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The beauty of Chloris has added many charms to Scottish song; but that which has increased the reputation of the poet has lessened the fame of the man. Chloris was one of those ladies who believed in the dispensing power of beauty, and thought that love should be under no demure restraint, and own no law but that of nature. Burns sometimes thought in the same way himself; and it is not wonderful therefore that the poet should celebrate the charms of a liberal lady who was willing to reward his strains, and who gave him many nocturnal opportunities of catching inspiration from her presence.

O WHA IS SHE THAT LO'ES ME.

O wha is she that lo'es me,
And has my heart a-keeping?

O sweet is she that lo'es me,
As dews o' simmer weeping,
In tears the rose-buds steeping.
O that's the lassie o' my heart,
No lassie ever dearer ;

O that's the queen o' womankind,

And ne'er a ane to peer

her.

If thou shalt meet a lassie,

In grace and beauty charming,
That e'en thy chosen lassie,

Ere while thy breast sae warming,
Had ne'er sic powers alarming;
O that's the lassie o' my heart,
No lassie ever dearer ;

O that's the queen o' womankind,
And ne'er a ane to peer her.

If thou hadst heard her talking,
And thy attentions plighted,
That ilka body talking,

But her, by thee is slighted,
And thou art all delighted:

O that's the lassie o' my heart,
No lassie ever dearer;

O that's the queen o' womankind,
And ne'er a ane to peer her.

If thou hast met this fair one;

If

When frae her thou hast parted,

every other fair one,

But her, thou hast deserted,

And thou art broken-hearted ;

O that's the lassie o' my heart,

No lassie ever dearer;

O that's the queen o' womankind,

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This song was found among the manuscripts of Burns -the air of "Morag," to which it is sung, the poet was passionately fond of. The chorus is an encumbrance, as all choruses are; but here I cannot dispense with it, for the continuation of the sense requires its presence. The chorus, in lyric composition, is capable of great diversity. The story and the sentiment of the song might be infused into it.

THE YOUNG HIGHLAND ROVER.

Loud blaw the frosty breezes,

The snaws the mountains cover;
Like winter on me seizes,

Since my young Highland Rover
Far wanders nations over.
Where'er he go, where'er he stray,
May Heaven be his warden;
Return him safe to fair Strathspey,
And bonnie Castle-Gordon !

The trees now naked groaning,

Shall soon wi' leaves be hinging,

The birdies dowie moaning,

Shall a' be blithly singing,

And every flower be springing.
Sae I'll rejoice the lee-lang day,
When by his mighty warden
My youth's return'd to fair Strathspey,
And bonnie Castle-Gordon.

"The Young Highland Rover” is imagined to have been Prince Charles Stuart. Burns was inoculated with Jacobitism during his northern tour, and his Muse in one of her retrospective fits conceived the present song. The Stuarts have all gone down in sorrow to the grave; and over their unhappy dust the delicate benevolence of George the Fourth has placed a noble monu

ment.

LOUIS, WHAT RECK I BY THEE?

Louis, what reck I by thee,

Or Geordie on his ocean?
Dyvor, beggar louns to me,
I reign in Jeanie's bosom.

Let her crown my love her law,
And in her breast enthrone me :
Kings and nations, swith awa!
Reif randies I disown ye!

"Louis, what reck I by thee?" is one of the shortest and happiest of all the lyrics of Burns. It is an early composition: the King of France was on his tottering throne, Geordie was reigning on his ocean, and Jean was in the bloom of youth, when the poet owned her love for his law, took her bosom for his throne, and did homage. Geordie still reigns on his ocean, and none of the four winds of heaven can waft an enemy against him who can brave him for a moment.

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