ROGER.

Is not our master and yoursell to stay Amang us here? Or are ye gawn away To London court, or ither far-aff parts,

To leave your ain poor us with broken hearts?

PATIE.

To Edinburgh straight to-morrow we advance, To London neist, and afterwards to France, Where I must stay some years, and learn to dance, And twa three other monkey-tricks; that done, I come hame strutting in my red-heeled shoon. Then 't is designed, when I can well behave, That I maun be some petted thing's dull slave, For some few bags of cash, that I wat weel, I nae mair need nor carts do a third wheel. But Peggy, dearer to me than my breath, Sooner than hear sic news shall hear my death.

ROGER.

'They wha have just enough can soundly sleep, The owrecome only fashes fowk to keep :'Good master Patrick, take your ain tale hame.

PATIE.

What was my morning thought, at night's the The poor and rich but differ in the name. [same; Content's the greatest bliss we can procure Frae 'boon the lift; without it kings are poor.

ROGER.

But an estate like yours yields braw content, When we but pick it scantly on the bent: Fine claiths, saft beds, sweet houses, sparkling wine, Good cheer, and witty friends, whene'er ye dine, Obeisant servants, honor, wealth, and ease; Wha's no content with these are ill to please!

PATIE.

Sae Roger thinks, and thinks not far amiss. But mony a cloud hings hovering o'er their bliss: The passions rule the roast; and if they're sour, Like the lean kye, they'll soon the fat devour. The spleen, tint honor, and affronted pride, Sting like the sharpest goads in gentry's side; The gouts, and gravels, and the ill disease, Are frequentest with fowk owrelaid with ease; While o'er the moor the shepherd, with less care, Enjoys his sober wish, and halesome air.

ROGER.

Lord, man, I wonder, ay, and it delights My heart whene'er I hearken to your flights! How gat ye a' that sense I fain wad lear, That I may easier disappointments bear?

PATIE.

Frae books, the wale of books, I gat some skill; These best can teach what's real good and ill. Ne'er grudge ilk year to wear some stanes of cheese, To gain these silent friends that ever please.

ROGER.

I'll do 't, and ye shall tell me which to buy ; Faith I'se hae books, tho' I shou'd sell my kye!

Speak on, speak ever thus, and still my grief; But short I dare to hope the fond relief! New thoughts a gentler face will soon inspire, That with nice airs swims round in silk attire: Then I, poor me! with sighs may ban my fate, When the young laird's nae mair my heartsome Pate. Nae mair again to hear sweet tales expressed By the blyth shepherd that excelled the rest; Nae mair be envied by the tattling gang, When Patie kissed me, when I danced or sang; Nae mair, alake! we'll on the meadow play, And rin half breathless round the rucks of hay, As aft-times I have fled from thee right fain, And fawn on purpose that I might be tane; Nae mair around the foggy knowe I'll creep, To watch and stare upon thee while asleep.

No more the shepherd who excelled

The rest, whose wit made them to wonder, Shall now his Peggy's praises tell :

Ah! I can die, but never sunder! Ye meadows where we often strayed,

Ye banks where we were wont to wander, Sweet-scented rucks round which we played, You'll lose your sweets when we 're asunder.

Again, ah! shall I never creep

Around the knowe with silent duty, Kindly to watch thee while asleep,

And wonder at thy manly beauty?

Hear, heav'n, while solemnly I vow,

Tho' thou shouldst prove a wand'ring lover, Thro' life to thee I shall prove true,

Nor be a wife to any other.

PATIE.

--

Sure heaven approves; and be assured of me, I'll ne'er gang back of what I've sworn to thee; And time, tho' time maun interpose a while, And I maun leave my Peggy and this isle, Yet time, nor distance, nor the fairest face, If there's a fairer, e'er shall fill thy place. I'd hate my rising fortune, should it move The fair foundation of our faithfu' love. If at my feet were crowns and sceptres laid, To bribe my soul frae thee, delightful maid, For thee I'd soon leave these inferior things To sic as have the patience to be kings. Wherefore that tear? - Believe, and calm thy mind.

PEGGY.

I greet for joy to hear thy words sae kind. When hopes were sunk, and naught but mirk despair, Made me think life was little worth my care, My heart was like to burst; but now I see Thy gen'rous thoughts will save thy love for me. With patience then I'll wait each wheeling year, Dream thro' that night, till my day-star appear ;1

1Hope time away, till thou with joy appear." Edition of 1808.

And all the while I'll study gentler charms,

To make me fitter for my trav❜ler's arms;
I'll gain on uncle Glaud; he's far frae fool,
And will not grudge to put me through ilk school,
Where I may manners learn.

SANG XVIII.

TUNE.Tweedside."

