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THE BENSON LIBRARY OF HYMNOLOGY

Endowed by the Reverend


Louis Fitzgerald Benson, d.d.

I
LIBRARY OF THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY

PRINCETON,

NEW JERSEY

THE

SONGS OF ROBERT BURNS,

WITH MUSIC.
tntznnx%

(Biixtioxt*

GLASGOW:
DAVID JACK, FOR THE PROPRIETORS;
LONDON: HOULSTON & WRIGHT.
1859.

PREFACE.
The

present volume gives to the Public, for the

Songs of Robert Bubns

set to the

Compositions with which they have hecome associated.

were actuated by a

first

time, a Complete Collection of the

Melodies for which they were written, or to Standard


In projecting this work the Publishers

want very generally expressednamely, a popular

desire to supply a

edition of Burns's Songs with Music, at a price that, in keeping with the spirit of the age,
will bring those splendid contributions

humblest.

The Centenary

to

our National Minstrelsy within the reach of the

of the birth of the great Scottish

tho appearance of such a work

and

it is

Bard seems a

befitting time for

therefore with peculiar feelings of satisfaction that

the Publishers submit this volume, which they would present as a humble tribute of respect

on an occasion so interesting, when the countrymen and admirers of Burns, resident in many
lands,

have united

to

do honour to his genius and memory.

Burns are esteemed as the contributions of a


truth,

and as containing the most

a language that gives


in his

to

While the Poems of Robert

gifted writer in the cause of independence

felicitous illustrations of Scottish

them peculiar

force

and character,

it is,

humble

life,

and

expressed iu

however, most probably

Songs that the remarkable powers of the Poet are best displayed, and by thern that he

be found to have done the greatest and most lasting service to his country.

Burns has

not only added the richest gems to our lyric regalia, but he has brought into

the light,

will

and

skilfully set

and polished many antique jewels of rare beauty

have lain despised and neglected.

January, 1859.

that,

but for him, would

CONTENTS,
Page

Page
126
124

Address to the woodlark,"


Adown winding Nith I did wander,
Ae fond kiss Duet,
Afton Water,
A man's a man for a' that,
Anna, thy charms my bosom fire,
for ane an' twenty, Tarn,
An'
A rosebud by my early walk,
As I cam' down by yon castle wa',
As I cam' o'er the Cairney Mount,

24

69
113
47
81
62
76

Bannocks o' bear meal,


Behold the hour the boat arrive Duet,
Bessie and her spinning wheel,
Blythe, bly the, and merry was she,
Blythe ha'e I been on yon hill,
Bonnie Ann,
Bonnie Castle-Gordon,
Bonnie Peggy Alison,
Bonnie wee thing,
Braving angry winter's storms,
Braw, braw lads,
But lately seen,
Allan stream I chaue'd to rove,

..

110
17
58
59
125
123
122
119
23
122
20
122

....... 126

banks,

Cauld blaws the wind,


Ca' the ewes to the knowes,
Come, let me take thee to my breast,
Contented wi' little,
Could aught of song,
Craigie-burn wood,

24
94
37
125
68
23
1 04

Deluded swain, the pleasure,


Does haughty Gaul invasion threat ?

104
86

Cassillis'

Eppie Adair,

thee, Eliza, I

Gae bring

to

me

must

a pint

love,
go,

wine,

o'

Gloomy December,
Green grow the rashes, O,

Had

a cave,

Handsome Nell
Her flowing locks,

29
128
92

80
124
45
16
127
103
1 10

Here's a bottle and an honest friend,


Here's a health to ane I lo'e dear,
Here's to thy health, my bonnie lass,
Hey for a lass wi' a tocher,

100
40
1 28

Highland Mary,
How long and dreary is the night,
Hunting song,
Husband, husband, cease your strife,

126
108

71

34

122
I do confess thou art sae fair,
I dream'd I lay where flow'rs were springing,49
7
I gaed a waefu' gate yestreen,
30
ain,
I ha'e a wife o'
I'll aye ca' in by yon town,
61
I married wi' a "scolding wife,
8
I'm owre young to marry yet,
21

my

In simmer,

when

It is na, Jean,
It was upon a

the hay was

thy bonnie

Lammas

Jockey's ta'en the pairtin'

John Anderson,

mawn,

face,

night,
kiss,

my jo,

75
95

42
27
23

51

Fair Eliza,
121
Fairest maid on Devon banks,
127
Farewell, thou stream that winding flows, 90
Farewell to the brethren of St. James's
Lodge, Tarbolton,
10
,

From

31

39
Ill

Auld langsvne,
Auld Rob Morris Trio,

By

For the sake o' somebody,


Frae the friends and land I

Lassie wi' the lint-white locks,


Last May a braw wooer,
Let not woman e'er complain,

Logan Water,
Long, long, the night,
Lord Gregory,
Louis, what reck I by thee,
Lovely Davies,

Macpherson's farewell,

Mary Morison,

Meg

o'

the mill,

35
46
81
115
125
9
1 02
120

98
32
124

co

iv

Page
I

Menie
Montgomery's Peggy,
Musing on the roaring ocean,

120
89
122

My Chloris, mark how green the groves, ..126


My Harry was a gallant gay,
56
My heart's in the Highlands,
14
My lady's gown, there's gairs upon't, .... 123
My love is like a red, red rose,
41
My love she's but a lassie yet,
128
My Nannie, 0,
84
My Nannie's awa',
26
My tocher's the jewel,
20
My wife's a winsome wee thing
65
Nithsdale's

welcome home,

No churchman am I,
Now rosy May comes

128

in wi' flowers,

aye my wife she dang me,


bonnie was yon rosy brier,
airts the wind can blaw,

117

There grows a bonnie brier bush,

101

The Highland widow's lament,


The lass o' Ballochmyle,
The lazy mist,
The lea rig,
The lovely lass o* Inverness,
The ploughman,
The smiling spring,
The soldier's return Duet,
The sons of old Killie
The tither mom,
The weary pund o' tow,
The young Highland rover,

Of a' the

gin my love Duet,


Oh Mally's meek, Mally's sweet,
Oh, were I on Parnassus' hill,
O lassie, art thou sleeping yet ?

16
09
50
15

124
121

52
Answer to ditto,
52
. . .
O lay thy loof in mine, lass,
102
128
O leave novels,
O love will venture in,
99
O lovely Polly Stewart,
90
On a bank of flowers,
93
O poortith cauld,
112
O saw ye bonnie Leslie ?
87
93
O saw ye my deary,
57
O this is no my ain lassie,
73
O Tibbie, I ha'e seen the day,
6
O wert thou in the cauld blast,
70
O wha is she that lo'es me ?
O whistle and I'll come to you, my lad, .... 48
44
O Willie brew'd a peck o' maut,
78
Out over the Forth,
,

Page
Tarn Glen,

The banks of Cree,


The banks of Nith,
The banks of the Devon
The battle of Sheriffmuir,
The birks of Aberfeldy,
The blude-red rose at yule may blaw,
The braes o' Ballochmyle,
The braes o' Killiecrankie,
The Chevalier's lament,
The day returns, my bosom burns,
The de'il's awa' wi' the exciseman,
The deuks dang o'er my daddie,
The gallant weaver, ..."
The gloomy night is gath'ring fast,

Their groves

Rattlin', roarin' Willie

Raving winds around her blowing,


Sae flaxen were her ringlets,
Scots wha ha'e wi' Wallace bled,
She's fair and fause
Sleep'st thou, or wak'st thou,

Song composed in August,


Strathallan's lament,
Sweetest May,

125
120

26
125
60
25
83
114
119
121

105

88
12

54

....

19

43
119
85
64
79
63
38
SO
105
118
123
1

15

103

106

34
66
127
94
36
109
74

sweet myrtle,

There'il never be peace till Jamie comes, . 53


There's three good fellows ayont yon glen, 97
There was a lad was born in Kyle,
33
82
There was a lass and she was fair,
There was a lass they ca'd her Meg,
23
1 27
Thine am I, my faithful fair,
Thou art gane awa' frae me, Mary Duet . . 22
Though cruel fate,
100
Tibbie Dunbar
112
11
To Mary in heaven,
.

'Twas na her bonnie blue

Wae is my
Phillis the fair,
Powers celestial

o'

13
127
23
72

e'e,

heart

Wandering

32
91

Willie,

What can

55
a young lassie,
When Januar' wind was blawing cauld, ..116
77
Whistle o'er the lave o't,
113
Why, why tell thy lover Fragment,
121
Willie Wastle
6
Will ye go to the Indies, my Mary?
Ill
Wilt thou be my dearie ?

Ye banks and braes Duet,


Yestreen

had a pinto' wine,

Young Jessie,
Young Jockie was the

bly thest lad,

18
107

120
8

THE

SONGS OF ROBERT BURNS.


WANDERING WILLIE.
r=

^=3
Here

ain

on

Win

ter

ly

wa',

dear

there

- ie,

d- H

Tell

me, thou bring'st

winds blew loud an' cauld at

Willie brought tears in

my

Wil

- in'

e*e;

Welcome

Here

- lie,

me my Wil -

our

maid

i:

dE

wa\ wan - der

part

now

the same.

lie

ing, Fears for

sim-mer,

Wil

It
-

The sim-mer

lie,

to

na

tare,

my

Wil

- lie

your slumbers,
your dread howling a lover alarms
Wauken, ye breezes row gently, ye billows
And waft my dear laddie ance mair to my arms.
But oh! if he's faithless, and minds nae his Nannie,
Flow still between us thou wide roaring main
May I never see it, may I never trow it,
Rest, ye "wild storms, in the cave of

How

But dying,

believe that

my

Willie's

my

ain!

my

and welcome

^=^*EEH=E=& ^=Z=g=t
~=

Z3t

wa',

to

me.

my

WERT THOU IN THE


Am

CATJLD BLAST.

ADAPTED FROM "THE LASS

LIVINGSTONE,"

O'

Slow and with expression,

wert thou in the cauld

plaid

- ie

to

an

the

gry

On

blast,

yonder

lea,

on

yon-der

shel - ter

shelter thee, I'd

airt, I'd

lea,

My

thee.

*r

:..1L

bield should he

my

som,

To

J]

share

J-J^U-J-U-i

J J J

4-

it

a,'

^j
share

to

it

a'.

were I in the wildest waste,


Sae black and bare, sae black and bare,
The desert were a paradise
If thou wert there, if thou wert there.
Or were I monarch o' the globe,

Wi* thee to reign, wi' thee to reign,


The brightest jewel in my crown
Wad be my queen, wad be my queen.

WILL YE GO TO THE INDIES, MY MARY!


Air,

"The Ewe-bughts."

Slow and plaintive.

Will ye

go

to

the

Indies,

my

Mary? And leave auld

Sco-tia's shore ? Will

ye

=*:
go

to

the

Indies,

my

Ma - ry, A

cross the

go

to

the

Indies,

my

Ma

cross the

- rjf

At

At

Ian

- tic s

Ian-

roar?

tic's

v\

Hi

ye

roar?

sweet grow3 the lime and the orange,


the apple on the pine
a'

the charms

Can never equal

o'

my

plight me your faith,


Mary,
plight me your lily-white hand

And

And
But

plight

the Indies

me your

faith,

my

Mary,

Before, I leave Scotia's strand.

thine.

sworn by the heav'ns to my Mary,


sworn by the heav'ns to be true
And sae may the heav'ns forget me,
"When I forget my vow.

We

I ha'e

I ha'e

ha'e plighted our troth, my Mary,


In mutual affection to join
curst be the cause that shall part us,
The hour and the moment 0' time.
;

And

GAED A WAEFTT GATE YESTREEN.

"My only Jo and Deary,

Air,

0."

Tenderly.

gaed

gat

my

a wae-fu*

death

frae

Twaa not her gold-en

gate yestreen,

ring-lets bright,

&L

m
bo

som,

gate I

fear

I'll

twa sweet een, Twa laugh -in' een

*==fc
heaving

Her lips like

ros

dear-ly rue;

bon - nie

es

wet

blue.

wi' dew,

Her

E&EE~
li -

ly white, It

was her

een

sae

She talk'd, she smil'd, my heart she wil'd,


She charmed my heart, I wist na how
But aye the stound, the deadly wound,
;

Cam' frae her een sae bonnie blue.


But spare to speak, and spare to speed,
She'll aiblins listen to my vow;
Should she refuse I'll lay my dead
To her twa een sae bonnie blue.

bon

-nie

blue.

YOUNG JOCXIE WAS THE BLYTHEST

LAD.

Tenderly.

he

blythe

whist -led

light- lv danc'd he

gaud, Fu'

the

ha\

the

in

4^

He

my

rooe'd

my

aye

een, sae

heart cam'

bon -me blue, He

my

to

roos'd

my waist, sae

mou',"\Vhen ne*er

gen

bo-dy

ty srna'

heard

or

An'

saw.

My

Jockie toils upon the plain,


Thro' wind an' weet, thro' frost an' snaw
An' o'er the lea I look fu' fain,
When Jockie's owsen hameward ca\
An' aye the night comes round again,

When in his arms he tak's me a'


An' aye he vows he'll be my ain,
As land's he has a breath to draw.

MABRIED
Air,

Wr A

SCOLDING WIFE.

"Maggie Lauder."

Liie'y.

ry~" =S
/

mar-ried wi' a

4s
'

\f.

made me

j
of

my

bear the

hea

to

my

com- fort

be

._.-.!

_4=t*
z

life,

vy

yoke,

it

spoke,

P
v

-P

=f

By

did

-*

' f

.JN

fa

wear-y

Nov -em-ber;

scold-ing wife, The fourteenth of

ts

one

un

^_p
And man-y

Now,

now

ru

*
=T

griefs

at

her

tZH^

member.

ly

life

She

Long

__

-ten-ded; Bu

is

end-

c.l.

;;

We

and twenty years


wife together
At length from me her course she steer'd,
And gone I know not whither.

Her body

Would

I rather think she

lived fall one

I could guess, I do profess,


and do not flatter
all the women in the world,

I never could

come

bestowed well,
does hide her

But sure her soul is not in hell,


The de'il would ne'er abide her.
is aloft,

And imitating thunder


For why ? methinks I hear

I speak,

Of

is

A handsome grave

As man and

her voice,
Tearing the clouds asunder.

at her.

LORD GREGORY.

^FV

=fc

zEES:

-*ttd-

mirk, mirk

-cr

this

is

T"

midnight hour, An'

jJ^:Sfe
loud

the

tem-pest's roar

?=3E
1
1

wae

- fu'

wand

- 'rer

seeks thy tow'r,

^a=
Lord

Greg

*
- 'ry

Lord Greg'ry, mind'st thou not the grove,

By bonnie Irvine-side,
When first I owned that virgin
I lang,

How

lang had denied

love,

aften didst thou pledge the vow,

Thou wad

for aye be mine ?


fond heart, itsel' sae true,
It ne'er mistrusted thine.

An'

my

Hard

is

thy heart, Lord Gregory,

An'

flinty is thy breast


dart of heav'n that flashest by,
O wilt thou give me rest
Ye must'ring thunders from above,
Your willing victim see
But spare and pardon my fause love

Thou

His wrangs

to

Heav'n an' me.

1
1

ope

^=

thy

'

door.

;;

10

FABEWELL TO THE BRETHREN OF


Air,

melt -

dieu! a heart- warm fond adieu!

trig heart,

and

ST.

JAMES'S LODGE, TABBOLTON.

"Good Night, and Jot be

brim

ml

wi'

Dear brothers

eye,

I'll

mind

ye

of

a'."

the

you

Oft have I met your social band,


And spent the cheerful, festive night
Oft, honoured with supreme command,
Presided o'er the sons of light.

And by that hieroglyphic bright,


Which none but craftsmen ever saw
Strong mem'ry on my heart shall write
Those happy scenes when far awa'.

May

freedom, harmony, and love,


Unite you in the grand design ;
Beneath th' omniscient eye above,

The glorious Architect divine.


That you may keep th' unerring line,
Still rising by the plummet's law,
Till order bright completely shine

Shall be

And

my

prayer

when

far awa'.

you, farewell! whose merits claim,


Justly, that highest badge to wear
Ileav'n bless your honour'd, noble name,
To masonry and Scotia dear.
last request permit me here,
When yearly ye assemble a',
One round, I ask it with a tear,
To him, the bard that's far awa*.

still,

mys-tic tie; Ye

though

far

a-wa\

;;

11

TO

MARY

Air, " Mary's

IN HEAVEN.
Dream" Old

Set

Lively.

Thou

ling'ring star, with less-'ning ray, That lov'st to greet the

the

in

day,

zM=

g^gEEgEp^t
Ma-ry, dear

de

part-ed shade,

^zrp=

Where

is

ry from

thy place of

^^^^m& 3

low

er

ly

laid? Hear'stthou

To live one day of parting love


Eternity can not efface
Those records dear of transports past
Thy image at our last embrace,
Ah little thought we 'twas our last.
!

Ayr, gurgling, kiss'd his pebbled shore,


O'erhung with wild woods thick'ning green
The fragrant birch, the hawthorn hoar,
Twin'd am'rous round the raptur'd scene.
The flowers sprang wanton to be prest,
The birds sang love on ev'ry spray
Till too, too soon, the glowing west
Proclaimed the speed of winged day.

my mem'ry wakes,
fondly broods with miser care

Still o'er these scenes

Time but th' impression stronger makes,


As streams their channels deeper wear.

My

Mary, dear departed shade,

Where

thy place of blissful rest ?


thy lover lowly laid ?
thou the groans that rend his breast ?

is

See'st thou
flear'st

bliss - ful

qc

:*r:

rest ? See'st

q=

the groans that rend his breast?

The sacred hour can I forget,


Can I forget the hallow'd grove
Where by the winding Ayr we met,

And

was torn.

soul

^=3=tt* *=+=7

E^=E

thou thy lov

mU=j=QTfTV=&U&*4l
My
my

=3=igain thou ush'rest

morn A-

ear - ly

12

THE BIEKS OF ABERFELDY.


With animation.

Ben -

nie

las - sie,

sim-mer blinks on

let

go

ye

To

the birka

mi

will

flow'-ry

of

And

the

o'er

In

crys

the birka

tal

Now

of

The braes ascend like lofty wa's,


The foaming stream deep roaring

dy.

fa's,

O'erhung wi' fragrant spreading shaws,


birks of Aberfeldy.

cliffs

are crowned wi' flowers,

While o'er the linns the burnie pours,


And, rising, weets wi' misty showers
birks of Aberfeldy.

Let fortune's

gifts at

random

They ne'er shall draw a wish


Supremely blest wi' love and
Iu the birks of Aberfeldy.

flee,

frae
thee,

me

Corn

In the birks of Aberfeldy.

The

dy

streamlet plays

The little birdies blythely sing,


While o'er their heads the hazels hing
Or lightly flit on wanton wing

Thy hoary

- fel -

E^

braes,

us spend the light-some days

The

ber

ber

Ml

13

TAM GLEN.

My

heart

is

breaking, dear

Some

tit-tie!

To

len';

what

will

an

-V
fal -

rich

low,

do

In

them

ger

wi'

Tam

es

wal

low,

me come

vrV

But

ty,

sic'

braw

7-

'

If

My

pi

think -in*

I'm

might mak*

- tith

is

a'

Glen?

'

'

poor

- to

jgpg=^

=s3^E
^N

fcfr:

un

coun-sel

fen\

What

maun-na

mar

care

ry

Tam

in

Glen.

forsake him,
Drumeller,
11
He'll gie me gude hunder merks ten;
Gude day to you," coof, he comes ben
But, if it's ordain'd I maun tak' him,
He brags and he blaws o' his siller,
But when will he dance like Tam Glen ? O wha w ill I get but Tam Glen ?
Yestreen, at the valentines dealin',
minnie does constantly deave me,
heart to my mou' gied a sten*;
And bids me beware o' young men
For thrice I drew ane without failin',
They flatter, she says, to deceive me
Glen?
Tam
And
thrice it was written
sae
o'
Tam Glen.
think
wha
can
But

There's Lowrie, the laird o

daddie says, gin

I'll

My

My

The

last Halloween I was waukin*


My drookit sark sleeve, as ye ken
His likeness cam' up the house staukin',
And the very gray breeks o' Tam Glen.
Come, counsel, dear tittie, dont tarry;
I'll gie ye my bonnie black hen,
Gif ye will advise me to marry

The

lad I lo'e dearly,

Tam

Glen.

;;;

14

MY

HEART'S IN THE HIGHLANDS.

The first four lines of this song belong


The others were added by Burns.

My heart's

the High-lands,

in

chas-ing

High-lands

fol-low-ing the

Fare

well

to

the

val - our,

ev

er

the

rove,

The

heart

heart's in

the

not

is

worth,

of

the

ing

High-lands wher

the

Wher

My

here,

chas

fare - well to

cf

hills

"Strong Walls of Derry. M

ballad, called the

deer:

Highlands,

coun-try

an old

Tune Failte na niiosg.

my

the

My

roe;

to

ev

Highlands

north,

heart's in

wild deer, and

the

ev

The

er

ev

wan

mountains high cover' d with snow;


and green valleys below
to the forests and wild hanging woods
to the torrents and loud pouring floods.
heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here,
heart's in the Highlands a chasing the deer

Farewell
Farewell
Farewell
Farewell

to the

to the straths

My
My
A chasing the wild deer, and following the roe
My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go.

er

go.

birth-place

for

the

er

- der,

of

wher-

love.

DUET:-0 GIN

MY

LOVE.

Arranged as a Duet by Alexander Hume. The first verse


was written by Burns,

is

from Herd's MS., the other

/,

lat

gin

jlffetuoso,

gin

wa\ An'

my

love were

yon

red rose, That grows up

on

yon

cas - tie

my

love were

yon

red rose, That grows up

on

yon

cas - tie

my - sel*

drap

my-sel'

drap

o'

dew, In

- to

her bon

nie breast to

o'

dew, In

- to

her bon

nie breast to

fa*.

^=^m^m^m

there be-yond ex -pres-sion blest, I'd feast on beau -ties

beau -ties

there be-yond ex -pres-sion blest, I'd feast on

on

her

silk

saft faulds to

rest,

Till fley'd

on

her

silk

saft faulds to

rest,

Till flev'd

a'

a'

by Phoe

- bus'

light.

wa'

by Phoe

light

my love yon lilac fair,


Wi' purple blossoms to the spring,
I a bird to shelter there,

When wearied on my little wing


How would I mourn when it was torn,
By autumn wild and winter rude
Eat

wad

When

sing on wanton wing,

youtlifu'

May

its

the night ; Seal'd

wa'

were

And

the night; Seal'd

bloom renewed.

bus'


16

HAD
Air,

CAVE.

"Robix Adair.'

Erprtssive.

Had

a cave on some

wild, distant shore,

There would I weep my woes, There seek

my lost repose

;'

Where the winds howl

Till

grief

my

to the

eyes should

waves' dashing roar,

close, Ne'er to

wakemore.

womankind, canst thou declare,


All thy fond, plighted vows, fleeting as air?

Falsest of

To thy new lover hie,


Laugh o'er thy perjury,
Then in thy bosom try

What

peace

is there.

AYE MY WIFE SHE DANG ME.


Lively.

gi'e

On

ne-ver

wo - man

and

peace

hon

est

a'

rest

her

my

man's

Some

will,

Guid

mind was

in - tent

faith, she'll

bent,

As

And fool

cur

I was,

sed

o' comfort still at last,


a thir days are dune, man
pains o' hell on earth are past,
I'm sure o' heaven aboon, man.
O aye my wife, &c.

share

When

My

soon

ly

o'er -

gang

ye.

married; But

mis

car

ricd.

33
Sair do
Sair do

hope

denied me,
abide me
fortune should fate us to sever,

fear that to

I fear

But though fell


Queen shall she be
Mary, I'm thine

in

my

is

maun

that despair

bosom

for ever.

wi' a passion sincerest,

thou hast plighted me love o' the dearest


thou'rt the angel that never can alter,
Sooner the sun in his motion shall falter.

And
And

TIIEES

was

There

what-na

style,

rov

lad

doubt

^-3=
nice

WAS A LAD WAS BOBN


was

born in

hard

it's

ly

=pi
wi'

lio

bin.

For

what-na

But

worth the

while

day,

To

bo

in'

boy,

boy;

ran

gossip keekit in his loof,

Quo' scho, wha lives will see the proof,


This waly boy will be nae coof,
I think well ca' him Robin.
For Robin was a rovin' bov, &c

bin

was

- tin',

rov

sae

Hi
A

-fct

Ro

Our monarch's hindmost year but ana


Was five-and-twenty days begun,
'Twas then a blast o' Janwar' win'
Blew hansel in on Robin.
For Robin was a rovin' boy, &c.

The

Kyle,

IN KYLE.

In'

He'll hae misfortunes great and sma',


But aye a heart aboon them a';
He'll be a credit till us a',
"We'll a' be proud o' Robin.

For Robin was a rovin' boy, &c.

But
I see

sure as three times three


by ilka score and line,

mak'

nino,

This chap will dearly like our kin',


So leeze me on thee, Robin.
For Robin was a rovin' boy, &a

34

THE SMILING SEEING.


to

"Bonnie Bell " was written for "Johnson's Museum;" Burns likewise contributed the fine air
which the verses are adapted. "Bonnie Bell " is not, by any means, a first-class production

(for Burns),

but

we may remark,

that in a

was less careful than in those intended


Burns as we find him, and be thankful

bon

nie blue

are

sun

the

number

ny

Fresh

skies.

E f-ftf !jng

fcfc

forth the morn-ing,

The

ev'n-ing gilds the

c
re

sun's

turn

- ing,

And

flow'ry spring leads sunny summer,


And yellow autumn presses near;

The

When

comes gloomy winter,

in his turn

H-Jr;

=fs ^=
re

us take

let

the moun-tains breaks

o'er

However,

o-cean's swell; All creatures joy in the

r-fc~^

j^=g

"Museum," he

of his contributions to the

Mr. Thomson's collection.

for

- joice

:z5=

my

in

bon

-j
-

nie

Ja

Bell.

Thus

seasons dancing, life advancing,


Old time and nature their changes tell

But never ranging,

Till smiling spring again appear.

I adore

HOW LONG AND DREARY

IS

my

still unchanging,
bonnie Bell.

THE NIGHT.

Gaelic Air.

j1

How

j. b

long and drea

kr
the

ry

i
night,

When

am

frae

my

^smmzm^

ilrifc
dear

^4=^

*T=2

eV 0_j

.p_n_L,

sleep- less

lie

frac

e'en

to

morn, Tho'

z.

were ne'er sae

35
-*-N-

wea-ry,

When

sleep-less

e'en

frae

lie

How

on the happy days


my deary
And now what lands between us lie,
How can I be but eerie?
I think

It

lands, &c.

LASSIE

were ne'er sae wea-ry.

slow ye move, ye winged hours,

As ye were wae and weary

I spent wi' you,

And now what

lomorn,Tho'

WP THE

was na sae ye glinted by


AY hen I was wi' my deary.
It was na sae, &c,

LINT-WHITE LOCKS.
Air Rothiemurchus'

>
Las

Now

na

fcs

- sie

wi

And when
Has

:^=fcg=
the

lint -

ture deeds the

wilt thou share its

Rant.

=^=q*r

1>

joys

flow'-ry

lea,

And

me,

wi*

the welcome simmer shower

cheer'd ilk drooping

nie

las -

my

say thou'lt he

Disturbs

to

dear

- ie,

0.

haineward way,
Thro' yellow waving fields we'll straj

And

lassie's

my

las - sie,

lights, wi' silver ray,

talk

o' love,

the howling wintry blast

my

Enclasped

- less

shearer's

&c

And when

art

young and sweet like thee;

is

a'

"When Cynthia

We'll to the breathing woodbine bower


At sultry noon, my dearie, 0.

