I,
The warld's drumlie gloom to cheer;
But gie to me my Julia dear,
Ye powers wha rowe this yirthen ba',
An' oh, sae blithe through life I 'll steer,
Amang the hills o' Gallowa'.

When gloamin' daunders up the hill,
An' our gudeman ca's hame the yowes,
Wi' her I 'll trace the mossy rill
That through the muir meand'ring rowes;
Or tint amang the scroggie knowes,
My birken pipe I 'll sweetly blaw,
An' sing the streams, the straths, and howes,
The hills an' dales o' Gallowa'.

An' when auld Scotland's heathy hills,
Her rural nymphs an' jovial swains,
Her flowery wilds an' wimpling rills,
Awake nae mair my canty strains;
Where friendship dwells an' freedom reigns,
Where heather blooms an' muircocks craw,
Oh, dig my grave, and lay my banes
Amang the hills o' Gallowa'.

[107] Like many other Scottish songs composed early in the century, and
which at the time of publication were unacknowledged by their authors,
the "Hills o' Gallowa'" came to be attributed to Burns. It is included
among his songs in Orphoot's edition of his poetical works, which was
published at Edinburgh in 1820. In the "Harp of Caledonia," the editor,
Mr Struthers, assigns it to the Ettrick Shepherd. Along with those which
follow, the song appeared in the "Forest Minstrel." The heroine was
Julia Curtis, a maiden in Galloway, to whom Cunningham was early
attached. She is also celebrated by the poet in the "Braes of Ballahun,"
and her early demise is lamented in the tender stanzas of "Julia's
Grave." The latter composition first appeared in the _Scots Magazine_
for 1807, p. 448.

THE BRAES OF BALLAHUN.[108]

TUNE--_"Roslin Castle."_

Now smiling summer's balmy breeze,
Soft whispering, fans the leafy trees;
The linnet greets the rosy morn,
Sweet in yon fragrant flowery thorn;
The bee hums round the woodbine bower,
Collecting sweets from every flower;
And pure the crystal streamlets run
Among the braes of Ballahun.

Oh, blissful days, for ever fled,
When wand'ring wild, as fancy led,
I ranged the bushy bosom'd glen,
The scroggie shaw, the rugged linn,
And mark'd each blooming hawthorn bush,
Where nestling sat the speckled thrush;
Or, careless roaming, wander'd on
Among the braes of Ballahun.

Why starts the tear, why bursts the sigh,
When hills and dales