I haena a hame, quo' the bonnie la.s.sie-- I haena a hame, nor ha'; Fain here wad I rest my weary feet, For the night begins to fa'.

I took her into our tapestry ha', An' we drank the ruddy wine; An' aye I strave, but fand my heart Fast bound wi' Love's silken twine.

I ween'd she might be the fairies' queen She was sae jimp and sma'; And the tear that dimm'd her bonnie blue e'e Fell ower twa heaps o' snaw.

Oh, whare do ye wend, my sweet winsome doo?

An' whare may your dwelling be?

Can the winter's rain an' the winter's wind Blaw cauld on sic as ye?

I haena a hame, quo' the bonnie la.s.sie-- I haena a ha' nor hame; My father was ane o' "Charlie's" men, An' him I daurna name.

Whate'er be your kith, whate'er be your kin, Frae this ye mauna gae; An' gin ye 'll consent to be my ain, Nae marrow ye shall hae.

Sweet maiden, tak' the siller cup, Sae fu' o' the damask wine, An' press it to your cherrie lip, For ye shall aye be mine.

An' drink, sweet doo, young Charlie's health, An' a' your kin sae dear; Culloden has dimm'd mony an e'e Wi' mony a saut, saut tear.

THE THISTLE AND THE ROSE.

There grew in bonnie Scotland A thistle and a brier, And aye they twined and clasp'd, Like sisters, kind and dear.

The rose it was sae bonnie, It could ilk bosom charm; The thistle spread its th.o.r.n.y leaf, To keep the rose frae harm.

A bonnie laddie tended The rose baith ear' and late; He water'd it, and fann'd it, And wove it with his fate; And the leal hearts of Scotland Pray'd it might never fa', The thistle was sae bonny green, The rose sae like the snaw.

But the weird sisters sat Where Hope's fair emblems grew; They drapt a drap upon the rose O' bitter, blasting dew; And aye they twined the mystic thread,-- But ere their task was done, The snaw-white shade it disappear'd, And wither'd in the sun!

A bonnie laddie tended The rose baith ear' an' late; He water'd it, and fann'd it, And wove it with his fate; But the thistle tap it wither'd, Winds bore it far awa', And Scotland's heart was broken, For the rose sae like the snaw!

THE COVENANTER'S LAMENT.

TUNE--_"The Martyr's Grave."_

There 's nae Covenant now, la.s.sie!

There 's nae Covenant now!

The Solemn League and Covenant Are a' broken through!

There 's nae Renwick now, la.s.sie, There 's nae gude Cargill, Nor holy Sabbath preaching Upon the Martyrs' Hill!

It 's naething but a sword, la.s.sie!

A bluidy, bluidy ane!

Waving owre poor Scotland, For her rebellious sin.

Scotland 's a' wrang, la.s.sie, Scotland 's a' wrang-- It 's neither to the hill nor glen, La.s.sie, we daur gang.

The Martyrs' Hill 's forsaken, In simmer's dusk sae calm; There 's nae gathering now, la.s.sie, To sing the e'ening psalm!

But the martyr's grave will rise, la.s.sie, Aboon the warrior's cairn; An' the martyr soun' will sleep, la.s.sie, Aneath the waving fern!

BONNIE La.s.sIE.

Bonnie la.s.sie, blythesome la.s.sie, Sweet 's the sparkling o' thine e'e; Aye sae wyling, aye beguiling, Ye hae stown my heart frae me.

Fondly wooing, fondly sueing, Let me love, nor love in vain; Fate shall never fond hearts sever, Hearts still bound by true love's chain.

Fancy dreaming, hope bright beaming, Shall each day life's feast renew; Ours the treasure, ours the pleasure, Still to live and love more true.

Mirth and folly, joys unholy, Never shall our thoughts employ; Smiles inviting, hearts uniting, Love and bliss without alloy.

Bonnie la.s.sie, blythesome la.s.sie, Sweet 's the sparkling o' thine e'e; Aye sae wyling, aye beguiling, Ye hae stown my heart frae me.

