II.

Whae'er ye be that woman love, To this be never blind, Nae ferlie 'tis tho' fickle she prove, A woman has't by kind. O woman, lovely woman fair! An angel form's fa'n to thy share, 'Twad been o'er meikle to gien thee mair-- I mean an angel mind.

* * * * *

THE EXCISEMAN.

Tune--"_The Deil cam' fiddling through the town._"

[Composed and sung by the poet at a festive meeting of the excisemen of the Dumfries district.]