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PREFACE.
i.HE approbation bestowed by the Public on
the National Melodies and Songs collected and
published by Mr Thomson, and the wish ex-
pressed by many of his Musical Friends to see
them in a smaller and cheaper form, calculat-
ed to promote their wider circulation, have
induced him to bring forward the present
Work.
In the original selection of the Melodies for
his folio works, the Editor was at the utmost
pains to obtain them in the purest and best
form ; having carefully examined every Col-
lection extant ; availed himself of the commu-
nications of such intelligent friends as had been
much conversant with their native music ; and
visited distant parts of the country, to collect
on the spot what he could not obtain by means
of Correspondents ; invariably preferring that
set or copy of every Melody which seemed the
most simple and beautiful, whether he found it
in print, or in manuscript, or got it from a
voice, or an instrument.
The Symphonies and Accompaniments next
engaged his solicitude. For the composition
of these, he had the peculiar good fortune to
enlist the talents of Pleyel, Kozeluch, Haydn,
and Beethoven ; and thus to give an additional
interest to the Melodies, very far exceeding
what they before possessed. About one half
of those Symphonies and Accompaniments
were composed by Haydn alone, who, to the
inexpressible satisfaction of the Editor, proceed-
ed all along with the work con amore. It oc-
cupied the leisure of that inimitable Composer
for upwards of three years, and, on finishing it,
he thus wrote to the Editor: " I boast of this
" Work, and by it I flatter myself my name
" will live in Scotland many years after my
" death:-1
The Symphonies form an Introduction and
Conclusion to each Melody, so characteristic
and delightful, and comprise in themselves such
a rich collection of new and original composi-
VOL. I.
tions, as to form an invaluable appendage to
the Melodies : while the Accompaniments will
be found to support the voice, and to beautify
the Melodies, without any tendency to injure
their simple character.
Second-voice parts were also composed by
these great Masters, for such of the Melodies
as seemed best fitted to be sung as Duetts ;
as well as for the Chorus parts, formerly sung
by one voice only, or by different voices in uni-
son.
The Poetical part of the Work was, to the
Editor, a subject of most anxious considera-
tion, and attended with far greater difficulty
than he had ever anticipated : for although a
considerable portion of the Airs had long been
imited to unexceptionable Songs, yet a far
greater number stood matched with Songs of
such a silly, vulgar, or indelicate character, as
could no longer be sung in decent society,
or among persons of good taste : and it be-
came necessary, in order to preserve and per-
petuate those beautiful Melodies, to rid them
of their coarse metrical associates, and to get
them matched with others more congenial
to their nature and worthy of their beauty, it
is observed by Dr Currie, in his interesting
Life of Burns, that " there is no species of
" Poetry, the productions of the drama not ex-
" cepted, so much calculated to influence the
" morals, as well as the happiness of a people,
" as those popular verses which are associated
" with national airs, and which being learnt in
" the years of infancy, make a deep impression
" on the heart, before the evolution of the
" powers of the understanding."
It was under a similar impression with res-
pect to the Poetry, that the Editor undertook
its revisal and purification.. Most fortunately
for the lovers of music and song, he applied to
our great National Poet, Kqhekt Burns ; who,
in the most liberal and cordial manner, under-
took to write a large proportion of the Songs
I!
PREFACE.
wanting. He performed what he promised, in a
manner that transcended the most sanguine ex-
pectations of the Editor, having enriched the
Work with the most exquisite Songs, both Scot-
tish and English, that exist in any language :
they exhibit all the charms of the Poet's ge-
nius in the utmost variety, both of serious and
humorous composition j and every intelligent
reader will contemplate his luxuriant fancy,
his ardent feeling, and manly sentiment, and
the impressive energy and simplicity of his
style, with equal wonder and delight. All his
tender and impassioned Songs breathe the ge-
nuine, glowing, unaffected language of the
heart ; while the scenes, the manners, the in-
nocence, and the pleasures of rural life, are
pourtrayed with a pencil so true to nature, as
to engage our warmest sympathies and admi-
ration.
On the lamented death of Burns, the Edi-
tor, after a considerable pause, sought, and for-
tunately obtained the assistance of Mrs Joanna
Baillie, Mrs Grant, Mrs John Hunter,
Sir Alexander Boswell, Sir Walter Scott,
Thomas Campbell, and William Smyth,
Esqrs., whose valuable contributions to his
Scottish, Irish, and Welsh Collections, exceed
150 Songs ; which, with those of Burns,
form upwards of two hundred and fifty
new songs — in addition to the best anony-
mous Songs of the olden time — and the se-
lect ones of Ramsay, Crawford, Hamilton,
Thomson, Smollett, Skinner, AIacneil,
Hogg, &c.
Dr. Burney says, "It should be a principal
" object of mankind to attach the fair sex by
" every means to music, as it is the only a-
" musement that may be enjoyed to excess,
" and the heart still remain virtuous and un-
" corrupted." The great object of the Editor
has been to heighten and refine that amuse-
ment : and accordingly, amidst all the variety
of Songs contained in his Volumes, whether
plaintive, amatory, gay, or humorous, not one
will be found inimical to the most virtuous and
delicate feeling ; not one which he hesitates to
put into the hands of his own daughters, or,
one, " which dying, he could wish to blot."
The present Work will be found to contain
nearly the whole of the Scottish Melodies, to-
gether with a selection of the most popular
Irish and Welch Melodies, in the Editor's folio
edition of those three Works.
The Symphonies and Accompaniments of the
folio volumes have been adopted in the present
Work, and arranged so as to be complete for
the Piano-Forte, without the addition of the
Violin and Violoncello. The Poetry attached
to the Melodies in the great Works, is also re-
tained in the present Publication, and includes
a number of additional new Songs.
The characteristic Engravings, from Scottish
song, which embellish this Work, from Designs
of Allan and Stoth ard, will, it is hoped, be
duly appreciated by every person of taste.
To what period, and to what description of
persons, the Public are indebted for the origi-
nal production of the Scottish Melodies, have
long been questions for the investigation of the
Antiquary. Whether, in the annexed Disser-
tation, a near approach has been made to the
solution of these questions, the Editor will not
presume to decide.
Edinburgh, Royal Exchange, March 1822.
*jj* With respect to the mode of singing the Scottish Melodies, there is one great error which the Kditor has fre-
quently observed with peculiar regret ; that is, the very slow time, and languid manner, which many of his fair
countrywomen have been taught to adopt. This not only imparts a lifeless character to the Music, but occasions
soch a very indistinct and imperfect pronunciation of the words, that the hearers, far from receiving any mental
pleasure, can scarcely find out the subject of the song The Scottish Songs, when performed in this very slow
dmv«!ing way, lose their proper character ; and, instead of delighting the fancy or touching the heart, as they must
do, if sung and spoken with feeling and animation, they rather tend to luLl the passive bearers asleep.
DISSERTATION
CONCERNING THE
NATIONAL MELODIES OF SCOTLAND.
JL he National Music of Scotland comprehends
a very great number of Melodies, adapted to
the expression of emotion and passion in their
various gradations, from the most plaintive to
the most joyous. The Melodies of the Low-
lands are essentially different from those of the
Highlands ; the Vocal Melodies are, of course,
very different from the tunes composed for in-
struments ; and the old Vocal Melodies, or what
may be considered as the original stock of our
national music, differ from the Melodies of more
modern date, which have been added to that
stock at various periods. An inquiry into the
nature and causes of these diversities, would
lead to a very long discussion ; but an attempt
to ascertain the origin and antiquity of the
Vocal Melodies of the Lowland Scots, and a
few remarks on their style and character, com-
pared with the national music of other coun-
tries, may form an appropriate introduction to
a Collection of the best of those Melodies.
There is hardly any people, however rude,
that has not its music. The warrior, the hun-
ter, and the shepherd, sing their triumphs,
their exploits, and their loves, in strains dicta-
ted by nature, and inspired by feeling. Even
among the most barbarous tribes, if there are
any traces of the softer and better emotions, it
is in their Songs that these traces are to be
taunti ; and music is thus, not merely the most
innocent and refined pleasure which a rude
people can enjoy, but a powerful instrument in
quickening the progress of improvement, by
cherishing the best feelings of our nature.
It is to be expected that the original music of
different nations, though differing in its charac-
ter according to the varieties of their situations
and manners, will yet, as being prompted by
nature, agree in containing the most simple
and elementary sounds of the musical scale.
Our musical scale of the present day, though
it appears simple and natural to us, is, in reali-
ty, the gradual result of theoretical deduction
and practical improvement ; and it is certain,
that a great part of what is called national mu-
sic, is constructed according to a scale, which,
though different from the regular scale of the
moderns, is found to be the same in the most
remote and unconnected parts of the world.
When the nature and properties of this scale,
which, for the sake of distinction, shall be cal-
led the national scale, are precisely defined, it
becomes a. criterion for separating our old na-
tional music from that which is modern, and
for ascertaining what must have been the pri-
mary form of the original airs.
In Scotland, as well as every other country
in Europe which possesses a body of national
music, this music has been much changed ar.d
modified by the cultivation of the art during
a long period, in the course of which a know-
ledge of it has been gradually diffused among
1
DISSERTATION CONCERNING THE
the people, and instruments introduced that
were formerly unknown. The old Scottish
airs, however, are so strongly marked, that
it is by no means difficult, by analysing, and
comparing them, to discover in what their pe-
culiar character consists, and thus to find a
test by which to try their antiquity.
The peculiarity of the Scottish scale has been
frequently remarked, though its properties, so
far as we know, have never yet been accurate-
ly defined. Attempts have indeed been made
to deduce, from the character and structure of
die Melodies, some conclusions as to their an-
tiquity, particularly by Mr Tytler, in his Dis-
sertation on Scottish Song : — " The distin-
guishing strain," he remarks, " of our old Me-
" lodies, is plaintive and melancholy; and what
" makes them soothing and affecting to a great
" degree is, the constant use of the concordant
" tones, the third and fifth of the scale, often
u ending upon the fifth, and some of them up-
" on the sixth of the scale." Upon this slender
foundation he grounds a number of conclusions
respecting the comparative age of the most no-
ted melodies. But it must be obvious to every
musician, that his account of the structure of
the airs can afford no data from which any sa-
tisfactory conclusion can be drawn.
Other enquirers have remarked the circum-
stance, which, in truth, forms the sole peculi-
arity of the national scaler — the want, namely,
of the fourth and seventh of the key ; but, not
having been able to account, in this manner,
for the seeming variety arising from the airs
being sometimes in the major and sometimes
in the minor mode, they have been under the
necessity of supposing that there are two dif-
ferent scales, the one major, and the other mi-
nor. Thus, thev have said, that while the ma-
jor scale wants the fourth and seventh, the mi-
nor wants the second and sixth of the key ;
and, even this not being sufficient to account
for the structure of many airs, they have ima-
gined another minor scale, similar to the major,
except in having the third and sixth flattened.
