Mrs Cockburn, who was born in 1714, lived to 1794,
and saw and proclaimed the wonderful promise of Walter Scott. She wrote
a great deal, but the 'Flowers of the Forest' is the only one of her
effusions that has been published. A ludicrous story is told of her son,
who was a dissipated youth, returning one night drunk, while a large
party of _savans_ was assembled in the house, and locking himself up in
the room in which their coats and hats were deposited. Nothing would
rouse him; and the company had to depart in the best substitutes they
could find for their ordinary habiliments,--Hume (characteristically) in
a dreadnought, Monboddo in an old shabby hat, &c.--the echoes of the
midnight Potterrow resounding to their laughter at their own odd figures.
It is believed that Mrs Cockburn's song was really occasioned by the
bankruptcy of a number of gentlemen in Selkirkshire, although she chose
to throw the new matter of lamentation into the old mould of song.
THE FLOWERS OF THE FOREST.
BY MISS JANE ELLIOT.
1 I've heard the lilting at our yowe-milking,
Lasses a-lilting before the dawn of day;
But now they are moaning on ilka green loaning--
The Flowers of the Forest are a' wede away.
2 At buchts, in the morning, nae blithe lads are scorning,
The lasses are lonely, and dowie, and wae;
Nae daffin', nae gabbin', but sighing and sabbing,
Ilk ane lifts her leglen and hies her away.
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