[The scene of this song is Laggan, in Nithsdale, a small estate which Nicol bought by the advice of the poet. It was composed in memory of the househeating. "We had such a joyous meeting," says Burns, "that Masterton and I agreed, each in our own way, to celebrate the business." The Willie who made the browst was, therefore, William Nicol; the Allan who composed the air, Allan Masterton; and he who wrote this choicest of convivial songs, Robert Burns.

["This song," says Sir Harris Nicolas, "is in the Museum, without Burns's name." It was composed by Burns on the battle of Killiecrankie, and sent in his own hand-writing to Johnson: he puts it into the mouth of a Whig.]

I.

FRAE the friends and land I love

Driv'n by fortune's felly spite,

Frae my best belov'd I rove,
Never mair to taste delight;
Never mair maun hope to find

Ease frae toil, relief frae care: When remembrance wracks the mind, Pleasures but unveil despair.

II.

Brightest climes shall mirk appear,

Desert ilka blooming shore, Till the Fates, nae mair severe,

Friendship, love, and peace restore : Till Revenge, wi' laurell'd head,

Bring our banish'd hame again; And ilka loyal bonnie lad

Cross the seas and win his ain.

XCV.

SWEET CLOSES THE EVENING.

Tune-"Craigie-burn-wood."

[This is one of several fine songs in honour of Jean Lorimer, of Kemmis-hall, Kirkmahoe, who for some time lived on the banks of Craigie-burn, near Moffat. It was composed in aid of the eloquence of a Mr. Gillespie, who was in love with her: but it did not prevail, for she married an officer of the name of Whelpdale, lived with him a month or so: reasons arose on both sides which rendered separation necessary; she then took up her residence in Dumfries, where she had many opportunities of seeing the poet. She lived till lately.]

CHORUS.

Beyond thee, dearie, beyond thee, dearie,
And O, to be lying beyond thee;
O sweetly, soundly, weel may he sleep
That's laid in the bed beyond thee!

I.

SWEET closes the evening on Craigie-burn-wood, And blithely awaukens the morrow;

But the pride of the spring in the Craigie-burnwood

Can yield to me nothing but sorrow.

II.

I see the spreading leaves and flowers,
I hear the wild birds singing;
But pleasure they hae nane for me,
While care my heart is wringing.

III.

I canna tell, I maunna tell,

I darena for your anger; But secret love will break my heart, If I conceal it langer.

IV.

I see thee gracefu', straight, and tall,
I see thee sweet and bonnie;
But oh! what will my torments be,
If thou refuse thy Johnnie!

V.

To see thee in anither's arms,
In love to lie and languish,
"Twad be my dead, that will be seen,
My heart wad burst wi' anguish.

VI.

But, Jeanie, say thou wilt be mine,
Say thou lo'es nane before me;
And a' my days o' life to come
I'll gratefully adore thee.

Beyond thee, dearie, beyond thee, dearie,
And O, to be lying beyond thee;
O sweetly, soundly, weel may he sleep
That's laid in the bed beyond thee!

XCVI.

COCK UP YOUR BEAVER. Tune-" Cock up your Beaver."

["Printed," says Sir Harris Nicolas, "in the Musical Museum, but not with Burns's name." It is an old song, eked out and amended by the poet: all the last verse, save the last line, is his; several of the lines too of the first verse have felt his amending hand: he communicated it to the Museum.]

I.

WHEN first my brave Johnnie lad

Came to this town,

He had a blue bonnet

That wanted the crown; But now he has gotten

A hat and a feather,Hey, brave Johnnie lad, Cock up your beaver!

II.

Cock up your beaver, And cock it fu' sprush, We'll over the border And gie them a brush;