ALEXANDER BALD.

ALEXANDER BALD was born at Alloa, on the 9th June 1783. His father, who bore the same Christian name, was a native of Culross, where he was originally employed in superintending the coal works in that vicinity, under the late Earl of Dundonald. He subsequently became agent for the collieries of John Francis Erskine, aftewards Earl of Mar. A book of arithmetical tables and calculations from his pen, entitled, "The Corn-dealer's Assistant," was long recognised as an almost indispensable guide for tenant farmers.

The subject of this notice was early devoted to literary pursuits. Along with his friend, Mr John Grieve, the future patron of the Ettrick Shepherd, he made a visit to the forest bard, attracted by the merit of his compositions, long prior to his public recognition as a poet. He established a literary association in his native town, entitled, "The Shakspeare Club;" which, at its annual celebrations, was graced by the presence of men of genius and learning. To the Scots' Magazine he became a poetical contributor early in the century. A man of elegant tastes and Christian worth, Mr Bald was a cherished associate of the more distinguished literary Scotsmen of the past generation. During the period of half a century, he conducted business in his native town as a timber merchant and brick manufacturer. Mr Bald died at Alloa, on the 21st October 1859. His brother, Mr Robert Bald, was highly distinguished as a mining engineer.

THE LILY OF THE VALE.* TUNE-"Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon."

THE lily of the vale is sweet,

And sweeter still the op'ning rose,

But sweeter far my Mary is

Than any blooming flower that blows.
Whilst spring her fragrant blossoms spreads,
I'll wander oft by Mary's side;
And whisper saft the tender tale,

By Forth, sweet Forth's meandering tide.
There will we walk at early dawn,

Ere yet the sun begins to shine;
At eve oft, too, the lawn we'll tread,
And mark that splendid orb's decline.
The fairest, choicest flowers I'll crop,
To deck my lovely Mary's hair;
And while I live, I vow and swear,

She'll be my chief-my only care.

This song was originally published in the Scots' Magazine for October 1806. In the "Book of Scottish Song," it has been attributed to Allan Ramsay.

HOW SWEET ARE THE BLUSHES OF
MORN.

How sweet are the blushes of morn,
And sweet is the gay blossom'd grove;
The linnet chants sweet from the thorn,
But sweeter's the smile of my love.

Awhile, my dear Mary, farewell,

Since fate has decreed we should part; Thine image shall still with me dwell; Though absent, you'll reign in my heart.

But by winding Devon's green bowers,
At eve's dewy hour as I rove,
I'll grieve for the pride of her flowers,
And the pride of her maidens, my love.

The music shall cease in the grove,

Thine absence the linnet shall mourn; But the lark, in strains bearing love, Soft warbling, shall greet thy return.

GEORGE WILSON,

GEORGE WILSON was born on the 20th June 1784, in the parish of Libberton, and county of Lanark. Deprived of both his parents early in life, he was brought to the house of his paternal uncle, who rented a sheep-farm in the vicinity of Peebles. At the burgh school of that place he received an ordinary education, and in his thirteenth year hired himself as a cow-herd. Passing through the various stages of rural em

ployment at Tweedside, he resolved to adopt a trade, and in his eighteenth year became apprenticed to his maternal uncle, a cabinetmaker in Edinburgh. On fulfilling his indenture, he accepted employment as a journeyman cabinetmaker; he subsequently conducted business on his own account. He published "The Laverock," a volume of poems and songs, in 1829. He died at 5 Newington Place, Edinburgh on the 9th November 1857. The following lyrics from his pen evince no inconsiderable vigour, and seem worthy of preservation.

Let the hills our swords have shielded,
Ring to every hero's praise;

And the tribes who never yielded,
Their immortal trophies raise.

Heroes brave, be ever ready,

At your king and country's call;
When your dauntless chiefs shall lead you,
Let the foe that dares you fall.

Let the harp to strains resounding,

Ring to cheer the dauntless brave; Let the brave like roes come bounding On to glory or a grave.

Let your laurels never-fading,

Gleam like your unconquer'd glaive; Where your thistle springs triumphant, There let freedom's banner wave.

