JAMES BROWN.
James Brown was born at Libberton, a village in the upper ward of Lanarkshire, on the 1st of July 1796. His father, the miller of Libberton-mill, was a person of superior intelligence, and his mother, Grizzel Anderson, was esteemed for her amiable dispositions. Deprived of his father while only six years old, he was early apprenticed to a hand-loom weaver. On the completion of his indenture, he removed to Symington, a village situate at the base of Tintock hill. His leisure hours were devoted to reading and an extensive correspondence with his friends. He formed a club for literary discussion, which assembled periodically at his house. Enthusiastic in his love of nature, he rejoiced in solitary rambles on the heights of Tintock and Dungavel; he made a pilgrimage to the Border and Ettrick Forest. In 1823 he removed to Glasgow, where he was employed in the warehouse of a manufacturing firm; he afterwards became agent of the house at Biggar, where he died on the 12th September 1836. Though the writer of much poetry of merit, Brown was indifferent to literary reputation; and chiefly intrusted his compositions to the keeping of his friends. His songs in the present work have been recovered by his early friend, Mr Scott Riddell, who has supplied these particulars of his life. Austere in manner, he was possessed of genial and benevolent dispositions; he became ultimately impressed with earnest religious convictions.
MY PEGGY 'S FAR AWAY.
Yestreen as I stray'd on the banks o' the Clyde,
A laddie beneath the gay greenwood I spied,
Who sang o' his Peggy, and oh! he seem'd wae,
For Peggy, sweet Peggy, was far, far away.
Though fair burns the taper in yon lofty ha',
Yet nought now shines bright where her shade doesna fa';
My Peggy was pure as the dew-drops o' May,
But Peggy, sweet Peggy, is far, far away.
Ye breezes that curve the blue waves o' the Clyde,
And sigh 'mang the dark firs on yon mountain side,
How dreary your murmurs throughout the lang day,
Since Peggy, sweet Peggy, gaed far, far away.
The sable-wing'd blackbird yon birk-trees amang,
And mavis sing notes that accord wi' my sang,
A' nature is dowie, by bank and by brae,
Since Peggy, sweet Peggy, gaed far, far away.
Ye dew-dripping daisies that bloom by the burn,
Though scathed by rude winter in spring ye return;
I mark'd, but I minded no whit your decay,
Ere Peggy, sweet Peggy, gaed far, far away.