, or any other language. The two lines,

And will I see his face again ?

And will I hear him speak!

as well as the two preceding ones, are unequalled almost by any thing I ever heard or read: and the lines,

The present moment is our ain
The neist we never saw-

are worthy of the first poet."-BURNS.

"For a while this song," says Mr. Cunningham, "had no author's name; at last, it passed for the production of an enthusiastic old woman of the west of Scotland, called Jean Adam, who kept a school and wrote verses, and claimed this song as her own composition. It happened, however, during the period that Mr. Cromek was editing his collection of Scottish Songs, (with notes by Burns) that Dr. Sim discovered among the manuscripts of Mickle, the translator of the Lusiad, an imperfect, altered, and corrected copy of the song, with all the marks of authorship about it. The changes which the poet had made were many and curious, and were conclusive of his claim to the honour of the song: his widow added decisive testimony to this, and said that her husband wrote a copy-said it was his own, and explained the Scottish words."

The last verse but one of this song is ascribed to Dr. Beattie.]

I LO'E NAE A LADDIE BUT ANE.

I lo'e nae a laddie but ane,

He lo'es nae a lassie but me;
He's willing to make me his ain,
And his ain I am willing to be.
He coft me a rokelay of blue,
A pair of mittens of green-
The price was a kiss of my mou,
And I paid him the debt yestreen.

My mither's ay making a phrase,
That I'm rather young to be wed;
But lang ere she counted my days,
O' me she was brought to bed.
Sae mother just settle yere tongue,
And dinna be flyting sae bauld,

We can weel do the thing when we're young,
That we canna do weel when we're auld.

["Some person informed Burns," says Mr. Cunningham, "that 'I lo'e nae laddie but ane,' was written by "Mr. Clunie," minister of Borthwick-whoever wrote it, wrote a capital song. I have seen it printed with the addition of four new verses, the work seemingly of a very inferior pen, and to which the name of Macneill was added.” This song is printed by Ritson with the initials "I. D." attached to it.]

1

AND YE SHALL WALK IN SILK ATTIRE.

And ye shall walk in silk attire,
And siller hae to spare,

Gin ye'll consent to be his bride,
Nor think o' Donald mair.
O wha wad buy a silken gown,
Wi' a poor broken heart?
Or what's to me a siller crown
Gin frae my love I part ?

The mind whose meanest wish is pure
Far dearest is to me,

And ere I'm forced to break my faith,
I'll lay me down and die :

For I have vowed a virgin's vow,
My lover's fate to share,
And he has gi'en to me his heart,
And what can man do mair?

His mind and manners wan my heart,
He gratefu' took the gift,
And did I wish to seek it back,

It wad be waur than theft.

For langest life can ne'er repay

The love he bears to me

And ere I'm forced to break my faith,

I'll lay me down and die.

[From Johnson's Musical Museum, vol. iii. 1790-the author is unknown.]

LOGIE OF BUCHAN.

O Logie of Buchan, its Logie the laird,
He's ta'en awa' Jamie wha delved in the yard,
Wha played on the pipe and the viol sae sma'-
He has ta'en awa' Jamie, the flower o' them a'!

Keep up yere heart, lassie, though I'm gaun awa'-
Keep up yere heart, lassie, when I'm far awa';
For summer will come when cauld winter's awa',
And I'll come and see you in spite o' them a'?

O Sandie has owsen and siller and kye,
A house and a haddin and a' things forbye,
Yet his look is my life, and his wish is my law ;-
They have ta'en awa' Jamie, the flower o' them a'!

My daddie looks sulky, my mother looks sour;-
They mock me wi' Jamie, because he is poor:
But daddie and minnie altho' that they be,
There's nane o' them a' like my Jamie to me.

I sit in the sunshine and spin on my wheel,
And think on the laddie who loves me sae weel;
And I think till my hearts fit to start into twa-
They hae ta'en awa Jamie, the flower o' them a'!

[This song is printed with numerous variations; Burns touched up a copy for the fourth volume of the Museum, and Allan Cunningham made improvements for his collection of Scottish songs. Mr. Peter Buchan has given the song to a Mr. George Halket of Aberdeen, while popular belief ascribes it to Lady Anne Lindsay.]

GIN LIVING WORTH COULD WIN MY HEART.

Gin living worth could win my heart,
Ye shou❜dna sigh in vain;

But in the darksome grave it's laid,
Never to rise again.

My waefu' heart lies low wi' his

Whose heart was only mine;
And what a heart was that to lose!
But I maun no repine.

Yet oh! gin heaven in mercy soon
Would grant the boon I crave,
And tak this life, now naething worth,
Sin' Jamie's in his grave!
And see his gentle spirit comes

To shew me on my way;
Surpriz'd nae doubt, I still am here,
Sair wond'ring at my stay.

I come, I come, my Jamie dear ;
And oh! wi' what good will,

I follow wheresoe'er ye lead,
Ye canna lead to ill.

She said; and soon a deadly pale

Her faded cheek possest,
Her waefu' heart forgat to beat,

Her sorrows sunk to rest.

[Fom Johnson's Musical Museum, vol. iii. 1790-and inserted there from a single sheet, printed at London about the year 1788, and sold by Joseph Dale, No. 19, Cornhill," sung by Master Knyvett." The author's name I am sorry to say is unknown.]