club, became a diligent reader, a leader in every literary movement in the district, and a writer of poetry of some merit. A poem on the melancholy story of "Fair Helen of Kirkconnel," which he composed at this period, obtained a somewhat extensive popularity. To aid his finances, he became an itinerant seller of cloth,-a mode of life which gave him an opportunity of studying character, and visiting interesting scenery. The pressure of poverty afterwards induced him to enlist, as a recruit, in the Hopetoun Fencibles; and, in this humble position, he contrived to augment his scanty pay by composing acrostics and madrigals for the officers, who rewarded him with small gratuities. On the regiment being disbanded in 1799, he was entrusted by a merchant with the sale of goods, as a pedlar, in the west of England; but this employment ceased on his being robbed, while in a state of inebriety. Still descending in the social scale, he became an umbrella-maker in Manchester, while his wife was employed in some of the manufactories. Some other odd and irregular occupations were severally attempted without success, till at length, about his fiftieth year, he finally settled into the humble condition of a wandering poet. He composed verses on every variety of theme, and readily parted with his compositions for food or whisky. His field of wandering included the entire Lowlands, and he occasionally penetrated into Highland districts. In his wanderings he was accompanied by his wife, who, though a severe sufferer on his account, along with her family of five or six children, continued most devoted in her attachment to him. On her death, which took place in the Cowgate, Edinburgh, early in 1817, he became almost distracted, and never recovered his former composure. He now roamed wildly through the country,

seldom remaining more than one night in the same place. He finally returned to Dumfriesshire, his native county; and accidentally falling into the Nith, caught an inflammatory fever, of which he died, in the village of Ruthwell, on the 22d September 1818. Lewis was

slender, and of low stature. His countenance was sharp, and his eye intelligent, though frenzied with excitement. He always expressed himself in the language of enthusiasm, despised prudence and common sense, and commended the impulsive and fanciful. He published, in 1816, a small volume, entitled "The African Slave; with other Poems and Songs." Some of his lyrics are not unworthy of a place in the national minstrelsy.

LANARK MILLS.

AIR-" Miss Forbes' Farewell to Banff."

ADIEU! romantic banks of Clyde,
Where oft I've spent the joyful day;
Now, weary wand'ring on thy side,
I pour the plaintive, joyless lay.
To other lands I'm doom'd to rove,

The thought with grief my bosom fills;
Why am I forced to leave my love,
And wander far from Lanark Mills?

Can I forget th' ecstatic hours,

When ('scaped the village evening din) I met my lass 'midst Braxfield bowers,

Or near the falls of Corhouse Linn!
While close I clasp'd her to my breast,
(Th' idea still with rapture thrills!)
I thought myself completely blest,
By all the lads of Lanark Mills.

Deceitful, dear, delusive dream,

Thou 'rt fled-alas! I know not where, And vanish'd is each blissful gleam, And left behind a load of care. Adieu! dear winding banks of Clyde, A long farewell, ye rising hills; No more I'll wander on your side,

Though still my heart's at Lanark Mills.

While Tintock stands the pride of hills,

While Clyde's dark stream rolls to the sea,
So long, my dear-loved Lanark Mills,

May Heaven's best blessings smile on thee.
A last adieu! my Mary dear,

The briny tear my eye distils;
While reason's powers continue clear,
I'll think of thee, and Lanark Mills.

O'ER THE MUIR.*

AE morn of May, when fields were gay,
Serene and charming was the weather,
I chanced to roam some miles frae home,
Far o'er yon muir, amang the heather.
O'er the muir amang the heather,
O'er the muir amang the heather,
How healthsome 'tis to range the muirs,
And brush the dew from vernal heather.

I walk'd along, and humm'd a song,
My heart was light as ony feather,
And soon did pass a lovely lass,

Was wading barefoot through the heather.

* The more popular words to the same tune and chorus, beginning, "Comin' through the Craigs o' Kyle," are believed, on the authority of Burns, to have been the composition of Jean Glover, a girl of respectable parentage, born at Kilmarnock in 1758, who became attached to a company of strolling players. Lewis is said to have claimed priority for his verses, and the point is not likely ever to be decided. This much may be said in favour of Lewis's claims, that he had long been the writer of respectable lyrics; while Jean Glover, though well skilled as a musician, is not otherwise known to have composed verses. One of the songs is evidently an echo of the other.

O'er the muir amang the heather,
O'er the muir amang the heather;
The bonniest lass that e'er I saw
I met ae morn amang the heather.

Her eyes divine, mair bright did shine,
Than the most clear unclouded ether;
A fairer form did ne'er adorn

A brighter scene than blooming heather.
O'er the muir amang the heather,
O'er the muir amang the heather;
There's ne'er a lass in Scotia's isle,
Can vie with her amang the heather.

I said, “Dear maid, be not afraid;
Pray sit you down, let's talk together;
For, oh! my fair, I vow and swear,

You've stole my heart amang the heather."
O'er the muir amang the heather,

O'er the muir amang the heather;
Ye swains, beware of yonder muir,
You'll lose your hearts amang the heather.

She answer'd me, right modestly,
"I go, kind sir, to seek my father,
Whose fleecy charge he tends at large,
On yon green hills beyond the heather."
O'er the muir amang the heather,
O'er the muir amang the heather;
Were I a king, thou shou'dst be mine,
Dear blooming maid, amang the heather.