a tragic muse." And again in 1842:--"She is marvelous in health and
spirit; not a bit deaf, blind, or torpid." About this time she published
her last book, a volume of 'Fugitive Verses.'

"A sweeter picture of old age was never seen," wrote Harriet Martineau.
"Her figure was small, light, and active; her countenance, in its
expression of serenity, harmonized wonderfully with her gay conversation
and her cheerful voice. Her eyes were beautiful, dark, bright, and
penetrating, with the full innocent gaze of childhood. Her face was
altogether comely, and her dress did justice to it. She wore her own
silvery hair and a mob cap, with its delicate lace border fitting close
around her face. She was well dressed, in handsome dark silks, and her
lace caps and collars looked always new. No Quaker was ever neater,
while she kept up with the times in her dress as in her habit of mind,
as far as became her years. In her whole appearance there was always
something for even the passing stranger to admire, and never anything
for the most familiar friend to wish otherwise." She died, "without
suffering, in the full possession of her faculties," in her ninetieth
year, 1851.

Her dramatic and poetical works are collected in one volume (1843). Her
Life, with selections from her songs, may be found in 'The Songstress of
Scotland,' by Sarah Tytler and J.L. Watson (1871).

WOO'D AND MARRIED AND A'

The bride she is winsome and bonny,
Her hair it is snooded sae sleek,
And faithfu' and kind is her Johnny,
Yet fast fa' the tears on her cheek.
New pearlins are cause of her sorrow,
New pearlins and plenishing too:
The bride that has a' to borrow.
Has e'en right mickle ado.
Woo'd and married and a'!
Woo'd and married and a'!
Isna she very weel aff
To be woo'd and married at a'?

Her mither then hastily spak:--
"The lassie is glaikit wi' pride;
In my pouch I had never a plack
On the day when I was a bride.
E'en tak' to your wheel and be clever,
And draw out your thread in the sun;
The gear that is gifted, it never
Will last like the gear that is won.
Woo'd and married and a'!
Wi' havins and tocher sae sma'!
I think ye are very weel aff
To be woo'd and married at a'!"

"Toot, toot!" quo' her gray-headed faither,
"She's less o' a bride than a bairn