ALLAN RAMSAY. Air-"This is no my ain house."

THIS is no mine ain house,

I ken by the rigging o't;

Since with my love I've changed vows,
I dinna like the bigging o't.

For now that I'm young Robbie's bride,
And mistress of his fire-side,

Mine ain house I'll like to guide,

And please me with the rigging o't.

Then fareweel to my father's house,
I gang whare love invites me;
The strictest duty this allows,

When love with honour meets me.
When Hymen moulds us into ane,
My Robbie's nearer than my kin;
And to refuse him were a sin,

Sae lang's he kindly treats me.

When I'm in my ain house,

True love shall be at hand aye,
To make me still a prudent spouse,
And let my man command aye;
Avoiding ilka cause of strife,
The common pest of married life,
That maks ane wearied of his wife,

And breaks the kindly band aye.

THE HIGHLAND LADDIE.

ALLAN RAMSAY. From the "Tea-Table Miscellany."

THE Lawland lads think they are fine,
But, oh, they're vain and idly gaudy;
How much unlike the gracefu' mien
And manly looks of my Highland laddie!
O my bonnie Highland laddie,

My handsome, charming, Highland laddie;
May Heaven still guard, and love reward,
The Lawland lass and her Highland laddie!

If I were free at will to choose

To be the wealthiest Lawland lady,
I'd tak' young Donald without trews,
Wi' bonnet blue and belted plaidie.
O my bonnie, &c.

The brawest beau in burrows town,
In a' his airs wi' art made ready,
Compared to him he's but a clown,
He's finer far in's tartan plaidie.
O my bonnie, &c.

O'er benty hill wi' him I'll run,

And leave my Lawland kin and daddie;

Frae winter's cauld and summer's sun

He'll screen me wi' his Highland plaidie.
O my bonnie, &c.

A painted room and silken bed

May please a Lawland laird and lady;

But I can kiss and be as glad

Behind a bush in's Highland plaidie.
O my bonnie, &c.

Few compliments between us pass;
I ca' him my dear Highland laddie,
And he ca's me his Lawland lass,
Syne rows me in beneath his plaidie.
O my bonnie, &c.

Nae greater joy I'll e'er pretend

Than that his love prove true and steady, Like mine to him, which ne'er shall end

While Heaven preserves my Highland laddie. O my bonnie, &c.

OWER THE MUIR TO MAGGY.

ALLAN RAMSAY. From the "Tea-Table Miscellany."

I'LL Ower the muir to Maggy;

Her wit and sweetness call me,
There to my fair I'll shew my mind,
Whatever may befall me.

If she love mirth, I'll learn to sing;
Or likes the Nine to follow,
I'll lay my lugs in Pindus' spring,
And invocate Apollo.

If she admire a martial mind,
I'll sheath my limbs in armour;
If to the softer dance inclined,
With gayest airs I'll charm her;
If she love grandeur, day and night
I'll plot my nation's glory,
Find favour in my prince's sight,
And shine in future story.

Beauty can wonders work with ease,
Where wit is corresponding,
And bravest men know best to please
With complaisance abounding.

My bonny Maggy's love can turn
Me to what shape she pleases,

If in her breast that flame shall burn
Which in my bosom bleezes.

AN' THOU WERE MY AIN THING.

AN' thou were my ain thing,

I would lo❜e thee, I would lo'e thee; An thou were my ain thing,

How dearly would I lo'e thee!

I would clasp thee in my arms,
I'd secure thee from all harms;
For above mortal thou hast charms:
How dearly do I lo❜e theę!
An' thou were, &c.

Of race divine thou needs must be,
Since nothing earthly equals thee,
So I must still presumptuous be,
To shew how much I lo'e thee.
An' thou were, &c.

The gods one thing peculiar have,
To ruin none whom they can save ;
Oh, for their sake support a slave
Who only lives to lo'e thee.
An' thou were, &c.

To merit I no claim can make,
But that I lo'e; and for your sake
What man can more I'll undertake,
So dearly do I lo'e thee.
An' thou were, &c.

My passion, constant as the sun,
Flames stronger still, will ne'er have done
Till fates my thread of life have spun,
Which breathing out I'll lo'e thee.
An' thou were, &c.

Like bees that suck the morning dew
Frae flowers of sweetest scent and hue,

Sae wad I dwell upo' thy mou',

And gar the gods envy me.

An' thou were, &c.

Sae lang's I had the use of light,
I'd on thy beauties feast my sight,
Syne in saft whispers through the night
I'd tell how much I loo'd thee.
An' thou were, &c.

How fair and ruddy is my Jean,
She moves a goddess o'er the green!
Were I a king, thou should be queen,
Nane but mysel' aboon thee.
An' thou were, &c.

I'd grasp thee to this breast of mine,
Whilst thou, like ivy or the vine,
Around my stronger limbs should twine,
Form'd hardy to defend thee.
An' thou were, &c.

Time's on the wing, and will not stay;
In shining youth let's make our hay,
Since love admits of nae delay,

Oh, let nae scorn undo thee.
An' thou were, &c.

While love does at his altar stand,
Ha'e there's my heart, gi'e me thy hand,
And with ilk smile thou shalt command
The will of him wha loves thee.

This song appears in Allan Ramsay's "Tea-Table Miscellany," with the signature X., indicating that he did not know who the author was. The air is very beautiful, and is traced to as early a period as 1627, but is supposed to be much older. The last six stanzas were written by Allan Ramsay, and appended to the original song.

BARBARA ALLAN.

ANONYMOUS. From the "Tea-Table Miscellany."

Ir was in and about the Martinmas time,
When the green leaves were a-fallin',
That Sir John Graham, in the west countrie,
Fell in love wi' Barbara Allan.