of the editorship of the _Courier_, in consequence of a change
in the proprietary, Goldie proceeded to London, in the hope of forming
a connexion with some of the leading newspapers in the metropolis.
Unsuccessful in this effort, he formed the project of publishing _The
London Scotsman_, a newspaper to be chiefly devoted to the consideration
of Scottish affairs. Lacking that encouragement necessary to the
ultimate success of this adventure, he abandoned the scheme after the
third publication, and in very reduced circumstances returned to
Scotland. He now projected the _Paisley Advertiser_, of which the first
number appeared on the 9th October 1824. The editorship of this
newspaper he retained till his death, which took place suddenly on the
27th February 1826, in his twenty-eighth year.

Of a vigorous intellect, and possessed of a correct literary taste,
Goldie afforded excellent promise of eminence as a journalist. As a poet
and song-writer, a rich vein of humour pervades certain of his
compositions, while others are marked by a plaintive tenderness. Of
sociable and generous dispositions, he was much esteemed by a circle of
admiring friends. His personal appearance was pleasing, and his
countenance wore the aspect of intelligence.

AND CAN THY BOSOM?

AIR--_"Loudon's Bonnie Woods and Braes."_

And can thy bosom bear the thought
To part frae love and me, laddie?
Are all those plighted vows forgot,
Sae fondly pledged by thee, laddie?
Canst thou forget the midnight hour,
When in yon love-inspiring bower,
You vow'd by every heavenly power
You'd ne'er lo'e ane but me, laddie?
Wilt thou--wilt thou gang and leave me--
Win my heart and then deceive me?
Oh! that heart will break, believe me,
Gin' ye part wi' me, laddie.

Aft ha'e ye roos'd my rosy cheek,
Aft praised my sparkling e'e, laddie,
Aft said nae bliss on earth ye'd seek,
But love and live wi' me, laddie.
But soon those cheeks will lose their red,
Those eyes in endless sleep be hid,
And 'neath the turf the heart be laid
That beats for love and thee, laddie.
Wilt thou--wilt thou gang and leave me--
Win my heart and then deceive me?
Oh! that heart will break, believe me,
Gin ye part frae me, laddie.

You'll meet a form mair sweet and fair,
Where rarer beauties shine, laddie,
But, oh! the heart can never bear
A love s