Then be advised, and warning take I'm neither pope nor cardinal, Nor one of high degree; You'll meet displeasure everywhere- Then do as I have done, E'en tune your pipe, and please yourselves With John of Badenyon. ["An excellent song."-BURNS.] THE MAID THAT TENDS THE GOATS. ROBERT DUDGEON. Up amang yon cliffy rocks Sweetly rings the rising echo, To the maid that tends the goats, Lilting o'er her native notes. Hark! she sings, Young Sandy's kind, Till he's fairly married to me: Drive away ye drone Time, Sandy herds a flock o' sheep, He's as fleet's the mountain roe, Brawly he can dance and sing By the langest-winded sangster. Sangs that sing o' Sandy Come short, though they were e'er sae lang. [Burns in his Border Tour met with the author of this original song, and in his journal made the following memorandum; "A Mr. Dudgeon, a poet at times, a worthy remarkable character-natural penetration, a great deal of information, some genius, and extreme modesty." Dudgeon was a farmer near Dunse in Berwickshire.] BESS THE GAWKIE. REV. MR. MOREHEAD. Blithe young Bess to Jean did say, Will ye gang to yon sunny brae, Where flocks do feed, and herds do stray, And sport a while wi' Jamie? Ah, na lass! I'll no gang there, For he's ta'en up wi' Maggie. Out owre the muir to Maggie : For when a civil kiss I seek, ; She turns her head and thraws her cheek, But sure my Maggie has mair sense, O Jamie, ye hae monie ta'en, So ne'er think me a gawkie. Sic thoughts as thae are far frae me, E'er to think thee a gawkie. But, whist, nae mair o' this we'll speak, For yonder Jamie does us meet; Instead o' Meg he kiss'd sae sweet, I trow he likes the gawkie. O dear Bess, I hardly knew, It's wat wi dew, and 'twill get rain, I ne'er could meet iny dawtie. The lasses fast frae him they flew, As they gade owre the muir they sang, ["A beautiful song in the genuine Scot's taste. We have few pastoral compositions, I mean the pastoral of nature, that are equal to this."-BURNS. The author of this favourite song was unknown to Burns. Mr. Cunningham in his songs of Scotland gives good reasons for ascribing it to Mr. Morehead, a minister in Galloway. Printed by Herd in 1769.] THE BRAES OF BALLENDINE, DR. BLACKLOCK. Born 1721-Died 1791. Beneath a green shade a lovely young swain So sad, yet so sweetly he warbled his woe, The winds ceas'd to breathe, and the fountain to flow; How happy (he cried) my moments once flew, Through changes, in vain, relief I pursue, But see the pale moon, all clouded, retires, |