I'll

And

The weary

little flower,

Lassie wi',

zi=HT=i=iz

white locks, Bon

midnight

rest,

faithful breast,

comfort thee,

my

dearie,

0.

Lassie wi', &c.

my dearie, 0.
Lassie wi', &c.

THE WEARY PTOB

TOW.

0'

Moderate.
***

Kg

fa__|

The

K&

i4

ry pund,

think

=f

zfrznz

my

bought

my

the

wife will

wife

KTT

wea

end

her

life

Be

- fore

As

lint,

And

wea

T.he

a'

ry

pund,
s

made

that she has

wea

the

think

my wife

will

that

_^

end

her

>;_p

Be

sat a bottle in a bo!e,

Be}*ont the ingle low


And aye she took the tither souk,
To drouk the stourie tow.
The weary pund, &c.

Quoth I, " For shame, ye dirty dame,


Gae spin } our tap o' tow ;"
She took the rock, and \vi' a knock,
She brak' it o'er my pow.
The weary pund, &c.
T

as

e'er

ry

o'

tow.

did

tow.

pund

o*

^-h

fore she spin her

Begin the succeeding verses at the mark

There

she spin her

wca

1~
life

^
F-

pund

ry

acpuirpundo'

Is

pund, The

ry

S=qzzqsqprg
1

tow

o'

^- (Lzrtzjzjz^t:

z!z=t=fcr

grow:

-a

guid

EE^E^ES

fe

-.

l^H

IC
o'

wea

pund, The

ry

1-

-^

etane

--

.rg-g

fci^z

wea

tow;

tow.

37

At

last her feet, I

Gaed foremost

And

wad

or I

I'll

sang

to see't,

o'er the

knowe

anither jad

wallop in a tow.

The weary pund, &c.

CA'

THE EWES TO THE ENOWES.

Slowly, with great expression.

Ca'

the ewes

whaur the

to

burn-ie

the knowes, Ca'

My

rows,

them whanr the heath - er grows,

bon-nie

F&=
month

o'

June,

'Twas in

clear -ie.

d=

the

Ca' them

bon-nie

zazzzzr^i

When

wools

the

bout

us

hung;

When

the

EEElfe*
ow'rs were

their

bloom. The

night

in - gale

Will ye gang down the water side.


And see the waves sae sweetly glide?
Beneath the hazels spreading wide,

The moon

it

shines fn' clearly.

Ca' the ewes, &c.

While waters wimple to the sea


While day blinks in the lift sae
Till clay-cauld death shall blind

Ye

shall be

my

dearie.

Ca' the ewes,

&c

hie

my

e'e,

sang

clear -

lr.

TEE GLOOMY NIGHT

GATH'RING FAST.

IS

Air, "Roslin Castle."


Slow

md ivilh feeling.

====

fc^e:

t=m

^-

l^The gloom-y night

mur - ky

The

here

cloud

hunter

is

gath-'ring

with

foul

is

now has

fast,

wl

_:

see

rain, I

care,

_T zazbf-'ipzt^ipz^:
1
_
1

Loud roars the wild,

the moor, The

left

press'd

wan-der,

-/-^-

The autumn mourns her

driv

it

scatter'd co

long

the

ripening

in

lone

ly

com

By

early winters ravage torn;


Across her placid azure sky,

She

sees the scowling tempest fly.

Chill runs

my

blood to hear

it

rave,

upon the stormy wave,


Where many a danger I must dare,
Far frae the bonnie banks of Ayr.
I think

'Tis not the surging billows roar,

'Tis not that fatal deadly shore;

Though death in every shape appear,


The wretched have no more to fear!
But round my heart the ties are bound,
That heart transpierced with many a wound
These bleed

To

afresh, those ties I tear,

leave the bonnie banks of Ayr.

Farewell, old Coila's hills and dales,

Her heathy moors and winding vales;


The scene where wretched fancy roves,
Pursuing past, unhappy loves!

Yon

o'er the plain.

veys meet

Ett

constant blast

se-cure "While
;

hanks of Ayr.

;:

: !

89
Farewell, my friends, farewell, my foes,
peace with these, my love with those:
The bursting tears my heart declare

My

Farewell, the bonnie banks of Ayr.

A MAN'S A MAN FOE

there

Is

?#=3=

fLd

ard

we

slave,

=8

iH-

We

by,

=ts=

=*
be

dare

and

that,

a'

that,

a'

rank

' p
C

'

Jf_gF
but

is

the

gui

\
-

poor for

ob-scure,

toils

|~y
p-o =P=
P
p=5 P L_tz_

What though

on namely fare we dine,


Wear hoddin grey, and a' that
Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine,
A man's a man for a' that
a' that,

and

Their tinsel show, and


The honest man, though
Is king
see

o'

yon

Wha

men

a'

and

e'er sae poor,

and

and

a'

Though hundreds worship


He's but a coof for

a'

For a' that, and a' that


His riband, star, and

The man

He

of independent

The

that

at his word,
that

a'

that,

mind
a' that.

that!

-J

The

that;

a'

h~
rs

frf
9 LI

*--#- wj

man's the gowd

that

for

A prince can mak' a belted knight,


A marquis, duke, and a' that
!

a' that,

and

a' that,
a'

that

The pith o' sense, and pride


Are higher ranks than a'
let

us pray that

As come

it will,

May

come

o'

worth,

that.
it

may,

for a' that,

That sense and worth,

o'er a' the earth,

bear the gree, and

a'

that

and a' that,


It's coming yet, for a* that,
That man to man, the warl' o'er,
For

looks and laughs at

I^fs

But an honest man's aboon his might,


Guid faith he maunna fa' that

Then

lord,

stare3,

a'

Their dignities, and

that;

for a' that.

birkie, ca'd

struts,

For

a' that,

-ps

-=a=

Our

nea's stamp,

tt

jfc5t-r-=?
i-=2

Ye

1"

For

For

_a _

a=

tt

him

pass

that? The

ty That hangs his head, and a*

ft

tf

cow

ho - nest po -ver

for

=ts=

THAT,

A'

a' that,

Shall brithers be for

a' that.

; ;

40

MY BONNIE

HERE'S TO THY HEALTH,

LASS.

Am, "Laggan Burs."

^mm

With feeling.

^mHere's

to

thy health, my bonnie

come nae mair

-v

Guid

thy bow'r door, To

night,

tell

and joy

that

thee

na

think,

my

pret

pink, But

ty

can

m
\o^

lo'e

live

-with

I'll

thee.

out thee

=tc
and fwear

thee ;

wi'

nm

rf

din

to

lass,

din

na care

How

lang

ye

look

bout

Thou'rt aye sae free informing me


Thou hast nae mind to marry;
be as free informing thee
Nae time ha'e I to tarry.
I ken thy friends try ilka means
Frae wedlock to detain thee
Depending on some higher chance,
But fortune may betray theo.
I'll

I ken they scorn

my low

estate,

But

that does never grieve


For I'm as free as ony he,

me;

Since siller will relieve me.


I'll count my health my greatest wealth,
Sae lang's I can enjoy it
I'll fear nae scant, I'll bode nae want,
As lang's I get employment.

But

far-aff fowls ha'e feathers fair,

And

aye until ye try them

Though they seem fair, still ha'e a care,


They may prove bad as I am.
But at twal at night, when the moon shines

My
For

dear,

the

Nae

I'll

man

travel

come and

see thee

that lo'es his mistress weel,

makes him weary.

bright,

ye.

!;

41

Wt LO?E

IS

LIKE A RED, RED ROSE.


Air Lew down

my

-3-

is

like

love

in the

Broom.

my

red rose, That's newly sprung in June!

red,

ESE

"

"

-W-

love

is

like

mel

thou,

my

'*

P
-

dy, That's sweet-ly

-N

still,

still,

my

my

bon

y.

nie

J- J

dear, Till

dear,

So

lass,

Till

the

deep

in

seas

gang

1__Z
a*

H~u-^-LL?=*=.

'y

play'd

tune!

in

fair

art

will

love

theo

ft

love

am

And

I;

a'

the

Till a' the seas

dry.

seas

gang

Till

gang

dry,

a*

dear,

rocks melt wi' the sun


love thee, still, my dear,
While the sands of life shall run.
But, fare-thee-weel, my only love
fare-thee-weel awhile
And I will come again, my love,

Tho' 'twere ten thousand mile.


Tho' 'twere ten thousand mile, my
Tho' 'twere ten thousand mile
;

I will

come again,

my

love,

Tho' 'twere ten thousand mile.

seas

gang

dry,

my

'twere ten thous-and mile.

dry.

my

the

And the
And I will

And

As

love,

E
42

WAS UPON A LAMMAS

IT

NIGHT.

Written by Burns Air, "Corn Rigs."


"The rigs o' barley " is one of Burns's earliest productions, and written to the old tune of " Corn
Of the history of this air little is known. It appears in Adam Craig's collection, 1730, but
must then have been a well known tune, for in Ramsay's " Gentle Shepherd," published in 172-%
the song "My Patie is a lover gay," is directed to be sung to " Corn riggs." Of the original song
to this tune, the following lines form the chorus :
corn riggs and rye riggs
rigs."
it

And corn riggs are bonnie,


And gin you meet a bonnie lass,
Prin up her cockernony.

was

It

Lam-mas

upon

night,

When

corn rigs

are

bon-nie,

t^=f=s

_M-.f-*

Death the moon's un

cloud

ed

light,

held

=^-=
.^t

The time flew

- ly,

0,

bar -ley,

^_j

by

-^

tent

mtft

^ta=t
ear

Corn rigs

and

~tJ
heed,

less

Wi' sma' per-sua-sion


tiiorus.
Chorus.
-^

0.

An

wa'

3=e=
it

Be-

bar

Till

'tween

the

- nie,

0.

and

late

f[ft&fl i&f?m
greed To

she

see

me

through the

p*

ley rigs,

Corn rigs

are

bon-nie, 0;

I'll

feEJg^g^gSiBJgggg^
ne'er

that

forget

hap

py

The sky was blue, the wind was still,


The moon was shining clearly, O;
down wi' right guid-will,

I set her

Amang

the rigs

o'

barley, 0.

night

mang

the

rigs wi'

An

I ken't her heart was a' my am;


I lov'd her most sincerely,
I kiss'd her owre and owre again,
;

Amang

the rigs

Corn

rigs,

o'

&c.

barley, 0.

nie,

0.

I lock'd her in my fond embrace


Her heart was beating rarely,
blessings on that happy place,

I ha'e been blythe wi'

comrades dear*
been merry drinkin',
I ha'e been joyfu' gath'rin' gear;
I ha'e been happy thinkin', 0.
But a' the pleasures e'er I saw,
Though three times doubled fairly,
That happy night was worth them u',
Amang the rigs o' barley, 0.
I ha'e

My

Amang

the rigs

o'

barley,

Cut by the moon and

O.

stars sae bright,

That shone that hour sae clearly, 0,


She aye shall bless that happy night,

Amang

the rigs

Corn

rigs,

o'

barley, O.

Corn

&c.

THE BRAES

0'

&c.

rigs,

KILLIECEANKIE.

Old Song, altered by Burns.


The battle of Killiecrankie, between the forces of King William the Third, under General Mackay, and the clans, commanded by Dundee (Graham of Claverhouse), was fought on the 27th of
July, 1G89. The Highlanders were victorious, but the death of Claverhouse, who fell early in the
action, prevented them following up their advantage. Killiecrankie is a mountain pass in Athole,
near the junction of the Tummel and Garry.
,

With

spirit.

lft

ha'e ye

been

sae

braw, lad, Cam'

Kil

wad na be

ye had seen what

ha'e seen

I've faught on land, I've faught at sea,

At name I faught my aunty,


But I met the deevil and Dundee

On

the braes

o'

Killiecrankie, 0.

An' ye had been, &c.

On

the

braes

- lie -

crank

sae

cantie,

Kil

o'

The bauld Pitcur

- ie,

- lie -

fell

On

crank-ie,

in a fur,

Claver's got a clankie,


had fed an Athole gled
the braes

o'

An'

0;

And
Or

An*

Killiecrankie, 0.

An' ye had been, &c.

0.

44

WILLIE BREW'D A PECK


Arranged for

tiiis

Work

0'

HATJT.

by A. Hume.

Tins well known convivial song was written by Burns, and sot to music by Allan Masterton,
In 1789.
William Nicol of the High School of Edinburgh, Allan Mnsterton. writing master, and
a very fair musician, and the poet himself, were the three worthies alluded to in the versos.
Nicol, by the advice of Bums, had purchased the small fann of Laggan, in Nithsdale, where he
spent the vacation of 1789- Masterton, who was then on a visit to Dalswinton, and Burns, wen*
" We had such a joyous meeting," says the bard,
to pay him a visit, and warm his new house.
"that Mr. Masterton and I agreed, each in our own way, to celebrate the business. The air
is Masterton's, the song is mine."
William Nicol died in 3797, and Allan Masterton, the last of
the "three good fellows," in or about 1S00. A sequel to this song, in every way worthy of the
original, written by John Struthers, author of "The Poor Man's Sabbath," and published in
"The Harp of Caledonia," Glasgow, 1S19, is here appended.
.

Cheerfully.

pree, Three blyth-er


m

hearts that

lee-Ian gr

Air.

Chris-tendie.

Chorus.

rtS=
We
^ Tenor.

aftfe
Bass.

We

H^

are nae fou, we're

are nae fou, we're

that

no

that

full,

fou,

But just a

wee drap

St-& -*T
33

3-2
*-.But just a

wee drap

:t=bf:

&*-.

ii^HsPJ
d;iy

inoure'e;Tho

inoure'e;The

H=3=q=i
-4 *

may

daw, But

aye we'll taste the

bar-ley-bree.

may

daw, But

aye we'll taste the

bar-ley-bree.

3q

pf\i

^^

J-Jt-J^T

; :

45
Here are we met three merry boys,
Three merry boys I trow are we

She shines sae bricht

But by

We

are nae fou, &c.

moon I ken her hom,


That's blinkin' in the lift sae hi'e

It is the

my

We

And mony a nicht we've merry been,


And mony mae we hope to b^.

to wile us hame,
sooth she'll wait a wee

are nae fou, &c.

Wha first shall rise to gang awa',


A cuckold, coward loon is he
Wha last beside his chair shaii fa',
He

is

amang

the king

"We are nae

CfBEEN GK0Y7
There
quite

lit

THE HASHES,

an old song to this tune beginning, "We're


for "ears polite."

is

a'

us three.

fou,

&&

0.

dry wi' drinkm'

o't."

It is not,

however,

Lively.

There's nought but care on ev'-ry han', In

sweet-est

The warldly

And

hours that

e'er

may riches chase,


still may fly them,

spend Are

race

riches

last they catch them fast,


Their nearts can ne'er enjoy them, 0.
Green grow, &c.

An' though at

Gi'e

me

My

a cannie hour
arms about my

at e'en,
dearie,

An' warldly cares an' warldly men

May

a'

gae tapsalfeerie, 0.
Green grow, &c.

ev'-ry hour

that

pas-ses,

What

0;

spent

For you sae douce, wha sneer at this,


Ye 're nought but senseless asses,
;
The wisest man the warld e'er saw

Ke

dearly lo'ed the lasses, 0.


Green grow, &c.

Auld nature swears, the lovely dears,


Her noblest work she classes,
Her prentice ban' she tried on man,
An' then she made the lasses, 0.
;

Green grow, &c.

4G

LAST

MAY A BBAW WOOER

CAM'

DOWN THE LANG

GLEN.

Written by Burns Aie, " The Queen o' the Lothians cam' Cruising to Fife."
This lively song was written by Burns for the second volume of Johnson's " Museum." It was
not, however, inserted there.
In the meantime the poet revised it, and sent it to Mr. George
Thomson's collection, in the second volume of which it appears, and soon became very popular.
Though the alterations are by no means improvements, we give the second edition, as it is the
one most generally sung. The tune called "The Queen of the Lothians " is very old, and adapted
to a ballad

beginning,

The queen

o' the Lothians cam' cruising to Fife,


Fal de ral, lal de ral, lairo
To see gin a wooer would tak' her for life,

Sing hey, fal lal de ral, fal do


Hey, fal lal de ral, laird

ral, lal

Lively.

him

to

be

- lieve

me, be-lieve me, The deuce gae

He spak' o' the darts o' my bonnie black


And vow'd for my love he was deem'
I said he micht dee

The guid
The guid

forgi'e
forgi'e

when he

me
me

A weel stockit mailin',

bo

licve

een,

liked for Jean,

for leein', for leein',


for leein'.

himsel' o't the laird,

And

marriage aff hand, was his proffer


I never loot on that I kenn'd it or cared,
But thocht I micht ha'e a waur offer, waur
But thocht I micht ha'e a waur offer.

But what do you think? in a fortnight or


The de'il's in his taste to gang near her;

offer,

less,

He's up the Gateslack to my black cousin Bess,


Guess ye how, the jaud, I could bear her, could bear her,
Guess ye how, the jaud, I could bear her.

But

a' the next week, as I fretted wi' care,


gaed to the tryst o' Dalgamock
And wha but my braw fickle wooer was there?
AVha glower'd as if he'd seen a warlock, a warlock,
AYha glower'd as if he'd seen a warlock.

de

ral,

47

my left shouther I gi'ed him a blink,


Lest neighbours micht say I was saucy
wooer he caper'd as he'd been in drink,
And vowM that I was his dear lassie, dear lassie,
And vow'd that I was his dear lassie.

Out owre

My

I spier' d for

my

Gin she had

And how my

auld shoon

Guid sauf us, how he


Guid sauf us, how he

He

begged

Or

for

kill

her shauchled feet,


a swearin', a swearin',
a swearin'.

fell

him

wad

maun wed him


maun wed him

I think I

AS

CAM'

be his wife,

wi' sorrow

body

Sae, e'en to preserve the puir


I think I

sweet,

fitted
fell

guid-sake

wad

else I

and

cousin, fu' couthie

recover' d her hearin'

in

life,

to-morrow, to-morrow,
to-morrow.

DOWN BY YON

CASTLE WA\

the words and music of this song for Johnson's " Museum." Though he says
in his "Reliques" that this is a very popular song in Ayrshire, it does not appear in any collection prior to the "Museum." The air is very line.
(*
Moderate.
_
_.
_ 11

Bums furnished

~M
As

cam' down "by yon

5=*-

rpf
et

castle

ss?:

gill

wa\ And

in

by yon gar-den green,

li^ipiifiS^SIplI
there I spied a

bon-nie bon-nie

lass,

flow'r borders

were

us

be-tween.

bonnie, bonnie lassie she was,


ever mine eyes did see

Talk not so very high, bonnie

hundred pounds wad I gi'e,


To ha'e sic a bonnie bride as thee.

The man

As

But the

five

To ha'e sic a bonnie bride as me,


Young man ye are sairly mista'en
Though ye were king o' fair Scotland,
I wad disdain to be your queen.

lass,

talk not so very, very high

wad sell, [buy.


the man that wad

at the fair that

He maun

learn at

I trust to climb a far higher tree,

And herry a far richer nest


Tak' this advice o' me, bonnie
Humility wad

set thee best.

lass,

48

WHISTLE AND

I'LL

COME TO YOU, MY LAD.

Written by Burns.

Who

shall decide when doctors disagree ?"


Ireland has claimed this tune as exclusively her
it has long been known in the sister isle under the name of "Noble Sir Arthur,"
A. Smith (no mean authority) seems to have allowed the claim, by giving it a place in
'The Irish Minstrel," a selection from the vocal melodies of Ireland, published by Purdie of
Edinburgh. Again, the tune is said to have been composed by John Bruce, a fiddle player in
Dumfries. In proof of this Burns says, "This I know, Bruce, who was an honest man, though a
red wud Highlander, constantly claimed it, and by all the old musical people here (viz., Dumfries),
he is believed to be the author of it." Burns, with whom the tune was a great favourite, wrote
two sets of verses for it, the first consisting of two stanzas only, written in 1787, for the " Museum,"
and the second, written in August, 1793, for George Thomson's collection.
insert the latter.
l

Own,indeed,
and

We

IHsii^^^^^i^p
?iJty,

BT-jJ.f J

to yon,

my

lad

my

g^^W

wins. tie and

come

I'll

to

you,

whis-tle

lad,

F^=
*>-* F-

-#

fiU

w^m

meet me, And

come na

on

the

JL
0O2n

back stile, and

:c

r
-

to

in'

r
me.

nee

less

bod- y

Q IC

J'

And como

as

whistle and
whistle and

Though

let

I'll
I'll

come
come

the

back vett

when ye

see,

J'

fl
were

to you,

my
my

Syne

SEfe

And corneas

ye

to you,

a-jee,

t\
na

ye

were

na

***n
com

lad,

lad;

and mither and a' should gae mad,


whistle and I'll come to you, my lad.
father

tent

-p- ;fcp:

E=j5S3=Ei^E2EE
z$=Az
np

33

U -Sj-

ly

to

come

should gae mad,

a'

==p=.
come

I'll

-fcfcig

Though fa-ther and mi-thcr and

s j0__L_

and

- In*

to

mo.

49

At kirk or at market, whene'er ye meet me,


Gang by ine as though that ye eared na a flie;
But steal me a blink o' your bonnie blaek e'e,
Yet look as ye were na lookin'
Yet look as ye were na lookin'

at

me,

at me.

I'll come to you, my lad,


whistle and I'll come to you, my lad
Though father and mither and a' should gae mad;

O
O

whistle and

whistle and

come

I'll

to you,

my

lad.

Aye vow and protest that ye care na for me,


And whiles ye may lightly my beauty a wee;

But

court na anither, though jokin' ye be,

For
For

fear that she wile


fear that she wile

DREAM'D

your fancy
your fancy

frae
frae

me,
me.

LAY WHERE FLOW'RS WERE SPRINGING.

Weitten by Burns.
Burns composed tins song when he was about seventeen. It is adapted to a fine air, harmonized
by Stephen Clarke. Stephen Clarke, an intimate friend of Burns, was organist of the Episcopal
Chapel, Cowgate, Edinburgh (now St. Patrick's Roman Catholic Chapel). He harmonized and
arranged the greater part of the airs in the first five volumes of Johnson's " Museum." He died
on the 6th of August, 1797.
Moderate.

dream 'd

lay

where

were springing, Gaily

flow'rs

V**=
List'ning

Straight the

Trees with

the

to

wild

sky grew black and

ged

<s

birds sing

dar

arms were

ing,

my

flow'ry bliss destroyed.

-e ~

the

sun

ny

beam;

By

Through the woods the

Avar- ring, O'er

Such was my life's deceitful morning,


Such the pleasures I enjoy 'd; [ing,
But lang or noon, loud tempests stormA'

ing,

in

Though

the

swel-ling

whirl -winds rave;

drun-lie wave.

has deceived me,


She promis'd fair, and perform'd but ill;
Of monv a joy and hope bereav'd me,
I bear a heart shall support me still.
fickle fortune

50

OF

THE

AIItTS

THE WIND CAN

" Miss

Written by BurnsAir,

BLA\7.

Admiral Gordon's Strathspey."

Burns,

it is believed, wrote no more than the first sixteen lines of this song.
(In "Johnson's
for which it was written, we find only the first two stanzas.)
William Reid, bookGlasgow, and John Hamilton, musicseller, Edinburgh, are said to have been, respectively,
the authors of the third and fourth, and the two concluding stanzas. As the additional verses
are now in a manner incorporated with Burns's, we insert them. We may remark that thouirh
Mr. Reid's verses have little to recommend them, the additions by Mr. Hamilton are a worthy
appendix to the original. The air, by William Marshall, butler to the Duke of Gordon, is adapted
from an old tune called "The Lowlands o' Holland."

Museum,"

seller,

Ji

Tenderly.

-^

1^-

9-m

Of

v
r
7P* >-^->-N-
W-)

e-;

the airts

d-^-^-flF

there the bon-nie las-sie

ri -

vers

row,

Wl'

e-

J-v- f

The

*
that

lass

ny

Lill

can blaw,

nv f-

lives,

mo

9
wind

tlie

dear

9
/

9-

lo'e best

be-tween;

lo'e the west;

For

o
*-

$--ft-

~f*"

V ~ -fc-

f-

<l^-i

ly

=*=

Though wild woods grow,

Baith

and night

day

an'

my

5^5
ttij-^:
e-ver with

fan-cy's flight Is

-y^-

love-lv, sweet,

fraj

an'

p^^^

my

fair;

Jean.

see her in

hear her voice in

II

ka

dew-y

the

bird,

Wl'

mu - sic charm

=*=

^F~9

iil^=iii=i3=E
air

There's

not

bon

3=? >NN^
green, Kor

yet

bon

"^

nie flow'r that springs

Die

By

Sue

flow'r,

the

i-^=-

foun-tain,

shaw,

me

my

or

N P

bird that sings,

But minds

o'

Jean.

51

[Upon the banks o' flowing Clyde


The lasses busk them braw
But when their best they ha'e put
My Jeanie dings them a'.
In hamely weeds she far exceeds
The fairest o' the town
Baith sage and gay confess it sae,
Though drest in russet gown.

blaw, ye westlin' winds, blaw

Amangthe

The gamesome lamb

that sucks

WF

gentle gale, frae muir and dab,


Bring haine the laden bees
An' bring the lassie back to me
That's aye sae neat an' clean;

on,

Ae

sparklin' dew,

o'

care,

Jean.

How

clearest hue,

To whom

In shape an' air, wha can compare


Wtf my sweet lovely Jean ?]
The

my

is

sighs an' vows amang the knowes


Ha'e past atween us twa;
fain to meet, how wae to part,
That day she gaed awa'.
The powers aboon can only ken,

Is like her shining e'en

wad banish

her

o'

What

Mair harmless canna be


She has nae faut, if sic ye ca't,
Except her love for me.

The

blink

Sae lovely

dam,

its

saffc

leafy trees:

this heart is seen,

That nane can be sae dear

As my sweet

to

me

lovely Jean.

verses between brackets are generally omitted in singing,

EPPIE ADAIR.
Burns contributed the words of this sons

own composition

or not

is

uncertain.

"Caledonian Pocket Companion," vol

to "Johnson's Museum," but whether they are his


lively air to which they are adapted appears in the

The
12.

Tenderly.
Tender

t
Ep - pie, "Wha wadna be hap - py

^_fl_ L

^u.

A-

e _u _j

dair?

:fc

Ey

love

--f?

to

be

true

to

my Ep - pie A

:JSg

-L- ^

and by

ty,

my

- a*I

law

wi'

and by

be

love

du

and by beau

- ty,

EEEE
true

to

my

Ep-pie

If e'er I beguile thee,

My

- ty,

By

^sm

-f^T-

swear to

Eppie, my jewel, my Eppie,


Wha wadna be happy wi Eppie Adair.
A' pleasure exile me,
Dishonour beule me,

An' 0,

By

dair.
I-

EiN
SfcHtfzjf=3=
-

=j--i-jJ
I

law

5:

and by beau-ty, By

gEgg
swear

fi- e

Eppie Adair.
A' pleasure,

&c

- dair.

ART THOU SLEEPING YET!

LASSIE,

Weitten by Burns.
This song, with the exception of the first four lines, which form the first stanza of the original,
was written for Thomson's collection, February, 1795. The tune, which is very old, was formerly
called M The new ^owne made."
Moderate*

tr

k
r
J
*

'/Iff

Tin

*F
<J

'

me hand and

in

Out owre

'

And

fit,

J
'

tf~

fain

be

*
would

"!

J
*

<d
in,

j
e
J

jo.

night, this

night

ae

riss

and

zfzzz*:
me
let

in,

Tak' pity on

And

my

weary

me frae
me in, &c

shield

0,

let

feet,

the rain, jo.

round me blaws,
Unheeded howls, unheeded fa's
The cauldness o' thy heart's the cause
O' a' my grief and pain, jo.
bitter blast that

O,

let

me

in.

&c.

