rare
In blended beauty lie.
The rose is fair at break of day,
And sweet the blushing thorn,
But sweeter, fairer far than they,
The smile of Menie Lorn.

O tell me not of olive groves,
Where gold and gems abound;
Of deep blue eyes and maiden loves,
With every virtue crown'd.
I ask no other ray of joy
Life's desert to adorn,
Than that sweet bliss, which ne'er can cloy--
The love of Menie Lorn.

THE YOUNG SOLDIER.

AIR--_"The Banks of the Devon."_

O say not o' war the young soldier is weary,
Ye wha in battle ha'e witness'd his flame;
Remember his daring when danger was near ye,
Forgive ye the sigh that he heaves for his hame.
Past perils he heeds not, nor dangers yet coming,
Frae dark-brooding terror his young heart is free;
But it pants for the place whar in youth he was roaming;
He turns to the north wi' the tear in his e'e.

'Tis remembrance that saftens what war never daunted,
'Tis the hame o' his birth that gives birth to the tear;
The warm fondled hopes his first love had implanted,
He langs now to reap in his Jeanie sae dear.
An' aften he thinks on the bonnie clear burnie,
Whar oft in love's fondness they daff'd their young day;
Nae tear then was shedded, for short was the journey
'Tween Jeanie's broom bower and the blaeberry brae.

An' weel does he mind o' that morning, when dressing,
In green Highland garb, to cross the wide sea;
His auld mither grat when she gi'ed him her blessing--
'Twas a' that the puir body then had to gi'e.
The black downy plume on his bonnie cheek babbit,
As he stood at the door an' shook hands wi' them a';
But sair was his heart, an' sair Jeanie sabbit,
Whan down the burn-side she convoy'd him awa'.

Now high-headed Alps an' dark seas divide them,
Wilds ne'er imagined in love's early dream;
Their Alps then the knowes, whare the lambs lay beside them,
Their seas then the hazel an' saugh-shaded stream.
An' wha couldna sigh when memory 's revealing
The scenes that surrounded our life's early hame?
The hero whose heart is cauld to that feeling
His nature is harsh, and not worthy the name.

THE LAND I LOVE.

The land I lo'e, the land I lo'e,
Is the land of the plaid and bonnet blue,
Of the gallant heart, the firm and true,