IV.

The Highland hills I've wander'd wide, And o'er the Lowlands I hae been; But Phemie was the blithest lass That ever trod the dewy green. Blithe, blithe and merry was she, Blithe was she but and ben: Blithe by the banks of Ern. And blithe in Glenturit glen.

* * * * *

THE BLUDE RED ROSE AT YULE MAY BLAW.

Tune--"_To daunton me._"

[The Jacobite strain of "To daunton me," must have been in the mind of the poet when he wrote this pithy lyric for the Museum.]