THICKEST NIGHT, O'ERHANG MY DWELLING. Tune-" Strathallan's Lament.” I. THICKEST night, o'erhang my dwelling! II. Crystal streamlets gently flowing, III. In the cause of right engaged, But the heavens denied success. IV. Ruin's wheel has driven o'er us, The wide world is all before us- Το Viscount Strathallan, whom these verses commemorate, was James Drummond, who escaped with difficulty from the field of Culloden, where his father fell, and died abroad an exile.—“The air," says the Poet, "is the composition of one of the worthiest and best hearted men living-Allan Masterton, schoolmaster in Edinburgh. As he and I were both sprouts of jacobitism, we agreed to dedicate the words and air to that cause. tell the truth, except when my passions were heated by some accidental cause, my jacobitism was merely by way of vive la bagatelle." The Bard wrote these remarks for the eye of the Laird of Friars Carse, whose prejudices looked towards Hanover. Whenever he met with a resolute old jacobite, he did not forget that his ancestors had been Earl Marischall's men. MY HOGGIE. Tune-"What will I do gin my Hoggie die ?" WHAT Will I do gin my Hoggie die? My joy, my pride, my Hoggie! And vow but I was vogie! The lee-lang night we watch'd the fauld, We heard nought but the roaring linn, But the houlet cry'd frae the castle wa', The blitter frae the boggie, The tod reply'd upon the hill, I trembl'd for my Hoggie. When day did daw, and cocks did craw, The morning it was foggie An' unco tyke lap o'er the dyke, And maist has kill'd my Hoggie. When this song first became popular, the name of the author was not known, for it had appeared in the Museum anonymously. Even in the notes which he wrote on that work, Burns has refrained from claiming it—it is his, however, beyond all question; he communicated it to Johnson.-" Professor Walker," he says, "told me the following anecdote about this air. He said that some gentlemen riding a few years ago through Liddesdale, stopped at a hamlet, consisting of a few houses called Moss Platt, when they were struck with this tune, which an old woman spinning on a roke at her door was singing. All that she could tell concerning it was that she was taught it when a child, and it was called 'What will I do gin my Hoggie die ?' No person, except a few females at Moss Platt, knew this fine old tune, which in all probability would have been lost, had not one of the gentlemen, who happened to have a flute with him, taken it down." In this accidental way-sometimes remembered, sometimes forgotmany snatches of old valuable verse, and many exquisite airs, have been picked up and preserved. HER DADDIE FORBAD. Tune-" Jumpin' John." I. HER daddie forbad, her minnie forbad; She wadna trow't, the browst she brew'd The lang lad they ca' Jumpin' John The lang lad they ca' Jumpin' John II. A cow and a cauf, a yowe and a hauf. The lang lad they ca' Jumpin' John The lang lad they ca' Jumpin' John |