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I whiles thought it scoff'd me to scorn,

Saying, Shame, is your conscience no checkit? But when I grew dry for a horn,

It changed aye to Tak it, man, tak it.
Hey for the mill, &c.

The smugglers whiles cam wi' their pocks,
Cause they kent that I liked a bicker;
Sae I bartered whiles wi' the gowks,
Gaed them grain for a soup o' their liquor.
I had lang been accustom'd to drink,
And aye when I purposed to quat it,
That thing wi' its clappertie clink
Said aye to me, Tak it, man, tak it.
Hey for the mill, &c.

But the warst thing I did in my life,

Nae doubt but ye 'll think I was wrang o Od! I tauld a bit bodie in Fife

A' my tale, and he made a bit sang o't; I have aye had a voice a' my days,

o't,

But for singing I ne'er got the knack o't;
Yet I tried whiles, just thinking to please
The greedy wi' Tak it, man, tak it.
Hey the mill, &c.

Now, miller and a' as I am,

This far I can see through the matter,
There's men mair notorious to fame,

Mair greedy than me or the muter;
For 'twad seem that the hale race o' men,
Or wi' safety the half we may mak it,
Had some speaking happer within,
That said to them, Tak it, man, tak it.
Hey for the mill, &c.

OH, SWEET WERE THE HOURS.

AIR-" Gregor Arora.”

OH, sweet were the hours
That I spent wi' my Flora,
In yon gay shady bowers,
Roun' the linn o' the Cora!

Her breath was the zephyrs
That waft frae the roses,
And skim o'er the heath

As the summer day closes.

I told her my love-tale,

Which seem'd to her cheering; Then she breathed on the soft gale Her song so endearing.

The rock echoes ringing

Seem'd charm'd wi' my story;
And the birds, sweetly singing,

Replied to my Flora.

The sweet zephyr her breath
As it wafts frae the roses,
And skims o'er the heath

As the summer day closes.

PATE BIRNIE.*

OUR minstrels a', frae south to north,
To Edin cam to try their worth,
And ane cam frae the banks o' Forth,
Whase name was Patie Birnie.

This Patie, wi' superior art,

Made notes to ring through head and heart,
Till citizens a' set apart

Their praise to Patie Birnie.

Tell auld Kinghorn, o' Picish birth,
Where, noddin', she looks o'er the Firth,
Aye when she would enhance her worth,
To sing o' Patie Birnie.

His merits mak Auld Reekie † ring,
Mak rustic poets o' him sing;
For nane can touch the fiddle-string
Sae weel as Patie Birnie.

He cheers the sage, the sour, the sad,
Maks youngsters a rin louping mad,
Heads grow giddy, hearts grow glad,
Enchanted wi' Pate Birnie.

The witching tones o' Patie's therm,
Mak farmer chiels forget their farm,
Sailors forget the howling storm,
When dancing to Pate Birnie.

* Pate Birnie was a celebrated fiddler or violinist who resided in Kinghorn, Fifeshire.

An old designation for the city of Edinburgh, often used by the Scottish poets.

Pate maks the fool forget his freaks, Maks baxter bodies burn their bakes, And gowkies gie their hame the glaiks, And follow Patie Birnie.

When Patie taks his strolling rounds,
To feasts or fairs in ither towns,
Wark bodies fling their trantlooms doun,
To hear the famous Birnie.

The crabbit carles forget to snarl,
The canker'd cuiffs forget to quarrel,

And gilphies forget the stock and horle,

And dance to Patie Birnie.

WILLIAM PARK.

His

WILLIAM PARK was not born in lawful wedlock. grandfather, Andrew Park, occupied for many years the farm of Efgill, in the parish of Westerkirk, and county of Dumfries. He had two sons, William and James, who were both men of superior intelligence, and both of them writers of verses. William, the poet's father, having for a brief period served as a midshipman, emigrated to the island of Grenada, where he first acted as the overseer of an estate, but was afterwards appointed to a situation in the Customs at St George's, and became the proprietor and editor of a newspaper, called the St George's Chronicle. In the year 1795, he was slain when bravely heading an encounter with a body of French insurgents. His son, the subject of this memoir, was born at Crooks, in the parish of Westerkirk, on the 22d of February 1788, and was brought up under the care of his grandfather. He received an ordinary training at the parochial school; and when his grandfather relinquished his farm to a higher bidder, he was necessitated to seek employment as a cow-herd. 1805, he proceeded as a farm-servant to the farm of Cassock, in the parish of Eskdalemuir. In 1809, he entered the service of the Rev. Dr Brown,* minister of

In

* William Brown, D.D., author of "Antiquities of the Jews." Lond., 1825, 2 vols. 8vo.

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