Again but I saw him, my ain only treasure,

My smilin' saft hazel-eed Jamie, sae fair, How happy our meeting!-O bliss beyond measure,

To wander wi' a' that I liket ance mair,

Where wafts the fair Tweed, her silvery billow,
And echo the grey rocks the howlet's lone wail,
Or down by yon banks where the brier and the
willow

Sigh o'er the blue wave as impressed by the gale.

Bare now though the ance shady forest and bracken, Their mantles o' emerald sweet Spring shall renew; The wee birdies sing, fresh joys to awaken,

And blue-bells and gowans the meadows bestrew.

But would it were sae with the bosom o'sadness—
Still hope ever hail !—why should it repine?
Dark though the night lowers, the morning o' glad-

ness

How aft hae we seen it unlooket for shine?

While safe has the bark been far tossed on the ocean, Though lang by affection despondin'ly mourned; Frae fields o' red carnage and mortal commotion, Unskathed has the absent in triumph returned.

And sae may my Jamie, the heart wha lies nearest, O shield him, kind Heaven-how wordless his charms

O lead him and speed him to Nancy, his dearest,

In safety and rapture again to her arms.

APPENDIX.

Our Visit to the West of Scotland,

Page 77.

RESPECTING this excursion, I regretted much not having taken notes of the different scenery and various incidents on our pilgrimage. It was, I remember, fully a twelvemonth after I returned before I polluted paper with a description of our travels; the whole. Poem, therefore, from the first to the last line, was necessarily written from recollection. Owing to this circumstance, I must humbly beg the reader's forbearance and indulgence in reference to any descriptive errors, and, indeed, for the whole piece throughout, as it was both very hurriedly and carelessly fabricated. I naturally chose this light racy-pacy sort of measure, as it is, in my opinion, better adapted to the subject than any other; although, at the same time, it is a measure I never liked.