CCXLIX.

TO MR. THOMSON.

[For the "Wandering Willie" of this communication Thomson offered several corrections.]

_March, 1793._

Here awa, there awa, wandering Willie, Now tired with wandering, haud awa hame; Come to my bosom, my ae only dearie, And tell me thou bring'st me my Willie the same.

Loud blew the cauld winter winds at our parting; It was na the blast brought the tear in my e'e; Now welcome the simmer, and welcome my Willie, The simmer to nature, my Willie to me.

Ye hurricanes, rest in the cave o' your slumbers! Oh how your wild horrors a lover alarms! Awaken, ye breezes! blow gently, ye billows! And waft my dear laddie ance mair to my arms.

But if he's forgotten his faithfulest Nannie, O still flow between us, thou wide, roaring main; May I never see it, may I never trow it, But, dying, believe that my Willie's my ain!

I leave it to you, my dear Sir, to determine whether the above, or the old "Thro' the lang muir I have followed my Willie," be the best.

R. B.

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