HER ANSWER.
me na o' wind and
Upbraid na me wi' cauld
tell

the gate

winna

let

you

For

rain

disdain;

cam' again,

in, jo.

jo.

Thou hear'st the winter wind and wect


Nae star blinks through the driving sleet,

and dreary hour

The

Gae back

For

r^lg

night;

ae

this

And here I stand without the door,


Amid the pourin' storm, jo.
0, let me in, &c.

'

EEE22

the moss, out owre the muir,

I cam' this dark

P
|

would wit

-jPhP-

sake,

ty's

thou waukin'

art

Oi

a
H
u
r

night, This

ae

this

3^
-

-L-^^

me

pi

P
L
w-

*J

ii^
let

J
9

has bound

love

ar t thou sleeping yet?

las - sie,

I tell you now, this ae night,


This ae night, this ae night,
And, ance for a', this ae night,
I

winna

let

you

in, jo.

53

The

Let simple maid the lesson read,


The weird may be her ain, jo.
I tell you now, &c.

snellest blast, at mirkest hours,

That round the pathless wand'rer pours,


Is nought to what poor she endures,
That's trusted faithless man, jo.
I tell you now, &c.

The

The bird that charm'd his summer day,


Is now the cruel fowler's prey

sweetest flow'r that dcck'd the mead,


trodden like the vilest weed

Let

Now

woman

witless, trusting

How

aft

I tell

say,

her fate's the same, jo.


you now, &c.

THERE'LL NEVER BE PEACE TILL JAMIE COMES HAME.


Written by BurnsAir,

" There's

few Guid Fellows when

Jamie's

33
-&- !*=*=

AwaV

Mournfully.

=t
By

yon cas

wa\

- tie

=45

the

at

close

o'

iz+

the

day,

izfcii

heard a

mr.n

crz^znzpz

Et

zz
sing,

head

though his

it

=t=E
tears

down came,

was

gray;

And

Ft

Si

(LzMiz
be

There'll ne-ver

peace

he

as

was

Ja

mie comes

is in ruins, the state is in jars,


Delusions, oppressions, and murderous wars

daurna weel

say't,

There'll never be peace

but
till

we ken wha's to blame,


Jamie comes hame.

My

seven braw sons for Jamie drew sword,


I greet round their green beds in the yird
It brak' the sweet heart o' my faithfu' auld dame,
There'll never be peace till Jamie comes hame.

And now

Now

life is

Since I tint

But

till

my

a burden that bows me down,


my bairns, and he tint his crown
last

moments

There'll never be peace

till

my

ing

the

ipL^H
till

The church

We

sing

words are the same,


Jamie comes hame.

hame.

THE BLtJDE-REB ROSE AT YULE MAY BLAW.


Written by Burns Air, "To daunton me."
"The blude-red

may

rose at yule

bliiw" was. with the exception of the chorus, written for

"Museum" in 1787. The air, which is much older, appears in Oswald's "Pocket
Companion," 1740, also in M'Gibbon's "Collection of Scots Tunes," edited by Bremner, 1762.
"William M'Gibbon was a eroo composer, an excellent performer on th3 violin, and an industrious
collector and editor of Scots music.
He was for many years leader of the Gentlemen's Concerts
in Edinburgh. He died on the 3d of October, 175G.
Johnson's

^
The
"

blude-red

rose

may

yule

at

w*
auld

The

snaw,

man

shall

+M

frost

nev

may

thing you

j_^

ne'er

l__

lies

li

^_|

shall

see,

and

_L_L S

For an

auld

To

me.

But me he

shall not

man

buy nor

shall never

To daunton me,

daun - ton

LT

But

an

p_# _j

man shall ney

fee,

daunton me.
&c.

&

me,

=
f Lff

fiatt'-ring tongue,

may buy him kye and ewes,


may buy him glens and knowes,

For an auld

sea,

-P^==*?r:

For a' his meal and a' his rnaut,


For a' his fresh beef and his saut,
For a' his gowd and white monie,
An' auld man shall never daunton me.
To daunton me, &c.

His gear
His gear

- est

E^
daun-ton

his fause heart

deep

I-

33=t -

sae young, Wi'

mer

jt:

er

MEE5E *?
L_

sirn

the

freeze

zmt
me

The

|_3.

SS^:^:

=F
in

1^

=P3

f*~

bloom

blaw,

0-p.

er

and

That

\-y-p

^ -J_

daun - ton

me.

53

He

twa-fauld as he

liirples

Wi'

his teethless gab,

and

ciot?,

his auld held pow,

And

the rain rins down frae his red bleard


But an auld man shall never daunton me.
To daunton me, &c

WHAT CAN A YOUNG

LASSIE DO WI' AIT AULD

Wbitten BY

MAN 1

BURN'S.

This lively ditty was written by Burns for the third volume of Johnson's " Museum," 1790.
Dr. Blacklock (the blind poet) had previously written verses for the same tune, hut they were
considered too long for insertion. In Tom D'Urfey's "Pills to Purge Melancholy," 1703. there is
a song entitled "What shall a young woman do with an old man." However much we may
sympathize with a young lassie tied to "an auld man," we can barely approve of her resolution
to "cross him and wrack him until she heart-break him."
j^

Lively.

-Q

&

nt

zl
What

can

young

las-

sie,

what

shall

young

- sie,

las

v-

What can

-v:_- 5
las -sie

wi

do

1_

minnie

To

penny that

an auld man? Bad luck

^_^_a

sell

my

minnie To

pen

ny

sil

sell

ler

1
Ian';

her puir Jenny

Bad luck

for

sil

and he hankers, he frets and he cankers,


never can please him, do' a' that I can

He's peevish and jealous o' a' the young fellows,


O dool on the day I met wi' an auld man.
auld auntie Katie upon

my

me

tak's pity,

endeavour to follow her plan


I'll cross him, and wrack him, until I heart-break him,
And then his auld brass will buy me a new pan.
Til do

to

my

g
the

-ler an' Ian*.

He hums

My

zattz

:zN:
an

He's always compleenin' frae mornin' to e'enm',


He hosts and he hirples the weary day laug
He's doy'lt and he's dozin', his bluid it is frozen,
dreary's the nicht wi' a crazy auld man.
1

qv q^

tempted

that

e_:

@_i_e_L

her puir Jenny for

tempted

the

to

a young

56

HY HAKRY WAS A GALLANT

GA?.

Written by BurnsAir, "The Highlander's Lament."


Barns, in the " Reliques." says, "The oldest title I ever heard to this tune was 'The Highland
watch's farewell tu Ireland. The chorus 1 picked up from an oid woman in Dunblane, the rest of
the song is mine." In this note Burns alludes to the three first stanzas only; the other two were
added by a Mr. Sutherland. "Highland Harry," according to Mr. Peter Buchan, was a Harry
Lumsdale, who made love to a daughter of the Laird of Knocfchaspie. Burns and Sutherland have
nude the song a Jacolite one. In some versions " itonald " is substituted for " Harry."
1

Slowly.

==3t_a^-aV^=e^-i
My

Ilany

__
now

waa

5^5^=5-^-^-1^^

gallant

Oh,

ig^Jz{LI

stately strode

he o'er the plain; But

r^-jrr
he's

banish'd

Car

way,

ne

I'll

vcr

hirn back

see

gain.

Chorus.

Air.

feEE

Fu'

gay,

for

him

32?=^

IE
back

gain,

Oh,

3t?=*
for

him

back

him

back

gain;

2d Voice.

P ^SSL^
Oh,
BAS3.

for

him

-69
gam,

back

for

ase

H^-fH'r
ft iT

reft

X*

Ob,

S3=
ig;
a

gain

/-

^=f~

^3=^^318

tlT fr=fr^

wad

gi'e

a'

Knockhaspie's

land

For

Highland liar

ry

back

gain.

wad

gi'e

a'

Knockhaspie's

land

For

Highland Har -Ty

ba
back

gain.

c ',0-

f,

^-g

Tr- Vj^fr-%

-&

;
;

57

When

Sad was the day, and sad the hour,

the lave gae to their bed,


I wander dowie up the glen;
I sit me down and greet my fill,
And aye I wish him back again.
a'

He left me in his native plain, [join


And rush'd his much wrong'd prince to
;

come back again.


Oh, for him back again, &c.
Strong was my Harry's arm in war,
But, oh,

Oh, for him back again, &c.


were some villains hangit high,
And ilka bodie had their ain

Then

might

Unmatched on a' Culloden's plain


But vengeance marks him for her ain,
I'll never see him back again.
Oh, for him back again, &c

see the joyful sight,

ily Highland Harry back again.


Oh, for him back again, &c.

THIS
YTiUTTEN BY BUKNS

he'll ne'er

IS NO MY AIN
AlR, "0 THIS IS

LASSIE.
NO MY klS HOUSE."

This song was written in 1795 for Mr. Thomson's collection.


Livehj.

'j6*

wants

me

to

witchin*

the

grace,

The

Begin the succeeding verses with the second part of the Air, and end with the
She's bonnie, bloomin', straight, and

An' long has had my heart


An' aye it charms my very

The kind blink

thief sae

tall,

But gleg

When

in thrall
saul,

that's in her e'e.

this is

no

pawkie

is

my ain lassie,
my Jean

She'll steal a glance by

a*

unseen

&e.

first part.

as light are lovers' e'en,

kind love
this is no

is

in the e'e.

my

may
may

ain lassie, &c.

escape the courtly sparks,


It
escape the learned clerks
But weel the watchin' lover marks
The kind love that's in her e'e.
It

this is

no

my

ain lassie,

&c

Sessie

and her spinning wheel.

Written by Burns Air, "Sweet's the Lass that lo'es me."


This delightful picture of rural contentment was written by Burns for Johnson's "Museum,"
The air, by James Oswald, though of considerable compass, flows melodiously,
and is certainly more befitting the words than "The Bottom of the Punch Bowl," to which, in
some collections, the song is directed to be sung. James Oswald, a respectable composer and
collector of Scottish melodies, was, it appears, originally a dancing master in Dunfermline.
He
removed to Edinburgh about 1736, where he was employed as a teacher of music and dancing.
After a few years spent in the Scottish metropolis, he was induced to proceed to London, where
he entered iDto business as a musicseller and publisher. We cannot give the date of his death,
but we know he was a'ive in 1761. From an epistle to Oswald, written probably by Allan
Rarnsay, we extract a few lines to show the respect in which Oswald was held by his countrymen.
vol. iv., p. 371.

But wha can sing that feels wi' sae great pain,
loss for which Edina sighs in vain?
concerts now nae mair the ladies mind,
They've a' forgot the gate to "Niddery's Wynd."
11

******
******

The
Our

London, alas! which aye has been our bane,


To which our very loss is certain gain
;

envious of the

Still

Of Jamie Oswald

little

last

we had

our town bereft

PPS

:^4,0_#"^pp<:

me

on

my

&&&*,

33*

leeze

left,

spinning wheel,

leeze

me

on

my rock and reel Frae


;

-B-Ft

JflflU
tap to

tae

deeds

that

If'tCfff
I'll

sit

me down and

me

bein,

And

haps

me

fiel

and warm

at

e'en.

J^rghtt&^PrrTTtl
sing and spin, While laigh descends

the

simmer

sun, Blest

t5=F

zMigz
wi*

con

tent,

and

milk and meal,

On ilka hand the bnrnies trot,


And meet below my theekit cot
The

scented birk and h aw thorn white


Across the pool their arms unite.

leeze

me

on

my

spinning wheel

Alike to screen the birdie's nest.

And

little fishes' caller rest;

The sun blinks kindly In the biel,


Where bly the I turn my spinning wheel

50

Wi* sma* to sell, and less to buy,


Aboon distress, below envy
wha wad leave this humble state,

On lofty aiks the cushats wail,


And echo cons the dolefa' tale
The

lintwhites in the hazel braes,


Delighted, rival ither's lays.
The craik amang the clover hay,
The pairtrick whirring o'er the lea;
The swallow jinking round my shiel
Amuse me at my spinning wheel.

For

the pride

a'

Amid
Amid

o' a'

the great ?

their flaring, idle toys

cumbrous, dinsome joys;

their

Can they
Of Bessy

the peace and pleasure feel


at her spinning wheel ?

BLYTHE, BLYTHE AND MSEHY

WAS

SHE.

Written by Burks Air, " Andro and His Cutty Gun."J


U

Lhely.

w#*T*r&*+ *r*rt&i
i

Bly the, blythe and mer-ry was

Ie&^e
banks of

Earn,

she,

Elythe was she

3^5

And

Glen-tur-it

blythe in

i^_i_

jfEL

On

Yar-row

braes the

Than braes o' Yar-row

*zdfczte
:

but

and

shaw; But

ben Blythe by the


;

*=
By

Och-ter-tyre there grows the

==
Phem-ie

::

was

bon-nier

^pgg^ll^^^

-=*lass

bir-ken

glen.

&t

*=*aik,

but and

e-ver saw. Blythe, blythe and merry was she, Blythe was she

=\ES;

3S

ben; Bly the by

the banks

of

Earn,

Begin the succeeding verses

Her looks were like a flow'r in May,


Her smile was like a simmer morn
She tripped by the banks o' Earn,
As light's a bird upon a thorn.
Blythe, blythe,

Her bonnie face it was as meek,


As ony lamb upon a lea

&c

And

at the

blythe in Glen

mark

dfc*

33=

F=

-jt

tur

- it

glen.

'$'

The ev'ning sun was ne'er sae sweet


As was the blink o' Phemie's e'e.
Blythe, blythe, &c.

The Highland

hills I've

wander'd wide,

And o'er the Lawlands I ha'e been


But Phemie was the blythest lass
That ever trod the dewy green.
Blythe, blythe, &c.

60

WEBE HER

SAE FLAXEN

Written by Burns Irish

RINGLETS.

Air, " 0>'agh."

sorter Was written by Burns for Johnson's " Museum," vol. v., and adapted to the favourite
Onagh." In a letter to Mr. Thomson, dated Sept 1794, he says, " The air is charming,
have often regretted the want of decent verses to it. It is too much, at least for my humble
rustic muse, to expect that every effort of hers shall have merit still, I think that it is better to have
meliocre verses to a favourite air than none at all. On this principle I have all along proceeded
in the 'Scots Musical Museum,' and as that publication is at its last volume, I intend the
following song to the air above mentioned, for that work."
Before the fifth volume of the
" Museum " was published, poor Burns was no more. The Chloris of the song is said to have been
a Jean Lorimer of Craigieburn, Dumfriesshire.

This

Irish air, "

and

Her

'A
%J

smil

ing,

wil

sae

..

[r

ha
B,

'

J
f

\.

ing,

Wad

mak'

a wretch for

MM
i

ha
r
\j
/
Un

his

woe What
;

i-

i/

get

90

&

\s
l

s^mmz^m^g^^
plea -sure,

was

my

what

Chlo

trea-sure,

- ris'

bonnie

face,

)^^#^
aye

my

Chlo

- ris'

When

first

=fe
dear

- est

ro

those

to

charm, She

sy

bonnie

her

says

lips

face

grow. Such

to

she

lo'es

Like harmony her motion


Her pretty ankle is a spy,

Ilk feature

Hers are the willing chains of

Wad

mak' a saint forget the sky.


Sae warming, sae charming,
Her faultless form and gracefu* air

And

me

Betraying

fair proportion,

saw;

:fr=f:

auld nature
Declared that she could do nae mair.
love,

By conquering beauty' ssov' reign law;


And aye my Chloris' dearest charm,
She says she lo'es me best o' a*.

Gl
Let others love the

While falling, recalling,


The amorous thrush

city,

And gaudy show at sunny noon


Gi'e me the lonely valley,
The dewy

eve,

and

rising

[sang;
concludes hig

There, dearest Chloris, wilt thou rove,


By wimpling burn and leafy shaw,

moon

And hear my vows o' truth and


And sav thou lo'es me best o*

Fair beaming, and streaming


Her silver light the boughs amano

love,
a'.

I'LL AYE CA' IN BY YON TOWN.


Written by Burns Old Air, "I'll gang nae hair to Yon Town."
This favourite song, as well as "
wat ye wha's in yon town," was written by Burns in honour
of his Jean. The air, which is very fine, takes its name" from the first line of an old song-, beginning,
"I'll gang nae mair to yon town," It appears in Oswald's " Caledonian Pocket Companion," 1759

Lively.

X;;;;

aye

I'll

gppggiggigi

in

ca'

yen town, And

by

by yon garden green

again

111

-*

by

in

ca*

yon town, And

__^_

-*=\=
aye

my

see

bon

There's

gain.

-3*1=

:*=P=

P-

=13=

Jean

nie

=F
nane

shall ken, there's

nane shall guess, What brings me back the gate

a -gain; But

^qt--*=
she,

aye

my

ca'

in

3=3
aye

4=f
And

fairest, faith - fu'

by

town, And
-yon

I
|

ca'

in

lass,

by

yon

town,

we

stowlins

by
,

And

yon

gar

shall

meet

den

green

a -gain;

4-1see

my

wander by the aiken tree,


trystin' time draws near again

When

And when

gain.

I'll

I'll

1
bon

Begin the succeeding verse at the mark


She'll

nie

Jean

gain.

'$'*

her lovely form I see,


haith she's doubly dear again.
I'll aye ca', &c.

C2

AULD LANGSYNE.
Old An?, "I Fee'd a Lad at Michaelmas."

The Chorus arranged ey A. Hume.

In "Johnson's Museum," vol. i., No. 26, there is a song written by Ramsay, beginning, "Should
auld acquaintance be forgot, Though they return with scars?" Both words and music, however,
The second and third verses only of the world-famed " Auld Langsyne "
are below mediocrity.
were written by Burns. The poet himself admitted to Johnson that such was the fact In the
"Reliques," Burns, alluding to Ramsay's song of "Auld Langsyne," says, "Ramsay, as usual
with him, has taken the idea of 'Auld Langsyne from the old fragment, which may'be seen in
the "Museum " (Johnson's), vol. v. And in a letter to Mr. Thomson, September, 1 f 93, he says,
*'One song more, and I am done 'Auld Langsyne.' The air is but mediae? e; but the following
song, the old song of the olden times, and which has never been in print, nor even in manuscript,
until I took it down from an old man's singing, is enough to recommend any air." Mr. Thomson
afterwards got the words arranged to an old Lowland melody entitled, " I fee'd a lad at Michaelmas."
'

mind; Should auld

ac-quain-tance

he

for - got,

And days

lang

o'

syne?

Chorus after each Verse.

3&fc
auld lang -syne,

my

dear, For

cup

syne,

my

dear,

For

auld lang -syne; "We'll tak' a

cup

o'

t=SS=
*&& PEE
=a T e=

auld lang- gyne,

my

der.r,

For

smpp!
For

E'iq]
r

lang -syne; Well tak' a

auld

EHE

tt
auld lang

gtf

auld lang -sync,

my

dear, For

lang- syne

w^
a

cup

o'

auld lang -sync; We'll tak' a

cup

o'

auld

We'll

tak'

*=P

;;;

63

auld lang

kindness yet, For

"We twa ha'e ran about the braes,


And pu'd the gowans fine
But we've wander'd mony a weary foot,
For auld, &c.
Sin' auld langsyne.

syne.

We twa ha'e

a^E

auld lang

kindness yet, For

syne.

auld lang

kindness yet, For

9i|=iP>-(

kindness yet, For

lang

auld

For auld, &c.

For auld langsyne.

syne.

And surely ye'll be your pint stoup,


And surely I'll be mine
And we'll tak' a cup o' kindness yet,

-a a-g-

*=Pk

bum

And there's a hand, my trusty friend,


And gi'e's a hand o' thine
And we'll tak' a richt guid-willie waught,

**
EZ2B5SEE

fcsr-

paidl'd in the

Frae morning sun till dine


But seas between us broad ha'e roar'd
For auld, &c.
Sin' auld langsyne.

For auld, &&,

For auld langsyne.

syne.

THE GALLANT WEAVER.


Written by Burns Air, "The Weaver's March."
Written by Burns for Johnson's "Museum." The beautiful air to which it is adapted was selected
by the poet himself, from "Aird's Selection of Scots Airs, adapted to the Fife, Violin, or German
Flute," Glasgow, 1734. The Cart, a small river in Renfrewshire, takes its rise in the parish ol
Eaglesham, and flowing through the busy manufacturing town of Paisley,
little below Renfrew.

sm

Cheerful.

$<*ij\ijtptt^
Where Cart

rins

row

- in

the Clyde a

^i

=p=
EEEE

*=F=t

mony

By

the sea,

to

falls into

a flow'r and spreading tree; There

xj3^jjijjjqn?777
n
r
lives

the

lad,

lad

for

He

me,

-^--=^

=*<

r>-

^t=
aught

fear'd

My

daddy signed

my

heart would tine,

my

tocher-band,
To gi'e the lad that has the land,
But to my heart I'll add my hand,

And

gi'e it to the

nine,

weaver.

They

And I
While

^
gi'ed

gal

lant

=P
weav -

er.

3E
EE

me

gi'ed

it

rings and ribbons

to

the

fine,

And

weav-cr.

birds rejoice in leafy bow'rs,

While bees delight in op'ning flow'rs,


While corn grows green in summer show'rs,
I'll

love

my

gallant weaver.

01

THE

DE'IL'S

AWA'

WT

THE EXCISEMAN.

Written by Bcrks Air, "The Hemp Dkesser."


These verses are said to have been composed extempore by Bums at a meeting of his brother
excisemen at Dumfries. The original is written on a piece of excise paper. Lockhart, however,
Bays it was composed on the shores of the Solway, while engaged in watching a smuggling brig
which had put in there. Some of the party had been despatched to Dumfries and Ecclefechan
to obtain the assistance of the military quartered there, leaving the poet with a few men under
"Burns," says Lockhart, "manifested considerable impatience
his orders to watch the brig.
while thus occupied, being left for many hours in a wet salt marsh, with a force which he knew
to be inadequate for the purpose it was meant to fulfil. One of his friends hearing him abuse
his friend Lewars, in particular, for being slow about his journey, the man answered that he also
wished the devil had him for his pains, and that Burns in the meantime would do well to indite
a song upon the sluggard. Burns said nothing, but after taking a few strides by himself among
the reeds and shingles, rejoined the party, and chanted to thern this well-known ditty." The
tune dates from the middle of the seventeenth century.
Lively.

The

il -

de'il

cam' fid-dim' through the town,

ka auld wife

cried,

" Auld

ma - houn,

$=*
The
i

de'il's

-*

sfefe
fiane'd

wa\ the

And

dane'd a-wa' wi'

wish you luck

th'

o'

cx-ciseman

your

a- wa', The

de'il's

he's

dane'd

man.'

a -wa' wi' th' ex-cise-man

gsEg^

- wa',

And

-^

de'il's

prize,

wa', He's dane'd a

wa'

wi'

We'll mak' our maut, we'll brew our drink,


We'll laugh, sing, and rejoice, man
And mony braw thanks to the muckle black
That dane'd awa' wi' th' exciseman.

th'

de'il

There's threesome reels, there's foursome reels,


There's hornpipes and strathspeys, man
But the ae best dance e'er cam' to the land,
Was, u The de'il's awa' wi1 th' exciseman.*'

ex

He's

cise-mam

MY

WIFE'S A

WINSOME WEE THING.

Written et BurnsAie,

"My

"Wife's

a wanton wee thing."

This lively old air was first published in Oswald's " Caledonian Pocket Companion." In a letter
to Mr. Thomson, 8th November, 1792, Burns says, " There is a peculiar rhythmus in many of our
airs, and a necessity of adapting syllables to the emphasis, or what I call the feature notes of the
For instance, in
tune, that cramp the poet, and lay him under almost insuperable difficulties.
the air 'My wife's a wanton wee thing:,' if a few lines smooth and pretty can be adapted to it,
The following were made extempore to it and though, on further study,
it is all you can expect.
I might give you something more profound, yet it might not suit the light horse gallop of the air
so well as this random clink." As the poet himself was pleased to call Mr. Thomson's alteration
of the second stanza "a positive improvement," we insert it, together with the stanza as origin;

ally written.

wee

ne

ver

saw

j-ttf n
.

ncist

my

heart

thing,

This

ne

fair-e

MJ^M

I'll

wear

her,

For

ver

lo'eJ

dear-e",

And

F'ft-i^

fr

my

fear

jew

el

tine.

Second Stanza as originally written.

a winsome wee thing,


a handsome wee thing,
is a bonnie wee thing,
This sweet wee wife o' mine.

She
She
She

is

is

warld's wrack we share o't,


warstle and the care o't,
Wi' her I'll blythely bear it,
And think my lot divine.

The
The

Second Stanza at altered by Mr. Thomson.

O leeze me on my wee thing,


My bonnie, blythesome wee thing,
Sae lang's I ha'e my wee thing,
I'll

think

my

lot divine.

Though

warld's care we share


sae meikle mair o't,
I'll blythely bear it,

And may
Wi' her

And

ne'er

a word repine.

o't,

66

Duet-THE SOLDIER'S RETURN.


Written by Burns Air, "The Mill, Mill 0."
Arranged as a Duet for this Work by A. Hume.
The air of "The Mill, Mill " is of considerable antiquity, and is found in the "Crockat M.S.,"
written in the beginning of the last century. The original rerses being considered by Ramsey
to be rather indelicate, he wrote the song beginning, "Beneath a green shade," as a substitute;
but even his verses would scarcely pass muster now-a-days. "The soldier's return " has always
been considered one of Burns's finest songs, and in every respect worthy of himself.
.

ll

Treble.

ii

t$z^ttzj~=^
=**-

Moderate.

When

to

^,_r*!_J
C^a^:za__
p

ej^9-

wild war's

aJtepfir

deadly

[gi

ft=P*

^_

was blawn, And

blast

peace

gentle

re-

Tenor.

When

fif

wild war's

deadly

ftf r

fe-4-^ra

turn

4t

Wi'

ing;

mo

ny

mo

ny

i
turn

Wi'

ing;

was

blast

blawn,

.rVy

3tEE

^E&

r-F-

fa

sweet babe

d=t
peace

gentle
r

g-f-g-F
a

And

">i ';w,

sweet babe

3L-

n
ther

re-

ra n

J,

And

- less,

Brcmg
fa

ther

And

less,

*t
mo - ny

wi

dow

mourn

ing.

left

the

lines

and

the

lines

and

=F=sf
wi

dow

mourn

ing.

left

E
/

>

tent

tent

ed

cd

field,

field.

Where Ian g

I'd

been

Where lansr

I'd

been

lod
tod-- ger;

My

hum hum-

ble

- ger;
lod-cer;
lod

My

hum

hie

; ; ;

; ;

;;

07
rail.

knap

beat in

leal light heart

My
And

my

sack

my

wealth,

breast,

Our humble

Ye

hands tmstain'd wi' plunder

for fair Scotia

hame

poor, but

Where Nancy

Wha

spied I but

my

glen,

By whom true love's regarded


am the man and thus may still

was

The wars

And

is light,

are o'er,

find thee

Though poor

swelling.

And

purse

ain dear maid,

Wi' alter'd voice, quo' I, Sweet lass,


Sweet as yon hawthorn's blossom
O happy, happy may he be
That's dearest to thy bosom.

My

faro

True lovers be rewarded.

oft I courted.

e'e

gcr.

Down by her mother's dwelling ?


And turn'd me round to hide the flood
That in

and hamely

cot

She gaz'd she redden'd like a rose,


Syne pale as ony lily
She sank within my arms, and cried,
Art thou my ain dear Willie?
By him wha made yon sun and sky,

and trysting thorn,

my

sod

est

That gallant badge, the dear cockade,


Ye're welcome for the sake o't.

again,

I cheery on did wander.


thought upon the banks o' Coil,
I thought upon my Nancy
I thought upon the witchin' smile
That caught my youthfu' fancy.

I pass'd the mill

freely shall partake o't

At length I reach'd the bonnie


Where early life I sported

hon

Quo'
;

and I'm come hame,

still

true hearted

in gear, we're rich in love,

mair we'se ne'er be parted.


