III.

We'll big a house-a wee, wee house,
And we will live like king and queen,
Sae blythe and merry we will be

When ye set by the wheel at e'en.
A man may drink and no be drunk;
A man may fight and no be slain ;
A man may kiss a bonnie lass,

And ay be welcome back again.

The old song of this name, sung to the tune of “You'll ay be welcome back again," is much inferior to the Duncan Davison of Burns in wit and delicacy. The Poet took pity on the lively old air, and, brooding over the old words, conceived the present strain, which is full of the graphic spirit of other days. The song has sundry variations, some of which are better where they are-in oblivion.

THENIEL MENZIE'S BONNIE

MARY.

Tune—“ The Ruffian's Rant.”

I.

IN coming by the brig o' Dye,
At Darlet we a blink did tarry;
As day was dawin in the sky,
We drank a health to bonnie Mary.
Theniel Menzie's bonnie Mary,
Theniel Menzie's bonnie Mary;
Charlie Gregor tint his plaidie,
Kissin' Theniel's bonnie Mary.

II.

Her een sae bright, her brow sae white,
Her haffet locks as brown's a berry;

And ay, they dimpl't wi' a smile,
The rosy cheeks o' bonnie Mary.

III.

We lap and danced the lee lang day,
Till piper lads were wae and weary;
But Charlie gat the spring to pay,
For kissin' Theniel's bonnie Mary.
Theniel Menzie's bonnie Mary,
Theniel Menzie's bonnie Mary;

Charlie Gregor tint his plaidie,
Kissin' Theniel's bonnie Mary.

Who "Theniel Menzie's bonnie Mary" was, it is now, perhaps, vain to inquire; that she was a lass of spirit, the disaster that befel the plaid of Charlie Gregor sufficiently intimates. The song seems to have been written by Burns, during his first Highland tour, when he danced among the merry ladies of the north all night to the air of "Bab at the Bowster," and went out with a bowl of punch between his hands in the morning to drink a welcome to the god of day rising over the peak of BenLomond. The Poet composed other verses to the same air it is the well-known melody of that exquisite song, "Roy's Wife of Aldivalloch."

THE BANKS OF THE DEVON.

Tune-" Bhannerach dhon na chri.”

I.

How pleasant the banks of the clear winding Devon, With green spreading bushes, and flowers bloom

ing fair!

But the bonniest flower on the banks of the Devon
Was once a sweet bud on the braes of the Ayr.
Mild be the sun on this sweet blushing flower,
In the gay rosy morn, as it bathes in the dew;
And gentle the fall of the soft vernal shower,
That steals on the evening each leaf to renew.

II.

spare the dear blossom, ye orient breezes, With chill hoary wing, as ye usher the dawn; And far be thou distant thou reptile that seizes The verdure and pride of the garden and lawn! Let Bourbon exult in his gay gilded Lilies,

And England, triumphant, display her proud Rose: A fairer than either adorns the green vallies, Where Devon, sweet Devon, meandering flows.

Burns is a good commentator on his own productions." These verses," he says, in his notes on the Museum, were composed on a charming girlMiss Charlotte Hamilton, who is now married to James Mackittrick Adair, physician. She is sister to my worthy friend, Gavin Hamilton, of Mauchline, and was born on the banks of the Ayr; but was, at the time I wrote these lines, residing at Harvieston, in Clackmannanshire, on the romantic banks of the little river Devon. I first heard the air from a lady in Inverness, and got the notes taken down for this work (the Musical Museum)."Though this song has not the off-hand sort of happiness which characterizes many of the lyrics of Burns, it is truly elegant in compliment as well as harmonious in language. The Poet, as has been intimated in his life, was more than an admirer of this young lady; but she refused to be won by the charms of verse, and perhaps suspected the Poet's sincerity

"Ye gods! would one swear to the truth of a song?"