Oh bricht, bricht are the evenin' beams,
An' sweet the pearly dew,
An' lovely is the star that gleams
In gloamin's dusky brow;
But brichter, sweeter, lovelier far,
Aboon a' human ken,
Is my sweet pearl—my lovely star—
My Jeanie o' the glen.
JOHN HUNTER.
The following compositions are, with permission, transcribed from a small volume of juvenile poems, with the title "Miscellanies, by N. R.," which was printed many years ago, for private circulation only, by Mr John Hunter, now auditor of the Court of Session.
THE BOWER O' CLYDE.
On fair Clydeside thair wonnit ane dame,
Ane dame of wondrous courtesie,
An' bonny was the kindly flame
That stremit frae her saft blue e'e.
Her saft blue e'e, 'mid the hinney dew,
That meltit to its tender licht,
Was bonnier far than the purest starre
That sails thro' the dark blue hevin at nicht.
If ony culd luke and safely see
Her dimplit cheek, and her bonny red mou,
Nor seek to sip the dew frae her lip,
A lifeless lump was he, I trow.
But it wuld haif saften'd the dullest wicht,
If ae moment that wicht might see
Her bonny breast o' the purest snaw,
That heavit wi' luve sae tenderlie.