Words and music by NATHANIEL or NEIL Gow, born 1727, died 1807.

YOU'VE surely heard o' famous Neil,
The man that play'd the fiddle weel;
I wat he was a canty chiel,

And dearly lo'ed the whisky 0.
And aye sin he wore tartan trews,
He dearly lo'ed the Athol brose;
And wae was he, you may suppose,
To play farewell to whisky O.

Alake, quoth Neil, I'm frail and auld,
And find my bluid grow unco cauld;
I think 'twad make me blithe and bauld,
A wee drap Highland whisky O.
Yet the doctors they do a' agree,
That whisky's no the drink for me.
By Saul! quoth Neil, 'twill spoil my glee,
Should they part me and whisky 0.

Though I can baith get wine and ale,
And find my head and fingers hale,
I'll be content, though legs should fail,
To play farewell to whisky O.
But still I think on auld lang syne,
When Paradise our friends did tyne,
Because something ran in their mind,
Forbid like Highland whisky 0.

Come, a' ye powers o' music, come ;
I find my heart grows unco glum;
My fiddle-strings will no play bum,
To say farewell to whisky O.
Yet I'll take my fiddle in my hand,
And screw the pegs up while they'll stand,
To make a lamentation grand

For gude auld Highland whisky 0.

As a performer on the violin Neil Gow was unequalled. "The livelier airs," says one of his biographers, "which belong to the class of what are called strathspey and reel, and which have long been peculiar to the northern part of the island, assumed in his hand a style of spirit, fire, and beauty, which had never been heard before. There is perhaps no species whatever of music executed on the violin in which the characteristic expression depends more on his power of the bow, particularly in what is called the upward or returning stroke, than the Highland reel. Here accordingly was Gow's forte. His bow-hand, as a suitable instrument of his genius, was uncommonly powerful; and where the note produced by the up-bow was often feeble and indistinct in other hands, it was struck in his playing with a strength and certainty which never failed to surprise the skilful hearer. To this extraordinary power of the bow, in the hand of great original genius, must be ascribed the singular felicity of expression which he gave to all his music, and the native Highland goût of certain tunes, such as 'Tullochgorum,' in which his taste and style of bowing could never be exactly reached by any other performer. We may add the effect of the sudden shout with which he frequently accompanied his playing in the quick tunes, and which seemed instantly to electrify the dancers, inspiring them with new life and energy, and rousing the spirits of the most inanimate."

Neil Gow excelled also in the composition of Scottish melodies; and his sets of the older tunes and various of his own airs were prepared for publication by his son Nathaniel. In private life Neil Gow was distinguished by his unpretending manners, his homely humour, and strong good sense and knowledge of the world. His figure was vigorous and manly, and the expression of his countenance spirited and intelligent. His whole appearance exhibited so characteristic a model of a Scottish Highlander, that his portrait was to be found at one time in all parts of the country. Four admirable likenesses of him were painted by the late Sir Henry Raeburn: one for the county-hall at Perth, and the others for the Duke of Athol, Lord Gray, and Lord Panmure. His portrait was also introduced into the view of a "Highland Wedding" by the late Sir William Allan, along with that of Donald Gow, his brother, who usually accompanied him on the violoncello.-Scottish Biography.

GUDE NIGHT, AND JOY BE WI' YOU A'.

SIR ALEXANDER BOSWELL.

GUDE night, and joy be wi' you a';
Your harmless mirth has cheer'd my
May life's fell blasts out ower ye blaw ;

In sorrow may you never part!
My spirit lives, but strength is gone,

heart:

The mountain fires now blaze in vain ;
Remember, sons, the deeds I've done,
And in your deeds I'll live again.

When on yon muir a gallant clan
Frae boasting foes their banners tore,
Wha show'd himself a better man,

Or fiercer waved the red claymore?
But when in peace—then mark me there—
When through the glen the wanderer came,
I gave him of our lordly fare,

I gave him here a welcome hame.

The auld will speak, the young maun hear;
Be cantie, but be guid and leal;
Your ain ills aye hae heart to bear,
Another's aye hae heart to feel.
So, ere I set, I'll see you shine,

I'll see your triumph ere I fa';

My parting breath shall boast you mine ;—
Gude night, and joy be wi' you a'!

AULD GUDEMAN: A MATRIMONIAL DUET.

SIR ALEXANDER BOSWELL.

"AULD gudeman, ye're a druken carle, druken carle !
A' the lang day ye wink and drink, and gape and gaunt;
O' sottish loons ye're the pink and pearl, pink and pearl,
Ill-far'd, doited ne'er-do-weel."

"Hech, gudewife! ye're a flyting body, flyting body;
Will ye hae; but, Guid be praised, the wit ye want.
The puttin' cow should be aye a doddy, aye a doddy;
Mak' na sic an awsome reel."

"Ye're a sow, auld man;
Ye get fou, auld man ;
Fie for shame, auld man,

To your wame, auld man :
Pinch'd I win, wi' spinnin' tow,

A plack to cleid your back and pow."

"It's a lie, gudewife ;
It's your tea, gudewife;
Na, na, gudewife,

Ye spend a', gudewife.
Dinna fa' on me pell-mell,

Ye like the drap fu' weel yoursell.”

"Ye's rue, auld gowk, your jest and frolic, jest and frolic;
Dare ye say, goose, I ever liked to tak' a drappy?
An' 'twerena just to cure the colic, cure the colic,
Deil a drap wad weet my mou'."

"Troth, gudewife, an' ye wadna swither, wadna swither, Soon to tak' a colic, when it brings a drap o' cappy; But twascore years we hae fought thegither, fought thegither; Time it is to gree, I trow."

"I'm wrang, auld John;

Ower lang, auld John;
For nought, gude John,

We hae fought, gude John;

Let's help to bear ilk ither's weight,
We're far ower feckless now to fight."

"Ye're richt, gude Kate;

The nicht, gude Kate,

Our cup, gude Kate,

We'll sup, gude Kate;

Thegither frae this hour we'll draw,

And toom the stoop atween us twa."

THE YEAR THAT'S AWA'.

MR. DUNLOP. Air-" It's good to be off wi' the old love."

HERE'S to the year that's awa'!

We will drink it in strong and in sma'; And here's to ilk bonnie young lassie we lo'ed, that's awa'.

While swift flew the year

And here's to ilk, &c.

Here's to the sodger who bled,

And the sailor who bravely did fa';
Their fame is alive, though their spirits are fled
On the wings of the year that's awa'.
Their fame is alive, &c.

Here's to the friends we can trust

When the storms of adversity blaw;

May they live in our song, and be nearest our hearts,
Nor depart like the year that's awa'!
May they live, &c.

HERE'S TO YOU AGAIN.

ALEXANDER RODGER. Air-" Todlin hame."

(From "Whistle Binkie," third series. Glasgow, 1842.)

LET votaries o' Bacchus o' wine make their boast,
And drink till it mak' them as dead's a bed-post;

A drap o' maut broe I wad far rather pree,

And a rosy-faced landlord's the Bacchus for me.

Then I'll toddle but and I'll toddle ben,

And let them drink at wine wha nae better do ken.

Your wine it may do for the bodies far south,

But a Scotsman likes something that bites i' the mouth,
And whisky's the thing that can do't to a tee.
Then Scotsmen and whisky will ever agree;
For wi' toddlin' but and toddlin' ben,

Sae lang we've been nurst on't we hardly can spean.