JOHN YOUNGER,

JOHN YOUNGER, author of a Prize Essay on the Sabbath, has some claim to enrolment among the minstrels of his country. He was born on the 5th July 1785, at Longnewton village, in the parish of Ancrum, and county of Roxburgh. As early as his ninth year, he began to work at his father's trade of a shoemaker. In 1810 he married, and commenced shoemaking in the village of St Boswell's, in his native county. He became village postmaster, and added to his emoluments by dressing hooks for anglers in the Tweed.

A man of superior intellect and varied information, John Younger enjoyed the respect of a wide circle of friends. His cottage was long the resort of anglers of every rank; and among his correspondents he enumerated many noted literary characters. He published a poetical brochure with the title, "Thoughts as they Rise;" also a "Treatise on River Angling." His Prize Essay on the Sabbath, entitled, "The Light of the Week," was published in 1849, and commanded a wide circulation. He died on the 19th July 1860.

ILKA BLADE O' GRASS GETS ITS AIN
DRAP O' DEW.

Он, dinna be sae sair cast down,
My ain sweet bairnies dear,
Whatever storms in life may blaw,
Take nae sic heart o' fear.

Though life's been aye a checker'd scene
Since Eve's first apple grew,

Nae blade o' grass has been forgot
O' its ain drap o' dew.

The bonnie flowers o' Paradise,

And a' that's bloom'd sinsyne,

By bank an' brae an' lover's bower,
Adown the course o' time,

Or 'neath the gardener's fostering hand
Their annual bloom renew,
Ilk blade o' grass has had as weel
Its ain sweet drap o' dew.

The great may loll in world's wealth
And a' the pomp o' state,
While labour, bent wi' eident cares,
Maun toil baith air and late.
The poor may gae to bed distrest,
With nae relief in view,
And rising, like ilk blade o' grass,
Shine wi' the pearl o' dew.

Oh, what a gentle hand is His

That cleeds the lilies fair,
And o' the meanest thing in life

Takes mair than mother's care!
Can ye no put your trust in Him,
With heart resign'd and true,
Wha ne'er forgets to gie the grass,
Ilk blade its drap o' dew.

THE MONTH OF JUNE.

O JUNE, ye spring the loveliest flowers
That a' our seasons yield;

Ye deck sae flush the greenwood bowers.
The garden, and the field;

The pathway verge by hedge and tree,
So fresh, so green, and gay,
Where every lovely blue flower's ee
Is opening to the day.

The river banks and craggy peaks
In wilding blossoms drest,
With ivy o'er their jutting nooks
Ye screen the ouzel's nest;
From precipice, abrupt and bold,
Your tendrils flaunt in air,

With craw-flowers dangling living gold
Ye tuft the steep brown scaur.

Your foliage shades the wild bird's nest

From every prying ee,

With fairy fingers ye invest

In woven flowers the lea;

Around the lover's blissful hour

Ye draw your leafy screen,

And shade those in your rosy bower,
Who love to muse unseen.

JOHN BURTT.

JOHN BURTT was born about the year 1790, at Knockmarloch, in the parish of Riccarton, and county of Ayr. With a limited school education, he was apprenticed to a weaver in Kilmarnock; but at the loom he much improved himself in general scholarship, especially in classical learning. In his sixteenth year he was decoyed into a ship of war at Greenock, and compelled to serve on board. Effecting his escape, after an arduous servitude of five years, he resumed the loom at Kilmarnock. He subsequently taught an adventure school, first in Kilmarnock, and afterwards at Paisley. The irksome labours of sea-faring life he had sought to relieve by the composition of verses; and these in 1816 he published, under the title of " Horæ Poeticæ; or, the Recreations of a Leisure Hour." In 1817 he emigrated to the United States, where his career has been prosperous. Having studied theology at Princeton College, New Jersey, he became a licentiate of the Presbyterian Church, and was appointed to a ministerial charge at Salem. In 1831 he removed to Philadelphia, where he edited a periodical entitled the Presbyterian. Admitted in 1833 to a Presbyterian Church in Cincinnati, he there edited the Standard, a religious newspaper. In August 1835 he was promoted to a chair in the Theological Seminary of that place.