This obviously implies the supposition, that the
national scale, instead of consisting of one simple
series of sounds, without semitones, and of the
most natural and easy intonation, contained dif-
ferent series, in some of which semitones were
introduced. Besides, it will immediately bE
shewn, that it is incorrect to say that the
minor scale wants the second, for there are
some minor airs which have this interval, and
(strange as it may appear) want the third ; and
that there can be no such thing in the national
scale, as the interval of a semitone. The truth, in
short, is, that there is but one series of sounds
in the national scale, upon which every ancient
Scottish air is constructed, whatever may be
its varieties, either of mode or of character.
This national scale is the modern diatonic
scale, divested of the fourth and seventh; —
thus:
i
¥
It is impossible to hear this scale without
feeling how entirely it possesses the character
of Scottish melody ; and, from a careful exa-
mination of the whole body of our national mu-
sic, it appears that every air (with a very few
exceptions) which is really ancient, is con-
structed precisely according to this scale, and
does not contain a single note which is foreign
to it, — excepting only in the case of those airs
(which aie few in number) of which the series
has occasionally been altered by the introduc-
tion of the flat seventh. The truth of this re-
mark will appear from an analysis of some of
the airs which are most diversified in their cha-
racter.
In saying, that an air is constructed upon a
certain scale, it is meant that the melody is
strictly confined to the notes of that scale,
though they may be taken in any order, or
carried upwards or downwards to any extent.
Our primitive musicians might wander up and
down the scale, forming such successions of
notes, and dwelling or stopping on such parts
of the scale as pleased them ; but they could
no more introduce minuter divisions of the
scale, or sounds not comprehended in it, than
a musician of the present day could introduce
sounds not to he found in the scale to which
his ear has been accustomed. A person, whose
NATIONAL MELODIES OF SCOTLAND.
ideas are confined to the diatonic scale, could
never introduce chromatic intervals into his
melodies ; and even those who are familiar
with the chromatic scale, cannot introduce en-
harmonic intervals, though those intervals seem
to have been in common use among the Greeks,
in consequence of their musicians havingdisco-
vered and introduced into practice the enhar-
monic scale. From this manner of wandering
up and down the scale, and stopping on any
part of it at pleasure, our old airs are found not
always to close on what we call the key-note,
but frequently on other parts of the scale ; and
a greater or lesser degree of wildness is given
to the melody, in consequence of its close being
more or less different from what we are used
to in modern music. A considerable variety
of character will be given to the airs, as they
happen to rest chiefly, or close upon certain
parts of the scale, which will thus become prin-
cipal, or key-notes, and will give the airs the
appearance of being composed in different keys,
and in different modes, though they contain
invariably no sounds but those in the simple
series which has already been given. A strain
beginning and ending, for instance, with C,
and running through the series of sounds al-
ready given, as filling up the distance between
C and its octave, will appear to be in the mo-
dern key of C major. An air beginning and
closing on A, and running through the sounds
in the same series between that note and its oc-
tave, will have an effect similar to a modern
composition in A minor ; and similar varieties
will be produced by taking D, or E, as the pre-
dominating note in the melody. Thus, a scale
producing an impression like that of A minor,
is formed by merely placing the note A at
the beginning of the scale already given j
lip^Hi
and, by commencing with D, or E, the follow-
ing scales are produced :
fe^^Hfciipjipa
VOL. I.
By singing or playing these scales, it will
be found that they have a character differ-
ent from the scale commencing with C, as well as
from each other. The scales beginning with
A and E have an effect resembling very near-
ly the modern minor scale. They agree in
having the minor third, the great characteris-
tic of the minor mode, and the flat seventh ;
but the one has the fifth without the sixth,
and the other has the sixth without the fifth.
A scale, however, without so essential a note
as the fifth of the key, seems not adapted for
practical use ; and, therefore, it will be found,
on examining the old melodies in the minor
mode, that they generally contain the notes in
the series commencing with A. Various airs
are to be foimd consisting of the notes in the
series beginning with D ; and although this
series wants the third, yet these airs give the
impression of being in the minor mode, and re-
quire minor harmony.
It will be observed, however, that, as all
these different kinds of airs are, in reality, con-
structed upon one series or scale of sounds, and
as their composers had no idea of the distinc-
tion of major and minor modes, but were prompt-
ed merely by their taste or feeling to rest
or close upon particular notes of the scale, we
cannot expect that exact distinction of modes
which is to be found in modern music. The
melody is frequently equivocal in this respect,
and may be considered as belonging either to
one mode or the other ; modern composers,
in harmonizing these airs, find it necessary to
make frequent transitions from the harmony of
the major mode to that of the minor, and vice
versa: and it is in the skill with which these tran-
sitions have been managed, so as to gratify the
ear with beautiful harmony, without impairing
the original character of the air, that the cele-
brated composers, whose labours have contribut-
ed so much to the value of this work, have so
greatly distinguished themselves.
All this will be clearly illustrated by a few
passages from different melodies.
In the series of C — the air " Auld lang
syne,"
6
DISSERTATION CONCERNING THE
ssmta
In the series of A — the air " Wandering
Willie,"
The air, of which this is the first part, is
considered as in the minor mode, because both
the first and second parts terminate in that
mode ; but it is evident, that a considerable
portion of the above passage must be treated as
being in the key of C major.
The following (in the same series) is a re-
markable instance of the same sort of equivocal
modulation.
The Mucking of Geordie's Byre.
^^^^^^^sn
The close in A minor here determines the
key, and renders it necessary, in harmonizing
the air, to preserve the impression of this key
as much as possible ; but if the final note were
changed from A to C, and a slight change made
on the preceding bar, the whole air might be
considered and harmonized as in the key of C
major.
The following passage (the first part of
" Bonny Dundee") is constructed upon the
series of D ; and, though the third is always
passed over, yet it is felt to be in the key of
D minor.
' it j^tpj- 1 II
I" grrtr*i^ jj
The second part of the same air is a curious
instance of that mixture of modes already men-
tioned :
WnjfrWCM
§is
This strain begins in C major, and passes in-
to A minor, on which there is a decided close ;
it then returns to C major, and finally closes in
D minor, the original key. It would be diffi-
cult to find, in the works of the most skilful
composer, any passage so short as this, so full
of variety in its modulation, and yet so unaffect-
edly sweet and simple in its expression.
Other varieties in the character of Scottish
airs are produced by their closing on the second,
third, fifth, or sixth of the scale. One or two
instances of these will be sufficient.
The close on the fifth is of very frequent
occurrence.
Hey Tutti Taiti.
The close on the sixth has a very wild effect.
Woo'd and Married and a'.
s
sttttgi
S
m
m
i
All the varieties which have been hitherto no-
ticed, are produced without the slightest devia-
tion from the original scale. There are, how-
ever, some few instances of old airs in which
this series is not precisely adhered to. This
happens, in the first place, where the flat se-
venth is introduced, as a note of great empha-
sis and expression, without any other change in
the series. It is done, with the most exqui-
site effect, in the second part of the air " Wa-
ly waly," which begins thus :
g^lggg^if *■
f It is perhaps scarce necessary to mention that, in the above examples, the Airs are given in their primitive
form, divested of all modem embellishment.
NATIONAL MELODIES OF SCOTLAND.
The same effect is produced by the same
means, in " The Flowers of the Forest,"
" Lochaber," &c. Of this last air, however,
it may be observed, that the introduction of the
flat seventh, in the second part, which adds so
much pathos to the melody, seems of modern
date, — for the air, as printed in the Orpheus
Caledonius, wants it. There is something, how-
ever, so natural and pleasing in sliding from the
sixth to the flat seventh, while it has such a me-
lancholy and sighing expression, that a minstrel
of more than ordinary refinement and feeling
may easily have hit upon it, in a moment of in-
spiration, even at a very early period of the art.
The only other variety, arising from a devi-
ation from the original scale, happens where
the flat seventh is introduced, not merely as a
note of expression, but as the primary note of
a new series of sounds, or, in modern language,
as the fundamental of a new key. There are
very few instances of this ; and the airs in
which it occurs are not good, the effect being
harsh and unpleasing. The following example
is from the air " Bonny Lesly."
This is a modulation from one major key to
another, on the note immediately below ; a mo-
dulation utterly inadmissible in regular music.
It thus appears, that, unless in those few
instances in which a variety is produced by the
introduction of the flat seventh, the Scottish
Melodies are constructed upon a scale which
differs from the modern diatonic scale, in its
wanting the fourth and seventh ; from which it
may be inferred, that it is natural to leave out
these notes, and that their introduction into
the modern scale is an artificial process. This
inference is confirmed, in the first place, from
observing the difficulty which untaught singers
have in sounding one of its most predominating
notes, the sharp seventh, particularly in the
minor mode. To a cultivated taste, it appears
quite barbarous to rise from the fiat seventh to
the octave, and yet we hear this invariably
done in minor airs, by rustic musicians, who
do not exhibit either want of ear or musical
feeling. It has often been remarked, too, that
the fourth is not easily sung in tune by unedu-
cated singers : And it thus appears, that the
notes of the modern scale the most difficult to
be sung, are those which involve the interval
of a semitone; and that the national scale, by
passing over these notes, avoids the difficulty
of sounding this minute interval. The same
conclusion is still more remarkably confirmed
by observing, not only that our national scale
has been ascertained to be the same with that
of various other countries, but tha t it appears
to be precisely the same with the most ancient
scale of the Greeks.
The Vocal Music of the Highlands of Scot-
land, though differing greatly from the Low-
land airs in its expression, is of precisely the
same structure in regard to its scale, a circum-
stance of which ample proof is to be obtained
from the Rev. Mr M 'Donald's valuable collec-
tion of Highland airs. The vocal airs of the
Highlanders are of a character totally different
from their instrumental music, a great part of
which (their pibroch, for example,) is elabo-
rate and complicated in its structure, and con-
tains all the notes of the diatonic scale, ex-
tended to a very considerable compass. There
is reason to believe, from the researches of Mr
Gunn,* that instrumental music was much cul-
tivated in the Highlands at a very remote pe-
riod, and that the harp was used at an era
prior to the introduction of the bagpipe. In
like manner, most of the old Irish vocal airs
(for many of the finest of their airs have been
composed by Carolan, and other modern harp-
ers) are constructed according to the same
scale with our own ; while their dances, and
other tunes composed for their instruments,
are more regular and extensive in their scale.
The music of Wales is almost entirely instru-
mental^ The harp has been generally used in
* Historical Enquiry into the Performance on the Harp,
t The Editor was informed, by a lady of rank in
Wales, that the common people in that country are not
much in the habit of singing, and that their musical re-
creation consists chiefly in listening to the performances of
their harpers, of whom there is one in almost every village.
