O blessed fountain, give her back
The brightness of her brow!
O blessed water, bid her cheeks
Like summer roses glow!
'Tis a small gift, thou blessed well,

To a thing divine as thee;
But kingdoms to a mother's heart,
Fu' dear is Ann to me.

THOU HAST SWORN BY THY GOD, MY JEANIE.

ALLAN CUNNINGHAM. From "Cromek's Remains."

THOU hast sworn by thy God, my Jeanie,
By that pretty white hand o'thine,
And by a' the lowing stars in heaven,
That thou wad aye be mine;

And I hae sworn by my God, my Jeanie,
And by that kind heart o' thine,

By a' the stars sown thick ower heaven,
"That thou wad aye be mine.

Then foul fa' the hands that loose sic bands,
And the heart that wad part sie love;
But there's nae hand can loose my band
But the finger o' God above.

Though the wee, wee cot maun be my bield,
And my claithing e'er sae mean,

I wad lap me up rich i' the faulds o' luve,
Heaven's armfu' o' my Jean.

Her white arm wad be a pillow for me,

Fu' safter than the down,

And Luve wad winnow ower us his kind, kind wings,

And sweetly I'll sleep, an' soun'.

Come here to me, thou lass o' my luve,

Come here and kneel wi' me;

The morn is fu' o' the presence o' God,
And I canna pray but thee.

The morn-wind is sweet 'mang the beds o' new flowers, The wee birds sing kindlie an' hie;

Our gudeman leans owre his kale-yard dyke,

And a blythe auld bodie is he.

The Beuk maun be taen whan the carle comes hame

Wi' the holie psalmodie,

And thou maun speak o' me to thy God,
And I will speak o' thee.

UFON a simmer afternoon,

A wee before the sun gaed down,

My lassie, in a braw new gown,
Cam' o'er the hills to Gowrie.

The rose-bud, tinged with morning show'r,
Blooms fresh within the sunny bow'r;

But Katie was the fairest flower

That ever bloom'd in Gowrie.

Nae thought had I to do her wrang,
But round her waist my arms I flang,
And said, "My dearie, will ye gang
To see the Carse o' Gowrie ?

I'll tak ye to my father's ha',
In yon green fields beside the shaw;
I'll mak you lady o' them a',

The brawest wife in Gowrie."

"A silken gown o' siller gray

My mither coft last new-year's day,
And buskit me fra tap to tae,

To keep me out o' Gowrie.

Daft Will short syne cam' courting Nell,
And wan the lass; but what befel,
Or whare she's gane, she kens hersel',
She stay'd na lang in Gowrie."

"Sic thoughts, dear Katie, ill combine
Wi' beauty rare and wit like thine;
Except yoursel', my bonnie quean,
I care for nought in Gowrie,
Since first I saw you in the sheal,
To you my heart's been true and leal;
The darkest night I fear nae de'il,
Warlock, or witch, in Gowrie."

Saft kisses on her lips I laid,

The blush upon her cheeks soon spread,
She whisper'd modestly, and said,

"O Pate, I'll stay in Gowrie !"
The auld folks soon ga'e their consent,
Syne for Mess John they quickly sent,
Wha ty'd them to their hearts' content,
And now she's Lady Gowrie.

Founded upon an older ballad, by William Reid of Glasgow, entitled
Gowrie."

"Kate o'

KELVIN GROVE.

From the "Harp of Renfrewshire," 1820.

LET us haste to Kelvin grove, bonnie lassie O;
Through its mazes let us rove, bonnie lassie O,
Where the rose in all her pride

Paints the hollow dingle's side,

Where the midnight fairies glide, bonnie lassie O.

Let us wander by the mill, bonnie lassie O;
To the cove beside the rill, bonnie lassie 0,
Where the glens rebound the call

Of the roaring waters' fall,

Through the mountain's rocky hall, bonnie lassie O.

Oh, Kelvin banks are fair, bonnie lassie O,
When in simmer we are there, bonnie lassie O;
There the May-pink's crimson plume

Throws a soft but sweet perfume

Round the yellow banks of broom, bonnie lassie O.

Though I dare not call thee mine, bonnie lassie O,
As the smile of fortune's thine, bonnie lassie O;
Yet with fortune on my side,

I could stay thy father's pride,

And win thee for my bride, bonnie lassie O.

But the frowns of fortune lower, bonnie lassie O,
On thy lover at this hour, bonnie lassie O;
Ere yon golden orb of day

Wake the warblers on the spray,

From this land I must away, bonnie lassie O.

Then farewell to Kelvin grove, bonnie lassie O,
And adieu to all I love, bonnie lassie O;
To the river winding clear,

To the fragrant-scented brier,

Even to thee, of all most dear, bonnie lassie O.

When upon a foreign shore, bonnie lassie O,
Should I fall midst battle's roar, bonnie lassie 0,
Then, Helen, shouldst thou hear

Of thy lover on his bier,

To his memory shed a tear, bonnie lassie O.

The author of this celebrated song is Thomas Lyle, surgeon in Glasgow. The music was arranged by R. A. Smith, composer of "Jessie, the flower o' Dumblane,” from the old Scottish melody, "Bonnie lassie O."

Kelvin Grove is situated about two miles west from Glasgow, but bids fair to be included within the bounds of that rapidly increasing city.

BEHAVE YOURSEL' BEFORE FOLK.

ALEXANDER RODGER, born 1784, died 1846. Air-"Good morrow to your nightcap."

BEHAVE yoursel' before folk;
Behave yoursel' before folk;
And dinna be sae rude to me,
As kiss me sae before folk.

It wadna gi'e me meikle pain,
Gin we were seen and heard by nane,
To tak' a kiss, or grant you ane;
But, guidsake! no before folk.
Behave yoursel' before folk,
Behave yoursel' before folk;
Whate'er ye do when out o' view,
Be cautious aye before folk.

Consider, lad, how folks will crack,
And what a great affair they'll mak’
O' naething but a simple smack
That's gi'en or ta'en before folk.
Behave yoursel' before folk,
Behave yoursel❜ before folk;
Nor gi'e the tongue o' auld or young
Occasion to come o'er folk.

It's no through hatred o' a kiss
That I sae plainly tell you this;
But, losh! I tak' it sair amiss
To be sae teased before folk.
Behave yoursel' before folk,
Behave yoursel' before folk;
When we're our lane, you may tak' ane.
But fient a ane before folk.