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teen editions within a twelvemonth, or upwards of 20,000 copies. It was evidently suggested by Wilson's prior published " 'Watty and Meg," and is, it must be confessed, inferior in dramatic vigour to that graphic but less sentimental sketch. It has also a simple pathos and moral purpose that its prototype wants, and has therefore had the advantage in popularity over the superior piece of poetic art. In 1796, Macneill went to Jamaica for the benefit of his health, and returned considerably improved.

On the death of John Graham, Esq., of Jamaica, in 1798, the poet was left an annuity of £100 a-year, which, with his literary earnings, kept him in comparative comfort, and enabled him to mix in the literary society of Edinburgh. He was for some time editor of the Scots Magazine; and latterly he wrote tales with a view to reform what he conceived to be the social defects of his countrymen of the working classes. Two of them-"Bygane Times” and "Town Fashions"-are in verse; and the last is a novel, entitled "The Scottish Adventurers;" but they are now quite forgotten, although they contain some sketches equal to anything he has written. In 1801, he published a collected edition of his poems; but after this he added little to his fame. died at Edinburgh in 1818.

He

There is little original in Macneill's writing, either in the manner or the matter; and the specimens we give comprehend almost all of his poems that can be said to have much merit. The songs are excellent, and maintain their popularity as part of our lyric treasures. (10)

WILL AND JEAN.

PART I.

Wha was ance like Willie Gairlace,

Wha in neighbouring town or farm? Beauty's bloom shone in his fair face, Deadly strength was in his arm. Wha wi' Will could rin or wrastle?

Throw the sledge, or toss the bar? Hap what would, he stood a castle,

Or for safety, or for war.

Warm his heart, and mild as manfu',

But to friends wha had their handfu',

With the bauld he bauld could be ;

Purse and service aye were free. Whan he first saw Jeanie Miller,

Wha' wi' Jeanie could compare?
Thousands had mair braws and siller;
But were ony half sae fair?

Saft her smile raise like May morning,
Glinting o'er Demait's brow :1
Sweet! wi' opening charms adorning
Strevlin's lovely plains below!
Kind and gentle was her nature;

At ilk place she bore the bell ;-
Sic a bloom, and shape, and stature !
But her look nae tongue can tell!

Such was Jean whan Will first mawing,

Spied her on a thraward beast ;

Flew like fire, and just whan fa'ing,

Kept her on his manly breast.

Light he bare her, pale as ashes,

Cross the meadow, fragrant green! Placed her on the new-mawn rashes, Watching sad her opening een. Such was Will, whan poor Jean, fainting, Drapt into a lover's arms; Wakened to his saft lamenting, Sighed, and blushed a thousand charms.

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Soon they loo'd, and soon were buckled; Nane took time to think and rue; Youth, and worth, and beauty cuppled; Love had never less to do.

Three short years flew by fu' canty, Jean and Will thought them but ane; Ilka day brought joy and plenty,

Ilka year a dainty wean.

Will wrought sair, but aye with pleasure;
Jean the hale day spun and sang ;
Will and weans her constant treasure;
Blest with them, nae day seemed lang.

Trig her house, and oh! to busk aye

Ilk sweet bairn was a' her pride!— But at this time news and whisky

Sprang nae up at ilk road-side.

Luckless was the hour when Willie,
Hame returning frae the fair,
O'ertook Tam, a neighbour billie,
Sax miles frae their hame and mair.

Simmer's heat had lost its fury,

Calmly smiled the sober e'en ;
Lasses on the bleachfield hurry,
Skelping barefoot o'er the green;
Labour rang with laugh and clatter,
Canty hairst was just begun,
And on mountain, tree, and water,
Glinted saft the setting sun.

Will and Tam, wi' hearts a' lowping,
Marked the hale, but could nae bide;
Far frame hame, nae time for stopping,
Baith wished for their ain fire-side:

On they travelled, warm and drouthy,
Cracking o'er the news in town;
The mair they cracked, the mair ilk youthy
Prayed for drink to wash news down.
Fortune, wha but seldom listens

To poor merit's modest prayer,
And on fools heaps needless blessin's,
Harkened to our drouthy pair.