8
DISSERTATION CONCERNING THE
that country from a very remote period, and
still continues to be so ; and the natural con-
sequence of the use of an instrument of such
powers, is, that the Welch airs are almost as
regular in their structure as modem composi-
tions. The popular airs of Italy, and particu-
larly of Venice, (which are the most remark-
able,) though simple, are exquisitely polished
and elegant ; but no rudeness could be expect-
ed in the music of a people among whom the
gondolierij and other common classes, have made
it their amusement to recite the poetry of Tasso.
The French national airs of the present day
may plainly be traced from the airs of the
Troubadours in Provence and the other south-
ern provinces;* the oldest even of which possess
very few of the peculiarities of national melody.
The same is the case with the Melodies of
Spain, which, though often wild and singular
in their measure, are, in general, perfectly
smooth and regular, in so far as regards the
succession of notes, — a circumstance easily ex-
plained from the prevalence of the guitar for
so many centuries in that country. It is
not equally easy to account for the peculiar
character of the national music of the Danes,
Norwegians, and other Scandinavian tribes,
which, though exceedingly simple, gives free
admission to notes which are not to be
found in our national scale. The airs of those
countries are almost always in the minor
mode ; and, not only is the sharp seventh of
common occurrence in them, but they contain
intervals which are rarely met with, even
in modern music.t It is difficult, certainly,
to understand how this music should contain
passages of such nice and difficult intonation ;
though there seems reason to believe, that mu-
sic was cultivated, and the use of the harp
known, among the Scandinavian nations, at
a very early period. J But, notwithstanding
this exception, and perhaps some others,
the general fact of the extensive preva-
lence of the national scale is suficiently es-
tablished. It has been ascertained, that the
Chinese music is exactly conformable to
this scale, and has, consequently, a great deal
of the Scottish character. Dr Burney gives
* The most ancient Melodies, known to be such by po-
sitive evidence, (not to speak of the fragments of Greek
melody which have been preserved) are those set to the
verses of the Provengal poets, or Troubadours, who were
also the composers and performers of their music. A num-
ber of these songs and melodies are to be found in the
" Essai sur la Musique Ancienne et Moderne" by Mr La-
borde, a very splendid work published at Paris in 1780,
(Vol. II.) and Dr Burney gives a few of those of which
the authenticity is best established. The Provengal poe-
try and music seem to have flourished chiefly during the
15th and 11th centuries ; and the airs of those days, com-
posed by the Troubadours, appear, from the specimens
preserved, to have been almost as polished and regular
as the French airs of the present day. This is particu-
lar! v the case with regard to two of the airs composed by
Thibaut, King of Navarre, who died in 1254, which are
given by Burney, Vol. II. pages 297 and 500, — and also
an air given by the same author, (p. 290,) from a manu-
script of the 14th century in the Bodleian library ; and
this is to be ascribed to the attention which was then
paid to the cultivation of music, and the variety of
instruments in general use. But it is a remarkable
circumstance, that the beautiful and celebrated songs
of the Chatelain de Coucy, (whose romantic and melan-
choly story is so well known to the readers of old poetry
and romance,) are, though belonging to the same period,
set to airs of a very different character, resembling the
rudest of our own melodies in their structure and confor-
mity to the national scale. The history of the Chatelain
de Coucy, and a number of his songs, some of them ac-
companied with their music, are given in the " Essai sal
la Musique," (Vol. II. p. 251. et seq. ) and two of the most
pleasing of them are selected by Dr Burney, who has given
them in modern notes, and with a bass, (Vol. II. p.285, 286.)
These songs are exactly copied from manuscripts near 50O
years old ; and it is perfectly evident, from their whole
character and structure, that, in their original state, they
must have been precisely according to the national scale :
though, when they were united to the poetry of the Chate-
lain de Coucy, and reduced to writing, (which must have
been the work of a regular musician,) they were smoothed
and embellished by the introduction of notes of taste, — in
the same manner as has happened to our own melodies. It
may, therefore, be inferred that these airs, so unlike the
other melodies of that time of which specimens have been
preserved, are the remains of the popular music of a still
older period, prior to the cultivation of music as an art,
and the general use of musical instruments.
f A number of these airs are given in the Essai sm
la Musique Ancienne et Moderne.
% Vide Encyclopaedia Britannica, Art. Minstrel.
NATIONAL MELODIES OF SCOTLAND.
an account of a Chinese musical instrument,
which could produce only the intervals of this
scale.* Rousseau,f gives a Chinese air pre-
cisely according to it ; and other Chinese airs
of the same kind have been collected by differ-
ent travellers. J Many wild and beautiful airs,
strongly resembling our own, have been found
in Persia, and the mountainous parts of India ;
and melodies of the same cast have been re-
marked among the Moors in Barbary, and the
natives of North America.
The musical scale of the Greeks, it is well
known, assumed a very artificial and complex
form in the later ages of that people. But it ap-
pears to be the result of DrBurney's laborious
enquiries into this subject, that, at an early pe-
riod, there was a scale, called by him the old
Enharmonic scale, which he conceives to have
been formed, not from the deductions of science,
but from a natural feeling of its beauty ; and
which, he observes, has a very remarkable re-
semblance to the Scottish scale. Dr Burney
concludes, that the old Enharmonic scale ex-
isted in two varieties, which, in modern notes,
are as follow :
1.
2.
m
-b»
i
i
£
i
The first of these scales, however, differs
from the Scottish scale in the very essential
circumstance, that it contains the interval of a
semitone between the B flat and A. The se-
cond possesses the Scottish character in a very
striking degree ; for (to use Dr Bumey's
words) " if we suppose the key note to be G
" instead of E, a major key instead of a minor,
" this omission gives precisely the Scots scale."
But Dr Burney seems to have made a mistake
in expressing this last variety of the scale in
modern notes, by correcting which, the iden-
tity of the old Enharmonic with the Scottish
scale becomes still more apparent.
* Vol. I. p. 58. t Diet de Musique.
§ Burney, Vol. I. p. 5i.
VOL. I.
Dr Burney quotes § the passage in Plu-
tarch, in which an account is given of the
origin of the old Enharmonic scale. From
this account, it appears, that this scale was
formed in the Dorian mode, by skipping or
passing over the note called Lichanos, in
each tetrachord of which that mode consist-
ed ; and Plutarch further says,|| that it was
likewise usual for the old Grecian minstrels
to pass over the note called Trite. To make
this understood, it is necessary to attend to the
structure of the Greek diatonic scale, as it sub-
sisted till after the days of Pindar. It did not
consist, like ours, of two separate tetrachords,
or series of four notes each, forming the oc-
tave; but it consisted of two conjoint tetra-
chords ; the highest note of the first tetrachord
being the lowest note of the second. The
Greek diatonic scale thus consisted, strictly
speaking, of only seven notes ; and a note was
added to the bottom of it to complete the dia-
pason or octave. Thus,
1st Tetrachord. 2d Tetrachord.
m
w
■*«
ii
Added note.
Now, the third sound from the bottom of a
tetrachord was called Lichanos, and the third
sound from the top was called Trite. And,
therefore, the first variety of the old Enhar-
monic scale was formed by leaving out the
third sound from the bottom of each tetrachord,
while the second variety was produced by
leaving out the third sound from the top of
each. Plutarch says, that it was in the Do-
rian mode that this was done. The Dorian
mode was just a transposition of the foregoing
series into a similar series, commencing with
D ; and its scale, accordingly, was the follow-
ing:
1st Tetr.
2d Tetr.
m
■%:
SI
i
Added note.
} See the Etsai sur la Musijue Anciennc et Modernc.
J Ibid, p. 39.
10
DISSERTATION CONCERNING THE
The third sounds from the bottom of each
tetrachord in this scale, are G and C ; and by
leaving them out, we have exactly the first se-
ries of the old Enharmonic scale, as given by
Dr Burney. The third sounds from the top
of each tetrachord are F and B b ; and by
leaving them out, we have, not the scale given
by Dr Burney as the second variety of the old
Enharmonic, but the following :
tk4=UU^
which is precisely the series of the Scottish
scale, commencing with D : and thus the re-
markable circumstance is clearly established,
that the most ancient scale of the Greeks con-
sisted of the very same series of notes with
that which is found in the Scottish scale. *
It will now be pretty evident, that, by the
application of this national scale (which has
thus been ascertained to be of so ancient a
date, and of such general prevalence) to our
Scottish melodies, a good deal may be done
towards discriminating between such of them
as are really ancient, and such as are modern.
In doing this, however, it is necessary to keep
in view some general conclusions, which may
be deduced from what has already been said.
The prevalence of the national scale appears |
plainly to belong to a very rude and primitive
state of society, when music is nothing more
than the art of giving utterance to the few
elementary tones which are immediately prompt-
ed by nature. As soon as music is more cul-
tivated, and instruments of some power and
compass are introduced, the airs must begin
to assume a different character, and to shew
marks of being constructed according to a
scale formerly unknown. From Allan Kam-
say's Tea- Table Miscellany, we are informed
what were the airs which were considered old
in the year 1724, when that work was pub-
lished. On examining these airs, it appears,
that, by far the greater proportion of them are
precisely agreeable to the national scale, while
a small number are of a more artificial struc-
ture. The former, it may be concluded,
were formed at a period when music, as an
art, was unknown in Scotland ;f and the latter
at periods comparatively modern, when, from
the cultivation of the art, the people came to
have the idea of sounds not to be found in the
primitive scale. Of this latter class, those airs
may be considered the oldest which deviate
from the scale merely by the introduction of
the flat seventh in the manner already pointed
out ; while those airs which contain all the in-
tervals of the diatonic scale may be considered
as the most recent. A short time before the
* The scale given by Dr Burney, as formed by passing
over the note called Trite, may certainly be obtained, by
leaving out the Trite of the three last of the five tetra-
chords, of which the Greek diatonic scale consisted, in its
latest and most improved state. But these three tetra-
chords were not added till after the time of Pindar ; and
Olympus, (who flourished before the Trojan war,) and
the other old musicians of whom Plutarch speaks, could
have had no scale but that already described, which con-
sisted only of two tetrachords, corresponding, in the Dorian
mode, to our key of D minor. In making the above re-
marks, we by no means wish to convey any reflection
unfavourable to that learned and excellent writer, Dr
Burney. His discussion on the nature of the old En-
harmonic scale of the Greeks is highly ingenious and
original, and throws much light on one of the most
curious questions in musical antiquities ; while his er-
ror, as to the precise notes of one of the forms of that
scale, is trivial, when considered in relation to the object
he had in view, which was not an investigation into the
ancient history of Scottish music. Succeeding writers who
have noticed Dr Burney's discovery of the resemblance of
the Scottish to the old Enharmonic scale, have attended
only to iliejirst variety of that scale, which differs essen-
tially from the Scottish scale, in contaiuing the interval
of a semitone. This has been done by Mr Graham, in his
Essay subjoined to his elegant account of the Edinburgh
Musical Festival in 1815. Mr Graham, however, like
Dr Burney, was not engaged in any inquiry respecting
Scottish music, and merely mentioned the subject inci-
dentally. Dr Burney's authority upon this subject has
also been followed in a paper upon Scottish music in the
12th number of the Quarterly Musical Magazine and
Beview, a work conducted with very considerable talent,
f The Editor, of course, does not speak of the High-
lands of Scotland, where, if we may believe some writers,
music was scientifically cultivated at a period more remote
than either in Wales or Ireland. (See Mr Gunn's in-
genious work on this subject.)
