O for Friday nicht—
Friday's lang o' cornin'!"
This love-song, which Mr. Chambers gives from recitation, is, thinks Uncle to himself, all but perfect; Burns, who in almost every instance, not only adorned, but transformed and purified whatever of the old he touched, breathing into it his own tenderness and strength, fails here, as may be seen in reading his version:—
"Oh, spring's a pleasant time
Flowers o' every colour—
The sweet bird builds her nest,
And I lang for my lover.
Aye wakin', oh!
Wakin' aye and wearie:
Sleep I can get nane,