In mony an instance, without doubt,
The man may copy frae the brute,
And by th' example grow much wiser;
Then read the short memoirs of Towser.

With deference to our great Lavaters, Wha judge o' mankind by their features, There's mony a smiling, pleasant-fac'd cock That wears a heart no worth a custock, While mony a visage, antic, droll, O'erveils a noble, gen'rous soul. With Towser this was just the case, He had an ill-faur'd, tawtie face, His make was something like a messin, But big, and quite unprepossessin'. His master coft him frae some fallows, Wha had him doom'd unto the gallows, Because (sae happ'd poor Towser's lot) He wadna tear a comrade's throat; Yet in affairs of love or honour He'd stand his part amang a hun'er, An' whare'er fighting was a merit, He never failed to shaw his spirit.

He never girn'd in neighbour's face,
Wi' wild ill-natur'd scant o' grace,
Nor e'er accosted ane wi' smiles,
Then, soon as turn'd, wad bite his heels;
Nor ever kent the courtier art,
To fawn wi' rancour at his heart,
Nor aught kent he o' cankert quarreling,
Nor snarlin' just for sake o' snarlin'.
Ye'd pinch him sair afore he'd growl,
Whilk shows he had a mighty soul.

But what adds maistly to his fame,
An' will immortalize his name-
"Immortalize!-presumptuous wight!
Thy lines are dull as darkest night,
Without ae spark o' wit or glee,
To licht them through futurity."
E'en be it sae; poor Towser's story,
Though lamely tauld, will speak his glory.

'Twas in the month o' cauld December,
When Nature's fire seem'd just an ember,
An' growlin' winter bellow'd forth
In storms and tempests frae the north-
When honest Towser's loving master,
Regardless o' the surly bluster,

Set out to the neist burrow town,
To buy some needments o' his own;
An' case some purse-pest should waylay him,
He took his trusty servant wi' him.

His business done, 'twas near the gloamin',
An' aye the king o' storms was foamin',
The doors did ringlum-pigs down tumbl‍d,
The strawns gush'd big, the sinks loud rumbl'd,
Auld grannies spread their looves, an' sigh'd,
Wi' "O, sirs! what an awfu' night!"
Poor Towser shook his sides a' draigl'd,
And's master grudged that he had taigl'd;
But wi' his merchandizing load,

Come weal, come wae, he took the road.
Now clouds drave o'er the fields like drift,
Night flung her black cleuk o'er the lift;
An' through the naked trees and hedges
The horrid storm redoubled rages;
An' to complete his piteous case,

It blew directly in his face.

Whiles 'gainst the footpath stabs he thumped,
Whiles o'er the coots in holes he plumped;
But on he gaed, and on he waded;
Till he at length turn'd faint and jaded;
To gang he could nae langer bide,
But lay doun by the bare dyke-side.—
Now, wife an' bairns rush'd on his soul,
He groan'd-poor Towser loud did howl,
An' mourning cower'd doun aside him.
But, oh! his master couldna heed him,
For now his senses 'gan to dozen,
His vera life-streams maist were frozen,
An't seemed as if the cruel skies
Exulted o'er their sacrifice;

For fierce the winds did o'er him hiss,
An' dashed the sleet on his cauld face.

As on a rock, far, far frae land, Twa shipwreck'd sailors shiv'ring stand, If chance a vessel they desery, Their hearts exult with instant joy. Sae was poor Towser joy'd to hear The tread o' travellers drawing near; He ran an' yowl'd, and fawn'd upon 'em, But couldna make them understand him, Till tugging at the foremost's coat, He led them to the mournfu' spot Where, cauld and stiff, his master lay, To the rude storm a helpless prey.

Wi' Caledonian sympathy, They bore him kindly on the way, Until they reach'd a cottage bein, They tauld the case, were welcom'd inThe rousin' fire, the cordial drop, Restor'd him soon to life and hope; Fond raptures beam'd in Towser's eye, An' antic gambols spake his joy.

Wha reads this simple tale may see The worth of sensibility,

And learn frae it to be humane-
In Towser's life he sav'd his ain.

GLOOMY WINTER'S NOW AWA'.

"Gloomy winter's now awa',

Saft the westlin' breezes blaw,
'Mang the birks o' Stanley-shaw

The mavis sings fu' cheery, O!
Sweet the crawflower's early bell
Decks Gleniffer's dewy dell,
Blooming like thy bonnie sel',
My young, my artless dearie, O!

Come, my lassie, let us stray
O'er Glenkilloch's sunny brae,
Blithely spend the gowden day

'Midst joys that never weary, O! Towering o'er the Newton woods, Laverocks fan the snaw-white clouds, Siller saughs, wi' downy buds,

Adorn the banks sae briery, O!

Round the sylvan fairy nooks
Feath'ry breckans fringe the rocks,
'Neath the brae the burnie jouks,
And ilka thing is cheery, O!
Trees may bud, and birds may sing,
Flowers may bloom and verdure spring,
Joy to me they canna bring,

Unless wi' thee, my dearie, O!

LOUDOUN'S BONNIE WOODS AND
BRAES.

"Loudoun's bonnie woods and braes,
I maun lea' them a', lassie;
Wha can thole when Britain's faes
Wad gi'e Britons law, lassie?
Wha would shun the field o' danger?
Wha frae fame wad live a stranger?
Now when Freedom bids avenge her,
Wha wad shun her ca', lassie?

Loudoun's bonnie woods and braes
Hae seen our happy bridal days,
And gentle hope shall soothe thy waes
When I am far awa', lassie."

"Hark! the swelling bugle sings,

Yielding joy to thee, laddie, But the dolefu' bugle brings

Waefu' thoughts to me, laddie. Lanely I maun climb the mountain, Lanely stray beside the fountain, Still the weary moments countin',

Far frae love and thee, laddie. O'er the gory fields of war, Where vengeance drives his crimson car, Thou'lt maybe fa', frae me afar,

And nane to close thy e'e, laddie."

"O! resume thy wonted smile!

O! suppress thy fears, lassie!
Glorious honour crowns the toil

That the soldier shares, lassie;
Heaven will shield thy faithful lover
Till the vengeful strife is over,
Then we'll meet nae mair to sever,

Till the day we die, lassie:
'Midst our bonnie woods and braes
We'll spend our peaceful, happy days,
As blithe's yon lightsome lamb that plays
On Loudoun's flowery lea, lassie."

MIDGES DANCE ABOON THE BURN.

The midges dance aboon the burn;
The dews begin to fa';

The pairtricks down the rushy holm
Set up their e'ening ca'.

Now loud and clear the blackbird's sang

Rings through the briery shaw, While flitting gay, the swallows play Around the castle wa'.

Beneath the golden gloaming sky

The mavis mends her lay;
The redbreast pours his sweetest strains
To charm the ling'ring day;
While weary yeldrins seem to wail

Their little nestlings torn,
The merry wren, frae den to den,

Gaes jinking through the thorn.

The roses fauld their silken leaves,
The foxglove shuts its bell;

The honeysuckle and the birk

Spread fragrance through the dell.