SONGS.

UP IN THE MORNING EARLY.*

Up in the morning's no for me,

Up in the morning early ;

When a' the hills are covered wi❞ snaw,

I'm sure it's winter fairly.

COLD blaws the wind frae east to west,
The drift is driving sairly;

Sae loud and shrill's I hear the blast,
I'm sure it's winter fairly.

The birds sit chittering in the thorn,
A' day they fare but sparely;
And lang's the night frae e'en to morn,
I'm sure its winter fairly.

Up in the morning, &c.

The chorus is old.

SONG.

I DREAM'D I LAY WHERE FLOWERS WERE SPRING

ING.*

I DREAM'D I lay where flowers were springing,
Gaily in the sunny beam;
List'ning to the wild birds singing,

By a falling, crystal stream:

Straight the sky grew black and daring;

Thro' the woods the whirlwinds rave;

Trees with aged arms were warring,
O'er the swelling, drumlie wave.

Such was my life's deceitful morning,
Such the pleasures I enjoy'd;

But lang or noon, loud tempests storming
A' my flow'ry bliss destroy'd.

Tho' fickle fortune has deceiv'd me,

She promis'd fair, and perform❜d but ill;

Of mony a joy and hope bereav'd me,
I bear a heart shall support me still.

These two stanzas I composed when I was seventeen, and are among the oldest of my printed pieces.

Burns' Reliques, p. 242.

SONG.*

BEWARE O' BONIE ANN.

YE gallants bright I red you right,
Beware o' bonie Ann;

Her comely face sae fu' o' grace,
Your heart she will trepan.

Her een sae bright, like stars by night,
Her skin is like the swan;
Sae jimply lac'd her genty waist,
That sweetly ye might span.

Youth, grace, and love, attendant move,
And pleasure leads the van:

In a' their charms, and conquering arms,
They wait on bonie Ann.

The captive bands may chain the hands,
But love enslaves the man;

Ye gallants braw, I red you a',
Beware o' bonie Ann.

I composed this song out of compliment to Miss Ann Masterton, the daughter of my friend Allan Masterton, the author of the air of Strathallan's Lament, and two or three others in

this work.

Burns' Reliques, p. 266,

MY BONNIE MARY.*

Go fetch to me a pint o' wine,
An' fill it in a silver tassie;
That I may drink before I go,

A service to my bonnie lassie ;
The boat rocks at the pier o' Leith;

Fu' loud the wind blaws frae the ferry; The ship rides by the Berwick-law,

And I maun lea'e my bonnie Mary.

The trumpets sound, the banners fly,
The glittering spears are ranked ready;
The shouts o' war are heard afar,

The battle closes thick and bloody;
But it's not the roar o' sea or shore
Wad make me langer wish to tarry;
Nor shouts o' war that's heard afar,
It's leaving thee, my bonnie Mary.

SONG.

THERE'S A YOUTH IN THIS CITY.f

THERE's a youth in this city, it were a great pity That he from our lasses should wander awa; For he's bonie and braw, weel-favour'd with a', And his hair has a natural buckle and a'.

This air is Oswald's; the first half-stanza of the song is old.

+ This air is claimed by Neil Gow, who calls it his lament for his brother. The first half-stanza of the song is old.

His coat is the hue of his bonnet sae blue;

His fecket* is white as the new-driven snaw; His hose they are blae, and his shoon like the slae, And his clear siller buckles they dazzle us a'.

His coat is the hue, &c,

For beauty and fortune the laddie's been courtin; Weel-featur'd, weel-tocher'd, weel mounted and

braw;

But chiefly the siller, that gars him gang till her, The pennie's the jewel that beautifies a'.There's Meg wi' the mailen, that fain wad a haen him,

And Susy whase daddy was Laird o' the ha'; There's lang-tocher'd Nancy maist fetters his fancy, -But the laddie's dear sel he lo'es dearest of a'.

MY HEART'S IN THE HIGHLANDS.†

My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here ;
My heart's in the Highlands a chasing the deer;
Chasing the wild deer, and following the roe,
My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go.
Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North,
The birth-place of valour, the country of worth,
Wherever I wander, wherever I rove,

The hills of the Highlands for ever I love.

Farewell to the mountains high cover'd with snow, Farewell to the straths and green valleys below:

*Fecket-an under-waistcoat with sleeves.

+ The first half-stanza is old.