My grandsire left me gowd,

she,

mailin' plenish'd fairly

Then come,

my

faithfu' sodger lad,

Thou'rt welcome to

it

dearly.

I've far to gang,

And

fain wad be thy lodger


my king and country lang,
Tak' pity on a sodger.

I've serv'd

Sae wistfully she gaz'd on me,


And lovelier grew than ever
Quo' she, A sodger ance I lo'ed,
Forget him will I never.

For gold the merchant ploughs the main,


The farmer ploughs the manor

But glory is the sodger's prize,


The sodger's wealth is honour.
The brave poor sodger ne'er despise,
Nor count him as a stranger
Remember he's his country's stay,
In day and hour

o'

danger.

"

68

CONTENTED WI LITTLE.
1

Wbitien et Burns Air, "Lumps

o' Puddijtg.**

This homely song was written for Mr. Thomson's collection, 179*. In the letter accompanying
the song, dared 19th November, 1791, Burns says, "Scottish bacchanalians we certainly want.
Apropos to bacchanalian songs in Scottish, I
though the few we have are excellent
composed one yesterday, for an air I like much, 'Lumps o' Pudding.'

Lively.

i_a_jiuv33E^

A ^E
Con

gd

- tent -

- ther

wi'

=fc
creep

m'

ed

lit - tie,

wi'

:S.l*z

=R=?=

m
sor -row

and

can

V ff"

l(v\
v!J
tJ

IL

care

d
sod-

V
n
J

n #

ger,

and

coin

them

gi'e

my

in

bow

el -

4J

o'

guid swats and

is

pouch And
;

my

skelp

an

they're

fought;

My

'

sang.

Scot-tish

=*r

blesome th ought But

L
**

"I

auld

fl

,,v

man

is

_P

1/

'/

!>

-U

1?

mirth an'

guid

hum

our

are

3E3:
my

freedom's

lairdship

nae

monarch dare touch.

A
A

towrnond o' trouble, should that be mj' fa',


night of guid fellowship southers it a'
When at the blythe end o' our journey at last,
"Wha the de'il ever thinks o' the road he has past?
Blind chance, let her snapper and stoyte on her way
Be't to me, be't frae me, e en let the jade gae
Come ease or come travail, come pleasure or pain,
warst word is
"Welcome and welcome again.
1

My

as

-*-*<

- e

life

trou

o'

h
R.J
\ 4
rtL

fc-r-

y-

cog

^
\.

33=
or

F^-

WI'

a-lang,

whiles claw the

I
rtft

mair, Whene'er

v.'i'

-0-W-

ES
-

- tie

3
p^S^

03

FOR ARE AN' TWENTY, TAH.

AST

Weitten by BurnsAir, " Tue Moudiewaht."


The following is said to be the origin of this song: A young girl being entitled to some property
on attaining her majority, was urged by her relations to marry a wealthy old suitor. Her affections, however, having been previously engaged by one, whose years, at least, were more in
accordance with her own, she refused, and tiie song represents her as assuring her lover of her
constancy and affection. She is determined to "learn her kin a rattlhV sang" on arriving at
the desired age of "ane an' twenty."

9r-r>

t~t^-

Cheerfully.

1T|^

znz^p

**!

twen

ty,

Tain;

I'll

i^gg^
ane

gar

me

my

kin

rat

SEE

look like

Tarn.

They

snool

Tarn

bluntie,

then comes ane

me

But

F=S

twenty,

an*

|=eSI^

Tarn, An'

hey

for

ane

sair,

an'

me

hand

three short years

an'

-OTain.

An'

will

gleib o' Ian', a claut o' gear,


auntie, Tarn
left me by

Were
At kith

my

an' kin I

needna

speir,

Gin I saw ane an' twenty, Tain.


An'
for aue an' twenty, &c

down. An'

soon wheel

-**-

>-&t=
for

ane

~7C
twen-ty,

were ane

ill

C3

-G-

twenty,

sang, Gin

tlin

FF *1
round, An'

**

Q-P & &w~s

twenty,

an'

learn

n^^

Tain;

an'

I'll

learn

twenty,

-N-

my

Turn.

me wed a wealthy eoof,


Though I myseV ha'e plenty, Tain
But hear'st thou, laddie? there's my loof,
They'll ha'e

-,

I'm thine at ane an' twenty, Tarn.


lor ane an' twenty, &c
An'

TO

VTEk

SHE THAT

IS

MEf

LO'ES

Written by Burn3Air,

Morag."

The air of " Morag," (Marion), seems to have been a great favourite of Eurns's, as he has no
fewer than three songs to that tune. "Of the air of 'Morag,' " says Allan Cunningham, "Burns
was passionately fond; yet it cannot he said that he was more than commonly successful in
wedding it to words. The measure which the tune requires is cramp and difficult, and the sentiment is interrupted before it has well begun to flow. This song was found among the papers of
Burns; the exact period of its composition is not known, nor has the heroine been named."

gw

Tenderly.

fc

-V
to

A3

if

wha

she

is

she that

keeping?

in

sweet

my heart

has

P9S-

!JE

And

that lo'es me,

lo'es

me, As

dews

o'

simmer weeping, In

tears the rose-buds

535E=>that's tbe

steeping.

my

las - sia

heart,

2^5rt2=^=tEEjz:j!^fc2zf:
dearer;

that's

the queen

o'

woman

If thou shalt meet a lassie,

And

kind,

My

las - sie

ne'er

had ane

to peer her.

If thou had'st heard her talking,

And

In grace and beauty charming,


e'en thy chosen lassie,
Erewhile thy breast sae warming
Had ne'er sic powers alarming.
that's, &c.

That

If thou hast

"When

That

thy attentions plighted,

ilka

body

But her by
An' thou

O
met

frae her

that's,

thou hast parted,

But her, thou hast deserted,


An' thou art broken-hearted.
that's,

&c.

talking,

thee

is

slighted,

art all delighted.

this fair one,

If every other fair one,

ver

mm

/7\

&c.

;;

!!

HIGHLAND

MAEIf.

Written by Burns Air, "Eatherine Ogie."


Mary Campbell, the subject of this beautiful effusion, was servant in a gentleman's family, nea?
Mauchline. Though not a beauty, she possessed a sweet temper and an obliging disposition, while
her mental qualifications were of a high order. "After a pretty long tract of the most ardent
reciprocal attachment," says Burns, "we met, by appointment, on the second Sunday of May, in
a sequestered spot, by the banks of Ayr, where we spent a day in taking a farewell before she
should embark for the West Highlands, to arrange matters among her friends for our projected
change of life. At the close of the autumn following, she crossed the sea to meet me at Greenock,
where she had scarce landed, when she was seized with a malignant fever, which hurried my
dear girl to the grave in a few days, before I could even hear of her illness." Mr. Cromek in Ids
" Keliques" gives the following particulars respecting the parting of Burns with his Mary:
"This adieu," says he, "was performed with all those simple and striking ceremonies which
rustic sentiment has devised to prolong tender emotions, and to inspire awe. The lovers stood
on each side of a small purling brook they laved their hands in its limpid stream, and, holding a
Bible between them, pronounced their vows to be faithful to each other " The remains of Highland Mary repose in the West churchyard of Greenock.

353=q^I--V
i-"*!


rhzzp^'i
sim

mer

->-^

i-

fair

your

'

first

T*

g-g- JH
^-T^f jf F-*v-g
^.

of

tie

Mont

gomery, Green

s^~

be your woods and


r^=
gr* fi

There

cas
;as

gfefe^E^^E^El
--^

bat

P=n

Ye banks and braes, and streams around The

h~b

g^y _ g^L^._"
J

flow'rs,

P-

unfaulds

Your wa

.g

her robes,

i**2*

- ters

=^

And
==

ne

ver

^^

lang

there they

^ g-g-e ^

^-i

drumlie.

j^i-n

est

-v

-H-

2EE
ry

For there

took the

last

How sweetly bloomed the gay green


How rich the hawthorn's blossom,
As underneath

their fragrant shade


I clasped her to my bosom
The golden hours, on angel-wings,
Flew o'er me and my dearie ;
For dear to me as light and life
!

Was my sweet Highland Mary.


Wi' mony a vow and lock'd embrace,
Our parting was fu' tender
And, pledging aft to meet again,
"We tore ourselves asunder

Of

farewell

birk.

But, oh!

my
fell

That nipt

Now green's

Highland

Ma

ry.

death's untimely frost,

my flower sae early!


the sod, and cauld's the clay

That wraps
pale, pale

sweet

my

Highland Mary

now, those rosy

lips

I aft ha'e kissed sae fondly!

And

closed for aye the sparkling glance

That dwelt on me sae kindly!

And

mouldering now in

silent dust

The heart that lo'ed me dearly


But still within my bosom's core
Shall live my Highland Mary

12

THE BANKS OF THE DEVON.


Written ry Burns Gaelic Air, "The Brown Dairy Maid."
This sweet song was composed on Miss Charlotte Hamilton, the sister of the poet's friend, Gavin
Hamilton of Mauchline. She married Dr. James M'Kitrick Adair. " She wjis born," says Burns,
"on the banks of Ayr, bat was, at the time I wrote these lines, residing at Harveyston, in Clackmannanshire, on the romantic banks of the little river Devon." The air, which was noted down
from the singing of a lady in Inverness, is called "Bhannerach dhon na chri," or "The Brown
Dairy Maid."
Tenderly

feipiiliiiliSsiii^
g-e 4 V /fr ff f fEjsgEfepi^
!S5=*
^S:

m
z.

How

the clear wind-ing

plea-sant the banks of

and

bush-es,

bloom-ing

flow'rs

-1? -^
But the

fair;

Bc-von, With green spreading

bon

ni

on

fiow'r

est

the

rffini

banks

the

of

fCX
Mild

P
be

the

Was

De-von,

fc
sun

the braes of

m
on

this sweet blush-ing

BE &*=&

bathes in

the

dew,

- er,

In

er,

That

steals

on

the

fall

of

the

m
ev'n

ing

ro

sy

g^

gen-tle the

'e^^^:.
show

gay

the

p
And

flow

the Ayr.

Z=fZW^=ZfE

ZZZ?ZtZjZZZ3$=j=ZZ^

&*

it

on

f>

morn, as

a sweet bud

once

each

leaf

spare the dear blossom, ye orient breezes,


chill hoary -wing as ye usher the dawn
far be thou distant, thou reptile that seizes
The verdure and pride of the garden and lawn
Let Bourbon exult in her gay gilded lilies,
And England triumphant display her proud ro:c;
fairer than either adorns the green valleys,

With

And

Wlire Devon, sweet Devon, meandering flows.

soft

-zjiz

to

re

ver

nal

3H
new.

73

TIBBIE, I HA'E SEEN THE DA?.


Written by Burns Am, "Ikvercauld's Reel."
This is one of Bums's early productions. Jt is an excellent song, and carries
along with it. The poet has'evidently taken Tibbie Fowler for his model.
-

Moderate.

tnSL^
Tib

Jf 3 =T j.
j. j.
I

- bie,

ha'e seen

the

J*

e^ee^

wad na

Ye

day

own moral

its

been

sae

For

iy;

j|gEiggp
lack o' gear ye

lightly

me, But troth

on

the moor,

cause I'm poor, Bat

spak'

na,

but gaed by

9 '
-- .&fient a hair care

Ifes^fe
sae shy

For lack

like

-0-

0'

gear ye

lightly

lass, but ye may think,


Because ye ha'e the name o clink,
That ye can please me at a wink,
Whene'er ye like to try.

Ye'il cast

Lie,

Ye

geek

mean,

But

ha'e seen the day

^v=^
I

^S
care

na

by.

mark $

your head anither

if

airt,

fu shv.

Tibbie, vie.

he ha'e the

Ye'il fasten to

Wha

him

name

0'

gear,

like a brier

Tho' hardly he for sense or lear


Be better than the kve.

Tibbie, &c.

Tibbie, &c.

But, Tibbie, lass, tak' my advice,


Your daddie's gear mak's you sae nice,
The deil a ane wad spier your price,
Were ye as puir as I.
Tibbie,

me

at

And answer him

U
that's sae

Altho' his pouch 0' coin were clean


follows ony saucy quean
That looks sae proud and high.

me, But troth

at the

Tibbie, &c.

him

met ye

Although a lad were e'er sae smart,


Gin he but want the yellow dirt,

I doubt na,

tak'

-<S-

s
Tib

I.

Begin the succeeding verses

But sorrow

stour

cr*

**3Et

wad na been

Yestreen

by.

^=i2:

3SE

=F

Ye

na

=e:
==3=

fit:

-N-#

care

&c

Ye

;;

74:

THEIR GROVES
Written by Burns Irish

0'

SWEET MYRTLE

Air, "

The Humours of Glen."

"A beautiful strain,"

says Dr. Currie, "which, it may be confidently predicted, will be sung


with equal or superior interest on the banks of the Ganges or of the Mississippi, as on those of the
Tay or the Tweed. The melody is one of the finest in the whole range of Irish minstrelsy."

Their groves

o'

sweet myr-tle

for-eign lands reck-on,

let

Where bright beaming

P^^^^^^^i^^ES=f
summers ex

hale

the

per-fume

Far

dear

er

me yon

to

lone

glen

o'

green

g^^.^E^=^|SgE||gg^fi
brack

en,

WT

burn

the

un

steal - ing

der

lang yel

the

low broom.

^SttTt- *=3:
iMfes^] SEES
l^SSllilP^Sii^
Far

dear

blue bell

*A "r
m
*

<((H
*x\)

%)

J
9

mangthe

and

f
1

U
r

er

to

me

are

gow-an lurk low


j
^S
d Jii
"
^- m
^J

wild flow

un

P
1*.

5j
1

',

4J***
j

hum

yon

L*

seen

p
V
P

u
i

brown bow-ers, Where the

b!e

For there

P
!?

Though

t rip-ping

J
#

list'-ning the lin-net,

o,x$,

lig lt- ly
IS

aft

wan-ders

rich is the breeze in their gay sunny valleys,


cauld Caledonia's blast on the wave
Their sweet-scented woodlands that skirt the proud palace,
What are they? the haunt of the tyrant and slave!
The slave's spicy forests, and gold-bubbling fountains,
The brave Caledonian views with disdain
ile wanders as free as the winds of his mountains,
Save love's willing fetters, the chains o' his Jean.

And

s ^_
IL

,
,

a-

ft

my

Jean.

IN SIMMEE,

:
;

WHEN THE HAY WAS

Written by BurnsAir,
is

MAWIT.

The Country Lass."

' s

This charming dialogue wa3 written by Burns for Johnson's " Museum," 1792. The argument
ably sustained on both sides, but, as might be expected, " guid advisement " kicks the beam.
air of " The country lass " appears in the " Orpheus Caledonius," 172o.

The
_

Moderate.

sim

In

mer,

-g-s

-^ /
ka

field;

hay was mawn, And corn wav'd

when the

Q-- 'r P-P

^L-^^

'

il -

e ^--I

While clo-ver blooms white

o'er the

zat==:

il-ka

&-

o't

bield.

[^

Blythe Bes-sie

f
C_

1^

ye ha'e wooers mony a ane,


And, lassie, ye're but young, ye ken
Then wait a wee, and canny wale

routine but, a routhie ben.


There's Johnnie o' the Buskie glen,
Fu' is his barn, fu' is his byre
this frae

me,

my

bonnie hen,

'Tis plenty beets the lover's

fire.

For Johnnie o' the Buskie glen


I dinna care a single flee

He lo'es sae weel his craps an' kye,


He has nae love to spare for me
But

blythe's the blink

An' weel

Ae

blink

o'

o'

Robie's

e'e,

I wat he lo'es me dear


him I wad na gi'e

For Buskie glen an'

a'

his gear.

ro

&--P.
sarat
eild,

>zfZ?
-

blaw

se3

SE

milk-in* shiel, Says,

<

And

=1*

'

what will; Outspak'a dame in wrinkled

It's

Tak'

lea,

Zl73

in the

P"*

L_^

ac

---

/ /-

--P

green

I'll

d
3=3=

be

wed,

=i=p=q

"0' guid advisement comes nae

thoughtless lassie,

life's

ill."

a faugh t,

The canniest gate the strife is sair


But aye fu' han't is fechting best,
A hungry care's an unco care
But some will spend, an' some w ill spare,
r

An' wilfu' foJk maun ha'e their will


Syne as ye brew, my maiden fair,
Keep mind that ye maun drink the yill.
gear will buy me rigs o' land,
An' gear will buy me sheep an' kye;
But the tender heart o' leesome love,
The gowd an' siller winna buy

We may be puir, Bobie an' I


Light is the burden love lays on
Content an' love brings peace and joy ;
What mair ha'e queens upon a throne ?

Trio-AULD BOB MOKRlS.


Written by Burns.

Arranged for

this

Work

by A. Hume.

Burns, in these beautiful verses, has retained only the first two lines of tbe old song. Wc append
the original dialogue, as given by Ramsay in the ""Tea Table Miscellany," 1724, where it is marked
with the letter Q, denoting that it was even then an old song, which Ramsav considerably improved. The air is found in Mr. Blaikie's M.S., 1G*J2, also in Craig's selection, ll2o.
Am. Rath er slow.
.

frS^atj

jrnjffl^ jy^

mf

There's

auid

Rcb

Bfor-rfs

that

mf

There's

auld

Rob Mor-ris

that

wons

in

a't.

yon

glen, He's the

king

o'

guid

yon

glen, He's the

king

o'

guid

fmm^mmm^mimm
m
wons

in

Bass.

~P~T

~H--M

3=t

fcfcrt

:t=-t

=j=jzzhf
:*=*=?=
fel-lows,

and

wale

fel-lows,

and

wale

r r

j?

o'

auld

men.

He

has gowd in

his

^H
cof-fers,

he has

cof-fers,

he has

fcfc-

*4f

as
ft

grr Jj
ow

sen

and

fepaat
ow

sen

and

o'

auld

men.

He has gowd

in

his

piigfs=M1
i+i

^^^mrQ^^I

^^
kine,

kine,

And

ae

bon-nie

And

ae

bon-nie

las-sie, his

dar-ling

and mine.

gg^gjjjggi
las-sie, his

dar-ling

and mine.

pw^rr^T^TnWr^^

;;

77
She's fresh as the morning-, the fairest in May;
She's sweet as the ev'ning amang the new hay
As blythe and as artless as the lamb on the lea,
And dear to my heart as the light to the e'e.

But oh

she's an heiress
auld Robin's a laird,
daddie has nought but a cot-house and yard
like me maunna hope to come speed
wounds I maun hide that will soon be my dead.
!

And my

wooer

The
The day comes to me, but delight brings me nane
The night comes to me, but my rest it is gane
I

wander

And

my

lane, like a night-troubled ghaist,

I sigh as

my

heart

it

wad

burst in

my

breast.

Oh, had she but been of a lower degree,


I then might ha'e hoped she wad smil'd upon me;

how past describing had then been my bliss,


As now my distraction no words can express.

Oh

WHISTLE O'ER THE LAVE

O'T.

Written by Burxs.
This humorous sons was written by Burns for Johnson's " Museum," as a substitute for the eld
words, which are untit for publication. John Bruce, of Dumfries, is said to have been the composer of the beautiful air of " Whistle o'er the lave o't." On the other hand it is alleged that
Bruce, though an excellent performer, was never known as a composer of music, and that the
air was composed long before Bruce was in existence.*
_

Moderate.

EB

m*E&*3m

First

sispe

[IB

when Maggie was my care, Heav'n I thought was

Now we're married,

in her

ii^igg^ijiiiieiiii^
HH^sga
spier nae mair,

as

How we
How we

But whistle

child;
live,

o'er the lave

Wis

my Meg

men than
and me,

love and how we gree,


na by how few may see,
Sae whistle o'er the lave o't.

I care

o't.

Meg was meek, and Meg was mild,S'veet and harmless

me's

be-guil'd, Sae

"Wha

whis-tle

o'er the lave o't

wish were maggot's meat,

Dish'd up in her windin' sheet,


could write, but Meg maun see't,

Sae whistle

o'er the lave o't.

OUT OVEB THE FORTH.


Air,

"Charles Gordon's "Welcome Hame."

The first stanza of this song was written by Burns for the " Museum."
are from Blackie's M Scottish Songs," where they appear anonymously.

-^

The second and

third

Slowly.

Highlands

me? The

to

:Wfc

ease

gi'e

my rest,

to

Cj

^^z=^j/=zg^z^z=r^=g:
my dreams and my

he

His father

lo'e

best,

The

lock

is

the west

slumbers may be; For

far

dear to

my

bairnie

frown'd on the love of his boyhood,


And oh, his proud mother looked cauld upon me
But he follow'd me aye to my hame in the shieling,
And the hills o' Breadalbane rang wild wi our glee.
A' the lang simmer day, 'mid the heather and bracken,
I joy'd in the light o' his bonnie blue e'e
I little then thought that the wide "Western Ocean,
Would be rolling the day 'tween my laddie and me.
lie

"When we plighted our faith by the cairn on the mountain,


The deer and the roe stood bridemaidens to me
bride's trying-glass was the clear crystal fountain,
then was the world to my laddie and me?
Sae I look to the west, when I gae to my rest,
That happy my dreams and my slumbers may be
Tor far in the west is the lad 1 lo'e best,
lie's seeking a hame for my bairnie and me.

And my
What

when

in

the

S^B

lad that

to

The

That happy

But

breast,

^=7=

the wide rolling sea.

*
lives

my

to

or

foreign land,

-a*

west

east

.I

p=cg*.z*=?z
gae

the

ttfflW

zMzzMz
far

south nor

and me.

79

THE DETJKS DANG O'EB MY DABDIE.


two stanzas of this humorous old ditty were re-written by Burns for the " Museum."
two were added by Dr. Graham, of Glasgow. The lively air to which they are set had
into England before the middle of the seventeenth century. It is published in
Playford's "Dancing Master," 1657, under the title of the "Buff Coat."

The

first

Tlie other

found

its

way

fiEEt

^ESE
The

3S5

~c
out

bairns gat

un

wi'

-*-+

as

EE
dad

puir

just

JEES
paid

-v

paid

And he

--W^W-

e'en

let

paid

les

late

him

paid

33c

there,

lie

- les

out,

hP=P=jc:

pES

-M-

The deuks dang

co shout,

o.

3E

o'er

and

ear

ha'e

been his

Now haud your tongue,


And

guid

wife,

and

0; This thretty lang

-3-

I've seen the day, and sae ha'e ye,


I was baith proud and gaucy, O.

I've seen the day ye buttered

And

cuitered

But auld age

And wow

is

me

late

on

me now,

but I find

and

it

early,

comes

but

spare

0.

ly,

Gin the w ind were out o' your whaisling


I'd marry again, and be vogie,0;[hause>
Some bonnie young lad wad be my lot,
r

Some
;

na though ye were i' the mools,


Or dookit in a bogie,
ken na the use o' the crazy auld fool,
But just to toom a cogie, 0.
;

com-fort

rosy cheekit rogie, 0.

brose,

richt sairly, 0.

I care
I

my

he

m
And

quo' our guidman,

dinna be sae saucy,

he's

r^c. _=_:
- ly,

For

2^=years

-*
my

--*-

=3E :jfc^zzjS=jtz3fc

- wife,

- lin

les

guid

our

Quo'

0;

- die,

rpc

Quo' our guidman, gi'e me that rung


That's hinging at the ingle,
I'se gar ye haud that sorrowfu' tongue,
Or else your lugs will tingle, O.
Gang to your bed this blessed nicht,
Or I'll be your undoing, O.
The cannie auld wife crap out o' sicht,
What think ye o' sic wooing, ?
;

:-

^7

'

- -

-,

_^

'

, t
=

^i
=

'

'

<-

r-

,
j

>

__

":::

:::

_.:-_

rrr

~r

.{

*_
#

'-

-*

...

-.

__

t_

..

'

"

*- il-

^ ^

"%.**

^
*

*
*

^
'

'

-"
.

,
*

^.

82

THEBE WAS A LASS AND SHE WAS FAIR.


Written by Burns Air,

" Bonnie Jean of Aberdeen. "

In a letter to Mr. Thomson, dated 2d July, 1793, Burns says, " I have just finished the following
ballad, and as I think it in my best style, I send it to you." It is certainly one of the pact's
finest effusions.
From some unexplained cause Mr. Thomson published the verses to the tune of
44
Willie was a wanton wag.*1 We prefer giving the tune to which the poet meant his song to be
sung. In Craig's collection of "Old Scottish Melodies," published in 1730, we find the beautiful
air of " Bonnie Jean," which shows that even then it was considered an old tune.

mm^m
.

Cheerfully.

II

There

was

^qlass

and

she

was

'i=m^&sm
be

seen,

When

a'

fie

khk and

At

fair,

mar

ket

=t

3T3-

to

E^=35S

=^=3=

fvivest

* 4~

maids were met The

pgigpE^^^^P

fair - est

:&:=

wark,

And

aye

she

ri

lie;

The

^S=
=t=M
Myth

- est

-rri f3-fr
bird

up

on

the bush

Had

ne'er

But hawks will rob the tender joys


That bless the little lintwhite's nest,

And

frost -will blight the fairest flow'rs,

And love will break


Young Robbie was the
The

flow'r

and pride

the soundest rest.

brawest lad,
o' a' the glen

And he had ousen, sheep, aud


And wanton naiffies nine or

kye,
ten.

light

er

heart

than

she.

lie gaed wi' Jennie to the tryst,

He danced
And lang ere

wi Jeanie on the down

witless Jeanie wist,

Her heart was tint, her peace was stown.


As in the bosom o' the stream,
The moonbeam dwells at dewy e'eu;
So trembling, pure, was tender love,
Within the breast

o'

bonnie Jean.

; ;

83

And now she works her mammy's


And aye she sighs wi' care and

O
Or

wilt thou leave thy

And

me;

mammy's

cot,

learn to tent the farms wi'

meV

At barn or byre thou shalt na drudge,


Or naething else to trouble thee
But stray amang the heather bells,

And

tent the wavin' corn wi' me.

Now

what could artless Jeanie do ?


She had na will to say him na

The sun was sinkin' in the west,


The birds sang sweet in ilka grove

At length she

to hers he fondly prest,


whisper'd thus his tale o' love

His cheek

And

fair, I love thee dear,


canst thou think to fancy

Jeanie

wark,
pain

Yet wist na what her ail might be,


Or what wad mak' her w eel again.
But did na Jeanie's heart loup light,
And did na joy blink in her e'e,
As Robbie tauld a tale o' love,
Ae eenin' on the lily lea.

blush'd a sweet consent,


love was aye between them twa.

And

SHE'S FAIR

AND FAUSE.

Wkitten by Bukns.
Burns, it is said, picked up this fine air from a country musician, and sent it with the verses
"Museum." The tune, however, had been previously published by Oswald, in the "Caledonian Pocket Companion," under the title of "The Lads of Leith."
to the

Slowly.

^gj^P^j ^=?

:*=!$

^==i=^

She's

and

fair

my

causes

fause that

t4

smart, I

^/=*
She's

my

heart,

And

may

-P-&-

toof cam' in wi'

dear: But

"Wha

e'er

woman

ye be that

is

but

woman

To thi3 be never blind


Kae ferlie 'tis though fickle
A woman has't by kind.

-1-y-t-W^

L- V^

routh

warld's

love,

o' gear,

gear,

Sae

And

let

and

gae

e'en

=ra
^--l/ha'e tint

the bonnie

woman, lovely woman

An
she prove,

=jv :

3^te===:
t=b^=-^i

;>'-

broken her vow, she's broken

her meikle

lo'ed

&&-

lang;

9-

my

lass

dear-est

gang

fair,

angel form's fa'n to thy share,


o'er meikle to gi'en thee niair,
I mean an angel mind.

'Twad been

Si

MY NANNIE,

0.