ANDREW MERCER.

Andrew Mercer was born at Selkirk, in 1775. By his father, who was a respectable tradesman, he was destined for the pulpit of the United Secession Church. He became a student in the University of Edinburgh, in 1790, and was the cla.s.s-fellow and friend of John Leyden, and of Dr Alexander Murray, the future philologist. At the house of Dr Robert Anderson, he formed the intimacy of Thomas Campbell; he also numbered among his early a.s.sociates Thomas Brown and Mungo Park. Abandoning theological study, he cultivated a taste for the fine arts; and he endeavoured to establish himself in the capital in the twofold capacity of a miniature-painter, and a man of letters. With respect to both avocations, he proved unfortunate. In 1804, a periodical ent.i.tled the _North British Magazine_ was originated and supported by his friends, on his behalf; but the publication terminated at the end of thirteen months. At a subsequent period, he removed to Dunfermline, where he was engaged in teaching, and in drawing patterns for the manufacturers. In 1828, he published a "History of Dunfermline," in a duodecimo volume; and, at an interval of ten years, a volume of poems, ent.i.tled "Summer Months among the Mountains." A man of considerable ingenuity and scholarship, he lacked industry and steadiness of application. His latter years were clouded by poverty. He died at Dunfermline on the 11th of June 1842, in his 67th year.

THE HOUR OF LOVE.

When the fair one and the dear one-- Her lover by her side-- Strays or sits as fancy flits, Where yellow streamlets glide; Gleams illuming--flowers perfuming Where'er her footsteps rove; Time beguiling with her smiling, Oh! that 's the hour of love.

When the fair one and the dear one, Amid a moonlight scene, Where grove and glade, and light and shade, Are all around serene; Heaves the soft sigh of ecstasy, While coos the turtle-dove, And in soft strains appeals--complains, Oh! that 's the hour of love.

Should the fair one and the dear one The sigh of pity lend For human woe, that presses low A stranger, or a friend, Tears descending, sweetly blending, As down her cheeks they rove; Beauty's charms in pity's arms-- Oh! that 's the hour of love.

When the fair one and the dear one Appears in morning dreams, In flowing vest by fancy drest, And all the angel beams; The heavenly mien, and look serene, Confess her from above; While rising sighs and dewy eyes Say, that 's the hour of love!

JOHN LEYDEN, M.D.

John Leyden was born on the 8th September 1775, at Denholm, a hamlet in the parish of Cavers, Roxburghshire. His ancestors, for several generations, were farmers, but his father followed the humble occupation of a shepherd. Of four brothers and two sisters, John was the eldest.

About a year after his birth, his father removed to Henlawshiel, a solitary cottage,[94] about three miles from Denholm, on the margin of the heath stretching down from the "stormy Ruberslaw." He received the rudiments of knowledge from his paternal grandmother; and discovering a remarkable apt.i.tude for learning, his father determined to afford him the advantages of a liberal education. He was sent to the parish school of Kirkton, and afterwards placed under the tutorship of a Cameronian clergyman, in Denholm, reputed as a cla.s.sical scholar. In 1790, he entered the University of Edinburgh, where he soon acquired distinction for his cla.s.sical attainments and devotedness to general learning. His last session of college attendance was spent at St Andrews, where he became a tutor. By the Presbytery of St Andrews, in May 1798, he was licensed as a probationer of the Scottish Church. On obtaining his licence, he returned to the capital, where his reputation as a scholar had secured him many friends. He now accepted the editorship of the _Scots Magazine_, to which he had formerly been a contributor, and otherwise employed himself in literary pursuits. In 1799, he published, in a duodecimo volume, "An Historical and Philosophical Sketch of the Discoveries and Settlements of the Europeans in Northern and Central Africa, at the Close of the Eighteenth Century." "The Complaynt of Scotland," a curious political treatise of the sixteenth century, next appeared under his editorial care, with an ingenious introduction, and notes. In 1801, he contributed the ballad of "The Elf-king," to Lewis'