its foes,
How Leslie did triumph o'er gallant Montrose;
And the Covenant's banner ower Philiphaugh's fiel'
Waved glorious--'twas noble, says Watty M'Neil.

Then gang and see Watty ere laid in the mools,
He 's a help to the wise folk, a lesson to fools;
Contentment and innocence mingle sae weel
Mid the braw lyart haffits o' Watty M'Neil.

WILLIAM FERGUSON.

The author of several esteemed and popular songs, William Ferguson,
follows the avocation of a master plumber in Nicolson Street, Edinburgh.
Born within the shadow of the Pentlands, near the scene of Ramsay's
"Gentle Shepherd," he has written verses from his youth. He has
contributed copiously to "Whistle Binkie," and "The Book of Scottish
Song."

I 'LL TEND THY BOWER, MY BONNIE MAY.

I 'll tend thy bower, my bonnie May,
In spring time o' the year;
When saft'ning winds begin to woo
The primrose to appear;
When daffodils begin to dance,
And streams again flow free;
And little birds are heard to pipe,
On the sprouting forest tree.

I 'll tend thy bower, my bonnie May,
When summer days are lang,
When nature's heart is big wi' joy,
Her voice laden wi' sang;
When shepherds pipe on sunny braes,
And flocks roam at their will,
And auld and young, in cot an' ha',
O' pleasure drink their fill.

I 'll tend thy bower, my bonnie May,
When autumn's yellow fields,
That wave like seas o' gowd, before
The glancin' sickle yields;
When ilka bough is bent wi' fruit--
A glorious sight to see!--
And showers o' leaves, red, rustling, sweep
Out owre the withering lea.

I 'll tend thy bower, my bonnie May,
When, through the naked trees,
Cauld, shivering on the bare hill-side,
Sweeps wild the frosty breeze;
When tempests roar, and billows rise,
Till nature quakes wi' fear,
And on the land, and on the sea,
Wild winter rules the year.

WOOING SONG.

The spring comes back to woo the earth,
Wi' a' a lover's speed;
The wee birds woo their lovin' mates,
Around our very head!
But I 've nae skill in lover-craft--
For till I met wi' you,
I never sought a maiden's love,
I never tried to woo.

I 've gazed on many a comely face,
And thought it sweet an' fair;
But wi' the face the charm would flee,
And nev