Worus bt Burns Am, "My Nannie,

0."

The heroine of this song was Miss Agnes Fleming, daughter of a farmer at Caleothill, near
Lochlea, in the parish of Tarbolton, Ayrshire. Burns -wrote this song when very young.
It
appears in the Cth vol. of Johnson's " Museum," adapted to a different air, but the verses having
been composed expressly for the air " My Nannie, 0," evidently unite more happily -with it than
any other melody to which it can possibly be adapted. Bums subsequently gave his original
song a few masterly touches, which have considerably heightened its effect. This fine old air
appears in the " Orpheus Caledonius," 1725, with the song written by Ramsay, beginning " While
some for pleasure pawn their health.'' The Lugar is a river in Ayrshire, which takes its rise in
the Cumnock lakes, and discharges itself into the river Ayr, at Barskimming.

|i^Eg
Be

3^=ig:s-

^=F
-

hind yon

hills

where Lu

mos

gar flows, 'Mang moors and

g5g=gg:
The

sun

try

day

the

west

Tlie

has

wind

- lin*

=t=P

clos'd,

And

btewi

qV

&=t$z

loud

and

plaid,

shrill,

and

The

out

night's baith

steal,

I'll

mirk

And

Nannie's charming, sweet, and young,

Nae

Way

ill

artfu' wiles to

and

owre

rain

the

And

But what

ye,

That wad beguile my


Her face is fair, her heart is true,
As spotless as she's bonnie, ();
The opening gowan, wat wi' dew,
Nae purer is than Nannie, 0.

But

0,

y,

hills

to

I'll

Nan

get

- nic,

my

0.

country lad is my degree,


few there be that ken me, 0;
care I how few they be?
I'm welcome aye to Nannie, 0.

tongue
Nannie, 0!

win

befa' the flattering

My

riches

An'

a' 's

maun

my

penny-fee,

guide it cannic, 0;
But warl's gear ne'er troubles me,
My thoughts are a' my Nannie, O.
I

85

Our auld guidman

delights to view
His sheep and kve thrive bonnie,
But Tiii as blythe that hauds his pleugh,
An' has nae care but Nannie, 0.
Come weel, come wae, I care na by,
I'll tak' what heav'n will sen' me,
;
;

Kae

ither care in

But

live, an'

ha'e I

life

love

my

Nannie, O.

THE DAY RETURNS, MY BOSOM BURNS.


An?,
_

"The Seventh or November. "

Lively.

ifes-fi^! :==t
:ir=t^t
The

day returns,

win-ter
h~\y

***

wild

a a

in

m~(*

my bosom burns, The

tempest
_ a_

toil'd,

blissful

sun

we twa did meet; Tho

day

Ne'er summer

O0 a^2** -

Hgi

f=P*
a*j=;R

==

was

F * M

half sae sweet.


~

'

4=J=*
Than

a'

the pride

that loads the tide,

And

cros-seso'er

the

sultry line, Than

B ^FP^=r^fffrJ^ frj^i

befe

king

ly robes,

than crowns and globes, Heav'n gave

While day and night can bring

Or nature aught

me more, it made

delight,

of pleasure give

"While joys above my mind can move,


For thee, and thee alone I'll live.
When that grim foe of life below,

Comes in between to make us part


The iron hand that breaks our band,
It

breaks

my

bliss

it

breaks

mv

heart.

thee mine.

86

DOES HAUGHTY GAUL INVASION THREAT?


cp and Ear the Dooh."

Aik, "Rise
With

spirit.

Docs haush-ty Gaul in

There's wooden

walls

?
aHE^^E
The

up

*t

va-sion threat?

on

j>i

Kith shall run to

^* ^^

our

seas,

Then

let

And

vo

the loons he

lun-teers on

ware,

sir,

shore,

sir.

&=^ S

tia$!a
And

Cor-sin-eon,

Crif-fel sink in

Sol-war,

S5=ir,
tt

jfcfcc f3-C^Ere

we

per

mit

let

On

for-eign foe

Bri -tish ground to

us not, like snarling curs,

In wrangling be divided
Till, slap, come in a foreign loon,
And by a rung decide it.
;

Be

Britain

Amang

still

to Britain true,

oursel's united

Tor never but by British hands


Maun British wrangs be righted.

The

kettle o' the kirk and state,


Perhaps a clout may fail in't
de'il a foreign tinkler loon

But

Shall ever ca' a nail in't.


fathers' blood the kettle bought,
And wha wad dare to spoil it ?
Byheav'n! the sacrilegious dog
Shall fuel be to boil it.

Our

The wretch that wad a tyrant own,


And the wretch, his true sworn brother,
Wha'd sot the mob aboon the throne,

May

they be damn'd together.

ral

ly.

87

Wha

will not sing, "

Shall

hang

God

save the King,"

as high's the steeple;

sing, "God save the King,'*


We'll ne'er forget the people.

But while we

SAW YE BONNIE LESLIE


Air,
Live

"The

Collier's Boxnie Lassie."

y.

bonnie

Les-lie,

As

she gaed o'er the bcr -der?

gane,

like

A-

lex

an

-der,

55 g-^
To

see

her

13

to

To spread

-^3

-j_:_ ^_q

her

con

She's

E^S^H
far-ther;

quests

+=^--plJ^f-B9^^-J-*E=jd
love her,

And

love

And

ne'er

hut

her for

ev-er;

For

5^
na

tare

made her

Thou

what

she

is,

made

art a queen, fair Leslie,

Thy subjects we, before thee;


Thou art divine, fair Leslie,
The hearts o' men adore thee.
The dell he couldna scaith thee,
Or aught that wad belang thee
He'd look into thy bonnie face,
And say, " I canna wrang thee."

The powers aboon

will tent thee,

Misfortunes shanna steer thee;


Thou'rt like themsel's sae lovely,

That ill they'll ne'er let near thee.


Return again, fair Leslie,
Return to Caledonie;
That we may brag we ha'e a las3
There's nane again sae bonnie.

sic

an

ith - er.

THE BATTLE OF SHEEIFFMUIR.


Weitten bt Burns-Aib, "The Cameronian Rant."
The battle of Shcriffmuir has been commemorated in several songs. Among the earliest is "A
dialogue between Will Lickladle and Tarn Cleancogue, twa shepherds, wha were feeding
their
sheep on the Ochil Hills on the day the battle of Sheriffmuir was fought." The author was the
Rev. John Barclay, founder of the sect called Bereans. Buras's song, though onlv an imitation
"
is decidedly the best of the two.
The air, sometimes called The Cameron's march," is a eood
old Highland reel tune. The chorus may be omitted at the pleasure of the singer. " The
Dmrate
brig M crosses the Molindiiiar burn in the north-east district of Glasgow.

|/_L-u_

3:

g9 _L

^C.
v-^-v-

i^

3E3E3E

Js=& *=*:

sEE

-N-

wrs

f.
saw

ye

at

the

the

bat

- tie,

Slier - ra - muir,

t-r

And

man; Or

did

the

bat -tie

see,

man?

vut=t-&&u&a

and teach, And

sair

me,

|h.|
=fc

~ -J^

za=a=i

S-J

F-

cam' you here the fight to shun, Or herd the sheep wi'

red

reek-in'

ran

My

mony

a sheuch,

see

the ciuds, 0*

m^mg^^^m^wmm
heart, for

fear,

ga'e sough for sough,

To hear the

thuds, and

wmm
clans

hey

frae wuds, in

dum

dir

ruin,

tar

hoy

tan duds,

dum

dan,

Wha

glaum'd

H=
at

Huh hey dum


!

kingdoms

dir

three,

man.

rum dey

dan

/-Huh

Huh

^=^c

JHM-r-fH

hey

duin

dir

rum,

key

dum dan, Huh!

tcy

dum

dir

-rum

dey

dan.

80

The red-coat lads wi' black cockades,


To meet them were na slaw, man,
They rush'd, and push'd, and bluid out
gush'd,

And mony

a bouk did fa', man.


The great Argyle led ^n his files,
I wat they glanced twenty miles,
They bough'd the clans like nine-i in kyles;
They hack'd and hash'd, while broad-

And

swords clash'd,
through they dash'd, and hew'd and
smash'd,

TL1 feymen died awa, man.

Huh

hey, &c.

But had you seen the

philabegs,

And skyrin' tartan trews, man,


When in the teeth they daur'd our

And at Dunblane, in my ain sight,


They took the brig wi' a' their might,
And straughtto Stirling wingd their flight,
But, cursed lot, the gates were shut,
a huntit puir red-coat,
For fear amaist did swarf, man.
Huh hey, &c.

And mony

My

sister

Wi' crowdie unto me, man;


She swore she saw some rebels run
To Perth and to Dundee, man.
Their left-hand general had nae skill,
The Angus lads had nae guid-will
That day their neighbours' bluid to spill
For fear, by foes, that they should lose
Their cogs

"Whigs,

Drew

blades

They

o'

Huh!
0,
I

how

death,

till

out

o'

fled like frighted do'es,

de'il,

breath,

man.

hey, &c.

Tarn, can that be true ?

The chase gaed frae the north, man


saw mysel' they did pursue
The horsemen back to Forth, man.

o'

brose,

And hameward

Huh

And

covenant true- blues, man.


In lines extended lang and large,
When bayonets opposed the targe,
And thousands hastened to the charge;
Wi' Highland wrath, they frae the sheath

Kate cam' up the gate

they scared at blows,

fast did flee,

man.

hey, &e.

some gallant gentlemen


the Highland clans, man
Lord Panmure is slain,
Or in his enemies' hands, man.
Now wad ye sing this double fight,
Some fell for wrang, and some for right;
And mony bade the world guid night.
Say pell and mell, wi' musket knell,
How Tories fell, and Whigs to hell
Flew aff in frighted bands, man.

They've

lost

Amang

I fear

my

Huh!

hey,

&c

MONTGOMERY'S PEGGY.
Aik,

Although

Amang

my

"Gala Water."

bed were in yon muir

the heather, in

my

plaidie,

I'd seek

some

deli

I'd shelter dear

and in my arms
Montgomery's Peggy.

Yet happy, happy would I be,


Had I my dear Montgomery's Peggy.

Were

When

Then a' 'twad gi'e o' joy to me,


The sharin't w ith Montgomery's Fcggy

And

o'er the hill

beat surly storms,


winter nights were dark and rainy

proud and high,


horse and servants waiting ready.

I a baron

And

90

LOVELY POLLY STEWART.


Am, "You're Welcome, Charlie

Stuart.'

With feeling.

^=^=^
j *-

love

Pol

ly

Stew-

ly

charm -ing

art,

Pol

_j_ j

Stewart

ly

*1

^ ^

There's

533
ne'er

blooms in

flow'r that

^^e=c=

_^_j.

The

flow'r

it

blaws,

it

May, That's

fades,

i/

And

fa's,

it

half

so

art

SE

^_L

JJ

can ne'er re

art

thou

as

fair

new

it;

But

Ro

rail.

:*=
worth and truth,
]/
-/I

fm
VIJ
t^

p
J
d

W
!

love

\
P

J
#
-

ter

youth Will

nal

\
P

fc.

P
!

*
Pol

ly

-ly

Stew

K
r

r.

1^

P*

charm-ing Pol

- art,

Stew

ly

Pol

to

gi'e

V
ly

that

blooms in

May, That's half

Begin the next verse

at the

mark

so

fair

Stewart

as

'$'

he, whase arms shall fauld thy charms,


Possess a leal and true heart
To him be giv'n to ken the heav'n
He grasps in Polly Stewart.

FAEEWELL, THOU STREAM THAT WINDING FLOWS.


Greenwood Ganl."

With Expression.

Fare-well, thou stream that wind

tag ilows

A-roundE

There's

May

Air, "Nancy's to the

Pm
!

<^

I
flow*r

art

dwelling

;;

91

ry

cm

the

spare

throes

el

With -in

bo

this

som

swell-mg.

3*=fc
CoR-dernri'd to drag a

hope

chain,

- less

And

yet in

se

lan-guish

cret

To

--ifk=-fz

feci

ev'

fire

ry

Nor

vein,

For

Eliza, hear

my

pity's sake forgive

saw thine

Mid

prayer,

my heart,

MY

IS

^
in

my

e'e,

For

bear,

And

the

-JzMzrzd:
sweet

me

sak

en

and

-hQ-A
p"

friend-less,

2S=

-Sir

my

3 ^^

voice

ruin.

zflt *
jw

=f

-/-

enslaved

more had saved me.

Lang, lang, joys been

^t=jt

voice I heard,
it

HEART.

tear's

B^f^f
me

an-guish.

circling horrors sinks at last,

=qs=

and the

^4

to

my

eyes, yet nothing feared,

In overwhelming

me.

ite^^T^g
is

close

Th' unwary sailor thus aghast,


The wheeling torrent viewing

WAE

Wae

Till fears no

know thou doom'st me to despair,


Nor wilt, nor can'st relieve me

But, oh

dis

The music of thy


Nor wist while

Love's veriest wretch, unseen, unknown,


I fain my griefs wad cover
bursting sigh, th* unweeting groan,
Betray the hapless lover.

The
I

dare

^=S-

_ff_j._S_^_

o'

pi

ty

ne'er

sounds

fei

my

car.

92
Love, thou hast pleasures, and deep ha'e I lo'ed,
Love, thou hast sorrows, and sair ha'e I prov'd
13 ut this bruised heart, that now bleeds in my breast,
I can feel by its throbbings, will soon be at rest.

were, where

if I

happy

1 ha'e been,

Down by yon

stream and yon bonnie castle green;


For there he is wand' ring and musing on me,
Wha wad soon dry the tear frae his Phillis's e'e.

FROM THEE,

ELIZA,

MUST

GO.

AlB, "GlLDEROY."
8"ow,

and

iv'.lh

feeling.

^^^^m^^^^^^^M
S SES35Sm
E3=

From

thee,

liz

must

a,

go,

Ami from my na

tive shore

>sE

be

fates

-&J-&
But

ftp fif f
hound-less

tweea

f> f>

us

, :*

."*'

o-ceans

throw

roar -Ing wide, Be

di

vide

bound-

tween

My

boding voice is in mine ear,


We part to meet no more.

The

latest throb that leaves

While death stands


Thai throb, Eliza,

And

is

my

victor by;

thy

thine that latest

pari,

-i^l).

heart,

my

love

and

and

The

o-ccan's roar.

^i=3^=
=*=?,

Farewell, farewell, Eliza dear,


The maid that I adore

less

mi
me

They

soul from thee.

my

saw ye
-If

e^

s^ -
3B

"I

down

'

yard,

the

in

her

W rf
/7ft

h
i

-^

kiss

she's

Jock

ain

in'

the

win

She

laird,

come thy ways

Rab.

to

na come

me,

my

-4

g-g-H
i

Mac

come thy

nab;

-ways

to

my

me,

Ep

pie

Mac-

__. -3-

i
e'er

done,

^J^J-

wel-come

soon, Thou's

thon hast

gain

late,

><=

>

s ^e_T_<3_
*

ain

Jock

thy

What says sho, my deary, my Eppie Macnab?


What says she, my deary, my Eppie Macnab?
She

lets

And

thee to wit, that she has thee forgot,


disowns thee, her ain Jock Rab.

for ever

had I ne'er seen thee, my Eppie Macnab


O had I ne'er seen thee, my Eppie Macnab;
As light as the air, and as fause as thou's fair,
Thou's broken the heart o' thy ain Jock Rab.

Rab.

94

BLAWS 1HE WIND.

CATJLD
U

Moderate.

-&*
&*\

%Se

MEEii
blaws the wind frae

Cauld

east

vest,

to

The

**
<^*

drift
A***!

pa^w
-^

driv

is

T^

,=zr

:pc
load and

sair-ly;Sae

hear the

shrill's I

I'm

blast,

sure

it's

win

- ter

fair - ly.

=*c
Up

no

the morning's

in

for

Up

me,

morn-ing

the

in

ear

- ly

f=8=HF&if^H^t lr
}

the

a'

are

eov

The

birds

hills

wi'

er'd

sit

snaw, I'm

sure

it's

win

ter

When

j.

n
r

fairly.

cluttering on the thorn,


fare but sparely;

A' day they

And

lang's the night frae e'en to morn,

I'm sure

it's

winter

fairly.

Up

in the morning, &c,

THE TITHER MOBN.

a3

J2=

EBE IIjV
The

tither

morn,

w-lrttTd

%=$=$ /b15

When I

forlorn,

neath an oak

sat

moaning,

fm^iw^mim
IBE
ihk
gxiTRfjiTTOTrrmfi
,

fr

did

na

But

I,

what

trow I'd

he

see

my

sac trig,Lap o'er

reck,

Did

least

joy

tlic rig,

cx-,pcct

Be

And

To

mc

side

can

see

ti -

my

ly

crc

the

did cheer

love

sac

gloaming.

mc; When

near me.

95

His bonnet

Fu aft at e'en,
Upon the green

he,

thought a-jee,
Like sodger, sprush and bonnie,

And
Wi'

To meet

I,

When

were blythe an' merry,


cared na by,
Sae sad was I
In absence o' my deary.

wat,

my

true love Johnnie.

But

De'il tak' the -war,

and ear'
since Jock departed

praise be blest,
mind's at rest,
I'm happy wi' my Johnnie.
At kirk and fair,
I'se aye be there,
And be as canty 's ony.

My

I late

Ha'e

cried,

But now

as glad

my

I'm wi'

As

a'

pleasure grat,

lad,

short syne broken hearted.

IT IS NA, JEAN,

THY BONNIE FAC3,

Written by BurnsAir, " The Maid's Complaint,"


This charmingly tender song was contributed by Burns to Johnson's "Museum." In the
"Reliques" he says, "The verses were originally English, but I gave them their Scotch dress."
air was composed by James Oswald, and published in the " Caledonian Pocket Companion "
ia 1742. Though of rather extensive compass, it is a fine specimen of his musical genius.

The

^^^m-^^M
With much feeling.

it

na,

is

though

ben-nie

Jean, thy

thy beau-ty

face,

E?3=d3
?-^h-^

Nor shape

that

thy grace Might weel

and

ad

wauk

-*7^ -1dig-

mire;

do

Al-

sire.

3|gjig^fej
Hi

Some -thing

in

il -

ka

part

o' thee,

To

me,

Still

praise,

to

BRUISE
Kae mair

as

is

thy

Put

find;

3=f=f1=^5:

jtzsat

dear

love,

form

to

imgen'rous wish I ha'e,

Nor stronger in my breast,


Than if I canna mak' thee sae,
At least to see thee blest.

Content

dear

am

I, if

But happiness

And

thy

er

to thee

as wi' thee I'd wish to live,

For thee

rnSi

heav'n shall give

I'd bear to die.

90

ON A BANK OF FLOWERS.

On

dress'cl;

The

mm'
0\

j-9-r-

When
A

bank

offiow'rs, in

youthfu' blooming Xcl

a s

r r

summer

summer

day, For

ly lay, "With love

and sleep

light

op

1/

- prcss'd.

L^rr rf-fcfl^gp
^= r-

Wil-lie wand'ring thro'

the wood,

Who

for

'^3-\

her fa-vour
V

r,/

'

oft

had sued; He

s*
gaz'd,

he wish'd, he

fear'd

he blush'd, And trembled where

Her closed eyes, like weapons sheathed,


Were sealed in soft repose
Her lips, still as she fragrant breath'd,
It richer dy'd the rose.

The springing

lilies, sweetly prest,


Wild, wanton, kiss'd her rival breast
lie gaz'd, he wish'd, he fear'd, he blush'd,
His bosom ill at rest.

Her robes, light, waving in the breeze,


Her tender limbs embrace
Her lovely form, her native ease,
All harmony and grace.
Tumultuous

tides his pulses roll,

faltering, ardent kiss

he stole;
lie blmh'd,

He gaz'd, lie wish'd, lie fear'd,


And sigh'd his very soul.
As

flics

On

the partridge from the brake,

fear inspired wings,

So Nelly

Away

starting, half awake,

affrighted springs;

he

stood,

07

But Willie

folWd,as

lie

should

He overtook her in the wood


He vow'd, he pray'd, he found the maid
Forgiving

and good.

all

THERE'S THREE GOOD FELLOWS AYONT YON GLEN.


The tune appears in M'Gibboifs " Collection
is all that remains of this old song.
of Scots Tunes," 1740. The words here given are partly by Burns, with some modern additions.
The choius
Lively.

j&-jf 9-Th
*

-en-

There's three true good

^s
tliree

the

=Jfc

night

Down

lows,

be

fa

- lie

al

- yor.t

Whase

thou shalt ken. There's three

now

glen. It's

cock

true good

good

lows

Graham and

noble Gordon,
brave is coining;
Cameron, Macgregor, and Logan,

There's

Wf

And

a' their

Highlandmen.

There's three true,

ecc.

*Tis they that are aye the foremost

"Whene'er the battle

is

warmest;

The bravest and the kindest


Of a' Highlandmen.
There's three true,

&a

is

at

daw'ing, But

craw

zi-^i
a

ing

ZjSZ

3^EdE

fel-lows, There's three

Down

There's

Se^

:fc=:

fel -

the day

best

Begin the succeeding verse at the mark

And Lindsay

fel - lows,

al

=*=!=
yon

m^mm

lows, There's three true

=^zq:

if

'^=&

-p-

g=*E
fel -

- ing,

tt=s=&
Wil

lows, There's three brave loy

f d

-~:

true good fel

ere

fel -

yont

brave

3*
yon

glen.

:J$

now there's no retreating,


The clans are a' a-waiting,

And

loy-

every heart is beating


For honour and for fame.
There's three true good fellows,
There's three brave loyal fellows,
There's thrice three good fellows
Down ayont yon glen.

93

KACPHERSON'S FAEEWELL.
Air, "ILlcphbbsok's Bast.*'

t_zN-

Fare

- -well

ye dungeons dark and strong, The "wretch's

he

not

pher-son's time will

On

long,

yon

des

der

tin - ie;

gal

lows

Mac-

tree.

*-Sae

rant-ing

play'd a

spring,

wan-ton

sac

- ly,

and dane'd

what

is

On mony

dan-ton

Sae

- ly,

"ft*'

***

E;

it

round,

Be

=^

L
-

gaed he

ly

neath the

death, but parting breath ?


a blood}' plain

I've daur'd his face, and in this place


I scorn him yet again.

Sae rantingly, &c.


Untie these bands frae aff my hands,
And bring to me my sword
And there's no a man in a' Scotland,
But I'll brave him at a word.
Sae rantingly, &c.
I've lived a life of sturt and strife,
I die by treacheric
It burns my heart I must depart,
And not avenged be.
Sae rantingly, &c.
;

Now

farewell light, thou sunshine bright,

And

May

all beneath the sky


coward .shame disdain

The wretch

his

name,

that darts not die.

Sae rantingly, &c,

^=

He

e--

gal - lows tree.

; ;

;;

99

LOVE WILL VENTURE

in

where

will venture in

love

where wisdom ance has been

daurna weel be

it

But

IN.

seen;

love

down yon

will

liv

er

will

venture

rove,

rail.

m 9
j # zfi_i
mangthe woods sae green, And

The primrose

to

a'

^ ^

pu'

sie

to

my

am

year

I will pu', the firs tl in' o' the

emblem o* my dear
For she's the pink o' womankind, and blooms without a
And a' to be a posie for my ain dear May.

And

l_^_ g _,

:_g

po

will pu' the pink, the

pu' the buddin' rose,

peer

when Phoebus

peeps in view,
her sweet, bonnie mou'
Ihe hyacinth's for constancy, wi' its unchanging blue;
And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May.

I'll

For

it's

like a

baumy

kiss

o'

The

lily it is pure,

And

in her lovely

The

daisy's for simplicity, of unaffected air

And

a' to

be a posie to

The hawthorn I
Where,

and the lily it is fair,


bosom I'll place the lily there

my

ain dear

will pu', wi' its locks

an aged man,

May.
o'

siller-gray,

stands at break o' day


But the songster's nest within the bush I winna take away;
And a' to be a posie for my ain dear May.
like

it

The woodbine I will pu' when the e'ening star is near,


And the diamond draps o' clew shall be her e'en sae clear
The violet's for modesty, which weel she fa's to wear
And a' to be a posie for my ain dear May.

the posie round wi' the silken band o' love,


place it in her breast, and I'll swear by a' above,
That to the latest breath o' life the band shall ne'er remove,

I'll tie

And

I'll

And

this will

be a posie to

my

ain dear

May.

dear May.

100

HEBFS A HEALTH TO ANE

U sonc. among the

Dumfries,

who

LO'E DEAB.

Weitt-n by Buess.
Barns ever wrote, was addressed

List

Lcwars of

to Miss Jessie

_:hbed.

Tenderly.

A
II ..

IBI
-ei- g ZZlg

.:;

Thou

e'r- M

sweet

art

-4-

-S

the

as

.-

a-

smile

when

v-n

-....

.
.

v-

*~r

N
ane

bo

And

meet,

kof - er3

lo'e

*^

*-=-S

-N

e*0

-0:

ing

ven

de

spair

Al

- sie.

though thou maun ne-ver

ing,

=vT
hope

Tis

is

Than

be

S^E

sweet

er

for

=?s=rn

*^~

tfcee

Jes

tear,

3=^

=P^

aught in

world

the

he

- side,

Jes

- sie,

mourn through the gay gaudy day,


As hopeless I muse on thy charms
But welcome the dream o' sweet slumber,
I

For then I

am

lock'd in thy arms, Jessie.

by the dear angel smile,


guess by the love-rolling e'e

I guess
I

But why urge

fell

THOUGH
cruel fate 5-hould bid us part,
f^r's the r cle and line,
>.

dear idea round my heart


Should tenderlv entv

Her

the tender confession,

'Gainst fortune's

cruel decree, Jessie.

CUTJEL FATE.
gh mountains frown and deserts howl
oceans roar between
Yet, dearer than my deathle s soul,
.1 wou!d love my Jean.

And

Di WT FLOWERS,
"Dauti Datdl"

HOW EOSY &AY COMES


Am
I

n -

p *

-"
.

^j

*fr-*
i

Mit

d-f]

,m

The

e:5

lo

*^~

~
^tf

cT

_^-

# K

-;..-.

crys-tal

_..

"

s.

^-f-r

.
9 f

il

Kenl

.:_ -#-*-:

wT

'ring

-^ZftZZ -m

_^

^~~

mer

In

-ry

=3-2

^_=:
_a

nrjf

wi

wan-aer

round

es

p>1

^:

us

ei ::tzz

TfTf

^g:
Dar-ifi

VI

And now come in a

il

pi

i'-j j

PLV ^f=

l=-5i

j j

enbow'rs;

j
'

se_

13.

_ n **
A 1W
'

%J

1. .^

d s

Dain -:y

3 Q

Nw

:--:;

i=3E=i

^2H
There

rn spend

^= j~g~

Hie

Wba
al

Then thi
To meet
.

upon her early

fare

[ a vie-

in

When

day, expiring in the xt


The curtain draws o' nature's rest

1*11 fiee

to his

arms

And

that's

my

11.

I lo'c

dainty Davie,

::.:.

...

^_

_*,
ti

laia

rj

102

LAY THY LOOF IN MINE,

IASS.

Written bt Burns Air, " The Cordwaixer's March.'

This song was written for Johnson's "Museum." "The Cordwainer's March " may be called
the "gathering tune" of the ancient and honourable fraternity of sutors, and was usually played
at their annual procession on St. Crispin's day. The last great procession of the craft t~>ok place
in Edinburgh, about forty years ago. Mr. Sawers, bootmaker, of that city, swayed the regal
sceptre on the occasion.
Moderate.

~W-

in mine,

thy

lay

IS
E^-^i

swear on

thy white hand,

lass,

=P
mine,

lass,

^:

afccfc

r" **
a & *
H
*/f
* ki

0-'9

mine,

lass,

jrrjra-jc

MFg--E-g=E-l
w=%=\m

That thou wilt

my

be

ain.

