t of examining at certain intervals the MSS. of
prose and poetry, which at a former period he had accumulated. On those
occasions he uniformly destroyed some which he deemed unworthy of
further preservation. During one of these purgations, he hastily
committed to the flames a poem on which he had bestowed much labour, and
which contained a humorous description of scenes and characters familiar
to him in youth. The poem was entitled "Braken Fell;" and his ingenious
brother Allan, in a memoir of the author, has referred to its
destruction in terms of regret.[105] The style of Thomas Cunningham
seems, however, to have been lyrical, and it may be presumed that his
songs afford the best evidence of his power. In private life he was much
cherished by a circle of friends, and his society was gay and animated.
He was rather above the middle height, and latterly was corpulent. He
married in 1804, and has left a family.

[105] See _Scottish Monthly Magazine_, August 1836.

ADOWN THE BURNIE'S FLOWERY BANK.[106]

Adown the burnie's flowery bank,
Or through the shady grove,
Or 'mang the bonnie scroggie braes,
Come, Peggy, let us rove.
See where the stream out ower the linn
Deep headlong foamin' pours,
There let us gang and stray amang
The bloomin' hawthorn bowers.

We 'll pu' the rose frae aff the brier,
The lily frae the brae;
We 'll hear the birdies blithely sing,
As up the glen we gae.
His yellow haughs o' wavin' grain
The farmer likes to see,
But my ain Peggy's artless smile
Is far mair dear to me.

[106] Written when the author was quite a youth.

THE HILLS O' GALLOWA'.[107]

TUNE--_"The Lea Rig."_

Amang the birks sae blithe an' gay,
I met my Julia hameward gaun;
The linties chantit on the spray,
The lammies loupit on the lawn;
On ilka swaird the hay was mawn,
The braes wi' gowans buskit bra',
An' ev'ning's plaid o' gray was thrawn
Out ower the hills o' Gallowa'.

Wi' music wild the woodlands rang,
An' fragrance wing'd alang the lea,
As down we sat the flowers amang,
Upon the banks o' stately Dee.
My Julia's arms encircled me,
An' saftly slade the hours awa',
Till dawning coost a glimm'rin' e'e
Upon the hills o' Gallowa'.

It isna owsen, sheep, an' kye,
It isna gowd, it isna gear,
This lifted e'e wad hae, quo'