And yours was gude, and gude enough,
But nae sae gude as mine;

For yours was o' the cambrick clear,
But mine o' the silk sae fine.

"And dinna ye mind, love Gregor," she says, "As we twa sat at dine,

How we chang❜d the rings frae our fingers,
And I can shew thee thine:

"And yours was gude, and gude enough,
Yet nae sae gude as mine;

For yours was o' the gude red goud,
But mine o' the diamonds fine.

Sae open

the door, now, love Gregor,

And open it wi' speed;

Or your young son, that is in my arms,
For cauld will soon be dead."

"Awa, awa, ye ill woman;

Gae frae my door for shame, For I hae gotten anither fair love, Sae ye may hie you hame."

"O hae ye gotten anither fair love,
For a' the oaths you sware?

Then fare ye weel, now, fause Gregor,
For me ye's never see mair!"

O, hooly hooly gaed she back,
As the day began to peep;

She set her foot on good ship board,

And sair sair did she weep.

"Tak down, tak down the mast o' goud,

Set the mast o' tree;

up

Ill sets it a forsaken lady

To sail sae gallantlie.

Tak down, tak down the sails o' silk,
Set up the sails o' skin;

Ill sets the outside to be gay,

When there's sic grief within!"

Love Gregor started frae his sleep,
And to his mother did say,

"I dreamt a dream this night, mither,
That makes my heart richt wae;

"I dreamt that Annie of Lochroyan,
The flower o' a' her kin,
Was standin' mournin' at my door,
But nane wad let her in.

"O there was a woman stood at the doon,
Wi' a bairn intill her arms;

But I wadna let her within the bower,
For fear she had done you harm.”

O quickly, quickly raise he up,
And fast ran to the strand;
And there he saw her, fair Annie,
Was sailing frae the land.

And "heigh, Annie !" and "how, Annie!
O, Annie, winna ye bide ?"

But ay the louder that he cried“ Annic,”
The higher rair'd the tide.

And "heigh, Annie!" and "how, Annie!
O, Annie, speak to me!"

But ay the louder that he cried " Annie,”
The louder rair'd the sea.

The wind grew loud, and the sea grew rough,
And the ship was rent in twain;

And soon he saw her, fair Annie,

Come floating o'er the main.

He saw his young son in her arms,
Baith toss'd aboon the tide;

He wrang his hands, and fast he ran,
And plunged in the sea sae wide.

He catch'd her by the yellow hair,
And drew her to the strand;
But cauld and stiff was every limb,
Before he reach'd the land.

O first he kist her cherry cheek,
And syne he kist her chin,
And sair he kist her ruby lips;

But there was nae breath within.

O he has mourn'd o'er fair Annie,
Till the sun was ganging down;
Syne wi' a sich his heart it brast,

And his saul to heaven has flown.

Of this very pathetic Ballad there are a great variety of editions, differing considerably from each other, and, all that I have fallen in with, bearing evident marks of modern improvement. Even this, which is from Jamieson's popular Ballads, and copied from a MS. collection of professor Scott's of Aberdeen, though certainly among the most pleasing of these various editions, is not without strong appearances of interpolation. Though upon the whole the language is concise and natural, it is not without extravagancies that detract considerably from its general merits. Lochroyan the scene of the Poem is in Galloway, a place where, I sus pect, it could never be other than ridiculous to speak of a ship with "masts of gowd" and "sails o' silk." Gowd seems to be an object of peculiar veneration with the bards of that quarter, particularly with some late revivers of ancient song, and to some one of this Pluto-loving brotherhood, I suspect we are indebted for these splendid stanzas, and not to the apparently simple author of the original Ballad.

Burns has made this story the subject of a song, which has had the good fortune to be set to very fine music, but is not certainly to be classed among the more happy effusions of his muse. The late Peter Pindar, alias Dr. Walcot has also tried his hand upon the same subject, with little bet ter success. The old Ballad must still be allowed to be fairly worth them both.

SATIRE ON THE AGE.

QUHAIR is the blythnes that hes bein,
Bayth in burgh, and landwart, sein
Amang lordis, and ladeis schein;
Dansing, singing; game, and play?
Bot weil I wait nocht quhat thay mein;
All merrines is worne away.

II.

For nou I heir na wourde of Yule,
In kirk, on cassay, nor in skuil.
Lordis lat thair kitchings cule;

And drawis thame to the Abbay:
And scant hes ane to keip their mule.
All houshalding is worne away.

I saw no gysars all this yeir,
Bot-kirkmen cled lyk men of weir;
That never cummis in the queir:
Lyk ruffians' is thair array:

To preitche and teitche, that will not leir,
The kirk gudis thai waste away.

Kirkmen, affoir, war gude of lyf;
Preitchet, teitchit, and staunchit stryf.
Thai feirit nother swerd nor knyf

For luif of God, the suith to say.
All honorit thame, bayth man and wyf;
Devotioun wes nocht away.

Our faders wys war, and discreit;
Thai had bayth honour, men, and meit.
With luif thai did thair tennents treit;
And had aneuch in press to lay.
Thai wantit nother malt, nor quheit;
And merrines was nocht away.
T

15

And we hald nother Yule, nor Pace:
Bot seik our meit from place to place.
And we have nother luk nor grace;
We gar our landis dowbil pay:
Our tennents cry Alace! Alace!
'That reuth and petie is away!'

Now we have mair, it is weil kend,
Nor our forbearis had to spend;
Bot far les at the yeiris end:

And never hes ane merie day.
God will na ryches to us send,
Sa long as honour is away.

We waist far mair now, lyk vane fulis,
We, and our page, to turse our mulis,
Nor thai did than, that held grit Yulis;
Of meit and drink said never nay.

Thai had lang formes quhair we have stulis;
And merrines wes nocht away.

Of our wanthrift sum wytis playis;
And sum thair wantoun vane arrayis;
Sum the wyt on thair wyfis layis,

That in the court wald gang sa gay; And care nocht quha the merchand payis, Quhil pairt of land be put away.

The kirkmen keipis na professioun,
The temporale men commits oppressioun,
Puttand the puir from thair possessioun ;
Na kynd of feir of God have thai.
Thai cummar bayth the court, and session;
And chasis charitie away.