NATIONAL MELODIES OF SCOTLAND.
11
publication of the Tea- Table Miscellany, it had
become very much the fashion in London to
write and compose songs and tunes in the Scot-
tish style, for the theatres and public gardens.
Some of these were adopted by Ramsay ; and,
by this means, have obtained a place among our
popular airs, though they possess very little of
the Scottish character. The composers of
those airs, from Dr Green down to Dr Arne,
seem to have adopted a kind of conventional
style, which they chose to call Scottish ; and a
good many of their airs having found their way
into Scotland, have become naturalized among
us.
With regard to the first class of the airs
mentioned by Ramsay, or those which are of
the most antique structure, it may safely be
concluded, that these airs could not have been
composed by persons conversant in music.
They must, at all events, have been of con-
siderable antiquity in Ramsay's time ; and
several of them are supposed to have been the
work of some of our Scottish kings, — particu-
larly of James I. and James IV. But it may
be almost demonstrated, that this could not
have been the case. It is well known to those
who are at all acquainted with musical history,
that, from the revival of learning after the
dark ages, down to the middle of the seven-
teenth century, music, as scientifically studied,
was infinitely more remote from popular or na-
tional music than it is at the present day.
Music, as then studied and practised, was to-
tally destitute of melody and rhythm, of which
national music is entirely made up, and con-
sisted of elaborate harmonical combinations, and
of all the puzzles and intricacies of fugue and
canon. This was the only kind of music which
was cultivated by the great masters of those
days, or by the dilettanti who followed their
footsteps ; and it was not till a comparatively
recent period, that the Italian composers be-
gan to discover, that many beauties might
be borrowed from the national airs of their
country. If James the First, or James the
Fourth, therefore, or any other dilettante of
high rank in our country, studied music in those
days, it must have been the music fashionable
throughout Europe at that period ; — and it is
impossible to suppose, that such a student,
wholly occupied with madrigals in six and se-
ven parts, consisting of nothing but harmony
and contrivance, could ever have composed any
thing like one of our national airs. This evi-
dently shews the absurdity of the often-repeated
story, that James I. introduced a sweet and
plaintive music, in which he was imitated by
Carlo Gesualdo, Prince of Venosa. The works
of the Prince of Venosa are still extant, consist-
ing of laboured madrigals, in a great number
of parts, but totally destitute of melody, or
rhythm, or indeed of any thing at all resembling
an air of any kind.* This illustrious amateur
employed himself like every other musician of
his day ; and if James I. ever attempted musi-
cal composition, it would doubtless be in a si-
milar style. The words of Tassoni, therefore,
as Dr Burney justly remarks, can only be un-
derstood to imply that these princely dilettanti
were equally cultivators and inventors of mu-
sic. + The same conclusion may be drawn
from an examination of the noted collection of
songs, with music, published at Aberdeen in
1666. The music of these songs is evidently
composed by a scientific musician, and resem-
bles, in style, the English music of that period.
It is in parts, and of regular structure ; but it
has that air of psalmody which pervaded all mu-
* Specimens of the compositions of Gesualdo are given
both by Dr Burney and Sir John Hawkins. These au-
thors differ widely in their estimate of the merit of these
productions; but the specimens speak for themselves.
+ Pinkerton, in his History of Scotland, Vol. I. p. 180,
oa the authority of Bower, says, that " James I. sung
" well, and played on the tabor, bagpipe, psaltery, organ,
" the flute, the harp, the trumpet, the shepherd's reed ;
" oa the harp, in particular, his performances were ad-
" mirable, and were highly applauded both by Irish and
"English masters." That this prince must have encour-
aged music greatly, is evident from a passage in Bellen-
den's Chronicle, B. xvii. c. 3., which, after mentioning
his patronage of learning, proceeds thus : " Thairfore all
" maner of virtew spred fast during his time : and above
" al other commoditeis, the service of God incressit with
" gret reverence and honour, in maist crafty musick, as
" yet occures to our dayes."
12
DISSERTATION CONCERNING THE
sic in those days, from the total want of rhythm
and accent •, and is as remote as possible from
the character of our national airs. It is im-
possible, then, to suppose, that the musical
composers of those times, whose thoughts were
wholly bent on the weighty matters of learned
harmony and deep contrivance, and who do
not seem to have even had an idea of melody
or rhythmical movement, could ever have com-
posed any of those fine airs which derive from
these qualities almost all their beauty.
We are, therefore, warranted in concluding,
that the era of the melodies mentioned as old
by Ramsay, which conform to the national
scale, must have been a very remote one, an-
terior to the common use, among the people,
of those instruments which are capable of pro-
ducing the diatonic scale. Now, it appears,
that different musical instruments have been
in use in Scotland from a very distant period ;
and, without going into much detail on this
subject, it may be observed, that the Scottish
Lowland bagpipe, (a distinct instrument from
the great Highland bagpipe) was a favourite
and popular instrument for many centuries.
It is mentioned as a popular instrument in
James the First's celebrated poem of Peblis to
tlie Play ; and this prince was murdered in
1457. It is also mentioned as a popular in-
strument in a poem of Sir David Lindsay,
written about 1550. From the following cu-
rious passage in Brantomc, who accompanied
Queen Mary to Scotland, and describes the
reception she met with from the populace of
Edinburgh, it appears that violins, or rather
viols and rebecs, were in common use among
them : — " Estant logee en bas enl'Abbaye de
" l'lslebourg, vindrent sous la fenestre cinq
" ou six cents marauts de la ville, lui donner
" anbade de meschants violons et petits rebecs
" dont il n'yen a f ante en ce pays la; et semi-
" rent a chanter pseaumes, tant mal chantez,
" et si mal accordez, que rien plus. He !
" (adds Brantome,) quelle musique, et quel
" repos pour sa nuit !" The scale of the Low-
land bagpipe, as well as of the viol and rebec,
was the regular diatonic scale ; and the inter-
vals of that scale, though unknown when a
large body of Scottish airs were composed,
must have been pretty familiar to the ears of
the people, so far back as the age of James I.
or the beginning of the 15th century. It is
probable, indeed, that this was the case at a
much earlier date ; for an instrument which
was popular at that time, may be presumed to
have been known for a long time before.
What has already been said, applies to those
airs which appear to have been of some stand-
ing in the time of Allan Ramsay, or of which
historical notices are to be found of a still ear-
lier date. There are, besides these, however, a
great many airs, of which nothing whatever is
historically known, and whose antiquity must
be judged of entirely by internal evidence. A
number of these airs speak for themselves, be-
ing evidently so modern in their style and
structure, that it is impossible to doubt that
they are mere imitations, composed during the
eighteenth century. Others, again, are mark-
ed with all the peculiarities of the national
scale and character-, and, though this renders
it more than probable that they are old airs,
yet it does not positively prove them to be so,
because it is very possible for a modern com-
poser, who is acquainted with the peculiar cha-
racter of our melodies, to imitate them very ex-
actly. Thus, the " Banks and Braes of Bonny
Doon" was composed by a gentleman of Edin-
burgh,whohad been jocularly told thataScottish
air could be produced by merely running the fin-
gers over the black keys of a piano-forte, which
give precisely the progression of the national
scale. It is certain, however, that the imitators
of Scottish airs have never been sufficiently
aware of the properties of this scale ; and there-
fore, their productions, though often pretty,
and sometimes tolerably Scottish in their style,
can, in general, be easily detected, from their
containing notes, essential to the melody, which
do not belong to the national scale. Among all
the numerous airs which are known to be imi-
tations, it may safely be affirmed, that, with the
single exception just mentioned, there is not
one which could be mistaken for an ancient
NATIONAL MELODIES OF SCOTLAND.
13
air ; and therefore it is, at least, more than
probable, that those airs which possess strictly
the character of the old airs, are really old,—
and, if so, coeval with the airs of the oldest
class which has been described.
In pursuing this investigation, there is an-
other consideration very necessary to be at-
tended to, that almost all the old airs, in the
form in which they are now found in our col-
lections, differ more or less from their primi-
tive shape. In some few cases, the air is es-
sentially altered, so that it can no longer be re-
conciled to the scale on which it was originally
constructed ; while, in all the other instances,
the air is merely rendered smoother and more
graceful, without any essential change in its
structure.
Of the first kind of alterations, the following
appear to be some of the most remarkable in-
stances. The " Ewe BugAts" is known to be
an old air ; yet, in its present shape, it is irre-
concileable to the national scale. But in its
more ancient form, as given in the Orpheus
Caledonius, it is quite antique in its structure.
In that form, the melody is rude and ungrace-
ful ; and the air owes almost all its beauty to
the refinement which it has borrowed from mo-
dern taste. It has already been observed,
that the exquisite flat seventh in the air of
" LocAabcr" is a modern innovation. The
" Mill, Mill, 0," as given in the Orpheus
Caledonius, is very rugged, and contains lit-
tle of the beauty of the air as it now stands.
Similar changes have been made on the " Auld
Gudemanf " Lass of Porte's Mill," and some
other melodies.
Though such material changes as these seem .
few in number, yet almost every one of the old
sirs has, in the progress of taste and refinement,
undergone those slighter changes which consist
merely in softening or rounding the contour of
the melody (if the expression may be allowed)
so as to make it more agreeable to modern taste,
—not in mutilating its body, or altering any of
its essential lineaments, but only in bestowing
an the same form and features a greater degree
of grace and elegance. These changes do not
rot. I.
in the least conceal the original form of the
air, or render it at all difficult to reduce it to
its primary elements; — so that it is perfect-
ly easy, by observing, from the general tenor of
an air, upon what variety of the scale it has
been constructed, to divest it of all modern em-
bellishment, and to discover with unerring cer-
tainty what must have been its primitive form.
This is of great use in a speculative point of
view ; but surely nothing but pedantry or gross
affectation can dictate those complaints, which
are sometimes heard, of the modern graces of
our airs, and the deviations which have been
made from their native simplicity. One might
just as reasonably complain of the gradual re-
finement or civilization of a rude people.
Having thus explained the principles upon
which, it is conceived, the comparative anti-
quity of our different airs may be ascertained,
we shall next endeavour to give a view of the
opinions of the principal writers on this sub-
ject, and the amount of the positive informa-
tion which we have been able to collect re-
garding it.
