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Sandy rase-his bonnet daddit-
Begged a kiss-gat nine or ten;
Then the hay, sae ruffed an' saddit,
Towzlet up that nane might ken.

You ha'e seen, on April mornin',
Light o' heart, the pretty lamb
Skippin', dancin', bondage scornin',
Wander heedless o' its dam?

Sometimes gaun, an' sometimes rinnin',

Sandy to his mountains ran;
Roun' aboon his flocks gaed singin',
Never was a blyther man ;

Never did his native nation,
Sun or sky, wear sic a hue ;
In his een the hale creation
Wore a face entirely new.

Weel he lo'ed his faithfu' Ruffler,
Weel the bird sang on the tree;
Meanest creatures doomed to suffer,
Brought the tear into his ee.

Sandy's heart was undesignin',
Soft and lovin' as the dove;
Scarcely cou'd it bear refinin'
By the gentle fire o' love.

You ha'e seen the cunnin' fowler
Wile the airy bird to death;
Blossoms nipt by breezes fouler,
Or by winter's wastin' breath?

Sally's blossom soon was blighted
By untimely winter prest;
Sally had been woed an' slighted
By a farmer in the west.

Sandy daily lo'ed her dearer,

Kendna she afore was won, Aince, whan he gaed down to see her, Sally had a dainty son!

Sternies, blush an' hide your faces;
Veil the moon in sable hue;
Else thy locks, for human vices,
Soon will dreep wi' pity's dew!

Thou who rules the rolling thunder,
Thou who darts the flying flame,
Wilt thou vengeance ay keep under
Due for injured love an' fame ?

Cease, my charmer, cease bewailin', Down thy cheeks the pearls do shine; Cease to mourn thy sex's failin',

I maun drop a tear for mine:

Man, the lord o' the creation,

Lighten'd wi' a

ray divine, Lost to feelin', truth, an' caution, Lags the brutal tribes behind!

You ha'e seen the harmless conie Following hame its mate to rest; One ensnared, the frighted cronie Fled amazed wi' pantin' breast.

Petrified, an' dumb wi' horror,

Sandy fled, he kendna where, Never heart than his was sorer, It was mair than he cou'd bear!

Seven days on yonder mountain
Lay he sobbin', late an' soon,
Till discovered by a fountain,
Railin' at the dowy moon.

Weepin' a' the day, he'd wander Through yon dismal glen alane; By the stream at night wad dander, Ravin' owr his Sally's name

Shun'd an' pitied by the world,
Long a humblin' sight was he,
Till that fatal moment hurled

Him to lang eternity.

Sittin' on yon cliff sae rocky,

Fearless as the boding crowNo, my dear, I winna shock ye Wi' the bloody scene below.

By yon aek, decayed an' rottin', Where the hardy woodbin' twines, Now, in peace, he sleeps forgotten; Owr his head these simple lines:

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"Lovers, pause, while I implore ye
Still to walk in virtue's road;
An' to say, when ye gang o'er ine,
Lack-a-day, for Sandy Tod!"

FAREWELL TO ETTRICK.

FAREWEEL, my Ettrick! fare-ye-weel!
I own I'm unco laith to leave ye;
Nane kens the half o' what I feel,
Nor half the cause I ha'e to grieve me!

There first I saw the rising morn;
The first my infant mind unfurl'd,
To judge that spot where I was born
The very centre o' the world!

I thought the hills were sharp as knives,
An' the braed lift lay whomel'd on them,
An' glowr'd wi' wonder at the wives
That spak o' ither hills ayon' them.

When ilka year ga'e something new,
Addition to my mind or stature,
As fast my love for Ettrick grew,
Implanted in my very nature.

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