In a howm,' whase bonnie burnie

Whimperin' rowed its crystal flood, Near the road, whar trav'lers turn aye, Neat and bield a cot-house stood. White the wa's wi' roof new theekit, Window broads just painted red; Lown 'mang trees and braes it reekit, Haflins seen, and haflins hid;

Up the gavel end thick spreading

Crap the clasping ivy green;
Back owre, firs the high craigs cleading,
Raised a' round a cozy screen :

Down below, a flowery meadow
Joined the burnie's rambling line;
Here it was, that Howe the widow
This same day set up her sign.
Brattling down the brae, and near its
Bottom, Will first marv'lling sees
'Porter, ale, and British spirits,'
Painted bright between twa trees.
Tam, here's walth for

'Godsake!

drinking;

(Wha can this new comer be?') 'Hoot!' quo' Tam, 'there's drouth in thinking

Let's in, Will, and syne we'll see.'

Nae mair time they took to speak or

Think of ought but reaming jugs; Till three times in humming 3 liquor Ilk lad deeply laid his lugs.

Slockened now, refreshed and talking,

In came Meg (weel skilled to please), 'Sirs! ye're surely tired wi' walkingYe maun taste my bread and cheese.'

Thanks,' quo' Will;-'I canna tarry, Pick mirk4 night is setting in ; Jean, poor thing's! her lane, and eery— I maun to the road and rin.'

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Saw her Will, wha ance sae cheerie
Raise ilk morning wi' the lark,
Now grown mauchless, dowf, and sweer1

aye

To look near his farm or wark;

Saw him tyne his manly spirit,

Healthy bloom, and sprightly ee; And o' love and hame grown wearit, Nightly frae his family flee ;Wha could blame her heart's complaining? Wha condemn her sorrows meek? Or the tears that now ilk e'ening Bleached her lately crimsoned cheek!

Will, wha lang had rued and swithered, (Aye ashamed o' past disgrace) Marked the roses as they withered

Fast on Jeanie's lovely face!

Marked, and felt wi' inward racking,

A' the wyte lay wi' himsel',Swore neist night he'd mak a breaking,— D-d the club and news to hell!

But, alas! when habit's rooted,

Few hae pith the root to pu' ; Will's resolves were aye nonsuited, Promised aye, but aye got fou;

Aye at first at the convening

Moralized on what was right;— Yet o'er clavers entertaining

Dozed and drank till braid daylight.

Things at length drew near an ending; Cash runs out; Jean, quite unhappy, Sees that Will is now past mending,

Tynes a' heart, and taks a drappie!

Ilka drink deserves a posy;

Port maks men rude, claret civil ; Beer maks Britons stout and rosy, Whisky maks ilk wife-a devil.

I Listless, dull, and disinclined.

Jean, wha lately bore affliction

Wi' sae meek and mild an air,

Schooled by whisky, learns new tricks soon,
Flytes, and storms, and rugs Will's hair.
Jean, sae late the tenderest mither,
Fond of ilk dear dauted wean!
Now, heart-hardened a' thegither,
Skelps them round frae morn till e'en.
Jean, wha vogie1 loo'd to busk aye

In her hame-spun, thrifty wark,
Now sells a' her braws for whisky,
To her last gown, coat, and sark!
Robin Burns, in mony a ditty,

Loudly sings in whisky's praise; Sweet his sang !-the mair's the pity E'er on it he wared sic lays.

O' a' the ills poor Caledonia

E'er yet pree'd, or e'er will taste, Brewed in hell's black Pandemonia, Whisky's ill will scaith her maist !

Wha was ance like Willie Gairlace, Wha in neighbouring town or farm? Beauty's bloom shone in his fair face, Deadly strength was in his arm!

Whan he first saw Jeanie Miller,

Wha wi' Jeanie could compare?
Thousands had mair braws and siller,
But were ony half sae fair?

See them now-how changed wi' drinking!
A' their youthfu' beauty gane!
Davered, doited, daized,3 and blinking,
Worn to perfect skin and bane!

In the cauld month o' November,
(Claes, and cash, and credit out),
Cow'ring o'er a dying ember,
Wi' ilk face as white's a clout;

2

Blame.

I Proud, boastful. 2 Fine clothes.

3 Muddled, imbeciled, stupefied.

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