It has been asserted, without the shadow of
proof or probability, that some of our finest me-
lodies were composed by Davib Rizzio ; and
the Editor of the Orpheus Caledonius takes it
upon him to mark The Lass of Patie's Mill,
Bessy Bell, The bush aboon Traquair, The
Bonny boatman, An thou Wert my ain thing,
Auld Rob Morris, and Down the burn, Davie,
as the composition of that Italian ! But the
assertion, as Ritson justly observes in his his-
torical Essay on Scottish Song, is a proof at
once of his ignorance and absurdity.
Dr Campbell, in his philosophical survey of
the south of Ireland, 1777, contends, that
" the honour of inventing the Scots music
" must be given to Ireland, the ancient Scotia ;
" from whence, he says, the present Scotia
" derived her name, her extraction, her lan-
" guage, her poetry." Ritson thinks this con-
jecture by no means improbable ; though, in
the same sentence, he admits, that " there ex-
u ists a sensible difference between the n^yc
14
DISSERTATION CONCERNING THE
" strains of Hibemia, and the peculiar melodies
" of the Lowland Scots, as well in the mourn-
" ful as in the festive strain." Some airs, in-
deed, are claimed by both countries ; but, by
means of the harpers or pipers, who used to
wander through the two, particular airs might
become so common to both, as to make it ques-
tionable which of the countries gave them birth.
Giraldus Cambrensis, who wrote in the 12th
century, and had visited France and Italy, af-
ter praising the instrumental music of the
Irish, as superior to that of any nation he had
ever seen, says, that Scotland endeavoured
with the greatest emulation to rival Ireland in
musical excellence, and that, in the opinion of
many, she even surpassed her mistress.
Whether it was the music of the Lowland
or Highland Scots to which the compliment of
Giraldus refers, is left to conjecture. Martin,
in his description of the Western Islands,
characterises the people of the isle of Skye as
having a great genius for music. He says,
" there are several of 'em who invent tunes
" very taking in the south of Scotland and else-
" where ;" adding, that " some musicians have
Cl endeavoured to pass for first inventors of
" them by changing their name ; but this has
" been impracticable : for whatever language
" gives the modern name, the tune still con-
" tinues to speak its true original ; and of this
" (says he) I have been shew'd several in-
" stances."—" It is to be wished," says Rit-
son, " that he had condescended to particula-
" rise, as the late publication of Highland airs
" affords no support, it is believed, to that hy-
41 pothesis." It certainly does not ; we have
examined that publication, (Macdonald's,) but
not a single air is to be found in it which is
popular or even known in the south of Scot-
land ; so that Martin's account is altogether
vague and unworthy of credit.
Dr Beattie, in his Essay on Poetry and Mu-
sic, observes, that the native melody of the
Highlands and Western Isles is as different
from that of the southern parts of the king-
dom, as the Irish or Erse language is different
from the English or Scotch. Of the Highland
music, he adds: " The wildest irregularity ap-
"• pears in its composition ; the expression is
" warlike and melancholy, and approaches even
" to the terrible j" while several of the old
Scotch Songs " are sweetly and powerfully
" expressive of love and tenderness, and other
" emotions suited to the tranquillity of a pas-
" toral life." And hence the Doctor gives it
as his opinion, that the music took its rise
among real shepherds, probably those who in-
habited the pastoral country adjoining the
Tweed and the other streams from which
many of the Songs took their names.
Of all who have inquired into this subject,
no one certainly has hitherto bestowed nearly
the same pains on the investigation as Mr
Ritson ; whose acutness and extensive read-
ing as an antiquary, enabled him easily to de-
tect, and successfully to expose, the inconsi-
derate assumptions and reasonings of less dili-
gent inquirers. The result of all his reading
and researches has led him to form an opinion
similar to that of Dr Beattie ; for, after stating
most of the theories and conjectures of former
writers, he adds : " After all, admitting the
" Irish origin of the Scottish music, it cannot
" be reasonably doubted, that many, if not most,
" or even all of the most celebrated and popu-
" lar Scottish melodies now extant, as distin-
" guish'd from the Highland airs, have actual-
" ly been composed by natives of the Low-
" lands, speaking and thinking in the English
" language ; by shepherds tending their flocks,
" or by maids milking their ewes ; by persons,
" in short, altogether uncultivated, or, if one
" may be allowed the expression, uncorrupted
" by art, and influenced only by the dictates of
" pure and simple nature."
Dr Franklin, in his Letter to Lord Kaimes
in the Encyclopaedia Britannica, is of opinion,
that the Scottish tunes were composed by the
Minstrels to be played on the harp, accompa-
nied by the voice. He says, " the harp was
" strung with wire, which gives a sound of
" long continuance ; and had no contrivance
" like that of the modern harpsichord, by which
" the sound of the preceding note can be stop-
" ped t he moment a succeeding note begins.
" To avoid actual discord, it was therefore ne-
NATIONAL MELODIES OF SCOTLAND.
15
" cessary that the succeeding emphatic note
" should be a chord with the preceding, as
" their sounds must exist at the same time.
" Hence arose the beauty in those tunes that
" has so long pleased and will please for ever,
" though men scarce know why. That they
" were originally composed for the harp, and
" of the most simple kind, I mean a harp with-
" out any half notes but those in the natural
" scale, and with no more than two octaves of
" strings from C to C, I conjectured from an-
" other circumstance, which is, that not one of
" these tunes, really ancient, has a single half
" note in it ; and that in tunes where it is most
" convenient for the voice to use the middle
" notes of the harp, and place the key in F,
" then the B, which, if used, should be a B
" flat, is always omitted, by passing over it with
" a third."
ft is evident, on considering this passage,
that Dr Franklin's supposition, that the old
airs were composed by performers on the
harp, is not borne out by his reasoning in
support of it. It has already been shewn,
that the omission of certain notes in the
scale of these airs is not peculiar to them, but
extends to national music in general ; a cir-
cumstance of which Dr Franklin does not seem
to have been at all aware. But, at any rate,
his theory is insufficient to account for the
fact. He admits, " that not one of those times,
" ren.Ily ancient, has a single half note in it,"
which is stating in effect, that both the fourth
and seventh of the scale are always omitted ;
while his theory accounts for the omission of
the fourth only ; and that only in some parti-
cular cases, namely, those in which the air
was not pitched upon the natural key of the in-
strument. What he says as to the necessity of
passing over certain notes, in order to produce
consonant sounds, has been shewn by other
writers to be destitute of foundation.
That Minstrels, who were generally harp-
ers, and sometimes sung with the instrument,
were formerly common in the Lowlands of Scot-
land, admits of no doubt : and that many of
our more regular melodies may have been
composed by them, is not improbable ; but that
our oldest simple melodies were the produc-
tions of an age anterior to the existence of per-
formers on the harp in the Lowlands, appears
beyond a doubt.
The Minstrels of the Lowlands were by no
means such a dignified class as the Bards of
the Highlands of Scotland, and of other coun-
tries. And here, perhaps, a brief digression re-
lative to an order of men who exercised so
much influence, and were treated with so much
distinction in the early ages, on account of
their poetical genius and musical talents, may
not be thought out of place, or unconnected
with our present inquiry.
The bards were the poets, the musicians, the
historians, and the heralds of ancient times.
They perpetuated, in their heroic odes, the
celebrity of their warriors and princes ; com-
posed those animating strains that led them to
emulate, in the day of battle, the valorous deeds
of their fathers ; and recorded in song their
triumphs or their fall. Their compositions hand-
ed down to a succeeding age some account of
the signal achievements and events they had
witnessed, though perhaps tinctured by pre-
judice, or coloured by fancy ; and, being given
in verse, were the more easily treasured up in
the memory of all who heard their recital : and
thus tradition preserved some knowledge of re-
markable occurrences, great actions, and na-
tional manners. The poems of Homer were
recited or sung in Greece for ages before any
prose history appeared. Diodorus Siculus h
the first author among the ancients who men-
tions the bards as the composers of verses,
which they sung to the sound of an instrument
not unlike a lyre, (1. 5. § 51.) And Au>
mianus Marcellinus tells us, that the bards
celebrated the brave actions of illustrious men
in heroic poems, which they sung to the sweet
sounds of the lyre, (1. 12. c. 9.) The account
given by these Greek and Latin writers is cor-
roborated by many parts of the poems of
Ossian : " Such were the words of the bards
" in the days of song; when the king heard
" the music of harps, the tales of other times !
" The chiefs gathered from aM their hills, and
« heard the lovely sound. They praised the
16
DISSERTATION CONCERNING THE
" voice of Cona! the first among a thousand
"bards!"
The earliest productions of the Welch bards
which have reached us, are those of Aneurin,
Lewarch-hen, and Taliesin, who lived in the
sixth century ; and if we may judge of their
merit by the translation of the Death of Hoel,
by Gray, it were to be wished that those re-
liques could find translators of equal talents.
The songs of the Ihish bards, says War-
ton, in his History of English Poetry, (Diss. I.
Vol. I.) are by some conceived to be strongly
marked with the traces of Scaldic imagination ;
and these traces are believed still to survive
among a species of poetical historians, whom
they call Tale-tellers, supposed to be the de-
scendants of the original Irish bards. The Irish
historians tell us that St Patrick, when he con-
verted Ireland ~.v the Christian faith, destroy-
ed 500 volume of the songs of the Irish bards.
Such was their dignity in that country, that they
were permitted to wear a robe of the same co-
lour with that of the royal family.
In the Highlands of Scotland, many com-
positions of their old bards are still preserved.
But the most valuable remains of these, and
among the noblest specimens of uncultivated
genius, are the poems of Ossian, a prince, a
poet, and a hero, who is supposed to have flou-
rished so early as the third or beginning of the
fourth century ; and who, (to use the words of
an elegant female writer) " sung the loves, the
" wars, the woes of his contemporary heroes,
" and arrayed them in such truth of character
" and beauty of diction, as cannot fail to at-
" tract and delight through every age." That
strong doubts have been entertained, and much
ingenious reasoning has been brought forward
to prove the non-existence of any such ancient
manuscripts, as those from which the poems
are said to have been translated, and that Dr
Johnson pronounced the whole a forgery, is
well known. There are few who believe that
the poems of Fingal and Temora originally ex-
isted as long connected narratives : — but, that
the subjects of them existed in the shape of
heroic ballads, fragments, and unconnected
pieces, which the poetical genius of Macpherson
prompted him to enlarge, and to unite by con-
necting links, seems to be the general and well
grounded conviction. Many persons in differ-
ent parts of the Highlands, (as we are assured
by all Highlanders,) used to recite parts of
those poems in the original Gaelic long before
Macpherson's translation was thought of. The
very respectable Lady above alluded to, who
passed the best part of her life in the center of
the Highlands, acquired the language of the
country, and personally knew and often con-
versed with the man that accompanied Mac-
pherson in his journey to the Western High-
lands and Islands in quest of the original po-
ems, has repeatedly assured the Editor, that
no person who lived in the country ever doubt-
ed the existence of the poems, generally speak-
ing ; and that every stream, mountain, song,
and tale, retained some traces of the generous
hero, or the mournful bard. But while she
gave the Translator the credit of always ren-
dering the sense of his original in a pleasing,
and frequently in a faithful manner, she allow-
ed, that on many occasions he had forfeited all
claim to the praise of literary integrity.
