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Sweet are her blessing,
And kind her caressing;
But now it is fled, it is tied far away.

I have seen the forest,
Adorned the foremost,
With flowers of the fairest both pleasant and gay;
Mae bonny was their blooming,
Their scent the air perfuming,
Unit now they arc withered, and all gone away.

I have seen the morning,
With gold the hills adorning,
And loud tempest storming before-the middle day:
I’ve seen Tweed’s silver streams,
Shining in the sunny beams,
Crow drumly and dark as it roll’d oil the way.

O fickle fortune!
Why this cruel spoiling?
Why thus perplexing poor sons of a day?
Thy frowns cannot fear me.
Nor smiles cannot chear me,
Since the Flowers of the Forest are a’ wed away.

———0——

AULD ROB MORRIS.

MITHER.
AULD Rob Morris that wins in yon glen,
He’s the king o’good fellows, and wale o’ auld men,