S there for honest poverty

That hangs his head and a' that?
The coward-slave, we pass him by;
We dare be puir for a' that.
For a' that and a' that,

Our toils obscure and a' that:
The rank is but the guinea's stamp,

The man's the gowd for a' that.

What though on hamely fare we dine,
Wear hoddin' grey and a' that;

Gi'e fools their silks an' knaves their wine,-
A man's a man for a' that.

For a' that and a' that,

Their tinsel show and a' that;

The honest man, though e'er sae poor,
Is king o' men for a' that.

E fond kiss, and then we sever;
Ae fareweel, alas, for ever!
Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.
Who shall say that Fortune grieves him
While the star of hope she leaves him?
Me nae cheerfu' twinkle lights me;
Dark despair around benights me.

I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy,--
Naething could resist my Nancy;
But to see her was to love her,
Love but her, and love for ever.
Had we never loved sae kindly,
Had we never loved sae blindly,
Never met-or never parted,

We had ne'er been broken-hearted.

26

ALTHOUGH THOU MAUN NEVER BE MINE.

Fare thee weel, thou first and fairest ;
Fare thee weel, thou best and dearest ;
Thine be ilka joy and treasure,
Peace, enjoyment, love, and pleasure.
Ae fond kiss, and then we sever;
Ae fareweel, alas, for ever!

Deep in heart-wrung tears I pledge thee,

Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.

Although thou maun never be mine.

ERE'S a health to ane I lo'e dear,

Here's a health to ane I lo'e dear;

Thou art sweet as the smile when fond lovers meet,

And soft as their parting tear-Jessy!

Although thou maun never be mine,

Although even hope is denied;

'Tis sweeter for thee despairing

Than aught in the world beside-Jessy!
Here's a health, &c.

I mourn through the gay, gaudy day,
As, hopeless, I muse on thy charms;
But welcome the dream o' sweet slumber,
For then I am lockt in thy arms-Jessy!
Here's a health, &c.

I guess by the dear angel smile,

I guess by the love-rolling ee;

But why urge the tender confession

'Gainst Fortune's fell cruel decree-Jessy!
Here's a health, &c.

Morning Landscape.

UT who the melodies of morn can tell?

The wild brook babbling down the mountain-side;

The lowing herd; the sheepfold's simple bell;

The pipe of early shepherd dim descried

In the lonely valley; echoing far and wide,