These poems, says Warton, notwithstanding
the difference between the Gothic and Celtic
rituals, contain many visible vestiges of Scan-
dinavian superstition. The allusion, in the
songs of Ossian, to Spirits who preside over the
different parts and direct the various operations
of nature, who send storms over the deep, and
rejoice in the shrieks of the shipwrecked mari-
ner,— who call down lightning to blast the fo-
rest or cleave the rock, and diffuse irresistible
pestilence among the people,— beautifully con»
ducted and heightened under the skilful hand
of a master bard, entirely correspond with the
Runic system, and breathe the spirit of its
poetry.
But to return to the Minstrels, whom Dr
Franklin supposes to have been the composers
of the Lowland Scottish melodies. These Min-
strels were in general not poets, but musicians,
though it must have occasionally happened, as
among the bards, that the two characters were
NATIONAL MELODIES OF SCOTLAND.
17
united. Mr Pinkerton tells us, that James III.
favoured the minstrels or musicians so highly,
as to permit them to equal knights and heralds
•in their apparel. And it appears, that a part
of the choristers at the chapel royal at Stirling
always attended that monarch, " to make him
" merry."* The most skilful of the minstrels
were probably retained in the halls of the great,
to enliven their festive hours ; and the rest
sought a livelihood by travelling over the coun-
try; but, in process of time, became so nume-
rous, degenerate, and intolerable, as to be clas-
sed with rogues and vagabonds, and interdict-
ed, by statutes and proclamations, from mo-
lesting the public. Dr Burney observes, that
" the first Greek musicians were gods ; the se-
" cond heroes ; the third bards ; the fourth
" beggars !" And although the Scottish min-
strels never could even dream of celestial ho-
nours, yet the fraternity in both countries un-
happily came at last to be on an equal footing, f-
The musical compositions of the Celtic
tribes, (we do not refer to the age of Ossian,)
■were chiefly marches, pibrochs, laments, &c.
complicated in their structure, and of a war-
like character ; while the Lowland music, on
the contrary, consisted of little simple melodies
of the most artless cast, adapted entirely to
express the feelings of individuals, — their hopes,
their loves, their joys, or their griefs. It has
already been shewn, that, from their conformity
to that scale which is natural to the human
voice in an uncultivated state, the greater part
of them must have originated at a period an- |
terior to the introduction of any tolerable in-
strumental music ; and, consequently, before
the existence of that class of men with whom
Dr Franklin supposes them to have originated.
While we, therefore, are very much inclined
to believe, with Mr Kitson and Dr Beattie,
that the Lowland melodies originated among
the pastoral inhabitants of the country ; yet,
we are also disposed to think, that many of the
more artificial and less ancient melodies may
have been produced by the minstrels or harp-
ers,— and thus far only can we agree with Dr
Franklin. It may be too much, perhaps, to
assign the honour to the shepherds and milk-
maids in the district of the Tweed, to the exclu-
sion of other classes and other districts ; yet it
must be confessed, that the names of a number
of the melodies and songs, such as Tweedside,
Braes of Yarrow, Ettrick banks, Broom of Cow-
denknows, Gala water, &c. give a fair colour for
the local preference. What a highly favoured
district, then, is that of the Tweed, and its tribu-
tary streams, if it produced our best ancient airs
and ballads; while, in our own day, it has given
birth to that mighty master of the lyre, whose
transcendant genius commands universal hom-
age wherever our language is known, from the
Tweed to the Orcades, and from the Missisippi
to the Ganges !
Before concluding, we shall advert to a few
particular Melodies which have been mention-
ed in publications of the 16th and 17th cen-
turies.
* Lindsay says, (Datyell's edition, Vol. I. p. 210.)
" Also he maid in the said chappel royal all kynd of office
" men, to wit, the Biscbope of Galloway, the Dean, and
" the Archdean, Thesaurer, Sub-deane, Chanter, and
" Stfbchanter, with all kyud of other officieris, pertaining
" ane colledge ; and also doubled them for that effect,
" that the one-half should ever be ready to sing and play
" with him, and hold him mirrie."
t It appears, from Bellenden's highly curious transla-
tion of Boece's Chronicles of Scotland, (reprinted in a
yei-y elegant manner, for W. & C. Tait, Edinburgh, 1821,
Buke lo. chap. 12.) that so early as the reign of Ken-
neth II. " who drew all the confusit laws of Scotland in
* ane compendia volumen,'' it was ordered, that * all va-
" gabondis, fulis, bardis, scudlaris, and all siclik idill
VOL. I.
" pepill, sal be brint on the cheik, and scurgit with wan-
" dis, bot (unless) they find sum craft to win thair lev-
" ing."
In the reign of Macbeth, too, the minstrels must have
been deemed very troublesome subjects ; for we find from
the same Chronicle, (Buke 12. chap, i.) in an enumera-
tion of a set of singularly curious " lawis maid by him for
" the commoun weil," the following enactment : " Fulis,
" menstralis, bardis, and al othir sic idil pepil, bot gif thay be
" specially licent be the king, sal be compellit to seik sum
" craft to win thair leving ; — gif thay refuse, they sal be
" drawin, like hors, in the pluch and harrowis." The
Chronicler adds, " Thir and siclik lawis war usit be
" King Makbeth : throw qnhilk he governit the realms
" x yeris in gud juitice '."
18
DISSERTATION CONCERNING THE
In the Preface to a small volume of Spiri-
tual Songs, called " The Saints' Recreation,"
published at Edinburgh in 1685, compiled by
Mr William Geddes, minister of the gos-
pel, we are told, that " grave and zealous
" Divines in the kingdom have composed god-
" ly Songs to the tunes of such old songs
" as these, — The bonny broom, — III never
" leave thee, — We'll all go pull the hadder ;
" and such like." Mr Geddes proceeds
to speak of the tunes as angelical, and, af-
ter reprobating the diabolical amorous sonnets
to which they were sung, suggests the proba-
bility of their having formerly been connected
with spiritual hymns and songs. There is a
singular little Work, which first appeared be-
fore the end of the 1 6th century, a new edition
of which was published by Andrew Hart, Edin-
burgh, in 1621, and re-published by A. Con-
stable, Edinburgh, in 1801, entitled, " Ane
" compendious Booke of Godly and Spirituall
" Songs, collectit out of sundrie partes of the
" Scripture, with sundrie of other Ballates,
" changed out of prophaine Sanges, for avoyd-
" ing of Sin and Harlotrie," &c. In this, we
find a number of puritanical rhapsodies, several
of which, from the first lines, and from the
measure in which they are written, seem ap-
plicable to particular Scottish tunes. One of
these Godly Songs begins in the very words of
a well known old Scottish one, viz.
Johne cum kis me now, The Lord thy God 1 am,
Johne cum kis me now, That Johne dois the call.
Johne cum kis me now, Johne represents man
And make no more adow. By grace celestiall.*
Another of the Godly Songs begins thus :
Hey now the day dallis, Now wealth on our wallis,
Now Christ on us callis, Appearis anone, &c.
This exactly suits the tune, Hey tutti taitt)
which used to be sung to words beginning,
" Landlady count the lawin, the day is near the
" </ai4'»7>." And there is every probability of
its being the same with The jolly day now
dawis, mentioned by Gawin Douglas in the
last prologue to his translation of Virgil, writ-
ten in 1513 ; and also by the poet Dunbar
who, addressing the merchants of Edinburgh,
says, —
Your common Menstrals hes no tone
But Now tlie day dawis — and Into Joun,
Thus, whatever may be thought of the tradi-
tion, that Hey tutti taiti was Robert Bruce's
march at the battle of Bannockburn in 1314,
it appears to be one of the oldest Scottish tunes
concerning which we have any written evi-
dence. There is a third Godly Song in the
same publication, beginning —
Till our Gudeman, till our Gudeman,
Keep faith and love till our Gudeman,
For our Gudeman in hevin does reigne,
In glore and bliss without ending," &c.
This is perfectly adapted to the well known
tune, called Ovr gudeman, or, The auld gude-
man ; it is probable, therefore, that the latter
was another of the popular Scottish tunes when
the Compendious Book was published.
There is a tradition, that John Anderson,
my jo — Maggie Lauder — Kind Robin loes me —
and some other favourite Scottish airs, were
originally attached to hymns in the Latin ser-
vice. But Mr Ritson shews the absurdity of
this idea : " No vestige, (says he) of any Scot-
" tish melody ever was, or ever will be found
" in the old Scottish Church-service, which did
" not, (for one of their service-books is pre-
" served,) and could not possibly, differ from
" that of other Catholic countries, and must
" therefore have consisted entirely of chant
" and counterpoint. We may, therefore, safe-
" ly conclude, that the Scottish Song owes no-
" thing to the Church-Music of the Cathedrals
" and Abbeys before the Reformation," &c.
The Orpheus Ca/edonius seems to have been
the earliest Collection in which the favourite
* The very same Air with " John come kiss me now," is
found among the Welch Melodies, under the name of " Pen
Rhaw, " as well as in an old M. S. collection of Music
called Queen Elizabeth's Virginal Book, with variations
by the celebrated Bird. It is very improbable, therefore,
that it is of Scottish origin, more particularly as it doe*
not conform to the Scottish scale.
NATIONAL MELODIES OP SCOTLAND.
19
Scottish Airs appeared in conjunction with the
Songs. It was published about the year 1725,
by W. Thomson, London, who republished it,
and added a second volume, in 1755.
The Tea-table Miscellany, published by the
celebrated Allan Ramsay, in 1724, was the
first general Collection in which the admired
Scottish Songs appeared without the Airs,
though the poet had brought forward a smaller
publication of the Songs some years before. In
a separate Work, consisting of six very small
books, he also published about 70 of the Airs,
•with a bass to each. To Ramsay's book, the
publisher of the Orpheus Caledonius, as well
as every succeeding publisher, has been par-
ticularly obliged, — most of the Songs which
have so long been favourites, being found in
the Miscellany. These were chiefly written
by Ramsay and his friends for such Scottish
Airs as they thought ill-suited with words, —
Airs of which he says in his preface, — " What
" further adds to the esteem we have for them,
" is, their antiquity, and their being univer-
" sally known."