&
p-

U
'/

bounded sway, He

aft

slave to love's un-

" \

/
p

And

lass,

L#

lr

has wrought

"

U
/

me meik

le

[-*

[L r

wae;

But

u>

il

R *J

4*3*

now he

a
I

]/

*f
TT

is

my

rail.

^st^ifw^f&m^ypirrM
dead

mine,

ly

lass,

fae,

Un

lessthou'ltbe

my

lay thy loof

ain.

F=t=

TTymy

And swear on thy white hand, lass, That thou wilt be

in mine, lass,

Begin the second verse at the sign


There's

mony

a lass has broke

my rest,

That for a blink I ha'e lo'ed best


But thou art queen within my breast,
For ever to remain.

LOUIS,
Louis,

what reck

in mine, lass, In

by

lay thy loof in mine, lass,


In mine, lass, in mine, lass,
And swear on thy white hand,
That thou wilt be my ain.

WHAT RECK

thee,

Or Geordie on his ocean ?


Dyvor, beggar loons to me,
I reign in Jeanie's bosom.

ain.

'>$\

Ias3,

BY THEF.
my love her law,
her breast enthrone me,
nations, swith awa'

Let her crown

And

in

Kings and

lieif randies, I

disown ye.

103

THE LOVELY LASS

INVERNESS.

G'

Burns has very successfully imitated the old ballad style in this pathetic song. (The first half
stanza is old.) "The fatal battle of Culloden, or Drummossie muir, was fought on the 16th of
April, 1746. The air, composed by James Oswald, was published in the "Caledonian Pocket
Companion,"

1759.

Slow and plaintive.

-^53:

The

love

ly

In

lass o'

ver

ness,

Nae joy

^mm^mm^
d&-

see;

For e'en and morn she

-5-P-

- sie

muir,

Drum

las!

crie?,

giIt^S^^
Drummos

*=-.*-,pc

eS3e

mos

- sie

day,

the

my

fa - ther dear,

wae

z=f>TZ iflzrj
- fu'

day

My

fa - ther

it

That ever
Now wae to

lies

to

bretn

me, For

TH

woman's

e'e.

thou cruel lord,

A bluidy man I trow thou be,


For mony a heart thou hast made sair
That ne'er did wrang to thine or thee.

HEB FLOWING
Her flowing

wing,
Adown her neck and bosom hing
How sweet unto that breast to cling,
And round that neck entwine her
locks, the raven's

LOCK?.

Her

Oh

lips are roses

what a

wet wi' dew.

feast her bonnie mou'l

Her cheeks a mair

A crimson still

celestial hue,

diviner.

l-U

ren three.

the dearest lad

blest a
thee,

was

^__J
and

dear

Their winding sheet the bluidy clay,


Their graves are growing green to see

And by them

tear blinds her e'e.


rail.

T-

she

&

saut

=S_
lost

can

pleasure

rpfefT

And aye

^-1

nor

; :

m
Okaigie-bukn WOOD.
"Cridjrie-bnrn weod is situated on the banks of the river Moffat, about three miles from the
Tillage of that name. The woods of Craigie-burn and Putncrieff were at one time favourite haunts
of Burns. It was there he met the 'Lassie wi' the lint- white locks,' and there he conceived
several of his beautiful lyrics." I)r. Curne.
..

gSSs

With expression.

the

pride

o'

springs re

fe^g
see

Can

turn

wea

ry

me

nocht but

&

hear the wild birds singing;

bo

som

wringing

my

grave they'll wither.

DELUDED SWAIN, THE PLEASURE.


Air,

"The

Collier's Bonnie Lassie."

Deluded swain, the pleasure

The

fickle fair

can give thee,

Is but a fairy treasure

Thy

hopes will soon deceive thee.

The billows on the ocean,


The breezes idly roaming,
The clouds' uncertain motion,
They are but types of woman.

But

If thou refuse to pity me,


If thou shalt love anitber
When yon green leaves fade frae the tree,

Around

langer.

sor-row.

'tf

wight can please, And

it

wm

yield

mts'n

the flow'rs and spreading trees,

Fain, fain would I my griefs impart,


Yet darena for your anger
But secret love will break my heart,
If I conceal

Oh

art thou not

ashamed

To doat upon a feature?


If man thou would'st be named,
Despise the silly creature.

Go, find an honest fellow

Good claret set


Hold on till thou

And

before thee
art mellow,

then to bed in glory.

105

THE HIGHLAND WIDOW'S LAMENT.


Written by Burns Gaelic

Air,

this pathetic lamentation was written for the " Museum," and appeared in the fifth volume of
that work. Allan Cunningham and Hogg wrote additional verses, out we prefer giving the song
as it came from the pen of Burns. The rine tune to which it is adapted, Burns obtained from ;t
lady in the north of Scotland. ''The unrelenting cruelties of the Duke of Cumberland spared
neither age, sex, nor condition and Scotland for a while realized the prophecy of Peden, which
foretold that the time was nigh when her people might ride fifty miles among her hills and
valleys, and not find a reeking house, nor hear a crawing cock." Jucobite Minstrelsy.
;

u
ff

Mournfully.

rr-<*

Oh,

rie

am come

Without a

to

the

penny

in

j=g=gn

low

my

was na sae in tlis Hieland hills,


Ochon, cchon, ochrie:
Nae woman in the country wido
Sae happy was as me.
I

had a

purse,

It

For there

countrie,

To

r,

Och

buy

r_g_p
on,

meal

was the happiest


Sair, sair

may

cch

o* a'

on,

\joch-

to

the clan,

I repine

For Donald was the brawest man,


And Donald he was mine.

score o' kye,

Till Charlie Stuart

Sae

Ochon, ochon, ochrie;


Feeding on yon hill sae high,
And bringing milk to me.

far, to set

cam' at

us free

last,

My

Donald's arm was wanting then,


For Scotland and for me.

And

Their waefu' fate what need I tell,


Right to the wT rang did yield
My Donald and his country fell
Upon Culloden field.

there I had threescore o' yowes,


Ochon, ochon, ochrie
Skippin' on yon bonirie knowes,
And casting woo to me.

Ochon, ochon, oh, Donald, oh,


Ochon, ochon, ochrie;
Nae woman in the warld wido
Sae wretched now as me.
* Oh,

my

heart

SWEETEST MAY.
Sweetest May, let love inspire thee
Take a heart which he desires thee;
As thy constant slave regard it

Proof o' shot to birth or money


Not the wealthy, but the bonnie;
Not high-born, but noble-minded,

For

In love's silken band can bind

its faith

and truth reward

it.

it.

106

THE PLOUGHMAN.
Lively*

m S
.

rj/
/L_ p
o ^
"
,

em
vU
e/

p
^

garfl

U
.A

(n
"P
f

tJ

*
r
/

ters

knit

A
i

In

,\)

K
*

"

U
^

i/

'

fc

J^

low

a
*

s
i\

a'

up

wi't now,

^
J

Then

re

my

the trades that

do

ken,

(0) I will "wash

And
I will

my

And

my

hey

my

mer

e'en,

ploughman's bed,
early.

(Wi') Snaw-white stockings on his

legs,

buckles glancin',
guid blue bonnet on his head,
And O but he was handsome.
up, &c.

&

F)

been at St. Johnston

Then

blue,

'**

'

'"1/

But the bonniest sight that e'er I saw,


AY as the ploughman laddie dancing.
Then up, &c.

a
i

is

ploughman's hose,

siller

it

^00

I ha'e been east, I ha'e been west,

And

r
I

\
r

t*

Com - mend me

him late and


Then up, &c.

I ha'e

His

true, jo;

jo.

0*0

up, &c.

cheer

net

I will dress his o'erlay,

make

er

comes hame at
He's aften wat and weary
Cast off the wat, put on the dry,
And gae to bed, my deary.

(And)

'

u
Ir

bon

'

My ploughman he

Then

ev

is

ploughman lad, And

\
P

-A-

1^

knee, His

his

\ N
r
J

mind

His

'

be

lad,

rr 5*1

^=^es=

The ploughman he's a hon-nie

f)

=i=p

v-

to

'

ry ploughman

O'

the plough-man.

;;

107

Commend me to the bara-3'ard,


And the corn-mou', man

my

never gat

Till I

coggie

YESTEEEN

HAD A PINT

pint

h^

F-i

treen lay

on

i-j

breast

this

WINE.

0'

"Bank3 of Banna."

Air,

fu',

met wi' the ploughman.


Then up, &c.

o'

wine,

o'

-A
mine The

den locks

wil -der-ness,

Re

joic-ing o'er

3
z
nae - thing

to

hin

the

ny

bliss,

Ye monarchs,

Up

on the

tak' the east

lips

and west,

Frae Indus to Savannah


me within my straining grasp
The melting form of Anna.
Then I'll despise imperial charm3,
An empress or sultana
"While dying raptures in her arm3
I give and take from Anna.
Gi'e

Awa', thou flaunting god o' day,


Awa', thou pale Diana;
Ilk star gae hide thy twinkling ray,
When I'm to meet my Anna.
Come, in thy raven plumage, night,
Sun, moon, and stars, withdrawn
And bring an angel pen to write

My

transports wi'

my

Anna.

a';

his

An

o'

hun-gry Jew in

LSE|E|&g=El

-J

tQ^^
==
The

saw na Yes-

place where bod-y

==

:rtat=
man

na.

na,

Was

103

HUSBAND, HUSBAND, CEASE YOUft STRIFE.


"My

AiRt

jo Janet."

LivtJp.

z=$

'Husband,

Though

am

hus-band, cease your

your wed

3=33

ded

strife,

wife,

Nor

Yet

long

am

of

two

must

Z
Is

11

it

man

wo

or

man,

"

ly

your

rave,

slave,

Nan

cy;

cy?

it

must,

trust in

Heaven,

Strength to bear it will be given,


My spouse Nancy."

sir,

wed

aoither like

my

dear,

Nancv, Nancv;

My

spouse

hope and
Nancy, Nancy

I will

from the silent dead,


daunt you
Ever round your midnight bed
Horrid sprites shall haunt you."

Then

3.

My poor heart then break


My last hour I'm near it

Still I'll try to

I'll

IS

sir."

lay me in the dust,


Think, think how I'll bear it."

"

I be, so bereft,

Nancy, Nancy;
Yet I'll try to make a shift,
My spouse Nancy."

41

Nan

sir;

When you

good-bye allegiance."

" Well,

My

say,

so,

cy,

=S=t

'tis still the lordly word,


Service and obedience
I'll desert my sovereign lord,

And

not

Nan

still

If

" Sad will

id

sa^==
=

e3E
One

er

all hell will fly for fear,

spouse Nancy."

100

BONNIE WAS YON ROSY BRIER.


Written bt Burns Am, "The wee, wee Man."
this song to Mr. Thomson in 1795. In a letter, he says, " I do not know whether I
If you like the song, it may go as Scottish verses to
right, but that song pleases me.
.
.
.
love were in the mire."' Mr. Thomson published the song in the third
I wish
volume of his collection, to the air of "The wee, wee man." This air, which greatly resembles
" Garry Owen," had previously appeared in Johnson's " Museum," with the original words, which
we give entire. AVe are indebted to old David Herd for the recovery of this singular fragment.

Burns sent

am

the air

my

of

.^

With feeling.

g)?

* J

was

ar C

she,

and

man, And bon-nie

mm

Yon rosebuds

j'
i

sy brier That blooms sae far frae

v^trv

thorny path

How

vow They

- er's

fair

o' care.

o*

i^^ErH-S'rj^H
e

pure,

amang

en-m

witness'd

But

BE

v-

their

in

sun.

the leaves sae green

-J

lov

its rude and prickly bower,


That crimson rose, how sweet and
But love is far a sweeter flow'r,
life's

haunt

rf-pEteg^

All in

Amid

y
'

Oh! how dear

morning dew,

the

in

was the

er

yon

nio

bon

shade

yestreen.

The pathless wild, and wimpling bum,


Wi' Chloris in my arms, be mine

And

I the warld,

Its joys

and

nor wish nor scorn,

griefs alike resign.

THE YOUNG HIGHLAND ROVER.


Loud blaw the frosty breezes,
The snaws the mountains cover;
Like winter on
Since

my

me

seizes,

young Highland Kcver

Far wanders nations over.


Where'er he go, where'er he stray,
May Heaven be his warden,
Keturn him c afe to fair Strathspey,
And bonnie Castle- Gordon.
.

trees now naked groaning,


Shall soon wi' leaves be hinging,

The

The

birdies dowie

moaning,

be blvthely singing,
And every flower be springing.
Sae I'll rejoice the lee-lang day,
Shall

a'

When by

My

his

mighty warden,

youth's returned to fair Strathspey,

And

bonnie Castle- Gordon.

110

BANNOCKS
Ain,

0'

"Ths

BEAR MEAL
Killogie."

Lively.

bar

ley

Here's to

the

High-land-man's

Begin the second verse

ban-nocks

at the sign

$1

Wha
Wba

In his wae days were loyal to Charlio?


1
but the lads wi the bannocks o' barley.
Bannocks o' bear meal, and bannocks o' barley,
Here's to the Highlandman's bannocks o' barley.

HERE'S

A BOTTLE AND AN HONEST FRIEND.

Ilere's a bottle

and an honest

What wad ye

Wha

wish

kens, before his

What

his share

Then catch

friend

for mair,
life

may

may

be

man?

end,

o' care,

man?

moments as they fly,


And use them as ye ought, man:
the

Believe me, happiness

And comes na

is

shy,

ave when sought, man.

bar

ley.

;;

Ill

WILT THOU BE MY DEARIE 1


Words by Buens.
is

This fine song was written in honour of Miss Janet Miller of Dalswinton. The air to which it
adapted is the first part of a strathspey, called "The Souter's dochter," printed in Breniner*s

collection, 17G4.

^
-JP&-

Tenderly.

N-

=#=
thou

Wilt

i
i

:p

-^

-ySEfEESfcK

my

he

dearie

ZN=1-

thou

ine cheer thee?

let

row wrings thy

By

the treasures of

my

swear and vow

that

on

ly

thou,

swear

Lassie, say thou lo'es


if

refuse

and

vow

my

my

bosom

fire,

waste my soul with care


But, ah! how bootless to admire,

And

When

my

be

my

me quickly dee,
Trusting that thou lo'es me.

ANNA, THY CHAHMS.

fated to despair

thy presence, lovely fair,


To hope may be forgiven
For sure 'twere impious to despair,
So much in sight of Heaven.

Yet

in

dearie.

^3 ^

Lassie, let

it

Anna, thy charms

he

Let me lassie, quickly dee,


Trusting that thou lo'es me.

ain,

me

winna, canna be,


Thou for thine may choose me,
If

ever

ver

Shall

me

thou wilt not be

Say na thouTt

love

l^zzpSz

:3=ES:

a=

On -ly

Or,

=
the

soul, That's

thou Shall

^4f=?C

i
w

heart,

^zzjfcgt
UfcZ*!*:

bear thee

gentle

-J^^?.w=l

=P^=

:tP&=P=

-^= w-

sor -

-#

"3 wilt

When

112

POORTITH

CATJLD.

^^

Sloivly.

3=#
O

poor

- tith

*3=t

rest - less

cauld, an'

Yet

3-0;

poortith

could for

a'

my

wreck

peace be-

Wfr >-rt

iattJLJ GHt'>
tween

Yc

love,

- gi'e,

And

'twere

na

for

my

PRE-.q-=!-g-F - , --a - g-- g -i----*-T14-F^-^fi-^-T-^p--[-^y*J

-a-o-

Jeanie.

0,

hb

why

=P=P

EE
why

should fate

sae sweet

sic

pleasure ha'e Life's dearest hands en-twining? Or

*-#-

rlow'r

as

This warld's wealth, when I think on


The pride an a' the lave o't
Fie, fie on silly coward man,
That he should be the slave o't.
O, why, &c.

love

Her

talks of rank

and

O wha

on

for - tune's shining?

can prudence think upon,


a lassie by him ?
can prudence think upon,

sic

O wha
An sae

in love as I

am ?

O, why, &c.

ITow

een sae bonnie blue, betray


she repays my passion;
prudence is her o'erword aye,

0, why,

pend

An'

How
But
She

De

humble

blest the

cottar's fata,

He

wooes his simple dearie


The silly bogles, wealth and state,
Can never mak' him eerie.
O, why, &c.

fashion.

&c

TIBBIE DUNBAR.
Air,

"JomrHlE M'Gill;"

or,

"Come under my

Plaidie."

Dunbar ?
wilt thou go wi' me, sweet Tibbie Dunbar?
Wilt thou ride on a horse, or be drawn on a car,
Or walk by my side,
sweet Tibbie Dunbar?
wilt thou go wi' me, sweet Tibbie

carena thy d&ddie, his lands and his money,


carena thy kin, sae high and sae lordly
say thou wilt ha'e me, for bettr for waur,
And come in thv coatie, sweet Tibbie Dunbar.

1
I

13 ut

BUET:BEHOLD THE HOUR TEE BOAT ARRIVE.


Arranged

pSp

Blow and with creat

1st Voice.

for this

work by A. Hume.

Gaelic Air, Oran ganiL

/-

feeling.

3sz$=Zf=r_

-i

Be -hold the hour, the

boat

ar

- rive,

Thou go-est, thou

P^=i-

dar-ling

rny

of

2d Voice.

^z-h-7 ^jP^^^feg
Be-hold the hour, the boat ar-rire, Thou

heart

Ah

sever'd from thee can

go-est,

fc:

thou darling

sur-vive? But fate has will'd, and

^^^E^^^^^
heart

Ah

sever'd from then can

ff
J
*
if

s -i

g>

'

I'll

oft -

en

3 !
-*4

i^*

survive

-_u_s
i*

y_

greet this surg-ing swell,

~-

oft -

en

=2

(H
here

rra

Yon

dis

took

fare-well,

There

s^^=

isle will

oft

-en

hail; E'en

-*-

-ft-

'

tant

!a - test

^^

the

,1

isle will

oft

-en

^
hail;

E'en

ZZ
last

last

mark'd her

van-ish'd

sail.

van-ish'd

sail.

z^zz^^S

:zt=fc
here

-^5=^

t _k

9=25

greet this surg-ing swell,

the

r*g-

:5=

we must part.

has will'd, and

Yon dis-tant

^T=r

-r-r
took

fate

ira"^:

we must part.

M M

t^-^

3=

I'll

But

my

of

fere-well,

Along the solitary shore,


While flitting sea-fowl round mc

There

la

test

mark'd her

Happy, thou Indian grove,


cry,

Across the rolling, dashing roar,


I'll westward turn my wistful eye.

I'll say,

Where now my Nancy's path may be?


While

thy sweets she loves to stray,


me, does she muse on me ?

thro'

tell

18

DUETYE BANKS AND BRAES


Composed by James

E5=

=3

=5=^3=

-^

nie Doon, Iiow

can

ye bloom sae

Ye

banks and braes

o'

ben

nie Doon,

How

can

ye

and

fair?

How

can

ye

sae

2j

hg.

fair?

wea

How

^~=\
ye

can

ry

fir

war-bling

wea

bird,

ry

fu'

That

wan

--

war-bling

wan

That

<*,

fe

lit

=L=^=

tons through th3

g:

my

=F5=!s

me

o'

do

part

cd

joys,

De

minds

me

o'

de

part

ed

Joys,

De

my

flow'

^
flow'

heart, thou

ry thorn; Thou

^"71
!*

part

ed

nc

cd

ne

ry thorn; Thou

na

ver

ver

to

re

to

re

ra
-

turn.

^=j=

LZ|5i

rart

f*

S^H

3s=-^=

~F

heart, thou

p^EJ^=a=gj=3^

minds

-t

-i*

And

birds,

tie

F~

Thou'lt break

^-

o)^

Thoa'lt break

tons through the

'

bird,

PP
^

ii

care.

o*

And

birds,

tie

-iE^^=g^Bi=

(M *-

H-

ye
"

care.

o'

chant,

---g
ac

lit

bloom sae

tv

"]

ye

chant,

and

fresh

N^e

Ye

bon

U-*

u._

o*

fresh

J4-*

r*zre

?^-

banks and braes

U-S

Hum*

work by A.

for this

With feeling.

1st Voice.

BONNIE DOON.

0'

Arranged

Miller.

turn.

>

10
Oft hae I rov'd

To

by bonnie Doon,

see the rose

And ilka bird


And fondly

and woodbine twine

sang

o' its love,

sae did I o' mine.

Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose,


Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree

And my

fause lover stole

But ah

he

TES BBAES
Andante

my

rose,

left

the thorn wi' me,

(V

BALLGGEOTLE,

affttuoso.

wild-woods'

e-choes

Low

rang, Fare

in

weel, fare - weel, sweet

your wintry beds, ye flowers,


ye' 11 flourish fresh and fair;

Again

Ye

birdies dumb, in withering bowers,


Again ye'll charm the vocal air;
But here, alas for me nae mair
!

Shall birdie charm, or flow'ret smile


Fareweel the bonnie banks o' Ayr,
Fareweel, fareweel
sweet Ballochmyle
!

rial

-loch

myle.

20

MY
In moderate

time.

mei

o'

jew

tree,

my

TOCHER'S THE JEWEL.

kin

kle thinks

But

lit

has charms

el

It's

for

my

lure

o'

- tie

thinks

my

for

the

him.

my bcau-ty, And

It's

hin-ney

luve

a'

ken brawlie,

for

mei-kle thinks my

ap

the

pie

he'll

cher

ish

the

He

can

na

hae luve

bee;

My

he'll

My

luve

toch-er's

nour

Ish

lad-die's

the

the

sae

g^^^^JH
mei-kle

Tour

proffer

My
But

in

o'

lovewi' the

hive's

sil-ler,

an arle-penny,

Sae ye wf anither your fortune maun

for

me.

Ye're like to the timmer o' yon rotten wood,


Ye re like to the bark o' yon rotten tree,
Ye'll slip frae me like a knotless thread,
try. And ye'll crack your credit wT maenor me.

tocher's the bargain ye -wad buy


am cunnin',

an' ye be crafty, I

to spare

BRAW, BRAW LADS.

Braw, braw lads on Yar-row braes,

Sill
f

But Yarrow

Ye wan-der through

*=3ut=iz
braes, nor Ettrick shaws,

Can match

the blooming

&?:

the lads

-1

o'

+-t

hea-therj

3S ^

" " ^BT-i


* U
braw lads.

Gal-la water. Braw,

21

But there is ane, a


Aboon them a' I

And

secret ane,

him

lo'e

better;

be his, and he'll be mine,


bonnie lad o' Galla water.

I'll

The

Although

his daddie was nae laird,


And though I hae na meikle tocher,
Yet rich in kindest, truest love,
We'll tent our flocks by Galla water.

It ne'er

That

was wealth,

ne'er

it

was wealth,

coft contentment, peace, or pleasure

The bands and

mutual

bliss o'

love,

O, that's the chiefest warld's treasure

I'M

OWRE YOUNO

TO

MARRY

YET.

Lively.

will

have you learn,

lads,

That ye

for

me maun

tar

ry yet. For I'm, V.C.

For I have had my ain way,


Nane daur to contradict me yet j
Sae soon to say I wad obey,
In truth, I daurna venture yet.
For I'm, &c
shrill the frosty wind
Blaws through the leafless timmer,
But if ye come this gate again,

Fu' loud and

I'll

aulder be gin simmer, Sir.

For I'm,

&c

Sir

22

GANE AWA' FRAE ME, MARY!

DTJET-THOTJ AET

Arranged by A. Hume.
With feeling.

Treble.

Thou

<

gane

art

tgb^^=j

a
P P

P-ii

wa*,

6 -
-*

_3

TiaF fcr

gane

thou art

wa',

Thou

art

'J~^ J^

-^

yt,

gane

could

make

wa'

'^"r-~f

',

;-+_ju-

g' =&=-

*V

i^

m-.f

thee

me,

frae

stay,

._+*

Thou hast

*)*=-Pt=a=-Sf *f
t=

*---*-

a?Ala

cheat

f'

f-4

ryl

cd

P'"t"
Uj
j

Nor

*^

friends

them

-#--ptf-pr-

***

-^t=

*tJ

nor

and

"a

!-:

^ ^
I

me,

==^
=^-r ^i
!

di
-

could

^=&-

al - ter

thee,

Ma

ry;

Thou'rt

-*

still

=PP3C

-(
the

mis -tress

fr=W~-

of

-M-fap

Tho' you've been

Whate'er he said or might pretend,

Wha

Nae maid

love.

I'm

sure,

And my

heart

[Here repeat the

it

first

Let friends forget, as

I forgive,

stounds with an

I'll

Thy wrongs

to

Mary

them and me, Mary

of this be sure,
Since you've been false to me, Mary,
For all the world I'd not endure
Half what I've done for thee, Mary

lichtly

BONNIE

yet while I live

like thee,

So then

thought of thee, Mary


Ambition, wealth, nor naething such,
No, I lov'd only thee, Mary.

Nor

false,

woo

Mary;

was ne'er his end,


Nor nae sic love as mine, Mary.
spake sincere, ne'er flatter'd much,

True
I

stole that heart o' thine,

; !

WEE

guish,

farewell

THING.

Lest

my

wee thing be

na

mine.

part of the music, and commence the following stanzas with the
second part:]

"Wit and grace, and love and beauty,


In ae constellation shine
To adore thee is my duty,
Goddess of this soul o' mine.

Bonnie wee thing, canny wee thing,


Lovely wee thing, wert thou mine,
I wad wear thee in my bosom,
Lest

my jewel

should

tino.

24

DUT:-AE FOND

WE

AND THEN

KISS,

SEVEfc.
Arranged by A. Hume.

Adagio-

1st Voice.

ev

Deep

er;

in

heart-wrung tears

I'll

Deep

I SE *=

heart-wrung tears

in

I'll

a-

I'll

l*
wage

thee.

Who

and groans

Til

wage

thee.

Who

im

>

giCf

shall say that

for

-tune grieves him,

say

for

shall

that

m
1

While the

O
TS

star

of

hope she

ft
h

-P

-vWhile the

Sfc=te

Itar

^H

=t=
lights

li^hia

of

him?

she

leaves

Me, nae cheer

fu

h
s
f t2^z=^
r~

ts

tT^

~t"

hope

tunc grieves him,

_:

him?

Me,

_^_*

ra=

me.

Ae fond

me Dark

me.

Ae

despair

a-round be -nights

tv.in

fui)d

A
kiss.

kiss.

kle
-

vZZ-jv

nae cheer- fu' twin

:^=3T
gzzz^ j ?=^

'

me; Dark despair a-round be-nights

$ir~-

leaves

(-=

F*.

War-ring sighs

pledge thee,

eg

"

and groans

War-ring sighs

pledge thee,

"jr-

k!e

I'll ne'er blame


Naething could

my

my Nancy

But to see her, was to love her


Love but her, and love for ever.
[Had we never loved sae kindly,
Had we never loved sae blindly,

Never met or never parted,


"We had ne'er been broken-hearted.]

marked

Note. Sir Walter Scott says of the lines thus


contains the essence of a thousand love-tales."

SOOTS

WHA

Fare-thee-weel, thou first and fairest


Fare- thee- weel, thou best and dearest
Thine be ilka joy and treasure,
Peace, enjoyment, love, and pleasure
Ae fond kiss, and then we sever
Ae farewell, alas for ever
Deep in heart- wrung tears I'll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.

partial fancy,

resist

! ! !

! ;

HA'E

"This exquisitely affecting stanza

[ ],

WT WALLACE

BLED.
Air, " Hey, tuttie, tattie."

