JULIA'S GRAVE.
Tune—"Logan Water."
Ye briery bields, where roses blaw!
Ye flowery fells, and sunny braes,
Whase scroggie bosoms foster'd a'
The pleasures o' my youthfu' days!
Amang your leafy simmer claes,
And blushing blooms, the zephyr flies,
Syne wings awa', and wanton plays
Around the grave whare Julia lies.
Nae mair your bonnie birken bowers,
Your streamlets fair, and woodlands gay,
Can cheer the weary winged hours,
As up the glen I joyless stray;
For a' my hopes hae flown away,
And when they reach'd their native skies,
Left me amid the world o' wae,
To weet the grave where Julia lies.
It is na beauty's fairest bloom,
It is na maiden charms consign'd,
And hurried to an early tomb,
That wrings my heart and clouds my mind;
But sparkling wit, and sense refined,
And spotless truth, without disguise,
Make me with sighs enrich the wind
That fans the grave whare Julia lies.
FAREWEEL, YE STREAMS.
Air—"Lassie wi' the Yellow Coatie."
Fareweel, ye streams sae dear to me,
My bonnie Clouden, Kith, and Dee;
Ye burns that row sae bonnily,
Your siller waves nae mair I 'll see.
Yet though frae your green banks I 'm driven,
My saul away could ne'er be riven;
For still she lifts her e'en to heaven,
An' sighs to be again wi' thee.