When ranting round in Pleasure's ring, Or if she gie a random sting, But when on life we're tempest-driven, Adieu, dear amiable youth! Your heart can ne'er be wanting! May prudence, fortitude, and truth, Erect your brow undaunting! In ploughman phrase, "God send you speed," Still daily to grow wiser; And may you better reck the rede mind the counsel Than ever did th' adviser! 1 1 In a copy of this poem in Burns's own hand, and bearing date "Mossgiel, May 15th, 1786," there occurs an additional stanza which the admirable taste of the poet had doubtless observed to be below the rest in terseness and point, and which he had therefore seen fit to omit. It throws so valuable a light on the state of his own mind at this crisis, that it cer tainly ought not to be suppressed, though we should not desire to see it replaced in the poem. It occurs immediately after the line, "And petrifies the feeling." If ye hae made a step aside, Some hap mistake o'erta'en you, And ne'er o'er far demean you. And if nae mair mistakes are made, FLOW GENTLY, SWEET AFTON. TUNE-The Yellow-haired Laddlie. Burns had been cast off by the Armours in what he felt as a most shameful way — divorced on account of poverty! In this moment of wounded pride he recalled the image of an amiable girl in the service of his friend Hamilton, a sweet, sprightly, blue-eyed creature, of a firmer modesty and self-respect than too many of the other maidens he had addressed. Mary Campbell was of Highland parentage, from the neighborhood of Dunoon, on the Firth of Clyde. There is some obscurity about the situations and movements of Mary it is quite certain that she was at one time dairy-maid at Coilsfield. A song of Burns, in persons, scenery, and circumstances most sweetly pastoral, and breathing of luxurious love unsmirched by disappointment actual or anticipated, must here be introduced, because it undoubtedly relates to his passion for Mary. It may be remarked, that the locality, Glen Afton, which is at a considerable distance, in the head of Nithsdale, has led to some misapprehensions regarding the history of the lyric; but all doubt is set at rest by a daughter of Mrs. Dunlop, who affirms that she remembers hearing Burns say it was written upon the Coilsfield dairy-maid. We must consequently infer, that the name Afton was adopted by our poet pro euphonic gratiâ — suggested to him, probably, by the name of Afton Lodge in the neighborhood of Coilsfield, the residence of his friend and patroness Mrs. Stewart of Stair. FLOW gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes, Flow gently, I'll sing thee a song in thy praise; My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream, Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream. Thou stock-dove whose echo resounds through the glen, Ye wild whistling blackbirds in yon thorny den, Thou green-crested lapwing thy screaming for bear, I charge you disturb not my slumbering fair. How lofty, sweet Afton, thy neighbouring hills, Far marked with the course of clear winding rills; There daily I wander as noon rises high, How pleasant thy banks and green valleys below, Where wild in the woodlands the primroses blow; There oft as mild evening weeps over the lea, The sweet-scented birk shades my Mary and me. Thy crystal stream, Afton, how lovely it glides, And winds by the cot where my Mary resides; How wanton thy waters her snowy feet lave, As gathering sweet flowerets she stems thy clear wave. Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes, Flow gently, sweet river, the theme of my lays; My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream, Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream. THE HIGHLAND LASSIE. The date of Burns's attachment to Highland Mary, and several of the circumstances connected with it, have been matter of doubt and obscurity till lately. In January 1850, Mr. William Douglas brought before the Society of Scottish Antiquaries an elaborate paper, making it all but perfectly certain that the affair was, what had never been hitherto suspected, an episode in the attachment to Jean Armour. He showed that it could not have been, as several biographers had surmised, a strictly early or juvenile attachment, and also traced the connection between this attachment and the design of going to the West Indies, a design of which we hear at no earlier period of his life than spring 1786. This connection appears strongly in the following song, which Burns afterwards published in Johnson's Scots Musical Museum. NAE gentle dames, though e'er sae fair, Their titles a' are empty show; Within the glen sae bushy, O, Oh were yon hills and valleys mine, But fickle Fortune frowns on me, Although through foreign climes I range, For her I'll dare the billows' roar, She has my heart, she has my hand, |