Rab wheel't about, to Kate cam' back, 'Bout marriage, an' the care o't. MARY'S TWA LOVERS. TUNE-"Bessie Bell and Mary Gray." DEAR Aunty, I've been lang your care, Wi' your advice assist me: There's sonsy James, wha wears a wig, He's clever, decent, sober too, But he's no worth ae fardin'. Auld James, 'tis true, I downa see, And buskit be wi' braw things. And fix as ye Then aunt, wha spun, laid down her roke, Unequal matches in a yoke Draw thrawart and camstrarie. Since gentle James ye dinna like, Wi's gear ha'e nae connexion; THE FORLORN SHEPHERD.* TUNE-"Banks of the Dee." YE swains wha are touch'd wi' saft sympathy's feelin', Like you I was blest with content, an' was cheerie,— * This song is here printed for the first time. She promised, she vow'd, she wad be my half-marrow, The day too was set, when our bridal should be; How happy was I, but I tell you wi' sorrow, She's perjured hersel', ah! an' ruined me. For Ned o' Shawneuk, wi' the charms o' his riches, An' sly winnin' tales, tauld sae pawky an' slee, Her han' has obtain'd, an' clad her like a duchess, Sae baith skaith an' scorn ha'e come down upon me. Ye braes ance enchantin', o' you I'm now wearie, JOHN ROBERTSON. JOHN ROBERTSON, author of "The Toom Meal Pock," a humorous song which has long been popular in the west of Scotland, was the son of an extensive grocer in Paisley, where he was born about the year 1770. He received the most ample education which his native town could afford, and early cultivated a taste for the elegant arts of music and drawing. Destined for one of the liberal professions, the unfortunate bankruptcy of his father put an effectual check on his original aspirations. For a period he was engaged as a salesman, till habits of insobriety rendered his services unavailable to his employer. As a last resort, he enlisted in the regiment of local militia; and his qualifications becoming known to the officers, he was employed as a regimental clerk and schoolmaster. He had written spirited verses in his youth; and though his muse had become mournful, she continued to sing. His end was melancholy: the unfortunate circumstances of his life preyed upon his mind, and in a paroxysm of phrensy he committed suicide. He died in the vicinity of Portsmouth, in the beginning of April 1810, about six weeks before the similar death of his friend, Robert Tannahill. A person of much ingenuity and scholarship, Robertson, with ordinary steadiness, would have attained a good position in life. THE TOOM MEAL POCK. PRESERVE us a'! what shall we do, For ilka chiel maun mourn wi' me, When lasses braw gaed out at e'en, How happy pass'd my former days, A gaucie, weel-fill'd pock. And sing, Oh waes me! |