ir to sever,
Till the day we die, lassie;
'Midst our bonnie woods and braes,
We 'll spend our peaceful, happy days,
As blithe 's yon lightsome lamb that plays
On Loudoun's flowery lea, lassie.

[78] Tannahill wrote this song in honour of the Earl of Moira,
afterwards Marquis of Hastings, and the Countess of Loudoun, to whom his
Lordship had been shortly espoused, when he was called abroad in the
service of his country.

THE LASS O' ARRANTEENIE.[79]

Far lone amang the Highland hills,
'Midst Nature's wildest grandeur,
By rocky dens, and woody glens,
With weary steps I wander.
The langsome way, the darksome day,
The mountain mist sae rainy,
Are nought to me when gaun to thee,
Sweet lass o' Arranteenie.

Yon mossy rosebud down the howe,
Just op'ning fresh and bonny,
Blinks sweetly 'neath the hazel bough,
And 's scarcely seen by ony;
Sae, sweet amidst her native hills,
Obscurely blooms my Jeanie,
Mair fair and gay than rosy May,
The flower o' Arranteenie.

Now, from the mountain's lofty brow,
I view the distant ocean,
There Av'rice guides the bounding prow,
Ambition courts promotion:--
Let Fortune pour her golden store,
Her laurell'd favours many;
Give me but this, my soul's first wish,
The lass o' Arranteenie.

[79] This song was written on a young lady, whom a friend of the author
met at Ardentinny, a retired spot on the margin of Loch Long.

YON BURN SIDE.[80]

AIR--_"The Brier-bush."_

We 'll meet beside the dusky glen, on yon burn side,
Where the bushes form a cosie den, on yon burn side;
Though the broomy knowes be green,
And there we may be seen,
Yet we 'll meet--we 'll meet at e'en down by yon burn side.

I 'll lead you to the birken bower, on yon burn side,
Sae sweetly wove wi' woodbine flower, on yon burn side;
There the busy prying eye,
Ne'er disturbs the lovers' joy,
While in ither's arms they lie, down by yon burn side,
Awa', ye rude, unfeeling crew, frae yon burn side,
Those fairy scenes are no for you, by yon burn side;
There fancy smoothes her theme,
By the sweetly murm'ring stream,
And the rock-lodged echoes skim, down by yon burn side.

Now the plantin' taps are tinged wi' goud, on yon burn side,
And gloamin' dra