over;

To equal young Jessie you seek it in vain ;

Grace, beauty, and elegance, fetter her lover,

And maidenly modesty fixes the chain.

to the poets whom we are more likely To equal young Jessie seek Scotland all to see, and in whom the same blemishes, with an inferior portion of genius, would be far less tolerable. We consider no poet to be exempt from criticism, in the liberal sense of the word; and, whenever criticism speaks, she must speak honestly and frankly, not fearing to touch the best, and still less to touch the next best, where she sees any infringement of the immutable principles of beauty or truth.

"O fresh is the rose in the gay, dewy morning,

And sweet is the lily at evening close; But in the fair presence o' lovely young Jessie,

Unseen is the lily, unheeded the rose.

Love sits in her smile, a wizard ensnaring, Enthroned in her een he delivers his law;

stranger,

Her modest demeanour 's the jewel of a'."

We must further observe, by way of preface, that, in criticising the writings of a man like Burns, it is not to be supposed that we should ever have to find fault with a total emptiness of And still to her charms she alone is a thought or absence of elegance. It was probably as impossible for him to have written a silly or absolutely dull song, as it would have been for Burke, in any mood of negligence, to have conversed in downright drivel. The defects we shall have to detect are of a different kind, consisting either in individual blots disfiguring a form otherwise fair, or in an inferior degree of that beauty and finish which are essential to lyric poetry. Let it be remembered, also, that Burns became latterly anxious to revise the songs which he had written—a consideration which does not dispense with the duty of observing their defects, but which exculpates him from the suspicion of over-estimating their merits.

We now commence our task by selecting some of the most conspicuous examples of songs which, in our opinion, the poet should have been advised to withhold as unworthy of his genius, at least in the state in which they appear. Our selection shall chiefly be made from Mr Thomson's Collection or Correspondence, which, from its authoritative and prominent character, as well as from the great beauty of many of the songs contained in it, ought to have excluded every thing that was not excellent.

What has the following to recommend it, except one or two smooth lines here and there?—

"True-hearted was he, the sad swain o' the Yarrow,

And fair are the maids on the banks o'

The versification of this song seems to us to be deadened by the absence of rhyme in the first and third lines of the quatrain, while the ideas generally are tame and the expressions prosaic. Elegance is an attribute of heroines that should not be mentioned in song, however it may be admired in reality. "Sweet is the lily at evening close," will not scan without a mispronunciation. The images of love sitting in her smile "a wizard ensnaring," and delivering his law "enthroned in her een," have not much happiness, and are inconsistent with simplicity. "Still to her charms she alone is a stranger," has as little of poetry in it for a concluding thought, as can well be ima gined.

The following song is declared by Mr Thomson to be "quite enchanting." Read it carefully, and say if you are of the same opinion.

"Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger,
Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her
The flowery May, who from her green lap throws
The yellow cowslip and the pale primrose.
Hail! bounteous May, that dost inspire
Mirth, and youth, and warm desire:
Woods and groves are of thy dressing,
Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing.
Thus we salute thee with our early song,
And welcome thee and wish thee long."

In their own sphere, the verses with which Burns begins the song under consideration, seem to promise a not unworthy echo of the May-day melody which the high-priest of the Muses had already sounded. But, alas! the delusion is soon dissipated. When we find that the great theme of gladness and source of inspiration, in the poem, is to be the prospect of wandering "wi' Davie," we feel half ashamed of our rising enthusiasm; and when it further appears that the individual in question rejoices in the epithet of "Dainty". "Dainty Davie"-the affair is involved in still greater embarrassment. We are of a totally dif ferent opinion from Juliet in the mat. ter of names; and are indeed on that subject of nearly the same mind with Mr Shandy. It may be of very little moment to a young lady in love, whether her hero is a Montague or a Capulet; but if the alternative lay between one of those patronymics and that of Tomkins, or Tims, we are inclined to think that even Juliet would

have been staggered. The farce of Mr H., though deservedly damned as a whole, was at least successful as a demonstration of the doctrine for which we are now contending. Christian names are certainly not less important than surnames, and in songs are rather more so, as we do not think it is usual to give the surname in a lyric. To David generally, even to Sir David, we have a strong objection except in his proper place, and would almost here have preferred Solomon or Samuel." Davie," the diminutive, does not much mend the matter; and, on the whole, we think that the gentleman whose image is so intimately blended with the flowers of May, would, by some other name, have smelt more odoriferously, and would probably have been most effective in an anonymous form. The functions attributed to the reverend hero of the original ditty, were congenial with the name of Dainty Davie, under

which he was designated. But the lady who, in Burns's song, exhibits so just an appreciation of vernal scenery, should have been matched with a lover bearing a less vulgar appellation, or should have kept the vulgarity as much as possible in the background.

