Even the watch-dog 's lull'd asleep;
Hark! the clock the hour is knelling,
Wilt thou then thy promise keep?
Yes, I hear her softly coming,
Now her window 's gently raised;
There she stands, an angel blooming,
Come, my Mary, haste thee, haste!

Fear not, love, thy rigid father
Soundly sleeps bedrench'd with wine;
'Tis thy true-love holds the ladder,
To his care thyself resign!
Now my arms enfold a treasure,
Which for worlds I 'd not forego;
Now our bosoms feel that pleasure,
Faithful bosoms only know.

Long have our true-loves been thwarted,
By the stern decrees of pride,
Which would doom us to be parted,
And make thee another's bride;
But behold, my steeds are ready,
Soon they 'll post us far away;
Thou wilt be Glen Alva's lady,
Long before the dawn of day.

THE PEASANT'S FIRESIDE.

AIR--_"For lack o' gowd."_

How happy lives the peasant, by his ain fireside,
Wha weel employs the present, by his ain fireside;
Wi' his wifie blithe and free, and his bairnie on his knee,
Smiling fu' o' sportive glee, by his ain fireside!
Nae cares o' state disturb him, by his ain fireside;
Nae foolish fashions curb him, by his ain fireside;
In his elbow-chair reclined, he can freely speak his mind,
To his bosom-mate sae kind, by his ain fireside.

When his bonnie bairns increase, around his ain fireside,
What health, content, and peace surround his ain fireside,
A' day he gladly toils, and at night delighted smiles
At their harmless pranks and wiles, about his ain fireside;
And while they grow apace, about his ain fireside,
In beauty, strength, and grace, about his ain fireside,
Wi' virtuous precepts kind, by a sage example join'd,
He informs ilk youthfu' mind, about his ain fireside.

When the shivering orphan poor draws near his ain fireside,
And seeks the friendly door, that guards his ain fireside,
She 's welcomed to a seat, bidden warm her little feet,
While she 's kindly made to eat, by his ain fireside.
When youthfu' vigour fails him, by his ain fireside,
And hoary age assails him, by his ain fireside,
With joy he back surveys all his scenes of bygone days,
As he trod in wisdom's ways, by his ain fireside.

And when grim death draws near him, by his ain fireside,
What cause has he to fear him