sweet secret moment wi' thee.

[82] The ruin of Crockston Castle is situated on the brow of a gentle
eminence, about three miles south-east of Paisley. The Castle, in the
twelfth century, was possessed by a Norman family, of the name of Croc;
it passed, in the following century, by the marriage of the heiress,
into a younger branch of the House of Stewart, who were afterwards
ennobled as Earls of Lennox. According to tradition, Queen Mary and Lord
Darnley occasionally resided in the castle; and it is reported that the
unfortunate princess witnessed from its walls the fall of her fortunes
at the battle of Langside. Crockston Castle is now the possession of Sir
John Maxwell, Bart., of Pollock.

THE BRAES O' BALQUHITHER.[83]

AIR--_"The Three Carls o' Buchanan."_

Let us go, lassie, go
To the braes o' Balquhither,
Where the blaeberries grow
'Mang the bonnie Highland heather;
Where the deer and the rae,
Lightly bounding together,
Sport the lang summer day
On the braes o' Balquhither.

I will twine thee a bower
By the clear siller fountain,
And I 'll cover it o'er
Wi' the flowers o' the mountain;
I will range through the wilds,
And the deep glens sae dreary,
And return wi' their spoils
To the bower o' my dearie.

When the rude wintry win'
Idly raves round our dwelling,
And the roar of the linn
On the night breeze is swelling;
So merrily we 'll sing,
As the storm rattles o'er us,
Till the dear sheiling ring
Wi' the light lilting chorus.

Now the summer is in prime,
Wi' the flow'rs richly blooming,
And the wild mountain thyme
A' the moorlands perfuming;
To our dear native scenes
Let us journey together,
Where glad innocence reigns,
'Mang the braes o' Balquhither.

[83] A clerical friend has communicated to us the following stanza,
which he heard sung by an old Highlander, as an addition to the "Braes
o' Balquhither:"--

"While the lads of the south
Toil for bare worldly treasure--
To the lads of the north
Every day brings its pleasure:
Oh, blithe are the joys
That the Highlandman possesses,
He feels no annoys,
For he fears no distresses."

GLOOMY WINTER 'S NOW AWA'.

AIR--_"Lord Balgonie's Favourite."_

Gloomy winter 's now awa'
Saft the westling breezes blaw,