BONNIE LASSIE, WILL YE GO.

Tune-" The Birks of Aberfeldy."

CHORUS.

Bonnie lassie, will ye go,

Will ye go, will ye go;
Bonnie lassie, will ye go
To the birks of Aberfeldy?

I.

Now simmer blinks on flowery braes,
And o'er the crystal streamlet plays;
Come let us spend the lightsome days
In the birks of Aberfeldy.

II.

The little birdies blithely sing,

While o'er their heads the hazels hing,

Or lightly flit on wanton wing

In the birks of Aberfeldy.

III.

The braes ascend, like lofty wa's,

The foamy stream deep-roaring fa's,
O'erhung wi' fragrant spreading shaws,
The birks of Aberfeldy.

IV.

The hoary cliffs are crown'd wi' flowers,
White o'er the linns the burnie pours,
And rising, weets wi' misty showers
The birks of Aberfeldy.

V.

Let fortune's gifts at random flee,
They ne'er shall draw a wish frae me,
Supremely blest wi' love and thee,
In the birks of Aberfeldy.

Bonnie lassie, will ye go,

Will ye go, will ye go;
Bonnie lassie, will ye go

To the birks of Aberfeldy?

Many of the songs of Burns had their origin in the snatches of verse and fragments of choruses current during his day in Scotland. "The Birks of Abergeldie" was the forerunner of this sweet song:

"Bonnie lassie, will ye go,

Will ye go, will ye go;
Bonnie lassie, will ye go

To the birks of Abergeldie?
Ye shall get a gown o' silk,

A gown o' silk, a gown o' silk;
Ye shall get a gown o' silk,

And coat o' calimanco.

"Na, kind sir, I dare na gang,

I dare na gang, I dare na gang;
Na, kind sir, I dare na gang-
My minnie she'll be angry.
Sair sair wad she flyte,

Wad she flyte, wad she flyte;

Sair sair wad she flyte,

And sair wad she ban me."

Burns says he wrote his song of "The Birks of Aberfeldy" while standing under the Falls of Aberfeldy, near Moness, in Perthshire, in September, 1787. He was on his way to Inverness. The air is very old and very sprightly; those who are curious in such matters will find it in Playford's "Dancing Master," where it is recorded as "A Scotch Ayre."

MACPHERSON'S FAREWELL.

Tune-"M'Pherson's Rant.”

I.

FAREWELL, ye dungeons dark and strong,

The wretch's destinie! Macpherson's time will not be long

On yonder gallows-tree.

Sae rantingly, sae wantonly,

Sae dauntingly gaed he;

He play'd a spring, and danc'd it round,
Below the gallows-tree.

II.

Oh, what is death but parting breath?

On many a bloody plain

I've dar'd his face, and in this place

I scorn him yet again!

III.

Untie these bands from off my hands,
And bring to me my sword;

And there's no a man in all Scotland,

But I'll brave him at a word.

IV.

I've liv'd a life of sturt and strife.

I die by treacherie :

It burns my heart I must depart,

And not avenged be.

V.

;

Now farewell light-thou sunshine bright,

And all beneath the sky!

May coward shame distain his name,

The wretch that dares not die!

Sae rantingly, sae wantonly,

Sae dauntingly gaed he;

He play'd a spring, and danc'd it round,
Below the gallows-tree.

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Inverness and Banff alike claim the honour of furnishing scene and subject for this very vehement and daring song. It owes little save the name to the ballad published in Herd, and not much to the traditional chant still remembered in the north.-" Macpherson's Lament," says Scott, was a well-known song many years before the Ayrshire Bard wrote these additional verses, which constitute its principal merit. This noted freebooter was executed at Inverness about the beginning of the last century. When he came to the fatal tree, he played the tune to which he has bequeathed his name, upon a favourite violin and holding up the instrument he offered it to any one of his clan who would under

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