O Marion! the heart that is true
Has something mair costly than gear,
Ilk e'en it has naithing to rue;
Ilk morn it has naithing to fear.

Ye warldlings! gae, hoard up your store,
And tremble for fear ought ye tyne :
Guard your treasures wi' lock, bar, and door,
While here in my arms I lock mine!'

He ends wi' a kiss and a smile-
Waes me! can I tak it amiss?
My laddie's unpractis'd in guile,
He's free ay to daut and to kiss!
Ye lasses wha loe to torment

Your wooers wi' fause scorn and strife,
Play your pranks-I hae gi'en my consent,
And this night 1 am Jamie's for life.

O TELL ME HOW FOR TO WOO.

Air-Bonny Dundee.

'OH! tell me, bonie young lassie! Oh tell me how for to woo!

Oh tell me, bonie sweet lassie !

Oh tell me how for to woo !

Say, maun I roose your cheeks like the morning?
Lips like the roses fresh moisten'd wi' dew?
Say, maun I roose your een's pawkie scorning?
Oh! tell me how for to woo!

Far hae I wander'd to see the dear lassie !
Far hae I ventur'd across the saut sea!

Far hae 1 travell'd owre moorland and mountain,
Houseless, and weary, sleep'd cauld on the lea!
Ne'er hae I tried yet to mak luve to onie ;
For ne'er loo'd I onie till ance I loo'd you;
Now we're alane in the green-wood sae bonie!
-Oh! tell me how for to woo!'

'What care I for you wand'ring, young laddie! What care I for your crossing the sea!

It was na for naithing ye left poor young Peggy;
It was for my tocher ye cam to court me ;-
Say, hae ye gowd to busk me aye gawdie?
Ribbans, and perlins, and breast-knots enew?
A house that is canty, wi' walth in't my laddie?
Without this ye never need try for to woo.'

'I hae na gowd to busk ye aye gawdie!
I canna buy ribbans and perlins enew!
I've naithing to brag o', house, or o' plenty!
I've little to gie but a heart that is true-
I cam na for tocher-I ne'er heard o' onie ;
I never loo'd Peggy nor e'er brak my vow—
I've wander'd, poor fool! for a face fause as
bonie!

-I little thought this was the way for to woo!'

Our laird has fine houses, and guineas in gowpins! He's youthfu', he's blooming, and comely to see! The leddies are a' ga'en wood for the wooer, And yet, ilka e'ening, he leaves them for me!

O! saft in the gloaming his luve he discloses!
And saftly yestreen, as I milked my cow,

He swore that my breath it was sweeter than

roses,

And a' the gait hame he did naithing but woo.'

Ah, Jenny! the young laird may brag o' his siller,

His houses, his lands, and his lordly degree;

His speeches for true luve may drap sweet as honey,

But, trust me, dear Jenny! he ne'er loed like me.
The wooing o' gentry are the words o' fashion;
The faster they fa' as the heart is least true!—
The dumb look o' luve's aft the best proof o'
passion :

The heart that feels maist is the least fit to woo!'

'Hae na ye roos'd my cheeks like the morning!
Hae na ye roos'd my cherry-red mou!

Hae na ye come owre sea, moor, and mountain,
What mair, Johnie, need ye to woo?

Far hae ye wander'd, I ken my dear laddie!

Now that ye've found me, there's na cause to rue; Wi' health we'll hae plenty-I'll never gang gaw

die,

I ne'er wish'd for mair than a heart that is true.'

She hid her fair face in her true lover's bosom ;
The saft tear o' transport fill'd ilk lover's ee;
The burnie ran sweet by their side as they sabbit,
And sweet sang the mavis aboon on the tree.

He clasp'd her, he press'd her, and ca'd her his

hinny,

And aften he tasted her hinny-sweet mou;

And ay 'tween ilk kiss she sigh'd to her Johnie 'Oh! laddie!-weel can ye woo!'

TAK TENT AND BE WARY.

HECH! lass, but ye're cantie and vogie! Wow! but your e'en look pauky and roguie! What war ye doing, Kate, down in yon bogie,

Up in the morning sae airy and grey?'

'I've been wi' some body! what need ye to speer? I've been wi' young Jamie !-I've been wi' my

dear!

-God save me! my mither will miss me, I fear! D'ye ken, lass! he's courting me a' the lang day!'

'O Kate, tak tent and be wary!

Jamie's a sad ane-he never will marry;

Think o' poor Tibby;-he's left her to carry Black burning shame till the day that she'll die !'

'I carena for Tibby-a glaiket young quean! Her gaits wi' the fallows we a' ken long syne! The heart o' my laddie I never can tyne!

He promis'd to marry me down on yon lea

O no! I need na be wary !

Yes! yes he means for to marry!

Wi' mony sweet kisses he ca'd me his deary,
And swore he wad tak me afore Beltan day.'

'O Kate! Kate! he'll deceive ye!

(The de'il take the chiel! he does naithing but grieve me!)

He's fu' o' deceit !—gin ye like to believe me, The fause loon last night tald the same tale to me.'

'Dear Jean! but ye're unco camstary!

Ye'll ne'er let a bodie trou ever they'll marry! Ye've now gi'en me something that's no light to carry,

"Twill lie at my heart till the day that I die! She gaed awa sighing! she gaed away wae; Her mither flet sair for her byding away! She sat down to spin!-ne'er a word could she say, But drew out a thread wi' the tear in her ee.

'O yes!-it's time to be wary!

Jamie's a sad ane!-he ne'er means to marry!— He may rise in the morning, and wait till he's wearie !

He's no see my face for a year and a day!'

She raise wi' the lavroc, she milked her cow;
Sat down by her leglin and 'gan for to rue :-
Young Jamie cam by-her heart lap to her mou!
And she trou'd ilka word that the fause loon did
say!

-Hech! sirs! how lasses will vary!

Sometimes they're doubtfu'-'tis then they are

wary;

But when luve comes louping, they ay think we'll

marry,

And trust, like poor Kate, to what fause loons will say.