He wales a portion with judicious care; And Let us worship GOD!" he says, with solemn air. They chant their artless notes in simple guise; They tune their hearts, by far the noblest aim.' &c. And proffer up to Heaven the warm request For them and for their little ones provide; But chiefly, in their hearts, with grace divine preside.' III. 174–181. The charm of the fine lines written on turning up a mouse's nest with the plough, will also be found to consist in the simple tenderness of the delineation. 6 Thy wee bit housie, too, in ruin! An' bleak December's winds ensuin, Baith snell and keen! Thou saw the fields laid bare an' waste, An' weary winter comin fast, An' cozie here beneath the blast, Thou thought to dwell, 'Till crash! the cruel coulter past Out thro' thy cell. • That wee bit heap o' leaves an' stibble, To thole the winter's sleety dribble, An' cranreuch cauld!' III. p. 147. The verses to a Mountain Daisy, though more elegant and picturesque, seem to derive their chief beauty from the same senti In humble guise; But now the share uptears thy bed, And low thou lies!' III. p. 201, 202. There are many touches of the same kind in most of the popular and beautiful poems in this collection, especially in the Winter Night-the address to his old Mare-the address to the Devil, &c.;-in all which, though the greater part of the piece be merely ludicrous and picturesque, there are traits of a delicate and tender feeling, indicating that unaffected softness of heart which is always so enchanting. In the humorous address to the Devil, which we have just mentioned, every Scottish reader must have felt the effect of this relenting nature in the following stanzas. Lang syne, in Eden's bonie yard, When youthfu' lovers first were pair'd, The raptur'd hour, Sweet on the fragrant, flow'ry swaird, In shady bow'r : Then you, ye auld, snic-drawing dog! An' gied the infant warld a shog, 'Maist ruin'd a'. But, fare you weel, auld Nickie-ben! Still hae a stake I'm wae to think upo' yon den, Ev'n for your sake!' III. p. 74, 76. The finest examples, however, of this simple and unpretending tenderness, is to be found in those songs which are likely to transmit the name of Burns to all future generations. He found this this delightful trait in the old Scotish ballads which he took for his model, and upon which he has improved with a felicity and delicacy of imitation altogether unrivalled in the history of literature. Sometimes it is the brief and simple pathos of the genuine old ballad; as, But I look to the West when I lie down to rest, That happy my dreams and my slumbers may be ; For far in the West lives he I love best, The lad that is dear to my baby and me.' Or, as in this other specimen • Drumossie moor, Drumossie day, My father, dear, and brethren three. That ever blest a woman's e'e! A bluidy man I trow thou be; For mony a heart thou hast made sair, That ne'er did wrong to thine or thee.' IV. P. 337. Sometimes it is animated with airy narrative, and adorned with images of the utmost elegance and beauty. As a specimen taken at random, we insert the following stanzas. • And ay she wrought her mammie's wark, The blythest bird upon the bush Had ne'er a lighter heart than she. • Young Robie was the brawest lad, The flower and pride of a' the glen; He gaed wi' Jeanie to the tryste, And lang ere witless Jeanie wist, Her heart was tint, her peace was stown, As in the bosom o' the stream The moon-beam dwells at dewy e'en ; So trembling, pure, was infant love Within the breast o' bonnie Jean. IV. 80. Sometimes Sometimes, again, it is plaintive and mournful,-in the same strain of unaffected simplicity. O stay, sweet warbling wood-lark, stay, A hapless lover courts thy lay, Thy soothing fond complaining. Again, again that tender part, Say, was thy little mate unkind, Ye flowery banks o' bonie Doon, How can ye blume sae fair; And I sae fu' o' care! IV. 226, 227. • Thou'll break my heart, thou bonie bird Thou minds me o' the happy days When my fause luve was true. Thou'll break my heart, thou bonie bird That sings beside thy mate; For sae I sat, and sae I sang, And wist na o' my fate. Aft hae I rov'd by bonie Doon, To see the woodbine twine, Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose Frae aff its thorny tree, And my fause luver staw the rose, But left the thorn wi' me.' V. P. 17, 18. Sometimes the rich imagery of the poet's fancy almost overcomes the leading sentiment. The merry ploughboy cheers his team, Wi' joy the tentie seedsman stalks, VOL. XIII. NO. 26. But But life to me's a weary dream, The sheep-herd steeks his faulding slap, And when the lark, 'tween light and dark, A woe-worn ghaist I hameward glide. III. 284, 285., The sensibility which is thus associated with simple imagery and gentle melancholy, is to us the most winning and attractive. But Burns has also expressed it when it is merely the instrument of torture of keen remorse and tender agonizing regret. There are some strong traits of the former feeling, in the poems entitled the Lament, Despondency, &c., when, looking back to the times • When love's luxurious pulse beat high,' he bewails the consequences of his own irregularities. There is something cumbrous and inflated, however, in the diction of these pieces. We are infinitely more moved with his Elegy upon Highland Mary. Of this first love of the poet, we are indebted to Mr Cromek for a brief, but very striking account, from the pen of the poet himself. In a note on an early song inscribed to this mistress, he had recorded in a manuscript book My Highland lassie was a warm-hearted, charming young creature as ever blessed a man with generous love. After a pretty long tract of the most ardent reciprocal attachment, we met, by appointment, on the second Sunday of May, in a sequestered spot by the Banks of Ayr, where we spent the day in taking a farewel, before she should embark for the West-Highlands, to arrange matters among her friends for our projected change of life. At the close of Autumn following, she crossed the sea to meet me at Greenock ; where she had scarce landed when she was seized with a malignant fever, which hurried my dear girl to the grave in a few days,-before I could even hear of her illness. V. 237-8. -Mr Cromek, has added, in a note, the following interesting particulars; though without specifying the authority upon which he details them. This adieu was performed with all those simple and striking ceremonials which rustic sentiment has devised to prolong tender emotions and to inspire awe. The lovers stood on each side of a small purling brook; they laved their hands in its limpid stream, and, holding |