.--The chorus in particular is truly pathetic. I
never could learn anything of its author.

CHORUS.

"Sae merry as we twa ha'e been,
Sae merry as we twa ha'e been;
My heart is like for to break,
When I think on the days we ha'e seen."

* * * * *

THE BANKS OF FORTH.

This air is Oswald's.

* * * * *

THE BUSH ABOON TRAQUAIR.

This is another beautiful song of Mr. Crawfurd's composition. In the
neighbourhood of Traquair, tradition still shows the old "Bush;"
which, when I saw it, in the year 1787, was composed of eight or nine
ragged birches. The Earl of Traquair has planted a clump of trees near
by, which he calls "The New Bush."

* * * * *

CROMLET'S LILT.

The following interesting account of this plaintive dirge was
communicated to Mr. Riddel by Alexander Fraser Tytler, Esq., of
Woodhouselee.

"In the latter end of the sixteenth century, the Chisolms were
proprietors of the estate of Cromlecks (now possessed by the
Drummonds). The eldest son of that family was very much attached to a
daughter of Sterling of Ardoch, commonly known by the name of Fair
Helen of Ardoch.

"At that time the opportunities of meeting betwixt the sexes were more
rare, consequently more sought after than now; and the Scottish
ladies, far from priding themselves on extensive literature, were
thought sufficiently book-learned if they could make out the
Scriptures in their mother-tongue. Writing was entirely out of the
line of female education. At that period the most of our young men of
family sought a fortune, or found a grave, in France. Cromlus, when he
went abroad to the war, was obliged to leave the management of his
correspondence with his mistress to a lay-brother of the monastery of
Dumblain, in the immediate neighbourhood of Cromleck, and near Ardoch.
This man, unfortunately, was deeply sensible of Helen's charms. He
artfully prepossessed her with stories to the disadvantage of Cromlus;
and, by misinterpreting or keeping up the letters and messages
intrusted to his care, he entirely irritated both. All connexion was
broken off betwixt them; Helen was inconsolable, and Cromlus has left
behind him, in the ballad called 'Cromlet's Lilt,' a proof of the
elegance of his genius, as well as the steadiness of his love.

"When the artful monk thought time had sufficiently softened Helen's
sorrow, he propose