my tartan plaid,
How blest I lie wi' you aside me!
And art thou happy--dearest, speak--
Wi' me aneath the tartan plaidie?
Yes; that dear glance, sae saft and meek,
Resigns thee to thy shepherd laddie.

The saftness o' the gentle dove,
Its eyes in dying sweetness closin',
Is like thae languid eyes o' love,
Sae fondly on my heart reposin'.
When simmer suns the flowers expand,
In a' their silken beauties shinin',
They 're no sae saft as thy white hand,
Upon my love-warm cheek reclinin'.

While thus, aneath my tartan plaid,
Sae warmly to my lips I press ye;
That hinnied bloom o' dewy red
Is nocht like thy sweet lips, dear lassie!
Reclined on love's soft crimson bed,
Our hearts sae fondly lock'd thegither;
Thus o'er my cheek thy ringlets spread,
How happy, happy 'mang the heather!

ROBERT GILFILLAN.

A respectable contributor to the Caledonian minstrelsy, Robert Gilfillan
was born in Dunfermline on the 7th July 1798. His parents were in humble
circumstances; and owing to the infirmities of his father, he was
required, while a mere youth, to engage in manual labour for the support
of the family. He found a solace to his toils in the gratification of a
turn for verse-making, which he inherited from his mother. In his
thirteenth year, he entered on an apprenticeship to a cooper in Leith;
and at the age of twenty, became a grocer's assistant in his native
town. From his twenty-third till his thirty-ninth year, he acted as
clerk to a wine-merchant in Leith. In 1837, he was preferred to the
office of Collector of Poor's-rates in Leith, and continued to hold this
appointment till his death. This event took place on the 4th December
1850, in his fifty-second year.

A man of amiable and social dispositions, Gilfillan was much cherished
among the wits of the capital. A volume of lyrics from his pen passed
through two editions; and several of his songs have been set to music,
and have attained a well-merited popularity. His style is remarkable for
graceful simplicity.

MANOR BRAES.

TUNE--_"Logan Water."_

Where Manor stream rins blithe an' clear,
And Castlehill's white wa's appear,
I spent ae day, aboon a' days,
By Manor stream, 'mang Manor braes.
The purple heath was just in bloom,
And bonnie waved the upland broom,
The flocks on flowery braes lay still,
Or, he