Some of the best Songs in the Miscellany,
such as, The Gaberlurvzie Man; Muirland
Willie ; Nancy'' s to the Greenwood gane ; My
Jo, Janet; Talc1 your auld. cloak about ye;
Waly Waly, Sfc. were collected by Ramsay ; and,
but for him, it is probable, that these admira-
ble specimens of ancient song would have been
irretrievable. When, or by whom, these were
written, is unknown : tradition indeed gives the
Gaberlunzie Man to James V., and says it was
written upon an adventure of his own, he being
noted for his gallantries while strolling about
his dominions in disguise •, and his celebrated
poem of Christ's Kirk on the Green no doubt
gives probability to the tradition respecting
the song. An English version of the song
" Tak' your auld cloak about ye," was recover-
ed by Dr Percy, and published in his Reliques
of Ancient Poetry : and as a stanza of it, be-
ginning " King Stephen was a worthy peer,"
is introduced by Shakespeare in the drinking
scene in Othello, and as the air is not marked
with the Scottish stamp, it seems somewhat
doubtful whether we have an exclusive claim
either to the air or the words. The much
admired song, set to the Flowers of the Forest,
beginning, "Vve heard o' lilting" written on
the battle of Flodden, though it has been sup-
posed a production of that remote period, is
said to have been written about the year 1755,
by a sister of Sir Gilbert Elliot of Minto.
It only remains to be mentioned, that the
results of the investigation which has now been
attempted, as applied to the whole Airs, will
be found in the index ; where a mark will be
affixed to each Air, indicating, according to the
principles already stated, that it is either of
the most ancient class, — or of a more recent
era, when music was cultivated as an art, —
or a modern production, — or an English imi-
tation.
In conclusion, we beg it may be understood
that we are far from thinking that the attempt
now made may not be very imperfect, notwith-
standing the great pains bestowed on it, and
our anxiety to render this Dissertation as in-
telligible and complete as our narrow limits
would permit. The subject is interesting and
of some importance, in so far as importance can
be said to belong to subjects of this nature :
and we shall be glad if what we have done,
should incite some more able and learned en-
quirer to prosecute the investigation.
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THE BIRKS OF INVERMAY.
THE SONG BY MALLET.
_L he smiling morn, the breathing spring,
Invite the tuneful birds to sing ;
And while they warble from each spray,
Love melts the universal lay :
Let us, Amanda, timely wise,
Like them improve the hour that flies,
And in soft raptures waste the day,
Among the birks of Invermay.
For soon the winter of the year,
And age, life's winter, will appear :
At this thy lively bloom will fade,
As that will strip the verdant shade :
Our taste of pleasure then is o'er,
- The feather'd songsters please no more :
And when they droop, and we decay,
Adieu the birks of Invermay !
II
SONG FOR THE SAME AIR.
BY R. B. SHERIDAN, ESQ.
How oft, Louisa, hast thou said,
(Nor wilt thou the fond boast disown,)
Thou wou'dst not lose Antonio's love,
To reign the partner of a throne !
And by those lips that spoke so kind,
And by that hand I've pressed to mine,
To be the lord of wealth and power,
By heav'ns, I would not part with thine.
Then how, my soul, can we be poor,
Who own what kingdoms could not buy
Of this true heart thou shalt be queen,
And, serving thee, — a monarch I.
Thus, uncontroll'd, in mutual bliss,
And rich in love's exhaustless mine,
Do thou snatch treasures from my lips,
And I'll take kingdoms back from thine !
VOL. I. ■*■
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2
HERE AWA', THERE AWA\
WRITTEN FOE THIS WORK
BY BURNS.
.Here awa', there awa', wandering Willie,
Here awa', there awa', haud awa' hame ;
Come to my bosom, my ain only deary,
Tell me thou bring'st me my Willie the same.
Winter winds blew, loud and cauld, at our parting,
Fears for my Willie brought tears in my e'e j
Welcome now Simmer, and welcome my Willie ;
The Simmer to Nature, my Willie to me.
Rest, ye wild storms, in the cave of your slumbers,
How 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 na his Nanie,
Flow still between us, thou wide-roaring main :
May I never see it, may I never trow it,
But, dying, believe that my Willie's my ain !
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TWEEDSIDE.
THE SONG BY ROBT. CRAWFORD, ESQ.
OF THE AUCHNAMES FAMILY.
Burns mentions that the heroine of this song was Mary Stewart
of the Castlemilk family, afterwards Mrs John Ritchie ; —
while Sir Walter Scott, in his Notes to Canto II. of Mar-
mion, says, that the song was written in honour of Mary Li lias
Scott of the Harden family, the second flower of Yarrow. Sir
Walter adds, that " he well remembers the talent and spirit
" of the latter flower of Yarrow, though age had then injured
" the charms which procured her the name."
What beauties does Flora disclose ?
How sweet are her smiles upon Tweed ?
Yet Mary's, still sweeter than those,
Both Nature and Fancy exceed.
No daisy, nor sweet blushing rose,
Not all the gay flowers of the field,
Nor Tweed gliding gently through those,
Such beauty and pleasure can yield.
The warblers are heard in each grove,
The linnet, the lark, and the thrush,
The black-bird, and sweet cooing dove,
With music enchant ev'ry bush.
Come, let us go forth to the mead,
Let us see how the primroses spring ;
We'll lodge in some village on Tweed,
And love while the feather'd folks sing.
How does my love pass the long day ?
Does Mary not tend a few sheep ?
Do they never carelessly stray,
While happily she lies asleep ?
Tweed's murmurs should lull her to rest,
Kind Nature indulging my bliss ;
To relieve the soft pains of my breast,
I'd steal an ambrosial kiss,
'Tis she does the virgins excel,
No beauty with her can compare ;
Love's graces around her do dwell,
She's fairest where thousands are fair.
Say, charmer, where do thy flocks stray ?
Oh ! teli me at noon where they feed :
Shall I seek them on sweet-winding Tay ?
Or the pleasanter banks of the Tweed ?
&S3S SOBR OSB
4
MY NANIE, 0\
WRITTEN
BY BURNS.
The beroiue of this beautiful song was Miss Fleming, whose
father was a farmer in the parish of Tarbolton, Ayrshire.
JJKHiND yon hills where Lugar flows,
'Mang muirs, and mosses many, O,
The wint'ry sun the day has clos'd ;
And I'll awa to Nanie, O.
Tho' westlin winds blaw loud and shill,
And its baith mirk and rainy, O ;
T'll get my plaid, and out I'll steal,
And o'er the hill to Nanie, O.
My Name's charming, sweet, and younfi' ;
Nae artfu' wiles to win ye, O :
May ill befa' the flattering tongue
That wad beguile my Nanie, O.
Her face is fair, her heart is true,
As spotless as she's bonie, O ;
The op'ning gowan, wet wi' dew,
Nae purer is than Nanie, O.
A country lad is my degree,
And few there be that ken me, O ;
But what care I how few they be,
I'm welcome ay to Nanie, O.
My riches a' 's my penny fee,
Atid I maun guide it cannie, O ;
But warld's gear ne'er troubles me,
My thoughts are a', my Nanie, O.
Our auld guidman delights to view
His sheep and kye thrive bonie, O j
But I'm as blythe that bauds his pleugh,
And has nae care but Nanie, O.
Come well, come woe, I carena by,
I'll tak' what Heav'n will send me, O ;
Nae ither care in life have I,
But live, and love my Nanie, O.
9
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TLL NEVER LEAVE THEE.
THE SONG BY ROBERT CRAWFORD, ESQ.
There is an incongruity in coupling a Greek with a Scottish name ;
and the Editor has sometimes heard Montgom'ry substituted
for Adonis in this song. The critical reader, it is hoped, will
excuse the omission of a stanza of the song.
One day I heard Mary say,
How shall I leave thee ?
Stay, dearest Adonis, stay,
Why wilt thou grieve me ?
Alas ! my fond heart will break,
If thou should'st leave me ;
I'll live and die fox thy sake,
Yet never leave thee.
Say, lovely Adonis, say,
Has Mary deceiv'd thee ?
Did e'er her young heart betray
New love that's griev'd thee ?
My constant mind ne'er shall stray,
Thou may'st believe me ;
Such true love can ne'er decay,
Never deceive thee.
But leave thee, leave thee, lad,
How shall I leave thee !
O ! that thought makes me sad,.
I'll never leave thee.
Where would my Adonis fly ?
Why does he grieve me !
Alas ! my poor heart will die,
If he should leave me !
VOL. I. E
CORN RIGGS.
THE SOIfG '
BT ALLAN RAMSAY.
JM? Patie is a lover gay,
His mind is never muddy,
His breath is sweeter than new hay,
His face is fair and ruddy :
His shape is handsome, middle size, ,
He's stately in his walking :
The shining of his een surprise :
'Tis heaven to hear him talking.
Last night I met him on a bawk,
Where yellow corn was growing,
There mony a kindly word he spake,
That set my heart a-glowing.
He kiss'd and vow'd he wou'd be mine.
And lo'ed me best of ony :
That gars me like to sing sinsyne,
" O corn riggs are bonny."
COME, DEAR AMANDA, QUIT THE TOWN.
FOR THE SAME AIR.
Oome, dear Amanda, quit the town,
And to the rural hamlets fly j*
Behold, the wintry storms are gone,
A gentle radiance glads the sky :
The birds awake, the flow'rs appear ;
Earth spreads a verdant couch for thee •,
'Tis joy and music all we hear !
'Tis love and beauty all we see!
Come, let us mark the gradual spring,
How peep the buds, the blossom blows,
'Till Philomel begins to sing,
And perfect May to spread the rose.
Let us secure the short delight,
And wisely crop the blooming day :
For scon, too soon, it will be night !
Arise,' my love, and come away !
* Although the 2d, 4th, Gth, and 8th lines o£ this Song are each
a syllable longer than the corresponding lines of the Scottish verses,
they are more exactly suited to the Air, which requires lines of
eight syllables each.
6.
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Vol: 1. * Take either (lie u]'|>. r or under notes
THE BUSH ABOON TRAQUAIR.
THE SONG
BY ROBERT CRAWFORD, ESQ.
XJ.EA.il me, ye nymphs, and ev'ry swain,
I'll tell how Peggy grieves me ;
Though thus I languish, thus complain,
Alas ! she ne'er believes me.
My vows and sighs, like silent air,
Unheeded, never move her ;
At the bonny bush aboon Traquair,
'Twas there I first did love her.
That day she smiled and made me glad,
No maid seem'd ever kinder :
I thought myself the luckiest lad,
So sweetly there to find her.
I tried to soothe my am'rous flame,
In words that I thought tender :
In nought that pass'd was I to blame,
I meant not to offend her.
Yet now she scornful flies the plain,
The fields we then frequented :
If e'er we meet, she shews disdain,
She looks as ne'er acquainted.
The bonny bush bloomed fair in May,
It's sweets I'll ay remember :
But now her frowns make it decay,
It fades as in December.
Ye rural Powers, who hear my strains,
Why thus should Peggy grieve me ?
Oh ! make her partner in my pains,
Then let her smiles relieve me.
• If not, my love, will turn despair,
My passion no more tender ;
I'll leave the bush aboon Traquair,
To lonely wilds I'll wander !
