But oh, the poor man's heart is drear
To part from you for ever!

May God forgive our haughty lords,
For whom our fathers drew their swords;
No tear for us their pride affords,
No bond of love they sever.
Farewell ye braes of broad Braemar,
From bleak Ben Aon to Loch-na-Gar--
The friendless poor is banished far
From your green glens for ever!

MY LOVES.

Name the leaves on all the trees,
Name the waves on all the seas,
Name the notes of all the groves--
Thus thou namest all my loves.

I do love the dark, the fair,
Golden ringlets, raven hair,
Eye that swims in sunny light,
Glance that shoots like lightning bright.

I do love the stately dame
And the sportive girl the same;
Every changeful phase between
Blooming cheek and brow serene.

I do love the young, the old,
Maiden modest, virgin bold,
Tiny beauties, and the tall--
Earth has room enough for all.

Which is better--who can say?--
Lucy grave or Mary gay?
She who half her charms conceals?
She who sparkles while she feels?

Why should I confine my love?
Nature bids us freely rove;
God hath scatter'd wide the fair,
Blooms and beauties everywhere.

Paris was a pedant fool,
Meting beauty by a rule:
Pallas? Juno? Venus?--he
Should have chosen all the three.

I am wise, life's every bliss
Thankful tasting; and a kiss
Is a sweet thing, I declare,
From a dark maid or a fair.

LIKING AND LOVING.

Liking is a little boy
Dreaming of a sea employ,
Sitting by the stream, with joy
Paper frigates sailing:
Love 's an earnest-hearted man,
Champion of beauty's clan,
Fighting bravely in the van,
Pushing and prevailing.

Liking hovers round and round,
Capers with a nimble bound,
Plants his foot on easy ground,
Through the glass to view it:
Love shoots sudden glance for glance,
Spurs the steed, and rests the lance,
With a brisk and bold advance,
Sworn to die or do it.

Liking 's ever on the wing,
From new blooms new sweets to bring;
Nibbling aye, the nimble thing
From the hook is free still:
Love 's a tar of British blue,
Let mad winds their maddest do,
To his haven carded true,
As I am to thee still.

WILLIAM STIRLING, M.P.

William