W. J. MICKLE.  1734-1788.

The dews of summer nights did fall,

The moon, sweet regent of the sky,[426:3]

Silvered the walls of Cumnor Hall

And many an oak that grew thereby.

Cumnor Hall.

For there 's nae luck about the house,

There 's nae luck at a';

[[427]]There 's little pleasure in the house

When our gudeman 's awa'.