ath, which took place in the Cowgate, Edinburgh, early
in 1817, he became almost distracted, and never recovered his former
composure. He now roamed wildly through the country, seldom remaining
more than one night in the same place. He finally returned to
Dumfriesshire, his native county; and accidentally falling into the
Nith, caught an inflammatory fever, of which he died, in the village of
Ruthwell, on the 22d September 1818. Lewis was slender, and of low
stature. His countenance was sharp, and his eye intelligent, though
frenzied with excitement. He always expressed himself in the language of
enthusiasm, despised prudence and common sense, and commended the
impulsive and fanciful. He published, in 1816, a small volume, entitled
"The African Slave; with other Poems and Songs." Some of his lyrics are
not unworthy of a place in the national minstrelsy.

LANARK MILLS.

AIR--_"Miss Forbes' Farewell to Banff."_

Adieu! romantic banks of Clyde,
Where oft I 've spent the joyful day;
Now, weary wand'ring on thy side,
I pour the plaintive, joyless lay.
To other lands I 'm doom'd to rove,
The thought with grief my bosom fills;
Why am I forced to leave my love,
And wander far from Lanark Mills?

Can I forget th' ecstatic hours,
When ('scaped the village evening din)
I met my lass 'midst Braxfield bowers,
Or near the falls of Corhouse Linn!
While close I clasp'd her to my breast,
(Th' idea still with rapture thrills!)
I thought myself completely blest,
By all the lads of Lanark Mills.

Deceitful, dear, delusive dream,
Thou 'rt fled--alas! I know not where,
And vanish'd is each blissful gleam,
And left behind a load of care.
Adieu! dear winding banks of Clyde,
A long farewell, ye rising hills;
No more I 'll wander on your side,
Though still my heart 's at Lanark Mills.

While Tintock stands the pride of hills,
While Clyde's dark stream rolls to the sea,
So long, my dear-loved Lanark Mills,
May Heaven's best blessings smile on thee.
A last adieu! my Mary dear,
The briny tear my eye distils;
While reason's powers continue clear,
I 'll think of thee, and Lanark Mills.

O'ER THE MUIR.[12]

Ae morn of May, when fields were gay,
Serene and charming was the weather,
I chanced to roam some miles frae home,
Far o'er yon muir