THE BIRKS OF ABERFELDY. 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. Bonny lassie, will ye go, will ye go? Bonny lassie, will ye go To the birks of Aberfeldy ? The little birdies blithely sing, While o'er their heads the hazels hing; Or lightly flit on wanton wing In the birks of Aberfeldy. The braes ascend like lofty wa's, 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. Let fortune's gifts at random flee, They ne'er shall draw a wish frae me, In the birks of Aberfeldy. The old song of the Birks of Abergeldie was well known, and still merits notice. song The of Burns was conceived while he stood beside the Falls of Aberfeldy, in Perthshire, during his highland tour. He seldom adhered so closely to the spirit of the old words which he sought to imitate. His own original fancy, and happy turn of thought, carried him away from the paths of others. FAREWELL, THOU FAIR DAY. Farewell, thou fair day, thou green earth, and ye skies, Now gay with the bright setting sun; Farewell, loves and friendships, ye dear tender ties! Our race of existence is run. Thou grim king of terrors, thou life's gloomy foe, Go, teach them to tremble, fell tyrant! but know, Thou strik'st the dull peasant, he sinks in the dark, Thou strik'st the young hero-a glorious mark! In the field of proud honour, our swords in our hands, While Victory shines on life's last ebbing sands, Burns wrote this heroic song at the first out-burst of the French revolutionary war, and so well was he satisfied with what he had done, that he was desirous of having it set to music, and printed separately. The poet imagines a field of battle, the sun setting, the victory won, and the victorious and the wounded and the dying, chanting the song of death. The song, noble and heartrousing as it is, has some lines of common sentiment and cumbrous expression. SAIR I RUE THE WITLESS WISH. O sair I rue the witless wish That gar'd me gang wi' you at e'en, And sair I rue the birken bush That screen'd us with its leaves sae green. And tho' ye vow'd ye wad be mine, The tear o' grief ay dims my e'e, For, O! I'm fear'd that I may tyne While ithers seek their e'ening sports, When a' my nights were spent wi' glee; Dear lassie, keep thy heart aboon, To be a bridal gift for thee. And mountain-high shall stand the sea, Ere I'd accept a gowden crown To change that love I bear for thee. Ease and gentleness, rather than vehemence and vigour, characterise the songs of Tannahill. The sorrow of the lady in this song is moderate, and the rapture of the lover discreet. They would make a prudent and frugal pair. AFTON WATER. Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes, Thou stock-dove whose echo resounds thro' the glen, How lofty, sweet Afton, thy neighbouring hills! How pleasant thy banks and green valleys below, |