SONG. BY GAVIN TURNBULL. O CONDESCEND, dear charming maid, While here, all melancholy, Yet, urg'd by stern resistless fate, I heard of love, and with disdain, But how my state is alter'd! O yield, illustrious beauty, yield, Let Let generous pity warm thee, The following address of Turnbull's to the Nightingale, will suit as an English song to the air, There was a lass and she was fair. By the by, Turnbull has a great many songs in MS. which I can command, if you like his manner. Possibly, as he is an old friend of mine, I may be prejudiced in his favour; but I like some of his pieces very much. THE NIGHTINGALE. BY G. TURNBULL. THOU Sweetest minstrel of the grove, Awake thy tender tale of love, And sooth a poor forsaken swain. For tho' the muses deign to aid, And teach him smoothly to complain; Yet Delia, charming, cruel maid, Is deaf to her forsaken swain. All All day, with fashion's gaudy sons, In sport she wanders o'er the plain : When evening shades obscure the sky, And sooth a poor forsaken swain. I shall just transcribe another of Turnbull's, which would go charmingly to Lewie Gordon. LAURA. By G. TURNBULL. LET me wander where I will, If If at rosy dawn I chuse, When at night the drowsy god The rest of your letter I shall answer at some other opportunity. No. No. XLVIII. MR. THOMSON to MR. BURNS. 7th Nov. 1793. MY GOOD SIR, AFTER so long a silence, it gave me peculiar pleasure to recognize your well-known hand, for I had begun to be apprehensive that all was not well with you. I am happy to find, however, that your silence did not proceed from that cause, and that you have got among the ballads once more. I have to thank you for your English song to Leiger m' choss, which I think extremely good, although the colouring is warm. Your friend Mr. Turnbull's songs have doubtless considerable merit; and as you have the command of his manuscripts, I hope you may find out some that will answer, as English songs, to the airs yet unprovided. No. |