I'LL NE'ER BEGUILE THEE.

My sweetest May, let love incline thee,
T'accept a heart which he designs thee;
And as your constant slave regard it,
Syne for its faithfulness reward it.
"Tis proof a-shot to birth or money,
But yields to what is sweet and bonny;
Receive it then with a kiss and a smily,
There's my thumb, it will ne'er beguile ye.

How tempting sweet these lips of thine are!
Thy bosom white, and legs sae fine are,
That, when in pools I see thee clean 'em,
They carry away my heart between 'em.
I wish, and I wish, while it gaes duntin,
O gin I had thee on a mountain!

Though kith and kin and a' shou'd revile thee,
There's my thumb, I'll ne'er beguile thee.

Alane through flow'ry hows I dander,
Tenting my flocks lest they shou'd wander;
Gin thou'll gae alang, I'll daute thee gaylie,
And gi'e my thumb I'll ne'er beguile thee.
O my dear lassie, it is but daffin,
To haud thy wooer up aye niff naffin.
That na, na, na, I hate it most vilely,
O say, yes, and I'll ne'er beguile thee.

This song is the composition of Allan Ramsay, but on perusing it the fancy is borne away to a far earlier period, and the name of the air suggests a lyric which may have made the heroes of Otterburn or Flodden smile. Indeed if Ramsay knew the old song, and composed his verses on the principle of purity which he states in his preface, there is an end to my lamentation; for if the old words exceeded his by a shade or so in indelicacy, it was wise in our ancestors to forget them. There is a curious remnant of ancient manners recorded in the song-presenting the thumb to be touched, as a pledge of perfect sincerity. It is known among rustics by the name of "lick thumb." At school all the little bargains which the boys make with each other are sealed by this mystic ceremony. Each wets his thumb with his tongue, then they join them together, then hook them into each other, and finally both ratify all in rhyme:

Ring thumbs, ring the bell

Them that rue first gang to hell.

In Johnson's Musical Museum may be found a song as old as Ramsay's, adapted to the same air, which seems a half English and half Scottish production. In the same work there is a song called "Sweetest May," written by Burns. Part is a parody on Allan's song, and what is not parodied is borrowed:

Sweetest May, let love inspire thee-
Take a heart which he designs thee:

As thy constant slave regard it;
For its faith and truth reward it.

Proof o' shot to birth or money ;—
Not the wealthy, but the bonnie,-
Not high born, but noble minded,
In love's silken band can bind it.

PEGGY AND PATIE.

When first my dear laddie gade to the green hill,
And I at ewe-milking first sey'd my young skill,
To bear the milk-bowie nae pain was to me,
When I at the bughting forgather'd with thee.

When corn-riggs wav'd yellow, and blue heather-bells
Bloom'd bonny on moorland and sweet-rising fells,
Nae birns, brier, or bracken gave trouble to me,
If I found but the berries right ripen'd for thee.

When thou ran, or wrestled, or putted the stane, 1992
And came aff the victor, my heart was aye fain
Thy ilka sport manly gave pleasure to me,
For nane can put, wrestle, or run swift as thee.

* ། ་**

, ի.

Our Jenny sings saftly the "Cowden Broom-knowes," And Rosie lilts sweetly the "Milking the Ewes ;"

There's few "Jenny Nettles" like Nancy can sing ; With "Thro' the wood, Laddie," Bess gars our lugs

ring:

But when my dear Peggy sings with better skill

The "Boat-man,” “ Tweedside," or the "Lass of the Mill,"

"Tis

many times sweeter and pleasing to me;

For though they sing nicely, they cannot like thee.

How easy can lasses trow what they desire,
With praises sae kindly increasing love's fire!
Give me still this pleasure, my study shall be
To make myself better and sweeter for thee.

The pastoral accuracy of this song is its chief commendation-the nature is the nature with which we are familiar, and all the imagery and allusions pertain to Scotland. This is a praise which we cannot extend to some far cleverer songs. Ramsay was born in a district which gave him an early acquaintance with the sharp birn and the blae heather-bell;-the ewe-bughts and the milking-pails were presented sooner to his eye than corn-riggs waving yellow. This is one of the songs in the "Gentle Shepherd."

THE BOB OF DUMBLANE.

Lassie, lend me your braw hemp heckle,
And I'll lend you my thripling kame;
For fainness, deary, I'll gar ye keckle,

If ye'll go dance the Bob of Dumblane.
Haste ye, gang to the ground of your trunkies,
Busk ye braw, and dinna think shame ;
Consider in time, if leading of monkies

Be better than dancing the Bob of Dumblane.

Be frank, my lassie, lest I grow fickle,
And take my word and offer again;
Syne ye may chance to repent it meikle,
Ye did na accept the Bob of Dumblane.
The dinner, the piper, and priest shall be ready,
And I'm grown dowie with lying my lane;
Away then, leave baith minny and daddy,

And try with me the Bob of Dumblane.

When Burns passed through Dumblane, he had the good fortune to find an old lady, at one of the principal inns, who had the courage to repeat some of the words of the old song, which the verses of Allan Ramsay superseded.