VI.

Ye mustering thunders from above, Your willing victim see! But spare and pardon my fause love, His wrangs to heaven and me!

* * * * *

CLXXXVIII.

MARY MORISON.

Tune--"_Bide ye yet._"

["The song prefixed," observes Burns to Thomson, "is one of my juvenile works. I leave it in your hands. I do not think it very remarkable either for its merits or its demerits." "Of all the productions of Burns," says Hazlitt, "the pathetic and serious love-songs which he has left behind him, in the manner of the old ballads, are, perhaps, those which take the deepest and most lasting hold of the mind. Such are the lines to Mary Morison." The song is supposed to have been written on one of a family of Morisons at Mauchline.]