pale.
They woke: the angel bending there
Was--Florence Nightingale!

FOOTNOTES:

[4] She would speak to one and to another, and nod and smile to many
more, but she could not do it to all; but we could kiss her shadow as it
fell, and lay our heads on the pillow again, content.--_Soldier's Letter
from the Crimea._

[5] "Before she came there was cussin' and swearin', but after that it
was as holy as a church."--_Ibid._

JOSEPH MACGREGOR.

The writer of several good songs, which have been published with music,
Joseph Macgregor, followed the profession of an accountant in Edinburgh.
Expert as a man of business, he negotiated the arrangement of the city
affairs at the period of the municipal bankruptcy. A zealous member of
the Liberal party, he took a prominent interest in the Reform Bill
movement, and afterwards afforded valuable assistance in the election of
Francis Jeffrey as one of the representatives of the city in Parliament.
He latterly occupied Ramsay Lodge, the residence of the poet Allan
Ramsay, where he died about the year 1845, at a somewhat advanced age.
The following songs from his pen are published by the kind permission of
Messrs Robertson & Co., musicsellers, Edinburgh.

LADDIE, OH! LEAVE ME.

Down whar the burnie rins whimplin' and cheery,
When love's star was smilin', I met wi' my dearie;
Ah! vain was its smilin'--she wadna believe me,
But said wi' a saucy air, "Laddie, oh! leave me;
Leave me, leave me, laddie, oh! leave me."

"I 've lo'ed thee o'er truly to seek a new dearie,
I 've lo'ed thee o'er fondly, through life e'er to weary,
I 've lo'ed thee o'er lang, love, at last to deceive thee;
Look cauldly or kindly, but bid me not leave thee;"
Leave thee, leave thee, &c.

"There 's nae ither saft e'e that fills me wi' pleasure,
There 's nae ither rose-lip has half o' its treasure,
There 's nae ither bower, love, shall ever receive me,
Till death break this fond heart--oh! then I maun leave thee;"
Leave thee, leave thee, &c.

The tears o'er her cheeks ran like dew frae red roses;
What hope to the lover one tear-drop discloses!
I kiss'd them, and blest her--at last to relieve me
She yielded her hand, and sigh'd, "Oh! never leave me;"
Leave me, leave me, &c.

HOW BLYTHELY THE PIPE.

AIR--_"Kinloch of Kinloch."_