LOVE AMANG THE HEATHER. 



In our casket of Scottish song gems, bonniest 

 among its treasures we find the wee Heatherbell glist- 

 ening in fragments of glowing love-rhyme. 



The charming ditties of the Scottish wooer, so 

 characteristic throughout Scotch lyrics, would be 

 shorn of much of their magic were they robbed of 

 their resourceful imagery, and comparison, and invo- 

 cation of the friendly Heather. He vows that the 

 steadfastness of his love shall abide as long as the 

 purple bells clothe in all their gorgeous beauty his 

 "everlasting hills;" he discovers a resemblance of 

 the color of the blossoms to his sweetheart's blushing 

 cheeks; he culls the bonnie blooms and weaves them 

 into garlands to deck her brow; he tempts her with 

 its fragrance, sighing poetic pleadings that in its in- 

 toxicating aroma together they plight their troth ; and 

 he delights to whisper to her lover's promises that 

 their home shall be where the Heather grows, and 

 proudly decks his castle in the air with buoyant hopes 

 of how amid this Heather beauty shall their little ones 

 be reared. 



I'll Lo'e Thee, Annie 



I'll lo'e thee, Annie, while the dew 



In siller bells hings on the tree ; 

 Or while the burnie's waves o' blue 



Rin wimplin' to the rowin' sea. 

 I'll lo'e thee while the gowan mild 



Its crimson fringe spreads on the lea ; 

 While blooms the Heather in the wild 



Oh ! Annie. I'll be true to thee. 



Robert Hamilton. 



199 