Scots,

Wei

wha

hae

wi'

come

to

your

the

day

an'

Wal-lace bled, Scots,

go

ry

See

Wha will
Wha will

ap-proach proud

now's the hour;

af

led

bat

of

front

sla

your sons in

!=

lour

tie

ve

and pains,

servile chains,

will drain our dearest veins,

But they

Lay

ten

to

oppression's woes

We

Ep-E

the

By
By

vie

to

1 5= $
See

Bruce has

Ed-ward's power, Chains and

be a traitor knave ?
a coward's grave?
"Wha sae base as be a slave?
Let him turn and flee
Wha, for Scotland's king and law,
Freedom's sword will strongly draw,
Freeman stand, or freeman fa',
Let him follow me
fill

Or

bed,

Now's

wham

shall be free.

the proud usurpers low

Tyrants

every foe
Liberty's in every blow
Let us do or die
fall in

26

MY

Now

i
w-

her green man-tie blythe Na-ture

in

*-

NANNIE'S AWA\

that

^_

ka green shaw; But

*S
But

to

Nannie's

^
de

it's

light

tens

the

wel - come

my

de-light-less,

it's

=33=

lis -

S^Spi

me

to

3S

TF

And

ower the braes, While birds war - ble

bleat

w
il

- rays,

EpE
lambkins

ar

in

7
a - wa\

?=!=

- less,

my

wa\

Nannie's

The snaw-drap and primrose our woodlands adorn,


And violets bathe in the weet o' the mom
They pain my sad bosom, sae sweetly they blaw
They mind me o' Nannie and Nannie's awa.

Thou laverock, that springs frae the dews of the lawn,


The shepherd to warn of the grey-breaking dawn,

And

thou mellow mavis, that hails the night-fa'


for pity
my Nannie's awa'.

Give over

Come, autumn, sae

And
The

pensive, in yellow and grey,


soothe me wi' tidings o' Nature's decay
dark, dreary winter, and wild-driving snaw,

Alane can delight

me

my Nannie's awa'.

EATTLIN', ROARIN' WILLII


Lively.

-\

fe*

rat-tlin*,

&-

his

iid-dle

roar

- in'

\/-

beheld

Wil-lie,

prq=g E

And buy some

the

fair,

An'

for

to

sell

|L -

to

ther

wave; But part

ing

wi'

his

fid-die,

The

iHHiHgi^lIip^glB
saut tear blTn't

his e'e

And

rat

- tlin',

roar-in' Wil-lie, Ye're

welcome hame

to

me.

0, Willie, come sell your fiddle,


0, sell your fiddle sae fine

As I cam' by

O, Willie, come sell your fiddle,


And buy a pint o' wine.
If I should sell my fiddle,
The warl' would think I was mad,
For mony a rantin' day
My fiddle and I hae had.

Rattlin', roarin' Willie

JOCKEY'S TA'EN
A

Crochallan

I cannily keekit ben,

Was

yon boord-en'
yon boord-en',
guid companie

sittin' at

Sittin' at

And amang

Rattlin', roarin' Willie,

Ye're welcome

THE PAIRTIN'

name

to

me.

KISS.

little lively.

4
Jock-ey's ta'en the part

m
$

in'

<jH-

tf

O'er the

moun - tains

Nought but

griefs with

kiss,

he

gane;

is

=P=^i

=te

And

Spare

with him

my

is

love,

ye

a'

my

winds

that

Lliss,

blaw,

Plash-y

sleets

and

me

re

main.

fceat-ing rain*

i^P
Spare

my

love,

thou

fcath'

ry

"When the shades

snaw, Drift- in g

o'er

of ev'ning creep

gladsome e'e,
he sleep,
Sweetly blythe his wauk'ning be.
He will think on her he loves,
Fondly he'll repeat her name;
For where'er he distant roves
Jockey's heart is still at hame.
O'er the day's

Sound and

safely

fair,

may

the

fro -

zen plain.


23

JOHN ANDERSON, MY
First

and

last

JO.

Stanzas by Burns.

Slow, with feeling.

John

An

der

Your locks were

quent,

now your brow

But

snaw,

But bless -ings on

my jo,

And

you,

Sae

amang

ra

your

When

ven,

beld, John,

is

fros

Your

bon

Your

locks

pow, John

ty

we

An

John Anderson,

John,

were

der

brow

nie

are

like

my

my jo,

ac-

first

son,

was

the

jo.

John,

We

When

Nature first began


To try her canny hand, John,
Her master-wark was man

John,

jo,

the

like

brent;

John Anderson,

my

son,

clamb the hill thegither,


And mony a canty day, John,
We've had wi' ane anither;
Now we maun totter down, John,

the lave, John,

But hand

trig frae tap to toe

She prov'd hersel' nae journey- wark,


John Anderson, my jo.

And

John Anderson,

THERE WAS A LASS THEY


Air, " You'll

in hand we'll go,


we'll sleep thegither at the foot,

CA'D

my jo.

HER MEG.

ate be welcome back agais."

Lively.

There was

lass,

they ca'd her Meg,

And

she

held owre the moor

to

spin; There

f=r f-e-4-1
Tlic

moor was

drcigli,

and

r-g- fr
v,i'

the

rock

she

Meg was skeigh, Her

favour Duncan could na win;

IHHI

vad him knock, And

aye

si le

shook

the

E-

tern- per

For

m
pirn

; ;

29

moor they lightly foor,


we will big a wee, wee house,
And we will live like king and queen
A burn was clear, a glen was green;
Upon the banks they eas'd their shanks, Sae blythe and merry's we will be,
And aye she set the wheel atween.
When ye set by the wheel at e'en.
But Duncan swore a halyaith,
A man may drink and no be drunk,
That Meg should be a bride the morn
A man may fight and no be slain
Then Meg took up her spinning-graith A man may kiss a bonnie lass,
And flang them a' out owre the burn.
And aye be welcome back again.

As

o'er the

FOE THE SAKE

My

heart

is

sair,

daur - na

-5

could

Oh
n

wake a

hon,

for

win

ter

some -bo
poco

**

=*= c
I

=f=
V

could range

'

the world

My

For

hey,

bo

For

some

bo

bo

dy.

^7\

7^

..

that smile on virtuous love,


sweetly smile on somebody
Frae ilka danger keep him free,
And send me safe my somebody.
Oh hon, for somebody
Oh hey, for somebody
what wad I not
1 wad do
For the sake o* somebody.

dy

dy!

IB

-jg;
..

the sake

mm
some

o'

for

-k

round,

sake

Ye powers

some

pat tm-po.

/C\

53-

for

sair

is

the

Oh

dyl

heart

^EEEEE

night,

rail.

tell,

<^_

S0ME30LY.

0'

g
o*

.g

some -bo

dyl

'

30

THERE GROWS A BONNIE BRIER BUSH.


Old song, altered by Burnsi

bon

There grows a

nie

brier bush

^i=5SE
blossoms

loy

- al

our

in

o't

Hieland lads

kail

And

But were they

las-ses

'

lo'e

kail-yard ;

wee

yard ; Like

the

our

in

And

1_

white are

white cock - ades

bit

the brier bush in

the

BiB_

our

for

kail

our

yard.

that are far awa' ?


Oh were they a' true that are far awa'?
They drew up wi' glaiket Englishers at Carlisle ha',
And forgot auld Men's when far awa'.
a* true

Ye' 11 come nae mair, Jamie, where aft ye hae been;


Ye'll come nae mair, Jamie, where aft ye hae been;
Ye lo'ed owre weel the dancin' at Carlisle ha',
And forgot the Hieland hills that were far awa'.

He's comin' frae the North that's to fancy me,


He's comin' frae the North that's to fancy me,
feather in his bonnet, and a ribbon at his knee
He's a bonnie Hieland laddie, and you be na ho.

HA'E A WIFE

0'

MY

AIN.

Lively.

fm^f=^=*=m
I

I'll

ha'e

tak'

cuck

wife

old

ha'e

pen

o'

my

frae Dane,

E
-

ny

ain,

I'll

to

spend,

I'll

par

gi'e

cuck

take wi'

old

to

nae

nae

h
-

bo

- fly

bo

fly.

w^mm
There, thanks

to

nae

bo

fly;

31

lend,

to

I'm naebody's

tor

I'll

frae

nae

bo

dv

be merry and free,


be sad for naebody;
Naebody cares for me,
I care for naebody,

lord,

I'll

be slave to naebody
1 ha'e a guid braids word,

I'll

I'll

I'll tak'

row

donts frae naebodv.

AFTON WATER.
Music by A. Hums.

fes^^ftf-Ez^

mong

^i

f^^^^fe^^
sing

thee

mur-mur - ing

song

thy

stream, Flow

gent

praise

- ly,

My

S=

Ma - ry's

sweet Af-ton,

dis - turb

- sleep

not

cres.

ho

ec

the
thro'
cadenza ad lib.

sounds

rail.

yon thorn

wild whistling blackbirds in

den.

by

I'll

thy

her dream.

^^fc

etat
Thou stock-dove whose

^ 9-^ #-9->-green braes, Flow gent-ly,

thy

Ye

glen,

a tempo.

Thou

green crested

lapwing thy screaming forbear,

charge you disturb not

my

slum

ber

Thy costal stream, Afton, how lovely it glides,


And winds by the cot where my Mary resides,

How wanton thy waters her snowy feet lave,


As, gathering sweet flowerets, she stems thy clear wave.
Flow
Flow

My

gently, sweet Afton,

Mary's asleep

Flow

among thy green

braes,

theme of my lays
by thy murmuring stream,

gently, sweet river, the

gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream.

ing

fair.

32

MARY MORISON.

^4
J

gEgg^^
Ma-iy,

smiles and

How

glan

ces

let

me

be,

see,

mm
glad - ly

the

wad

rich

re -

It

ward

The

and said, amang them


u Ye are na Mary Morison."

I sigh'd,

a',

mak' the mi

cure,

ry

slave frae

Mary

witch

ln%

to sun,

Could

ly

Ma

ry

Mor

- i -

son.

canst thou wreck his peace,


for thy sake wad gladly die?
Or canst thou break that heart of his,
Whase only faut is loving thee?
If love for love thou wilt na gie,
At least be pity to me shown:
thought ungentle canna be
The thought of Mary Morison.
!

Wha

NA HER BONNIE BLUE

be

sun

=S--+-H^

love

E'E

WAS MY

Sloivly.

the

trea-sure poor.

tt="

wea

Aib, " Laddie, lie near me."

'Twas

- ser's

^3E
A
=^

se

the wish'd, the tryst-ed hour; Those

is

That

bide the stoure,

Yestreen when to the trembling string


The dance gaed through the lighted ha',
To thee my fancy took its wing,
I sat, but neither heard nor saw
Though this wr as fair, and that was braw,
And yon the toast of a' the town,

'TWAS

=^=+==i

J.J

thy win-dow

at

^F&

TS=

sweety

stown

glance

RUIN.

113

MY EARLY WALK.

A ROSEBUD BY

Written by Burns.
The beautiful melody to which these verses are set, seems to he merely a modern version of an
old air called "The Shepherd's Wife." This sons was written in compliment to Miss Jeanie
Cruickshanks, daughter of Mr. William Cruickshanks, one of the masters of the High School,
Edinburgh, an intimate friend of the poet.
_

Tenderly.

f-

v-9

ly

walk,

s~ s

_^

ri

I^Z^I

rosebud by

my

ear

dfc

fb

down

h-i

corn

p~ --r-r-

in

ed

clos -

b-S5~ -h an

mmmm^m^^mmfbawk,

Sae

gent -ly bent

Ere twice the shades

tfc:

*c*i
spread,

0'

little

dawn

are

And drooping

rich

dew-y

the

its

son

glo

ry

^W~-?zw=i-

33*

-r,

head,

It

scents the ear- ly

bird,

morn-ing.

young Jeanie

fair,

trembling string, or vocal air,


Shall sweetly pay the tender care
That tends thy early morning.

shall see her tender brood,

pride, the pleasure of the

crim

morn-ins

On

sat chilly on her breast,


Sae early in the morning.

Amang

a*

So thou, dear

nest,

The dew

The

In

fled,

dew - y

on

Ail

EtEE

linnet fondly press'd,

She soon

stalk,

^m&

fete

Within the bush, her covert

thor-ny

its

wood

the fresh green leaves bedew'd,


the early morning.

Awake

So thou, sweet rosebud, young and gay,


Shalt beauteous blaze upon the day,
And bless the parents' ev'ning ray
That watch'd thy early morning.

FRAGMENT.
Aid,

Why, why

tell

thy

Bliss he never

'TnE Caledonian Hunt's Delight.'

Oh why,

lover,

must enjoy

Why, why undeceive him,


And give all his hopes the

lie

while fancy, raptured, slumbers,

Chloris, Chloris all the theme,

Why, why would'st thou cruel


Wake thv lover from his dream

114

SLEEFST THOU, OR WAK'ST THOU, FAIREST CREATURE 1


AlB ADAPTED FROM "De'IL TAK' THE WaBS."
Tenderly.

3
Sleep'st thou, or

morn now

wak'st

thou,

his

lifts

eye,

Numb-

bud

'ring

-p-

Wa

ture

- ters

wi'

the

tears

Now

joy.

And by

the reeking

floods,

Wild

through the leafy

^^i

EEp
woods,

which

na-ture's tenants

freely,

glad

ly

stray. Tlie lintwhite in his bow'r,

Chants o'er the breathing flowr The lav'rock


;

to the

rail

EE
sky, As-cends wi' songs

o'

joy,

While the sun and thou a

rise

Phccbus gilding the brow o' morning,


Banishes ilk darksome shade
Nature gladd'ning and adorning,
Such to me, my lovely maid.
When absent from my fair,
;

The murky shades o' care


With starless gloom, o'ercast the
But when in beauty's light,
She meets

When
'Tis

my

through

sullen

sky

ravish'd sight,

my

very heart

Her beaming glories dart,


then I wake to life, to light, and

joy.

and

bless the day.

;:

115

THE LEA

RIG.

"When

o'er the hill the eastern star Tells

bughtin' time

is

my

near,

And

jo;

ifczziow

sen

frae

Down by

the

furrow'd

fiel

Re

turn

the burn, where scented birks Wi'

meet thee

In mirkest

glen, at

rig,

My

midnight hour,

and ne'er be eerie,


through that glen I gaed to thee,
My ain kind deary, 0.
Although the night were ne'er sae wild,
And I were ne'er sae weary,
I'd meet thee on the lea rig,
My ain kind deary, 0.
I'd rove,

dew

If

are

hang-in g

kind

ain

The hunter

To

and

dowf

sae

rouse

lo'es
tlie

-wear

0.

- y,

my

is

clear,
ar,

dear

jo

I'll

0.

y,

the morning sun,

mountain

At noon the fisher


Alang the burn

deer,

my jo

seeks the glen,


to steer,

my jo.

me

the hour o' gloamin' gray,


mak's my heart sae cheery,
To meet me, on the lea rig,
My ain kind deary, 0.
Gi'e

It

LOGAN WATER.
Within yon milk-white hawthorn bush,

Logan, sweetly didst thou glide,


That day I w as my Willie's bride:

Amang

And

years sinsyne ha'e o'er us run,


Like Logan to the setting sun
But now thy flow'ry banks appear,
:

Like drumlie winter, dark and drear,

While

my

maun face his


me and Logan braes.

dear lad

Far, far frae

faes,

Again the merry month of May


Has made our hills and valleys gay

The
The

birds rejoice in leafy bow'rs,

hum

round the breathing


Blythe morning lifts his rosy e'e,
And ev'ning tears are tears of joy

My

bees

flow'rs

soul, delightless, a' surveys,

While

Willie's far frae

Logan

braes.

her nestlings

sits

the thrush

Her faithfu' mate will share her toil,


Or wi' his sang her cares beguile
But I, wi' my sweet nurslings here,
Nae mate to help, nae mate to cheer,
Pass widow'd nights and joyless days.
While Willie's far frae Logan braes.
0, wae upon you, men of state,
That breth'ren rouse to deadly hate;
As ye mak' mony a fond heart mourn,
Sae may it on your heads return
How can your flinty hearts enjoy

The widow's tear, the orphan's cry ?


But soon may peace bring happy days,
And Willie hame to Logan braes.

;:

116

WHEN

WAS BLAWIN'

JANUAR' WIND

CAULD.

Moderate.

WP5
^==T5- -9-9-*

Ek

When

ttjj

Januar' wind

P ^S

MUVMvm&p*
was

As

to the north I

me

did

en-fauld,

knew

where

na*

charming girl I chanc'd to meet,


Just in the middle o' my care;
kindly she did me invite,

And

Her

father's

humble

cot to share.

Her hair was like the gowd so fine,


Her teeth were like the ivorie
Her cheeks like lilies dipt in wine,
The lass that made the bed to me.

Her bosom was the drifted snaw,


Her limbs like marble fair to see

A finer form
Than

nane ever saw,

hers that

made

the bed to me.

She made the bed baith lang and braid,


Wi' twa white hands she spread it down
She bade guid night, and smiling said,
" I hope ye'll sleep baith saft and soim'."
the morrow when I raise,
thank' d her for her courtesie
blush cam' o'er the comely face
0' her that made the bed to me.

Upon
I

I clasp'd

The

her waist, and kiss'd her syne,

tear stood twinklin' in her e'e;

dearest maid, gin ye'll be mine,

Ye aye

sail

took

my way; The

EeES3
&e&ez$

"frf?.
t-=*

f+-

mirk-some night

blawin' cauld,

mak' the bed

to

me.

to

lod^e

till

day.

117

RO CHURCHMAN AM
"The lazy

Air,
jj,

1.

mist."

Lively,

V
H1-- - 3- i--^
-^- a- -Y-&A ?h
zfczjdij g e g
:

p^

No churchman am

^=P5

or to

plot

fight;

rail

and

No statesman nor

to write,

soldier

to

~
Tl I7J^l~ir^~r,l:-y-M

3^

to

for

h-F-i

No

sly

man

of bus'ness con

triv

ing a snare, For

=M~f-r-i -i-r-*l

$ ^ H
1

give

whole of

bellied bottle's the

him

his

bow

=**
^totrf:

my

peer

care.

dont

ver

so

low,

But

ei^i^i^^s
And

a bottle like this arc

my

glory and care.

Here passes the squire, on his brother his horse,


There centum per centum, the cit with his purse
But see you " The Crown," how it -waves in the air,
There a big-bellied bottle still eases my care.
The wife of my bosom, alas she did die
For sweet consolation to church I did fly
I found that old Solomon proved it fan*,
That a big- bellied bottle's a cure for all care.
;

was persuaded a venture to make,


informed me that all was to wreck
But the pursy old landlord just waddled up
I once

letter

stairs

a glorious bottle that ended my cares.


" Life's cares they are comforts,"
a maxim laid down
By the bard, what d'ye call him, that wore the black gown?
And, faith, I agree with th' old prig to a hair,

With

For a big-bellied

f-l^gU4j_jg

scorn not the peasant, tho'

club of good fellows, like those that are here,

en-vy,

bottle's a

heaven of

care.

113

THE LASS

BALLOCHMYLE.

0'

Ain, "Hiss Foebes's

farewell to Banff."

With expression.

33
*T\vas even, the

dew

wan

fields

were green, On ev'ry blade the pearls hung; The

3S

=ft=
zephyr

=^;=s=
l=5r^-^B

t--:zi>=z\

->P=

ton'd round the bean,

And

^^g SESKE

bore

fra -

its

:jcr-g=p:

In

ev-'ry

glen

the

ma

.,

vis sang, All

na

gf
ture

grant

sweets a

lang.

*=*=*={
V*? :&==
list'ning

seemed the while,Ex-

M^^^^^^^^^^M
^
i^-L -^

***

eept

With

where green-wood

careless step I

My
When

onward

choes rang,

Her air like nature's vernal smile


Perfection whisper'd, passing b}T,
Behold the lass o' Ballochmyle!

the morn in flow'ry May,


sweet is night in autumn mild
When roving thro' the garden gay,
Or wand' ring in a lonely wild
But woman, nature's darling child,
There all her charms she does compile.
n there her other works are foil'd
By the bonnie lass o' Ballochmyle.
is

IV

Ballochmyle.

o'

maiden fair I chanced to spy


Her look was like the morning's eye,

And

the braes

0, had she been a country maid,


And I the happy country swain
Tho' shelter'd in the lowest shed
That ever rose in Scotland's plain;
Thro* weary winter's wind and rain,
With joy, w ith rapture I would toil,
And nightly to my bosom strain
The bonnie lass o' Ballochmyle.

strayed,

heart rejoiced in nature's joy,


musing in a lonely glade,

Fair

A-mang

Then

pride

might climb the

slipp'ry steep,

Where fame and honours lofty shine;


And thirst of gold might tempt the deep,
Or downward seek the Indian mine
Give me the cot below the pine,
To tend the flocks or till the soil
And cv'ry day have joys divine,
Willi the bonnie lass

o'

Ballochmyle.

;!

119

The following Songs have

Music

either not been

will he found

adapted

arranged

BONNIE PEGGY ALISON.

bonnie Peggy Alison

small birds rejoice in the green leaves returning,


[the vale;

[dale;

And wild scattered cowslips bedeck the green


But what can give pleasure, or what can seem

But Peggy,

Thick

The sky

[care

No

flowers gaily springing, nor birds sweetly


singing,
Can soothe the sad bosom of joyless despair.

The deed that

I dared,

could

it

12.

I rove at

Thus every kind their pleasure find,


The savage and the tender;
Some social join, and leagues combine
Some solitary wander
A vaunt, away! the cruel sway,
Tyrannic man's dominion
The sportsman's joy, the murdering cry,
The fluttering gory pinion.

While the lingering moments are numbered by

fair,

when

The murmuring streamlet winds clear through


The hawthorn trees blow in the dews of the
morning,

Page

The partridge loves the fruitful fells;


The plover loves the mountains;
The woodcock haunts the lonely dells;
The soaring hern the fountains
Through lofty groves the cushat roves,
The path of man to shun it
The hazel bush o'erhangs the thrash,
The spreading thorn the linnet.

THE CHEVALIER'S LAMENT.


The

Foortith Cauld ?"

the moon shines bright,


night
my charmer.

sae bonnie blue,


swear I'm thine for ever, 0,

'

To muse upon

And by thy een,

And on thy lips I seal my vow,


And break it shall I never,

And

my arms wi' a' thy charms,


clasp my countless treasure, 0,
in

seek nae mair o' heaven to share


Than sic a moment's pleasure,

and slaughtering guns


Bring autumn's pleasant weather;
The moorcock springs on whirring wings,
Amang the blooming heather:
Now waving grain, wide o'er the plain,
Delights the weary farmer;

and fear, when thou art near,


I ever mair defy them,
Young kings upon their hansel thrones,
Are no sae blessed as I am,

Now westlin' winds

Ilk care

When

this collection

SONG COMPOSED IN AUGUST.


Tune

I'll kiss thee yet, yet,


And I'll kiss thee o'er again
And I'll kiss thee yet, yet.

My

appropriate Melodies, cr the

to

Songs in

to other

merit their ma-

flies
is

dear, the evening's clear,

the skimming swallow

blue, the fields in view,

All fading green and yellow:


Come, let us stray our gladsome way,
And view the charms of nature
The rustling corn, the fruited thorn,
And every happy creature.
:

lice,

A king and

a father to place on his throne ?


Ilis right are these hills, and his right are these
valleys,
[.find none.
Where the wild beasts find shelter, but I can
But 'tis not my sufferings thus wretched, forlorn,
My brave gallant friends! 'tis your rum I mourn
Your deeds proved so loyal in hot bloody trial
Alas! can I make you no sweeter return"?
;

We'll gently walk, and sweetly talk,


Till the silent moon shine clearly;
grasp thy waist, and, fondly pressed,
Swear how I love thee dearly
Not vernal showers to budding* flowers,
Not autumn to the farmer,
So dear can be as thou to mo,
I'll

My fair, my lovely

charmer

; ;

;;

'

120

POWERS CELESTIAL!
Towers

celestial!

whose protection

Ever guards the virtuous fair,


While in distant climes I wander,
Let my Mary be your care
Let her form, sae fair and faultless,
Fair and faultless as your own,
Let my Mary's kindred spirit
Draw your choicest influence doAvn.
:

Make the gales you waft around her


Soft and peaceful as her breast
Breathing in the breeze that fans her,
Soothe her bosom into rest:
Guardian angels! oh protect her,

When in distant lands I roam


To realms unknown while fate exiles me,
Make her bosom still my home.

MEXIE.
Tunc -"Johnny's grey breeks."
Again rejoicing nature sees
Her robe assume its vernal hues,
Her leafy locks wave in the breeze,
All freshly steeped in morning dews.

And maun I still on Menie doar,


And bear the scorn that's in her
For

it's jet,

jet black,

and

like a

e'e?

hawk,

And winna let a body be.


In vain to me the cowslips blaw,
In vain to me the violets spring;
In vain to me, in glen or shaw,
The mavis and the lintwhite sing.

The merry ploughboy cheers

his team,
the tentie seedsman stalks
me's a weary dream,
dream of ane that never wauks.

WT joy

But

life

to

The wanton

coot the water skims,


reeds the ducklings cry,

Amang the

LOVELY DA VIES.
how

shall

I,

unskilfu', try

The poet's occupation,


The tunefir powers, in happy hours,
That whisper inspiration

The

stately

And

swan majestic swims,

every thing

And when

Or they rehearse, in equal verse,


The charms o' lovely Davies.

And mounts and

it

cheers

when

she appears,

Like Phcebus in the morning,


passed the shower, and even- flower
The garden is adorning.
Ast he wretch looks o'er Siberia's shore,
When winter-bound the wave is,
Sae droops our heart when we maun part
Frae charming, lovely Davies.

Her smiles

boon the lift,


That mak's us mair than princes;
a gift frae

sceptred hand, a king's command


her darting glances :

Is in

The man in arms 'gainst female charms,


Even he her willing slave is;
He tragi his chain and owns the reign
Of conquering, lovely Davies.

My muse

to dr ?am of such a theme,


Her feeble powers surrender;
The eagle's gaze alone surveys
The sun's meridian splendour:
1 wad in vain essay the strain,
The deed too daring brave is;
I'll drop the lyre, and mute admire
The charms o' lovely Davies.

but

I.

WT

When

blest

steeks his faulding slap,


the moorland whistle? shrill
wild, unequal, wandering step,
I meet him on the dewy hill.

And owre

Even they maun dare an effort m


Than aught they ever gave us,

Each eye

is

The shepherd

Blithe

the lark, 'tween light and dark,

waukens by the

daisy's side,
sings on fluttering wings,

wae-worn ghaist I hameward glide.


Come, winter, with thine angiy howl,
And raging bend the naked tree;
Thy gloom will soothe my cheerless soul,
When nature all is sad like me!

YOUNG

JESSIE,

True-hearted was he, the sad swain

o'

row,

And

the Yar[

A yr

the maids on the banks o' the


But by the sweet side o' the Nith's winding river,
fair are

Are lovers as faithful, and maidens as fair:


To equal young Jessie seek Scotland all over
To equal young Jessie you seek it in vain
Grace, beauty, and elegance fetter her lover,
And maidenly modesty fixes the chain.
Oh, fresh is the rose in the gay dewy morning,
;

And

sweet

is

the

lily at

evening close

But in the fair presence o' lovely young Jessie,


Unseen is the lily, unheeded the rose.
Love sits in her smile, a wizard ensnaring;
Enthroned in her een he delivers his law
And still to her charms she alone is a stranger
Her modest demeanour's the jewel of a'
:

;; ; :: ;

!;

121

STRATIIALLAN'S LAMENT.

Pair eliza.

Thickfst night, o'erhang my dwelling!


Howling tempests, o'er me ravel
Turbid torrents, wintry swelling,
Still surround my lonely cave

Canst thou break his faithfu' heart?


Turn again, thou fair Eliza;

Crystal streamlets, gently flowing,


Busy haunts of base mankind,
Western breezes, softly blowing,
Suit not my distracted mind.

If to love thy heart denies,


For pity hide the cruel sentence
Under friendship's kind disguise!

