Playing amang the green knolls o' Bonaly.

Pentland's high hills raise their heather-crown'd crest,
Peerless Edina expands her white breast,
Beauty and grandeur are blent in the scene,
Bonnie Bonaly lies smiling between;
Nature and Art, like fair twins, wander gaily;
Friendship and love dwell in bonnie Bonaly.

SAFT IS THE BLINK O' THINE E'E, LASSIE.

Oh, saft is the blink o' thine e'e, lassie,
Saft is the blink o' thine e'e;
An' a bonnie wee sun glimmers in its blue orb,
As kindly it glints upon me.

The ringlets that twine round thy brow, lassie,
Are gowden, as gowden may be;
Like the wee curly cluds that play round the sun,
When he 's just going to drap in the sea.

Thou hast a bonnie wee mou', lassie,
As sweet as a body may pree;
And fondly I 'll pree that wee hinny mou',
E'en though thou shouldst frown upon me.

Thou hast a lily-white hand, lassie,
As fair as a body may see;
An' saft is the touch o' that wee genty hand,
At e'en when thou partest wi' me.

Thy thoughts are sae haly and pure, lassie,
Thy heart is sae kind and sae free;
My bosom is flooded wi' sunshine an' joy,
Wi' ilka blithe blink o' thine e'e.

THE MAIR THAT YE WORK, AYE THE MAIR WILL YE WIN.

Be eident, be eident, fleet time rushes on,
Be eident, be eident, bricht day will be gone;
To stand idle by is a profitless sin:
The mair that ye work, aye the mair will ye win.

The earth gathers fragrance while nursing the flower,
The wave waxes stronger while feeding the shower,
The stream gains in speed as it sweeps o'er the linn:
The mair that ye work, aye the mair will ye win.

There 's nought got by idling, there 's nought got for nought,
Health, wealth, and contentment, by labour are bought;
In raising yoursel', ye may help up your kin:
The mair that ye work, aye the mair will ye win.

Let every man aim in his heart to excel,
Let every man ettle to fend for himsel';
Aye nourish ye stern independence within:
The mair that ye work, aye the mair will ye win.

THE WIDOW.

The widow is feckless, the widow 's alane,
Yet nae ane e'er hears the puir widow complain;
For, ah! there 's a Friend that the world wots na o',
Wha brightens her ken, and wha lightens her wo.

She looks a' around her, and what s