II.
The chield wha boasts o’ warld’s walth
Is aften laird o’ meikle care;
But Mary she is a’ my ain—
Ah! fortune canna gie me mair.
Then let me range by Cassillis’ banks,
Wi’ her, the lassie dear to me,
And catch her ilka glance o’ love,
The bonnie blink o’ Mary’s e’e!
CLXVIII.
TO THEE, LOVED NITH.
Tune—[unknown.]
[There are several variations extant of these verses, and among others one which transfers the praise from the Nith to the Dee: but to the Dee, if the poet spoke in his own person, no such influences could belong.]
I.
To thee, lov’d Nith, thy gladsome plains,
Where late wi’ careless thought I rang’d,
Though prest wi’ care and sunk in woe,
To thee I bring a heart unchang’d.
II.