itted to our inspection by a
descendant, and from which we have made some extracts, contain numerous
poetical compositions worthy of being presented to the public. A vein of
humour pervades the majority of his verses; in the elegiac strain he is
eminently plaintive. He is remembered as a man of excellent dispositions
and eminent social qualities: he sung with grace the songs of his
country, and delighted in humorous conversation. His elder brother was
proprietor of Garnkirk, and his son, who bore the same Christian name,
became Sheriff of Renfrewshire. The latter is entitled to remembrance as
the author of "The History of Fiction."
THE YEAR THAT'S AWA'.
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,
While swift flew the year that's awa'.
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.
OH, DINNA ASK ME.
TUNE--_'Comin' through the rye.'_
Oh, dinna ask me gin I lo'e thee;
Troth, I daurna tell:
Dinna ask me gin I lo'e ye;
Ask it o' yoursel'.
Oh, dinna look sae sair at me,
For weel ye ken me true;
Oh, gin ye look sae sair at me,
I daurna look at you.
When ye gang to yon braw, braw town,
And bonnie lassies see,
Oh, dinna, Jamie, look at them,
Lest you should mind na me.
For I could never bide the lass
That ye'd lo'e mair than me;
And oh, I'm sure, my heart would break,
Gin ye'd prove false to me.
LOVE FLIES THE HAUNTS OF POMP AND POWER[9]
Love flies the haunts of pomp and power,
To find the calm retreat;
Loathing he leaves the velvet couch,
To seek the moss-grown seat.
Splendid attire and gilded crowns
Can ne'er with love accord;
But russet robes, and rosy wreathes,
His purest joys afford.
From pride, from business, and from care,
His greatest sorrows flow;
When these usurp the heart of man,
That heart he ne'er can know.
FO
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