g.]

I.

To thee, lov'd Nith, thy gladsome plains,
Where late wi' careless thought I rang'd,
Though prest wi' care and sunk in woe,
To thee I bring a heart unchang'd.

II.

I love thee, Nith, thy banks and braes,
Tho' mem'ry there my bosom tear;
For there he rov'd that brake my heart,
Yet to that heart, ah! still how dear!

* * * * *

CLXIX.

BANNOCKS O' BARLEY.

Tune--"_The Killogie._"

["This song is in the Museum," says Sir Harris Nicolas, "but without
Burns's name." Burns took up an old song, and letting some of the old
words stand, infused a Jacobite spirit into it, wrote it out, and sent
it to the Museum.]

I.

Bannocks o' bear meal,
Bannocks o' barley;
Here's to the Highlandman's
Bannocks o' barley.
Wha in a brulzie
Will first cry a parley?
Never the lads wi'
The bannocks o' barley.

II.

Bannocks o' bear meal,
Bannocks o' barley;
Here's to the lads wi'
The bannocks o' barley.
Wha in his wae-days
Were loyal to Charlie?
Wha but the lads wi'
The bannocks o' barley?

* * * * *

CLXX.

HEE BALOU.

Tune--"_The Highland Balou._"

["Published in the Musical Museum," says Sir Harris Nicolas, "but
without the name of the author." It is an old strain, eked out and
amended by Burns, and sent to the Museum in his own handwriting.]

I.

Hee balou! my sweet wee Donald,
Picture o' the great Clanronald;
Brawlie kens our wanton chief
Wha got my young Highland thief.

II.

Leeze me on thy bonnie craigie,
An' thou live, thou'll steal a naigie:
Travel the country thro' and thro',
And bring hame a Carlisle cow.

III.

Thro' the Lawlands, o'er the border,
Weel, my babie, may thou furder:
Herry the louns o' the laigh countree,
Syne to the Highlands hame to me.

* * * * *

CLXXI.

WAE IS MY HEART.

Tune--"_Wae is my heart._"

[Composed, it is said, at the request of Clarke, the musician, who
felt, or imagined he felt, some pangs of heart for one of the
loveliest young ladies in Nithsdale, Phillis M'Murdo.]

I.

Wae is my heart, and the tear's in my e'e;
Lang, lang, joy's been a stranger to me;
Forsaken and friendless, my burden I bear,
And the sweet voice of pity ne'er sounds