Luve for luve is the bargain for me,

Tho' the wee cot-house should haud me;
And the world before me to win my bread,
And fair fa' my Collier Laddie.

And the world before me to win my bread,
And fair fa' my Collier Laddie.

NITHSDALE'S WELCOME HAME.

The Maxwells, after the fall of the house of Douglas, were the most powerful family in the south of Scotland; but the name is now no longer numbered with our nobility.

THE noble Maxwells and their powers
Are coming o'er the border,

And they'll gae bigg Terreagle's towers,
An' set them a' in order.

And they declare Terreagle's fair,
For their abode they choose it;
There's no a heart in a' the land,
But's lighter at the news o't.
Tho' stars in skies may disappear,
And angry tempests gather;
The happy hour may soon be near
That brings us pleasant weather:
The weary night o' care and grief,
May hae a joyful morrow;
So dawning day has brought relief—
Fareweel our night o' sorrow!

AS I WAS A-WANDERING.

This is an old Highland air, and the title means, my love did deceive me. There is much feeling expressed in this song. Tune-Rinn Meudial mo Mhealladh.

As I was a-wand'ring ae midsummer e'enin',
The pipers and youngsters were making their

game;

Amang them I spied my faithless fause lover, Which bled a'the wounds o' my doloure again.

c Grief.

Weel since he has left me, may pleasure gae wi'

I

him;

may be distress'd, but I winna complain; I flatter my fancy I may get anither,

What is right and what is wrang?
A short sword and a lang,
A weak arm, and a strang
For to draw.

What makes heroic strife, fam'd afar, fam'd afar? What makes heroic strife fam'd afar?

What makes heroic strife?

To whet th' assassin's knife,
Or hunt a parent's life
Wi' bluidie war.

Then let your schemes alone, in the state, in the

state;

Then let your schemes alone in the state;

Then let your schemes alone,

Adore the rising sun,

And leave a man undone
To his fate.

LADY MARY ANN.

Tune-Craigtown's growing.

O, LADY Mary Ann

Looks o'er the castle wa',
She saw three bonnie boys
Playing at the ba';

The youngest he was

The flower amang them a;
My bonnie laddie's young.
But he's growin' yet.

O father! O father!
An' ye think it fit,
We'll send him a year
To the college yet:

We'll sew a green ribbon

Round about his hat, And that will let them ken He's to marry yet

Lady Mary Ann

Was a flower i' the dew,
Sweet was its smell,

And bonnie was its hue!
And the langer it blossom'd
The sweeter it grew;
For the lily in the bud
Will be bonnier yet.

Young Charlie Cochran

Was the sprout of an aik; Bonnie and bloomin'

And straught was its make:

The sun took delight

To shine for its sake,

And it will be the brag
O' the forest yet.

The simmer is gane

When the leaves they were green,

And the days are awa

That we hae seen;

But far better days

I trust will come again,

For my bonnie laddie's young,
But he's growin' yet.

THE CARLE OF KELLYBURN BRAES.

Tune-Kellyburn Braes.

THERE lived a carle on Kellyburn braes

(Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme), And he had a wife was the plague o' his days; And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime. Ae day as the carle gaed up the lang glen

(Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme), He met wi' the devil; says, 'How do yow fen?' And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime. 'I've got a bad wife, sir; that's a' my complaint (Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme), For, saving your presence, to her ye're a saint; And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime.'

'It's neither your stot nor your staig I shall crave (Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme) But gie me your wife, man, for her I inust have, And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime.'

'O welcome, most kindly,' the blythe carle said (Hey, and the rue grows bonnie with thyme), 'But if ye can match her ye're waur nor ye're ca'd, And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime.'

The devil has got the auld wife on his back

(Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme), And, like a poor pedlar, he's carried his pack; And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime.

The ground-work of this piece is old, but it underwent many alterations by Burns; the eleventh and twelfth verses are wholly his; and as for the other parts, Mrs. Burns told Mr. Cromek, 'that he gae this ane a terrible brushing.'