Frae their grandeur an' their gloom, Where the freeborn lintie sings its sang On the Muir o' Gorse an' Broom.

Sae weel as I like the healthfu' gale, That blaws fu' kindly there, An' the heather brown, an' the wild blue-bell That wave on the muirland bare; An' the singing birds, an' the humming bees, An' the little lochs that toom Their gushing burns to the distant sea O'er the Muir o' Gorse an' Broom.

Oh! if I had a dwallin' there, Biggit laigh by a burnie's side, Where ae aik tree, in the summer time, Wi' its leaves that hame might hide; Oh! I wad rejoice frae day to day, As blithe as a young bridegroom; For dearer than palaces to me Is the Muir o' Gorse an' Broom!

In a lanely cot on a muirland wild, My mither nurtured me; O' the meek wild-flowers I playmates made, An' my hame wi' the wandering bee.

An', oh! if I were far awa'

Frae your grandeur an' your gloom, Wi' them again, an' the bladden gale, On the Muir o' Gorse an' Broom.

THE BONNIE HIELAND HILLS.

Oh! the bonnie Hieland hills, Oh! the bonnie Hieland hills, The bonnie hills o' Scotland O!

The bonnie Hieland hills.

There are lands on the earth where the vine ever blooms, Where the air that is breathed the sweet orange perfumes; But mair dear is the blast the lane shepherd that chills As it wantons along o'er our ain Hieland hills.

Oh! the bonnie Hieland hills.

There are rich garden lands wi' their skies ever fair; But o' riches or beauty we mak na our care; Wherever we wander ae vision aye fills Our hearts to the burstin'--our ain Hieland hills.

Oh! the bonnie Hieland hills.

In our lone and deep valleys fair maidens there are, Though born in the midst o' the elements' war; O sweet are the damsels that sing by our rills, As they dash to the sea frae our ain Hieland hills.

Oh! the bonnie Hieland hills.

On the moss-cover'd rock wi' their broadswords in hand, To fight for fair freedom, their sons ever stand; A storm-nursed bold spirit each warm bosom fills, That guards frae a' danger our ain Hieland hills.

Oh! the bonnie Hieland hills, Oh! the bonnie Hieland hills; The bonnie hills o' Scotland O!

The bonnie Hieland hills.

THE BONNIE ROWAN BUSH.

The bonnie rowan bush In yon lane glen, Where the burnie clear doth gush In yon lane glen; My head is white and auld, An' my bluid is thin an' cauld; But I lo'e the bonnie rowan bush In yon lane glen.

My Jeanie first I met In yon lane glen, When the gra.s.s wi' dew was wet In yon lane glen; The moon was shining sweet, An' our hearts wi' love did beat, By the bonnie, bonnie rowan bush In yon lane glen.

Oh! she promised to be mine, In yon lane glen; Her heart she did resign, In yon lane glen; An' mony a happy day Did o'er us pa.s.s away, Beside the bonnie rowan bush In yon lane glen.

Sax bonnie bairns had we In yon lane glen-- Lads an' la.s.sies young an' spree, In yon lane glen; An' a blither family Than ours there cou'dna be, Beside the bonnie rowan bush In yon lane glen.

Now my auld wife's gane awa'

Frae yon lane glen, An' though summer sweet doth fa'

On yon lane glen-- To me its beauty's gane, For, alake! I sit alane Beside the bonnie rowan bush In yon lane glen.

BONNIE BESSIE LEE.

Bonnie Bessie Lee had a face fu' o' smiles, And mirth round her ripe lip was aye dancing slee; And light was the footfa', and winsome the wiles, O' the flower o' the parochin, our ain Bessie Lee!

Wi' the bairns she would rin, and the school laddies paik, And o'er the broomy braes like a fairy would flee, Till auld hearts grew young again wi' love for her sake-- There was life in the blithe blink o' bonnie Bessie Lee!

She grat wi' the waefu', and laughed wi' the glad, And light as the wind 'mang the dancers was she; And a tongue that could jeer, too, the little limmer had, Whilk keepit aye her ain side for bonnie Bessie Lee!

She could sing like the lintwhite that sports 'mang the whins, An' sweet was her note as the bloom to the bee-- It has aft thrilled my heart whaur our wee burnie rins, Where a' thing grew fairer wi' bonnie Bessie Lee.[27]

And she whiles had a sweetheart, and sometimes had twa, A limmer o' a la.s.sie; but atween you and me, Her warm wee bit heartie she ne'er threw awa', Though mony a ane had sought it frae bonnie Bessie Lee.

But ten years had gane since I gazed on her last-- For ten years had parted my auld hame and me-- And I said to mysel', as her mither's door I pa.s.sed, Will I ever get anither kiss frae bonnie Bessie Lee?

But Time changes a' thing--the ill-natured loon!

Were it ever sae rightly, he 'll no let it be; And I rubbit at my e'en, and I thought I would swoon, How the carle had come roun' about our ain Bessie Lee!

The wee laughing la.s.sie was a gudewife grown auld, Twa weans at her ap.r.o.n, and ane on her knee, She was douce too, and wise-like--and wisdom's sae cauld; I would rather hae the ither ane than this Bessie Lee.

FOOTNOTES:

[27] The last four lines of this stanza are not the production of Nicoll, but have been contributed for the present work by Mr Alexander Wilson, of Perth. The insertion of the lines prevents the occurrence of a half stanza, which has. .h.i.therto interfered with the singing of this popular song.

ARCHIBALD STIRLING IRVING.

Archibald Stirling Irving was born in Edinburgh on the 18th of December 1816. His father, John Irving, Writer to the Signet, was the intimate early friend of Sir Walter Scott, and is "the prosperous gentleman"

referred to in the general Introduction to the Waverley Novels. Having a delicate const.i.tution, young Irving was unable to follow any regular profession, but devoted himself, when health permitted, to the concerns of literature. He made himself abundantly familiar with the Latin cla.s.sics, and became intimately conversant with the more distinguished British poets. Possessed of a remarkably retentive memory, he could repeat some of the longest poems in the language. Receiving a handsome annuity from his father, he resided in various of the more interesting localities of Scottish scenery, some of which he celebrated in verse. He published anonymously, in 1841, a small volume of "Original Songs," of which the song selected for the present work may be regarded as a favourable specimen. He died at Newmills, near Ardrossan, on the 20th September 1851, in his thirty-fifth year. Some time before his death, he exclusively devoted himself to serious reflection and Scriptural reading. He married in October 1850, and his widow still survives.

THE WILD-ROSE BLOOMS.

TUNE--_"Caledonia."_

The wild-rose blooms in Drummond woods, The trees are blossom'd fair, The lake is smiling to the sun, And Mary wand'ring there.

The powers that watch'd o'er Mary's birth Did nature's charms despoil; They stole for her the rose's blush, The sweet lake's dimpled smile.

The lily for her breast they took, Nut-brown her locks appear; But when they came to make her eyes, They robb'd the starry sphere.

But cruel sure was their design, Or mad-like their device-- For while they filled her eyes with fire, They made her heart of ice.