THE HUMBLE PETITION OF BRUAR WATER.

How saucy Phoebus' scorching beams,
In flaming summer pride,
Dry-withering, waste my foamy streams,
And drink my crystal tide.

The lightly-jumping glow'rin' trouts,
That thro' my waters play,
If, in their random, wanton spouts,
They near the margin stray;
If, hapless chance! they linger lang,
I'm scorching up so shallow,
They're left the whitening stanes amang,
In gasping death to wallow.

Last day I grat wi' spite and teen,
As Poet Burns came by,

That to a bard I should be seen
Wi' half my channel dry:
A panegyric rhyme, I ween,
Ev'n as I was he shored me;
But had I in my glory been,

He, kneeling, wad adored me.

Here, foaming down the shelvy rocks,
In twisting strength I rin;

There, high my boiling torrent smokes,
Wild-roaring o'er a linn:

Enjoying large each spring and well
As nature gave them me,

I am, altho' I say't mysel',

Worth gaun a mile to see.

Wad then my noble master please

To grant my highest wishes,

He'll shade my banks wi' tow'ring trees,
And bonnie spreading bushes;

THE HUMBLE PETITION OF BRUAR WATER.

Delighted doubly then, my Lord,
You'll wander on my banks,
And listen mony a grateful bird
Return you tuneful thanks.

The sober laverock, warbling wild,

Shall to the skies aspire;

The gowdspink, Music's gayest child,

Shall sweetly join the choir :
The blackbird strong, the lintwhite clear,
The mavis mild and mellow;

The robin, pensive autumn cheer,
In all her locks of yellow.

This, too, a covert shall ensure,

To shield them from the storm;
And coward maukin sleep secure,
Low in her grassy form :
Here shall the shepherd make his seat,
To weave his crown o' flowers;
Or find a sheltering safe retreat,
From prone descending show'rs.

And here, by sweet endearing stealth,
Shall meet the loving pair,

Despising worlds with all their wealth.
As empty idle care;

The flowers shall vie in all their charms
The hour of heaven to grace,

And birks extend their fragrant arms
To screen the dear embrace.

Here haply too, at vernal dawn,

Some musing bard may stray,
And eye the smoking, dewy lawn,
And misty mountain grey;

THE HUMBLE PETITION OF BRUAR WATER.

Or, by the reaper's nightly beam,
Mild-chequering thro' the trees,
Rave to my darkly-dashing stream,
Hoarse swelling on the breeze.

Let lofty firs, and ashes cool,

My lowly banks o'erspread,
And view, deep-bending in the pool,

Their shadows' wat'ry bed!

Let fragrant birks, in woodbines drest,
My craggy cliff adorn;

And, for the little songster's nest,
The close embow'ring thorn.

So may old Scotia's darling hope,
Your little angel band,

Spring, like their fathers, up to prop
Their honour'd native land!

So may, thro' Albion's farthest ken,
To social flowing glasses,

The grace be-" "Athole's honest men,
And Athole's bonnie lasses!"

ON Richmond Hill there lives a lass More bright than May-day morn, Whose charms all other maids surpassA rose without a thorn.

This lass so neat, with smiles so sweet,
Has won my right good-will;

I'd crowns resign to call her mine,
Sweet lass of Richmond Hill.

THE LASS OF RICHMOND HILL.

Ye zephyrs gay, that fan the air,
And wanton through the grove,
Oh! whisper to my charming fair,
I die for her I love.

How happy will the shepherd be Who calls this nymph his own! Oh ! her choice be fix'd on me ; may Mine's fix'd on her alone.