Thou art a queen, fair Lesley, Thy subjects we, before thee; The hearts o' men adore thee. The deil he couldna scaith thee, And say, 'I canna wrang thee!' The powers aboon will tent thee; That ill they'll ne'er let near thee. Return again, fair Lesley, Return to Caledonie! That we may brag, we hae a lass HIGHLAND MARY. 14TH NOVEMBEr, 1792. Ye banks, and braes, and streams around The castle o' Montgomery, Green be your woods, and fair your flowers, Your waters never drumlie! There simmer first unfauld her robes, And there the langest tarry; For there I took the last farewel How sweetly bloomed the gay green birk, How rich the hawthorn's blossom, As underneath their fragrant shade I clasped her to my bosom! The golden hours, on angel wings, Wi' many a vow, and locked embrace, But O, fell death's untimely frost, That nipt my flower sae early! Now green's the sod, and cauld's the clay, That wraps my Highland Mary! O pale, pale now, those rosy lips, And mouldering now in silent dust But still within my bosom's core Shall live my Highland Mary. WILLIAM LISLE BOWLES. 1762-1850. BOWLES made his appearance in the world of letters in 1789, by publishing a small collection of sonnets, most of which hinted of a disappointment in love. The object of his affections is said to have been a niece of Sir Samuel Romilly, whose rejection of his suit set him wandering about the Continent and writing poetry. He seems to have been quite unhappy, in a quiet way; but he finally consoled himself with a wife, for in 1797 he married Magdalene Wake, daughter of the Rev. Charles Wake, prebendary of Westminster. Bowles' sonnets were the delight and inspiration of Coleridge in his youth. "As my school finances," he says, "did not permit me to purchase copies, I made, within less than a year and a half, more than forty transcriptions." IN MEMORIAM. How blessed with thee the path could I have trod In youth and beauty to thy cold death-bed; Though sometimes the unbidden tear will start, The cold dew I shall wipe from my sad brow, |