Page:The Royal Lady's Magazine (Volume 1, 1831).djvu/59

This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.

Titled Authors.

37

in the town of Edinburgh would have kent it.'

"'I was delighted with the criticism of old Dalziel; if it had occurred to the Antiquarian Society, it might have saved Mr. Jerningham the trouble of his visit. But I have never corrected the error by changing the one pound, which has always passed current in its present state.'" * * * *

AULD ROBIN GRAY.

As originally written by Lady Anne Lindsay.

When the sheep are in the fauld, when the cows come hame,
When a' the weary world to quiet rest are gane,
The woes of my heart fa' in showers frae my ee,
Unken'd by my gudeman, who soundly sleeps by me.

Young Jamie loo'd me weel, and sought me for his bride;
But saving ae crown-piece, he'd naething else beside.
To make the crown a pound, my Jamie gaed to sea;
And the crown and the pound, O they were baith for me!

Before he had been gane a twelvemonth and a day
My father brak his arm, our cow was stown away;
My mother she fell sick—my Jamie was at sea—
And Auld Robin Gray, oh! he came a-courting me.

My father cou'dna work—my mother cou'dna spin;
I toil'd day and night, but their bread I cou'dna win;
Auld Rob maintain'd them baith, and, wi' tears in his ee,
Said, 'Jennie, oh! for their sakes, will you marry me?"

My heart it said na, and I look'd for Jamie back;
But hard blew the winds, and his ship was a wrack;
His ship it was a wrack! Why didna Jennie dee?
Or wherefore am I spared to cry out, Woe is me!

My father argued sair—my mother didna speak.
But she looked in my face till my heart was like to break:
They gied him my hand, but my heart was in the sea;
And so Auld Robin Gray, he was gudeman to me.

I hadna been his wife, a week but only four,
When mournfu' as I sat on the stane at my door,
I saw my Jamie's ghaist—I cou'd na think it he,
Till he said, "I'm come hame, my love, to marry thee!"

O sair, sair did we greet, and mickle say of a';
Ae kiss we took, nae mair—I bade him gang awa.
I wish that I were dead, but I'm no like to dee;
For O, I am but young to cry out, Woe is me!

I gang like a ghaist, and I carena much to spin;
I darena think o' Jamie, for that wad be a sin.
But I will do my best a gude wife aye to be.
For Auld Robin Gray, oh! he is sae kind to me.

So much for 'Auld Robin Gray.'

TITLED AUTHORS.

THE KEEPSAKE, FOR 1831.

There is no publication of the present day which so obviously suggests the title we have chosen, as the volume now before us; because no work with which we are acquainted, professes to rely (so exclusively almost) upon the advantages of aristocratical contributors. We shall proceed, therefore, to examine its contents, under this peculiar distinction; but, at the same time, with a just regard to its claims independently of it.

Mr. Reynolds condescendingly informs us, in his preface, that he has this year admitted into the sanctuary of the Keepsake, "a few anonymous articles for the satisfaction of those who may desire to judge of the merit of a work undazzled by