No More Learning

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ALLAN WATER.

This Allan Water, which the composer of the music has honoured with
the name of the air, I have been told is Allan Water, in Strathallan.

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THERE'S NAE LUCK ABOUT THE HOUSE.

This is one of the most beautiful songs in the Scots, or any other
language. --The two lines,

"And will I see his face again!
And will I hear him speak! "

as well as the two preceding ones, are unequalled almost by anything I
ever heard or read: and the lines,

"The present moment is our ain,
The neist we never saw,"--

are worthy of the first poet. It is long posterior to Ramsay's days.
About the year 1771, or 72, it came first on the streets as a ballad;
and I suppose the composition of the song was not much anterior to
that period.

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TARRY WOO.

This is a very pretty song; but I fancy that the first half stanza, as
well as the tune itself, are much older than the rest of the words.

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GRAMACHREE.

The song of Gramachree was composed by a Mr. Poe, a counsellor at law
in Dublin. This anecdote I had from a gentleman who knew the lady, the
"Molly," who is the subject of the song, and to whom Mr.
Poe sent the
first manuscript of his most beautiful verses. I do not remember any
single line that has more true pathos than

"How can she break that honest heart that wears her in its core! "

But as the song is Irish, it had nothing to do in this collection.

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THE COLLIER'S BONNIE LASSIE.

The first half stanza is much older than the days of Ramsay. --The old
words began thus:

"The collier has a dochter, and, O, she's wonder bonnie!
A laird he was that sought her, rich baith in lands and money.
She wad na hae a laird, nor wad she be a lady,
But she wad hae a collier, the colour o' her daddie. "

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MY AIN KIND DEARIE-O.

The old words of this song are omitted here, though much more
beautiful than these inserted; which were mostly composed by poor
Fergusson, in one of his merry humours. The old words began thus:

"I'll rowe thee o'er the lea-rig,
My ain kind dearie, O,
I'll rowe thee o'er the lea-rig,
My ain kind dearie, O,
Altho' the night were ne'er sae wat,
And I were ne'er sae weary, O;
I'll rowe thee o'er the lea-rig,
My ain kind dearie, O. "--

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MARY SCOTT, THE FLOWER OF YARROW.

Mr. Robertson, in his statistical account of the parish of Selkirk,
says, that Mary Scott, the Flower of Yarrow, was descended from the
Dryhope, and married into the Harden family. Her daughter was married
to a predecessor of the present Sir Francis Elliot, of Stobbs, and of
the late Lord Heathfield.

There is a circumstance in their contract of marriage that merits
attention, and it strongly marks the predatory spirit of the times.