IV.

The bird that charm'd his summer-day, Is now the cruel fowler's prey; Let witless, trusting woman say How aft her fate's the same, jo. I tell you now this ae night, This ae, ae, ae night; And ance for a' this ae night, I winna let you in jo!

* * * * *

CCXLVIII.

THE DUMFRIES VOLUNTEERS.

Tune--"_Push about the jorum._"

[This national song was composed in April, 1795. The poet had been at a public meeting, where he was less joyous than usual: as something had been expected from him, he made these verses, when he went home, and sent them, with his compliments, to Mr. Jackson, editor of the Dumfries Journal. The original, through the kindness of my friend, James Milligan, Esq., is now before me.]