When hope was quite sunk in despair,
My heart it was going to break ;
My life appeared worthless my care,

But now I will save 't for thy sake.
Where'er my love travels by day,
Wherever he lodges by night,
With me his dear image shall stay,

And my soul keep him ever in sight.
With patience I'll wait the long year,

And study the gentlest charms;
Hope time away till thou appear,

To lock thee for ay in those arms.
Whilst thou wast a shepherd, I prized
No higher degree in this life;
But now I'll endeavor to rise

To a height is becoming thy wife.

For beauty, that's only skin deep,

Must fade like the gowans of May; But inwardly rooted, will keep

Forever, without a decay.

Nor age, nor the changes of life,
Can quench the fair fire of love,

If virtue's ingrained in the wife,
And the husband have sense to approve.

PATIE.

That's wisely said; And what he wares that way shall be well paid. Tho' without a' the little helps of art, Thy native sweets might gain a prince's heart; Yet now, lest in our station we offend, We must learn modes to innocence unken'd; Affect aft-times to like the thing we hate, And drap serenity, to keep up state; Laugh when we 're sad, speak when we 've naught to And for the fashion, when we 're blyth, seem wae ; Pay compliments to them we aft have scorned, Then scandalize them when their backs are turned.

PEGGY.

[say,

Ah! sir, the witch ca'd Mause, That wins aboon the mill amang the haws, First promised that she'd help me with her art, To gain a bonny, thrawart lassie's heart. As she had trysted, I met wi'er this night; But may nae friend of mine get sic a fright! For the curst hag, instead of doing me good, The very thought o't's like to freeze my blood! — Raised up a ghaist, or deil, I kenna whilk, Like a dead corse in sheet as white as milk; Black hands it had, and face as wan as death. Upon me fast the witch and it fell baith, And gat me down, while I, like a great fool, Was labored as I wont to be at school.

1' While drowsy sleep keeps a' beneath its power.' Edition of 1808.

Such as the devil's dancing in a moor, Amongst a few old women craz'd and poor, Who were rejoiced to see him frisk and lowp O'er braes and bogs with candles in his dowp; Appearing sometimes like a black-horned cow, Aft-times like Bawty, Badrans, or a sow; Then with his train through airy paths to glide, While they on cats, or clowns, or broomstaffs, ride; Or in an egg-shell skim out o'er the main, To drink their leader's health in France or Spain : Then aft by night bumbaze hare-hearted fools, By tumbling down their cupboards, chairs, and

stools.

Whate'er's in spells, or if there witches be, Such whimsies seem the most absurd to me.

SYMON.

'Tis true enough, we ne'er heard that a witch Had either meikle sense or yet was rich. But Mause, tho' poor, is a sagacious wife, And lives a quiet and very honest life; That gars me think this hobleshew that's past Will end in naething but a joke at last.

SIR WILLIAM.

I'm sure it will!- But see, increasing light Commands the imps of darkness down to night. Bid raise my servants, and my horse prepare, Whilst I walk out to take the morning air.

SANG XX.

TUNE.Bonny gray-eyed morn.'
The bonny gray-eyed morn begins to peep,
And darkness flies before the rising ray;
The hearty hynd starts from his lazy sleep,
To follow healthfu' labors of the day;
Without a guilty sting to wrinkle his brow,
The lark and the linnet 'tend his levee ;
And he joins the concert, driving his plough,
From toil of grimace and pageantry free.

While flustered with wine, or maddened with loss
Of half an estate, the prey of a main,
The drunkard and gamester tumble and toss,

Wishing for calmness and slumber in vain.
Be my portion health and quietness of mind,
Placed at due distance from parties and state;
Where neither ambition, nor avarice blind,
Reach him who has happiness linked to his fate.
[Exeunt.]

Daft lassie, you ken naught of the affair; Ane young, and good, and gentle's unco rare. A rake's a graceless spark, that thinks nae shame To do what like of us thinks sin to name. Sic are sae void of shame, they'll never stap To brag how aften they have had the [-];

Poor Meg!-Look, Jenny, was the like e'er seen? How bleered and red with greeting look her een! This day her brankan wooer taks his horse, To strut a gentle spark at Edinburgh cross : To change his kent cut frae the branchy plane, For a nice sword, and glancing headed cane; To leave his ram-horn spoons, and kitted whey, For gentler tea that smells like new-won hay; To leave the green-sward dance, when we gae milk, To rustle amang the beauties clad in silk. But Meg, poor Meg! maun with the shepherds stay, And tak what God will send, in hodden gray.

PEGGY.

Dear aunt, what needs ye fash us wi' your scorn? That's no my faut that I'm nae gentler born. Gif I the daughter of some laird had been, I ne'er had noticed Patie on the green;