Laying out of view the unfortunate burden with which we consider it to be weighed down, the imagery in the song, generally, is pastoral and pleasing. These lines,

"The crystal waters round us fa', The merry birds are lovers a', The scented breezes round us blaw," are redolent of youth and joy, and are almost every thing that they should be. The epithet of "crystal" to falling waters, however, is of doubtful propriety, as crystal falling in any shape is rather a nervous idea. We feel a stronger, and we think a more substantial objection, to the picture in the last verse, of day" expiring, and drawing the curtain of Nature's rest." We are not so fastidious as to repudiate all similitudes that may be borrowed from artificial or mechanical objects. can, without aversion, think of the moon as the "refulgent lamp of night;" and would even occasionally, as here. allow the upholsterer to bear his part, To despise the "curtain-drawing" of Burns, in a simple song, would be unjust in any who are willing to admire in a sacred hymn a metaphor of Milton, which gives us still more of the details and drapery of the bed-cham

ber:

"So when the Sun in bed,

We

Curtain'd with cloudy red, Pillows his chin upon an orient wave." What we object to in the stanza now before us, is not that the curtain should be drawn, but that this should be done by "Day" when represented as "expiring;" an expression which, in an imaginative passage of this kind, must be taken in a literal, and not in a reflected sense. Drawing the curtain

Song- Writing.
would be appropriate enough in a per-
son going to sleep; but, in one "expi-
ring," it is never needed, and not often
attempted. The figure of Death thus
presented to us, in a scene of peace and
joy, is incongruous and painful.

We would further observe, with re-
ference to this song, that Mr Thom-
son's usual censorial powers seem to
have been lulled into a slumber when
he allowed it to pass without question.
Mr Thomson is as vigilant as a kirk-
session to discover any impropriety of
conduct, or even to entertain a fama
in the case of the heroes and heroines
of the older songs; and it is surprising
that he should not have perceived the
suspicious position of "Dainty Davie"
and his female admirer.
tainly do not appear to be residing
They cer-
together as married persons, otherwise
there would be no occasion for their
frequent assignations on the "warlock
knowe;" and, therefore, the lady's fly-
ing to her Davie's arms, when" Day
draws the curtain of Nature's rest," is
a feature in the case that "rigour," or
"advice with scrupulous heed," would
have pronounced to be at least as dan-
gerous as most things of the kind in
the old school.

These are not scruples that would occur to ourselves, who are always disposed to put the best construction on the behaviour of young people; but they are unanswerable objections, as against Mr Thomson, who carried his views so far as to pronounce the delightful old song of "Saw ye my father" to be both indelicate and silly. Burns was of a different opinion there on both points, and so are we. strain we now refer to is old, indeed, The and in one sense simple; but we see not the silliness. What is there silly in the "lassie's" bargain with the bird that was her only time-teller, that, if he was faithful to his office,

"His breast it shall be of the bonny beaten gowd,

And his wings of the silver grey?"

Is the catastrophe silly, or is it sweetly poetical?

"The cock proved fause, and untrue he was,

For he crew an hour o'er soon:

The lassie thought it day when she sent her love away,

And it was but a glimpse of the moon.'
A lament for the loss of one pre-

[Aug.

cious hour of sweet and secret love, and sensibility," and the premature seems to us to indicate both "sense anticipation of dawn, from a fitful effulgence of the wading moon, is sing. Have we not, in the highest both graphically and poetically pleapoetry, the same subject handled in a somewhat similar, though it may be genius of Shakspeare over that of all in a superior style, as superior as the the reflection, in our own homely and other men? And shall we not admire nameless minstrel, of the same burning spirit that gave birth to the doubts and delusions of Juliet and her lover, when fearfully watching the approach of dawn, and avaricious of every moThe mistake in the one case is in the ment that the night would grant them? cock, in giving warning too soon; in fusing to believe a warning that was the other, it is in the fond lover realmost too late.

tween the situations is, to our minds, But a parallel beeasily drawn ; and in each of the representations, after its own kind and measure, we can admire the feeling of tenderness and beauty which prompted the poetry.

"Jul. Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet
near day :

It was the nightingale, and not the lark
That pierced the fearful hollow of thine

ear:

Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate

tree:

Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.

Rom. It was the lark, the herald of the

morn,

No nightingale; look, love, what envious
streaks

Do lace the severing clouds in yonder

east:

Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund
Day

Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain
tops:

I must begone and live; or stay and die.
Jul. Yon light is not daylight, I know
it, 1:

It is some meteor that the sun exhales,
To be to thee this night a torch-bearer,
And light thee on thy way to Mantua:
Therefore, stay yet, thou need'st not to
be gone.

Rom. Let me be ta'en, let me be put
to death;

I am content so thou wilt have it so.
I'll say yon gray is not the morning's eye,
'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow :
Nor that is not the lark, whose notes do
beat