Thee, dear maid, ha'e I offended?


The offence is loving thee
Canst thou wreck his peace for ever,
Wha for thine wad gladly dee ?
While the life beats in my bosom

In the cause of right engaged,

Wrongs injurious to redress,


Honour's war we strongly waged,
But the heavens denied

success.

Thou

Ruin's wheel has driven o'er us,


Not a hope that dare attend.
is all before us,
Eut a world without a friend.
_______

WILLIE

wad na

gi'e a

W ASTLE.
;

OH,

She's bough-houghed, she's liein-shinned,


Ae limpin' leg a hand-breed shorter;
She's twisted right, she's twisted left,
To balance fair in ilka quarter

She has a hump upon her breast,


The twin o' that upon her shouther;
Sic a wife as Willie had,
I wad na gi'e a button for her.

WERE

ON PARNASSUS'

Tune "My

button for her.

e'e, she has but ane,


The cat has twa the very colour
Five rusty teeth forbye a stump,
A clapper-tongue wad deave a miller
whiskin' beard about her mou,
Her nose and chin they threaten ither
Sic a wife as Willie had,
I wad na gi'e a button for her.

in ilka "throe

She has an

mix

Not the bee upon the blossom,


In the pride o' sunny noon
Not the little sporting fairy,
All beneath the simmer moon
Not the poet in the moment
Fancy lightens in his e'e,
Kens the pleasure, feels the rapture
That thy presence gi'es to me.

Sic a wife as Willie had,


I

shalt

Turn again, thou lovely maiden,


Ae sweet smile on me bestow.

The wide world

Willie Wastle dwelt on Tweed,


The spot they called it Linkum-doddie
Willie was a wabster guid,
Could stown a clue wi' ony bodie.
He had a wife was dour and din,
Oh Tinkler Madgie was her mither

Tuen again, thou fair Eliza,


Ae kind blink before we part,
Rue on thy despairing lover!

Oh, were

love

is lost

on Parnassus*

to

HILL.

me."

hill

Or had of Helicon my fill


That I might catch poetic skill,
To sing how dear I love thee.
But Nith maun be my muse's well,
My muse maun be thy bonnie seP
On Corsincon I'll glower and spell,
;

And

write

how dear

Then come, sweet muse,

love thee.
inspire

my

lay

For a' the lee-lang simmer's day


couldna sing, I couldna say
How much, how dear I love thee.
I see thee dancing o'er the green,
Thy waist sae jimp, thy limbs sae clean,
Thy tempting lips, thy roguish een
By heaven and earth, I love thee
I

By

by day,

hame,

Auld baudrons by the ingle sits,


And wi' her loof her face a-washin'
But Willie's wife is nae sae trig,
She dights her grunzie wi' a hushion

The thoughts o' thee my breast inflame;


And aye I muse and sing thy name

Her walie nieves like midden-creels,


Her face wad fyle the Logan Water

Though I were doomed to wander on


Beyond the sea, beyond the sun,

Sic a wife as Willie had,


I wad na gi'e a button for her.

Till

night,

a-field, at

only live to love thee.

my

last
Till then,

weary sand was run


and tlien I love thee.

:;

122

BRAVING ANGRY WINTER'S STORMS.

Spicy

The

lofty Ochils rise,


in their shade
Peggy's charms
First blessed
wondering eyes

spoil;

that ever verdant wave,


leave the tyrant and the slave
Give me the groves that lofty brave

my

As one who by some savage stream,


A lonely gem surveys,
Astonished, doubly marks its beam,
With art's most polished blaze.

The storms by Castle-Gordon.


Wildly here without control,
Nature reigns and rules the whole;
In that sober, pensive mood,
Dearest to the feeling soul,
She plants the forest, pours the flood
Life's poor day I'll musing rave,

Blessed be the wild, sequestered shade,


And blessed the day and hour,
first surveyed,

Where Peggy's charms J[

When

ever gay,

Woods

my

Far

forests,

Shading from the burning ray


Hapless wretches sold to toil,
Or the ruthless native's way,
Bent on slaughter, blood, and

Tune "Neil Gow's lament for Abercairney."


Where braving angry winter's storms,

their power!
death, with grim control,
May seize my fleeting breath
But tearing Peggy from my soul
Must be a stronger death.
first I felt

And

The tyrant

Where waters

find at night a sheltering cave,

flow and wild

woods wave,

By bonnie Castle- Gordon.

BUT LATELY SEEN.


MUSING ON THE ROARING OCEAN.
Tune

"Druimion Dubh."

Musing on the roaring ocean,


Which divides my love and me;
Wearying Heaven in warm devotion,
For his weal where'er he be.

Hope and

fear's alternate billow

Yielding late to nature's law,

Whispering spirits round my pillow


Talk of him that's far awa'.
Ye whom sorrow never wounded,

Ye who never shed a tear,


Care-untroubled, joy-surrounded,
Gaudy day

to

you

is

dear.

Gentle night, do thou befriend me


Downy sleep thy curtain draw;
Spirits kind, again attend me,
Talk of him thats far awa'.

BONNIE CASTLE-GORDON.
Tune "Morag." Page

70.

Streams that glide in orient plains,


Never bound by winter's chains;
Glowing bee on golden sands.
There commixed with foulest stains
From tyranny's empurpled bands;
These, their richly gleaming w.
I leave to tyrants and their
i

me

the stream that sweetly laves


The banks by Castle-Gordon.

Give

But lately seen in gladsome green,


The woods rejoiced the day
Through gentle showers the laughing flowery
In double pride were gay
But now our joys are fled

On winter blasts awa'


Yet maiden May in rich array,
Again shall bring them a'.
But

my

white pow, nae kindly thowe

Shall melt the snaws of age


trunk of eild, but buss or beild,
Sinks in time's wintry rage.
Oh age has weary days,

My

And

nights

o'

sleepless pain !
o' youtlafu' prime,

Thou golden time

Why comes thou not


I

agaiu

DO CONFESS THOU ART SAE

FAIR.

do confess thou art sae fair,


I wad been owre the lugs in love,
Had I not found the slightest prayer
I

That lips could speak thy heartcould move.


do confess thee sweet, but find
Thou art sae thriftless o' thy sweets,
Thy favours are the silly wind,
That kisses ilka thing it meets.
1

See yonder rosebud, rich in dew,


Amang its native briers sae coy;
How soon it tines it- scent and hue
When pu'd and worn a common toy!
Sic fate, ere lang, shall thee betide,

Though thou may gaily bloom awhile;


Yet soon thou sh.tlt be thrown aside
Like ony common weed and vile.

; !!!

123

BONNIE ANN.

My

lady's white,

my lady's

red,

And

Ye

gallants bright, I red ye right,

Beware o' bonnie Ann;


Eer comely face sae fu' o' grace,
Your heart she will trepan.

Her een sae bright, like stars by


Her skin is like the swan

night,

Sae jimply laced her genty waist,


That sweetly ye might span.
Youth, grace, and love attendant more,

And
In

a'

pleasure leads the van

their

charms and conquering arms

They wait on bonnie Ann.

gallants braw, I red ye

Beware

o'

MIST.

lived,

but

how much

hill,

lived in

of life's scanty span may remain


aspects old Time in his progress has worn
"What ties cruel fate in my bosom has torn
How foolish, or worse, till our summit is gained
little

And downward, how weakened, how


how pained!

Oh

live.

LADY'S GOWN, THERE'S GAIRS


UPON'T.

Tune" Gregg's

pipes."

sae rare upon't

But Jenny's jimps and jirkinet,


thinks meikle mair upon't.

My lord
My lord

a-hunting he

But hounds or hawks

is

flows proudly to the sea,


cities stately stand

How lovely,

Nith, thy fruitful vales,


gaily bloom

Where spreading hawthorns

sweetly wind thy sloping dales,


Where lambkins wanton through the broom!

Though wandering, now, must be my doom,


Far from thy bonnie banks and braes,

May there my latest hours consume


Amang the friends of early days
I

COULD AUGHT OF SONG.


of song declare my pains,

Could aught

Could artful numbers move thee,


The muse should tell in laboured strains,

Oh Mary, how

I love thee
feign a wounded heart
teach the lyre to languish
But what avails the pride of art,
When wastes the soul with anguish?

They who but

wi' him are


By Colin's cottage lies his game,
If Colin's Jenny be at hame.

nane

Then let the sudden bursting sigh


The heart-felt pang discover;

And

in the keen, yet tender eye,

Oh read
For well

gane,

How

May

gown, there's gairs upon't,

And gowden flowers

dressed,

the west;

darkened,

not worth having with all it can give;


For something beyond it poor man sure must

My lady's

o'

man lo'es best,


make him blest.

But sweeter flows the Nith, to me,


Where Cummin3 ance had high command.
When shall I see that honoured land,
That winding stream I love so dear!
Must wayward fortune's adverse hand
For ever, ever keep me here ?

life's

MY

my lady's

lassie that a
that's the lass to

Where royal

What

This

lady's dink,

The Thames

vain

How

My

THE BANKS OF NITH.


Tune "Robie donna Gorach."

Concealing the course of the dark winding rill


How languid the scenes, late so sprightly, appear
A s autumn to winter resigns the pale year.
The forests are leafless, the meadows are brown,
And all the gay foppery of summer is flown;
Apart let me wander, apart let me muse,
How quick time is flying, how keen fate pursues!

have

wilderness.

The flower and fancy

Mary Ann

THE LAZY

lily in a

Sae sweetly move her gentle limbs,


Like music notes o' lovers' hymns:
The diamond dew's her een sae blue,
Where laughing love sae wanton swims.

a',

Tune "No Churchman am I." Page 117.


The lazy mist hangs from the brow of the

How long

But the

The captive bands may chain the hands,


But love enslaves the man;

Ye

kith and kin o' Cassillis bluid


But her ten-pund lands o' tocher guid
Were a' the charms his lordship lo'ecL
Out owre yon muir, out owre yon moss,
Whar gor-cocks through the heather pass,
There wons auld Colin's bonnie lass,

Disdains

the imploring lover!


gentle mind
art's gay disguising;

know thy

Beyond what fancy e'er refined,


The voice of nature prizing.

124

GLOOMY DECEMBER.
Time" Wandering

MEG
Tune "Oh

Page 5.
Ance mair I hail thee, thou gloomy December,
Ance mair I hail tliee wi' sorrow and care;
Sad was the parting thou makes me remember,
Parting wf Nancy, oh ne'er to meet mair.
Fond lovers parting is sweet painful pleasure,
Hope beaming mild on the soft parting hour;
But the dire feeling, oh farewell for ever,
Is anguish unmingled, and agony pure.
Wild as the winter now tearing the forest,
Willie."

Till

lie In

Oh ken ye wha Meg o'


And ken ye what Meg

the mill has gotten ?


o' the mill has gotten
She has gotten a coofwi' a claut o' siller
And broken the heart o' the barley miller.

Such

THE MILL.

0'

bonnie lass, will you


barrack?"

The

miller was strappin', the miller was ruddy


heart like a lord, and a hue like a lady
laird was a widdiefu', bleerit knurl
She's left the guid fellow and ta'en the churl.

The

the last leaf o' the summer is flown,


the tempest has shaken my bosom,
my last hope and last comfort is gone.

The

is

The

Since

Still as I hail thee, thou gloomy December,


Still shall I hail thee wr sorrow and care; [ber,
For sad was the parting thou makes me reraemParting wi Nancy, oh ne'er to meet mair.
1

and

loving,

matter more mov-

A fine pacing horse wi a clear chained bridle,


A whip by her side and a bonnie side saddle.
1

Oh wae on the siller,


And wae on the love

OH M ALLY'S MEEK, M ALLY'S SWEET.

miller he hecht her a heart leal


laird did address her wi'

ing

tocher's nae

But

that

sae prevailing!
is fixed on a mailen

word

me my

gi'e

it is

in a true lover's parle,


love, and a fig for the warl

On

Mally's meek, Mally's sweet,


Mally's modest and discreet,
Mally's rare, Mally's fair,
Mally's every w'ay complete.

ADOWN WINDING NITH

I DID WANDER.
Tune "Tarn Glen." Page 13.
Adown winding Nith I did wander,

As I was walking up the street,


A barefit maid I chanced to meet;
But oh the road was very hard

To mark the sweet flowers

Adown winding

For that fair maiden's tender feet.


It were mair meet that those fine feet
Were weel laced up in silken shoon,
And 'twere more fit that she should sit

Within yon chariot

gilt

her two eyes, like stars in

Would keep a sinking

skies,

in green,

And scattered cowslips sweetly spring;


By Girvan's fairy-haunted stream
The birdies flit on wanton wing.
To Cassillis' banks when e'ening fa's
There wi' my Mary let me flee,
There catch her ilka glance of love,
The bonnie blink o' Mary's e'e!
The cheild wha boasts o' warld's walth
Is aften laird o' meikle care;
But Mary she is a' my ain,
Ah fortune canna gi'e me mair.
Then let me range by Cassillis' banks,
\\
her, the lassie dear to me,
!

i'

'1

as they spring

did wander,
to sing.

wi'

The daisy amused


So

catch her ilka glance o' love,


he bonnie blink o' Mary's e'e

my

fond fancy,
wild

artless, so simple, so

said I, o' my Phillis


simplicity's child.

Thou emblem,
For she

And

Nith

muse and

ship frae wreck.

CASSILLIS' BANKS.
Now bank and brae are claithed

to

CHORUS.
your belles and your beauties,
They never wi' her can compare
Whaever has met wi' my Philiis,
lias met wi' the queen o' the fair.

Awa

aboon.

Her yellow hair beyond compare,


Comes trinkling down her swan-white neck

And

Of Phillis

is

The rosebud's the blush o' my charmer,


Her sweet balmy lip when 'tis pressed:

How

fair

But

and how pure is the lily,


and purer her breast.

fairer

Yon knot of gay flowers in the arbour,


They ne'er wV my Phillis can vie
Her breath is the breath o' the woodbine,
:

It's

dew-drop

o'

diamond her

eye.

Her voice is the song of the morning, [grove,


That wakes through the green -spreading

When

Phoehus peeps over the mountains,

On music, and pleasure and love.


But beauty, how frail and how fleetingl
The bloom of a line summer's day
While WOrtb in the mind of my Phillis
:

Will nourish without a decay.

;:

;!

!:

12o

RAVING WINDS AROUND HER BLOWING


Tune" Maegregor

Sweet to the opening day,


Rosebuds bent the dewy* spray
Such thy bloom did I say,

of Ruara's lament."

Raving winds around her blowing,


Yellow leaves the woodlands strewing

Phillis the fair.


!

Down

By

a river hoarsely roaring,


Isabella strayed deploring:
"Farewell hours that late did measure
Sunshine days of joy and pleasure;
Hail, thou gloomy night of sorrow,
Cheerless night that knows no morrow
11
O'er the past too fondly wandering,
the hopeless future pondering:
Chilly grief my life-blood freezes,
Pell despair my fancy seizes.

Doves cooing were


marked the cruel hawk
Caught in a snare
;

Life,

Oh how

And

dark oblivion join thee

to

COME, LET

ME TAKE THEE TO MY
BREAST.

I'd resign thee,

kail," or "
the night."

How

take thee to

my

Tune" Cauld

'."

dreary

Come,

BLYTHE HA'E

fortune be,

Phillis the fair.

thou soul of every blessing,


to misery most distressing,

Gladly,

may

So kind

Such make his destiny,


He who would injure thee,

On

Load

in a shady walk,

BEEN ON YON

HILL.

Tune' Banks of Banna."


Blythe ha'e I been on yon hill,
As the lambs before me
1

let

is

me

do I hear my Jeanie own


That equal transports move her?

And

I ask for dearest life alone


That I may live to love her.

Now nae longer

Thus

and

play,

Mirth or song can please me


Lesley is sae fair and coy,
Care and anguish seize me.

Heavy, heavy

is

34.

breast,

And pledge we ne'er shall sunder;


And 1 shall spnrn as vilest dust
The warld's wealth and grandeur:

Careless ilka thought and free,


As the breeze flew o'er me
sport

long and

Page

in my arms, wi' all thy charms,


my countless treasure;
seek nae mair o' heaven to share,
Than sic a moment's pleasure
And by thy een so bonnie blue,
I swear I'm thine for ever
And on thy lips I seal my vow,
And break it shall I never
I clasp

I'll

the task,

Hopeless love declaring


Trembling, I do nought but glower,
Sighing, dumb, despairing

winna ease the thraws


In my bosom swelling,
Underneath the grass-green sod,

If she

Soon

maun be my

ON CHLORIS BEING

ILL.

Tune " Aye waukin'

dwelling.

0.

Long, long the night,


Heavy comes the morrow,

PHILLIS

Tune "Had

THE

FAIR.
Page

I a cave."

While
Is

soul's delight

Can I cease to care,


Can I cease to languish,
While my darling fa

While larks with little

wing,
Fanned the pure air,
Tasting the breathing spring,
Forth I did fare:

Gay the

my

on her bed of sorrow.

16.

il-

ls

sun's golden eye,

Peeped o'er the mountains high


Such thy morn did I ciy,
!

Phillis the fair.

In each bird's careless song,


Glad did I share;
While yon wild flowers among,
Chance led me there

on the couch of anguish?

Every hope is fled,


Every fear is terror;
Slumber even I dread,
Every dream is horror.

Hear me, powers divine!

Oh

in pity hear

me

Take aught else of mine,


But my Chloris spare ru!

; :

;;

126

MY

MARK HOW GREEN THE

CIILORIS,

HUNTING-SONG.

GROVES.

Mr

mark how preen the


The primrose banks how fair

groves,

Chloris,

The balmy gales awake the flowers


And wave thy flaxen hair.
The lav'rock shuns the palace gay,

And

o'er the cottage sings;

For nature smiles as sweet, I ween,


To shepherds as to kings.
Let minstrels sweep the skilfu' string
In lordly lighted ha';
stops his simple reed,
Blythe, in the birken shaw.

Tune" I

red you beware at the hunting."

The heather was blooming,


mawn,

the

meadows were

Our lads gaed a-hunting ae day at the dawn,


Owre moors and owre mosses and mony a glen,
At length they discovered a bonnie moor-hen.
I red you beware at the hunting, young men
I red you beware at the hunting, yoang men
Tak- some on the wing, and some as they spring,
But cannily steal on a bonnie moor-hen.

The shepherd

Sweet brushing the dew from the brown heather

The princely revel may survey


Our rustic dance wi' scorn
But are their hearts as light as ours

Her colours betrayed her on yon mossy fells;


Her plumage outlustred the pride o' the spring,
And oh as she wantoned gay on the wing.
I red you beware, &c

Beneath the milk-white thorn

The shepherd,

in the flow'ry glen,


In shepherd's phrase will woo
The courtier tells a finer tale,
But is his heart as true ?

These wild-wood flowers I've pu'd, to deck


That spotless breast o' thine:

The c urtier's gems may witness


But 'tis na love like mine.

bells,

Auld Phoebus

himsel', as he peeped o'er the hill,


In spite at her plumage he tried his skill
Helevelled his rays where shebasked on the brae,
His rays were outshone, and but marked where
she lay.
I red you beware, <fec.

love,

They hunted the

BY ALLAN STREAM

valley,

they hunted the

hill,

The

best of our lads wi' the best o' their skill


as the fairest she sat in their sight,
Then, whirr! she was over a mile at a flight

But

CHANCED TO

still

ROVE.
Tune "Allan Water."

red you beware, <kc

By

Allan stream I chanced to rove,


While Phoebus sank beyond Benledi;

The winds were whispering through


I listened to a lover's sang:,

And thought on youthfu' pleasures mony;


And aye the wild-wood echoes rang,
Oh, dearly do

love thee, Annie 1

Oh, happy be the woodhine bower,


Nae nightly bogle make it eerie
Nor ever sorrow stain the hour,
The place and time I met my deary
Her head upon my throbbing breast,
Bhe, sinking, said, "I'm thine for ever!"
While mony a kiss the seal impressed,
The sacred vow, we ne'er should sever.

The haunt o' spring's the primrose brae,


The simmer joys the flocks to follow;

How

ADDRESS TO THE WOODLARK.

the grove

The yellow corn was waving ready

cheery through her shortening day,


Is autumn in her weeds o' yellow!
But can they melt the glowing heart,
Or chain the soul in speechless pleasure?
Or through each nerve the rapture dart,
Like meeting her, our bosom's treasure?

Tune "Where will bonnie Ann lie?"

or,

"Loch-

Erroch side."

Oh

stay, sweet warbling woodlark, stay!


*
quit forme the trembling spray ;
hapless lover courts thy lay,
Thy soothing, soft complaining.

Nor

Again, again that tender part,

That I may catch thy melting art;


For surely that wad touch her heart

Wha

kills

me

wi' disdaining.

mate unkind,
heard thee as the careless wind?
Oh! nought but lore and sorrow joined
Sic notes o' woe could wauken.

Say,

was thy

little

And

Thou

tells o' never-ending care.


0' BpeeehleM gtiei, and dark despair;
For pity's sake, sweet bird, nae niair,
Or my poor heart is broken

;;

127

THINE AM I, MY FAITHFUL FAIR.


Tune " Liggeram Cosh."
Thine am I, my faithful fair,
Thine,

my

lovely

A bonnie lass,

I will confess,
Is pleasant to the e'e

But without some better qualities,


She's no the lass for me.
But Nelly's looks are blythe and sweet,
And, what is best of a',

Nancy

Every pulse within my veins,


Every roving fancy.

To thy bosom
There

to

lay

my

Her reputation

And

heart.

throb and languish

despair had wrung its


That would heal its anguish.

Though

cere,

I die

complete,

May

THE BANKS OF CREE.


Here

is the glen, and here the bower,


All underneath the birchen shade;
The village bell has told the hour,
loveiy maid?
Oh, what can stay

slightly touch the heart;

But it's innocence and modesty


That polishes the dart.
'Tis this in Nelly pleases me,

with pleasure.

What is life when wanting love?


Night without a morning
Love's the cloudless summer sun,
Nature gay adorning.

'Tis this enchants my soul;


For absolutely in my breast
She reigns without control.

FAIREST MAID ON DEVON BANKS.


Tune" Lassie wi' the lint-white locks." P.

35-

CHORUS.
Fairest maid on Devon banks,
Crystal Devon, winding Devon,
Wilt'thou lay that frown aside
And smile as thou were wont to do?
Full well thou know'st I love thee dear;
Could'st thou to malice lend an ear?
Oh did not love exclaim, " Forbear

my

Tis not Maria's whispering call


'lis but the balmy breathing gale,
Mixed with some warbler's dying fall,

The dewy

is

without a flaw.

And

Take away these rosy lips,


Rich with balmy treasure
Turn away thine eyes of love,
Lest

fair

She dresses aye so clean and neat,


Both decent and genteel;
then there's something in her gait
Gars ony dress look weeL
A gaudy dress and gentle air

star of eve to hafl.

Nor use a faithful lover so."


Then come, thou fairest of the fair,
Those wonted smiles, oh let me share!
And by thy beauteous self I swear

Maria's voice I hear!


So calls the woodlark in the grove,
His little faithful mate to cheer;
At once 'tis music and 'tis love.

It is

No

And art thou come? and art thou true?


Oh welcome, dear to love and me
And let us all our vows renew.
Along the flowery banks

love but thine

my

heart shall know.

THE SONS OF OLD

KILLIE.

Tune" Shawnboy."

of Cree.

Ye

HANDSOME NELL.*
Tune" I am

As bonnie

man unmarried,"

Oh once I loved a bonnie lass,


Ay, and I love her still;
And" whilst that honour warms
1*11 love my handsome Nell

my

breast

lasses I ha'e seen,

And mony full as braw


But for a modest, gracefu' mien,
The like I never saw.
* This is the first production of the muse of Burns,
which is remarkable for its unaffected simplicity and
natural truth.

sons of old Killie, assembled by Willie,


To follow the noble vocation
Your thrifty old mother has scarce such another
To sit in that honoured station.
I've little to say, but only to pray,
As praying's the tone of your fashion ;
A prayer from the muse you well may excuse,
"lis seldom her favourite passion.

Ye powers who preside

o'er the

wind and the tide,

Who marked each element's border;


Who formed this frame with beneficent
Whose

sovereign statute

is

order;

aim,
[tention

Within this dear mansion may wayward oonOr withered envy ne'er enter;
May secrecy round be the mystical bound,
.And brotherly love be the centre.

128

HEY FOR A LASS WT A TOCHER.


Tune" Balinamona

ora."

Awa' wi your witchcraft o' beauty's alarms,


The slender bit beauty you grasp "in your arms:
1

Oh,

me
me

gi'e

0!i, gi'e

the lass that has acres o '"charms,


the lass wi' the weel stocked farms,

And they declare Terreagles fair,


For their abode they choose it;
There's no a heart in a' the land
But's lighter at the news o't.
Though

stars in skies

And angry

may

disappear,

tempests gather,

The happy hour may soon be near

CHORUS.

Then hey for a lass wi a tocher,


Then hey for a lass wi' a tocher,
Then hey for a lass wi' a tocher,
The nice yellow guineas for me.
Your beauty's a flower, in the morning that
1

That brings us pleasant weather


o' care and grief

The weary night

May

ha"'e

a joyful

morrow;

So dawning day has brought reliefFarewell our night o' sorrow!

blows,

And

withers the faster, the faster it grows:


o' the bonnie green
[yowes.
Ilk spring they're new decked wi' bonnie white

But the rapturous charm


knowes,

And

e'en
blessed.

when

this

beauty your bosom has

[sessed
The brightest o' beauty may cloy, when posBut the sweet yellow darlings wi' Geordie
impressed,
[caressed.

The langer ye ha'e them, the mair

MY LOVE

SHE'S

Tune "Lady

they're

BUT A LASSIE YET.


Badinscoth's reel."

My

love she's but a lassie yet,


love she's but a lassie yet,
We'll let her stand a year or twa,
She'll no be half sae saucv yet.
I rue the day I sought her O,

My

rue the day I sought her,


gets her needs na say she's wooed,
;

Wha

But he may say he's bought her, 0!


Come, draw a drap o' the best o't yet,
Come, draw a drap o' the best o't yet;
Gae seek for pleasure where ye will*
But here I never missed it yet.
We're a' dry wi' drinking o't,
We're a' dry wi' drinking o't

The minister

And

kissed the fiddler's wife,


could na preach for thinking o't

NITIISD ALE'S

The

WELCOME HOME.

noble Maxwells and their powers


o'er the border,
they'll gae bigg Ten-eagles' towers,

Are coming

And
And

set

them

a'

in order.

LEAVE NOVELS.
novels, ye Mauchline belles,
Ye're safer at your spinning-wheel

leave

Such witching books are baited hooks


For rakish rooks, like Rob MossgieL
Your fine Tom Jones and Grandisons,
They make your youthful fancies reel,
They heat your bra'ins, and fire your veins,
And then you're prey for Rob MossgieL
Beware a tongue that's smoothly hung;
A heart that warmly seems to" feel;
That feeling heart but acts a part,
Tis rakish art in Rob Mossgicl.

The frank

address, the soft caress,

Are worse than poison'd darts of


The frank address and politesse,
Are all finesse in Rob MossgieL

FRAE THE FRIENDS AND LAND

steel

LOVE.

friends and land 1 love,


Driven by fortune's felly spite,
Frae my best beloved I rove,
Never mair to taste delight
Never mair maun hope to find
Ease frae toil, relief frae care
When remembrance wrecks the mind,

Frae the

Pleasures but unveil despair.


Brightest climes shall mirk appear,
Desert ilka blooming shore,
Till the fates, nae mair severe,
Friendship, love, and peace restore.
Till revenge, wi' laurell'd he. id.
Bring our banislul hame again
And ilk loyal bonnie lad
Cross the seas and win his ain.

BELL AND BAIN, PRINTERS, GLASGOW.

4
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