f them a way of
singing out their poetry in a loud sonorous key, which was very
impressive, but perfectly ludicrous. Wilson, at that period, composed
all his poetry by going over it in that sounding strain; and in our
daily competitions, although our rooms were not immediately adjoining, I
always overheard what progress he was making. When he came upon any
grand idea, he opened upon it full swell, with all the energy of a fine
fox-hound on a hot trail. If I heard many of these vehement aspirations,
they weakened my hands and discouraged my heart, and I often said to
myself, "Gude faith, it 's a' ower wi' me for this day!" When we went
over the poems together in the evening, I was always anxious to learn
what parts of the poem had excited the sublime breathings which I had
heard at a distance, but he never could tell me.--_Hogg._

THE FLOWERS OF SCOTLAND.

AIR--_"The Blue Bells of Scotland."_

What are the flowers of Scotland,
All others that excel--
The lovely flowers of Scotland,
All others that excel?
The thistle's purple bonnet,
And bonny heather-bell,
O, they 're the flowers of Scotland,
All others that excel!

Though England eyes her roses
With pride she 'll ne'er forego,
The rose has oft been trodden
By foot of haughty foe;
But the thistle in her bonnet blue,
Still nods outow'r the fell,
And dares the proudest foeman
To tread the heather-bell.

For the wee bit leaf o' Ireland,
Alack and well-a-day!
For ilka hand is free to pu'
An' steal the gem away.
But the thistle in her bonnet blue
Still bobs aboon them a';
At her the bravest darena blink,
Or gie his mou' a thraw.

Up wi' the flowers o' Scotland,
The emblems o' the free,
Their guardians for a thousand years,
Their guardians still we 'll be.
A foe had better brave the deil,
Within his reeky cell,
Than our thistle's purple bonnet,
Or bonny heather-bell.

LASS, AN' YE LO'E ME, TELL ME NOW.[59]

"Afore the muircock begin to craw,
Lass, an' ye lo'e me, tell me now,
The bonniest thing that ever ye saw,
For I canna come every night to woo."
"The gouden broom is bonny to see,
An' sae is the milk-white flower o' the haw,
The daisy's wee freenge is sweet on the lea,
But the bud of the rose is the bonniest of a'."

"Now, wae lig