"O tell sweet Willie to come doon And hear the mavis singing, And see the birds on ilka bush And leaves around them hinging. "The lav'rock there, wi' her white breast And gentle throat sae narrow; There's sport eneuch for gentlemen On Leader haughs and Yarrow. "O Leader haughs are wide and braid And Yarrow haughs are bonny; There Willie hecht to marry me If e'er he married ony. "But Willie's gone, whom I thought on, And does not hear me weeping; Draws many a tear frae true love's e'e When other maids are sleeping. "Yestreen I made my bed fu' braid, The night I'll mak' it narrow, For a' the live-lang winter night I lie twined o' my marrow. "O came ye by yon water-side? Pou'd you the rose or lily? Or came you by yon meadow green, Or saw you my sweet Willie?" She sought him up, she sought him down, She sought him braid and narrow; Syne, in the cleaving of a craig, She found him drown'd in Yarrow! ANON. 129. LOSS OF THE _ROYAL GEORGE_. Toll for the Brave! The brave that are no more! All sunk beneath the wave Fast by their native shore! Eight hundred of the brave Whose courage well was tried, Had made the vessel heel And laid her on her side. A land-breeze shook the shrouds And she was overset; Down went the _Royal George_, With all her crew complete. Toll for the brave! Brave Kempenfelt is gone: His last sea-fight is fought, His work of glory done. It was not in the battle; No tempest gave the shock; She sprang no fatal leak, She ran upon no rock. His sword was in its sheath, His fingers held the pen, When Kempenfeld went down With twice four hundred men. Weigh the vessel up Once dreaded by our foes! And mingle with our cup The tear that England owes. Her timbers yet are sound, And she may float again Full charged with England's thunder, And plough the distant main: But Kempenfeld is gone, His victories are o'er; And he and his eight hundred Shall plough the wave no more. W. COWPER. 130. BLACK-EYED SUSAN. All in the Downs the fleet was moor'd, The streamers waving in the wind, When black-eyed Susan came aboard; "O! where shall I my true-love find? Tell me, ye jovial sailors, tell me true If my sweet William sails among the crew." William, who high upon the yard Rock'd with the billow to and fro, Soon as her well-known voice he heard He sigh'd, and cast his eyes below; The cord slides swiftly through his glowing hands, And quick as lightning on the deck he stands.