ow 's sair)
As he vow'd to come and see me
In the spring o' the year.

Aft, aft as gloamin' dims the sky,
I wander out alane,
Whare bud the bonnie yellow whins,
Around the trystin' stane;
'Twas there he press'd me to his heart,
And kiss'd awa' the tear,
As he vow'd to come and see me
In the spring o' the year.

Ye gentle breezes, saftly blaw,
And cleed anew the wuds;
Ye laverocks lilt your cheerie sangs,
Amang the fleecy cluds;
Till Feberwar and a' his train,
Affrighted disappear,
I 'll hail wi' you the blithesome change,
The spring-time o' the year.

[41] The first stanza of this song is the composition of Robert
Tannahill.

WILLIAM FINLAY.

William Finlay was the son of an operative shawl manufacturer in
Paisley, where he was born in 1792. He received a classical education at
the Grammar-school, and was afterwards apprenticed to his father's
trade. For a period of twenty years he prosecuted the labours of the
loom; but finding the occupation injurious to his health, he accepted
employment in the cotton mills of Duntocher. He afterwards obtained a
situation in a printing-office in Paisley, where he remained during
eight years. Ultimately, he was employed at Nethercraigs' bleachfield,
at the base of Gleniffer braes, about two miles to the south of Paisley.
He died of fever on the 5th November 1847, leaving a family of five
children.

Finlay was in the practice of contributing verses to the local prints.
In 1846, he published a duodecimo volume, entitled, "Poems, Humorous and
Sentimental." His poetical characteristics are simplicity and pathos,
combined with considerable power of satirical drollery. Delighting in
music, and fond of society, he was occasionally led to indulge in
excesses, of which, at other times, he was heartily ashamed, and which
he has feelingly lamented in some of his poems. Few Scottish poets have
more touchingly depicted the evils of intemperance.

THE BREAKING HEART.

I mark'd her look of agony,
I heard her broken sigh,
I saw the colour leave her cheek,
The lustre leave her eye;
I saw the radiant ray of hope
Her sadden'd soul forsaking;
And, by these tokens, well I knew
The maiden's heart was breaking.

It is not from the hand of Heaven
Her bitter grief proceeds;
'Tis not for sins that she hath done,
Her boso