When Burns visited this far-famed bo*h in 1787, it consisted «f
eight or nine ragged birches. The Eadof TttAQCAia has planted'
a dump of trees near it, which he calls " The New Bush."
8
THE EWE-BUGHTS.*
*
Will ye go to the ewe bughts, Marion,
And wear in the sheep wi' me ?
The sun shines sweet, my Marion,
But nae half sae sweet as thee. The sun, SfC,
O Marion's a bonny lassie,
The blythe blink's in her e'e j
And fain wad I marry Marion,
Gin Marion wad marry me. And Jain, fyc.
I've nine milk-ewes, my Marion,
A cow and a brawney quey j
I'll gi'~ them a' to my Marion
Upon her bridal-day. Ill gie, S(C.
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And ye's get a green say apron,
And waistcoat o' London brown ;
And wow but ye will be vap'ring
Whene'er ye gang to the town. And wow, fyc.
^Vfc ***
I'm young and stout, my Marion,
Nane dances like me on the green;
And gin ye foresake me, Marion,
I'll e'en draw up wi' Jean. And gin, Sfc.
* Though this beautiful old Air is commonly reckoned a production of the south of Scotland, Burns doubts whether
it may not be a northern composition, because there is a Song, apparently as ancient as " Evve-bughts, Marion," which
is sung to the same Air, and is evidently of the north ; it begins thus :
" The Lord o' Gordon had three daughters,
f Mary, Margaret, and Jean,
" They wadna stay at bonie Castle-Gordon,
" But awa' to Aberdeen."
The following Song was a juvenile production of the Poet, who, when he transmitted it to the Editor, wrote thus of it :
" In iny very early years, when I was thinking of going to the West Indies, I took the following farewell of a dear
" girl ; it is quite trifling, and has nothing of the merit of the Ewe-Bughts. You must know that all my earlier love-
" songs were the breathings of ardent passion ; and though it might have been easy in after-times to have given them
•' a polish, yet that polish to me would have defaced the legend of my heart, which was so faithfully inscribed in them.
" Their uncouth simplicity was, as they say of wines, their race."
WILL YE GO TO THE INDIES, MY MARY.
BY BURNS. «
1
THE SAME AIR.
Will ye go to the Indies, my Mary,
And leave auld Scotia's shore ?
Will ye go to the Indies, my Mary,
Across th' Atlantic's roar!
0 sweet grows the lime and the orange,
And the apple on the pine ;
But a' the charms o' the Indies,
Can never equal thine.
1 hae sworn by the Heavens to my Mary,
1 hae sworn by the Heavens to be true j
And sae may the Heavens forget me,
When I forget my vow !
O plight me your faith, my Mary,
And plight me your lily-white hand ;
0 plight me your faith, my Mary,
Before I leave Scotia's strand.
We hae plighted our troth, my Mary,
In mutual affection to join ;
And curst be the cause that shall part us!
The hour, and the moment o' time !
8
THE EWE-JBITGHTS '.
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FAREWELL TO LOCHABER,
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THE SONG
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BY ALLAN RAMSAY.
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-fc arewell to Lochaber, farewell to my Jean,
Where heartsome with thee I have mony day been ;
For Lochaber no more, Lochaber no more,
We'll may-be return to Lochaber no more.
These tears that I shed they are_a' for my dear,
And not for the dangers attending on weir ;
Tho' bore on rough seas to a far bloody shore,
May-be to return to Lochaber no more.
•••^ • ■»*»
Tho' hurricanes rise, and raise every wind,
They'll ne'er make a tempest like that in my mind ;
Iho' loudest of thunder on louder waves roar,
That's naething like leaving my Love on the shore.
To leave thee behind me my heart is sair pained ;
But by ease that's inglorious no fame can be gained ;
And beauty and love's the reward of the brave,
And I maun deserve it before I can crave.
« ?^**
Then glory, my Jeany, maun plead my excuse ;
Since honour commands me, how can I refuse ?
Without it, I ne'er can have merit for thee,
And losing thy favour I'd better not be.
I gae then, my lass, to win honour and fame,
And if I should chance to come gloriously hamc,.
Till L ■ . 1 t i _ .1 _ _r..i 1 _• _!_„
I'll bring a heart to thee with love running o'er,
And then I'll leave thee and Lochaber no more.
VOL. I.
)
• • *
*•*-♦
• • * « ' ; t t
10
MY APRON DEARTE.
THE SONG
BY SIR GILBERT ELLIOT.
JVIy sheep I neglected, I lost my sheep-hook,
And all the gay haunts of my youth I forsook,
No more for Aminta fresh garlands I wove ;
For ambition, I said, would soon cure me of love.
O ! what had my youth with ambition to do ?
Why left I Aminta, why broke I my vow?
O ! give me my sheep, and my sheep-hook restore,
I'll wander from love and Aminta no more.
I
Through regions remote in vain do I rove,
And bid the wide ocean secure me from love :
O fool! to imagine that aught cau subdue,
A love so well founded, a passion so true.
O ! what had my youth with ambition to do ?
• * * •* .
Why left 1 Aminta, why broke I my vow ?
O ! give me my sheep, and my sheep-hook restore,
I'll wander from love and Aminta no more.
Alas ! 'tis too late at thy fate to repine :—
Poor shepherd, Aminta no more can be thine:
Thy tears are all fruitless, thy wishes are vain,
The moments neglected return not again !
O ! what had my youth with ambition to do ?
Why left I Aminta, why broke I my vow ?
O ! give me my sheep, and my sheep-hook restore,
I'll wander from love and Aminta no more.
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II
GALLA WATER.
WRITTEN FOB THIS WORK
BY BURNS.
X
Braw braw lads on Yarrow braes,
Ye wander through the blooming heather ;
But Yarrow braes, nor Ettrick shaws,
Can match the lads o' Galla water.
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But there is ane, a secret ane,
Aboon them a' I lo'e him'better ;
And I'll be his, and he'll be mine,
The bonnie lad o' Galla water.
Altho' his daddie was nae laird,
And tho' I hae nae meikle tocher,
Yet rich in kindest, truest love,
We'll tent our flocks by Galla water.
It ne'er was wealth, it ne'er was wealth,
That coft contentment, peace, or pleasure ;
The bands and bliss o' mutual love,
O that's the chiefest warld's treasure.
12
THE BRAES OF YARROW.
BY WILLIAM HAMILTON, ESQ. OF BANGOUR.
A. Xjusk ye, busk ye, my bonny bonny bride ;
Busk ye, busk ye, ray winsome marrow ;
Husk ye, busk ye, my bonny bonny bade,
And think nae mail' on the braes of Yarrow.
H. Where gat ye that bonny bonny bride ?
Where gat ye that winsome marrow ?
A. I gat her where I dare nae weil be seen,
Puing the bilks on the braes of Yarrow.
Weep not, weep not, my bonny bonny bride ;
Weep not, weep not, ray winsome marrow,
Nor let thy heart lament to leave
Puing the birks on the braes of Yarrow :
B. Why does she weep, thy bonny bonny bride ?
Why does she weep, thy winsome marrow ?
And why dare ye nae mair weil be seen,
Puing the birks on the braes of Yarrow ?
A. Lang maun she weep, lang maun she, maun she weep,
Lang maun she weep with dule and sorrow ;
And lang maun 1 nae mair weil be seen
Puing the birks on the braes of Yarrow ;
For she has tint hir luver luver dear,
Her luver dear, the cause of sorrow ;
And I hae slain the comeliest swain
That e'er pu'd birks on the braes of Yarrow.
Why runs thy stream, O Yarrow, Yarrow, red ?
Why on thy braes heard the voice of sorrow ?
And why yon melancboK ous weeds,
Hung on the bonny birks of Yarrow ?
What yonder floats on the rueful, rueful stream ?
What yonder floats ? O duie and sorrow I
Tis he, the comely swain 1 slew
Upon the doleful braes of Yarrow !
Wash, O wash his wounds, his wounds in tears,
His wounds in tears, with dule and sorrow ;
And wrap his limbs in mourning weeds,
And lay him on the braes of Yarrow.
Then build, then build, ye sisters, sisters sad,
Ye sisters sad, his tomb with sorrow ;
And weep around in w aeful wise
His hapless fate on the braes of Yarrow.
Curse ye, curse )e. his useless, useless shield,
My arm that wrought the deid of sorrow,
The fatal spear that pierc'd bis breast,
His comely bre»st on the braes of Yarrow.
Hid 1 not warn thee not to lue,
And warn from fight ? But to my sorrow,
O'er rashly bald, a stronger arm
Thou raet'st, and fell on the braes of Yarrow.
Sweet smells tlie bilk, green grows, green grows the grass,
Yellow on Yarrow's banks the gowan,
Fair hangs the apple frae the rock,
Sweet the wave of Yarrow llowan.
Flows Yarrow sweet ? as sweet, as sweet flows Tweed,
As green its grass, its gowan yellow,
As sweet smells on its braes the birk,
The apple frae the rock as mellow.
Fair was thy Luve, fair fair indeed thy Luve,
In flow'ry bands thou him didst fetter; .
Tho' he was fair ar>d well beluv'd again,
Than me he never lued thee better.
Busk ye, then busk, my bonny bonny bride,
Busk ye, busk ye, my winsome marrow,
Busk ye, and lue me on the banks of Tweed,
And think nae mair on the braes of Yarrow.
C. How can 1 busk a bonny bonny bride ?
How can I busk a winsome marrow ?
How lue him on the banks of Tweed,
That slew my Luve on the braes of Yarrow ?
O Yarrow fields, may never never rain,
No dew thy tender blossoms cover ;
For there was basely slain my luve,
My Luve, as he had not been a luver.
The boy put on his robes, his robes of green,
His purple vest, 'twas my ain sewing '.
Ah '. wretched me ! I little little kend
He was in these to meet his ruin.
The boy look out his milk-white milk-white steed
Unheedful of my dule and sonow :
But ere the toofal of the night,
He lay a corpse on the braes of Yarrow.
Much I rejoie'd that waeful, waeful day,.
I sang, my voice the woods returning :
But lang ere night the spear was flown
That slew my Luve and left me mourning.
AVbat can my barbarous, barbarous father do,
But with his cruel rage pursue me ?
My lover's blood is on thy spear,
How canst thou, barbarous man, then woo me ?
My happy sisters may be, may be proud;
With cruel and ungentle scoffing,
May bid me seek on Yarrow braes
My lover nailed in his coffin.
My brother Douglas may upbraid,
And strive with threat'niug words to move me.
My luver's blood is on thy spear,
How can'st thou ever bid me luve thee ?
Yes, yes, prepare the bed, the bed of luve I
With bridal sheets my body cover ;
Unbar, ye bridal maids, the door,
Let in the expected husband luver.
But who the expected husband, husband is ?
Ilis hands, niethisks, are bath'd in slaughter :
Ah me '. what gastly spectre's yon
Conies in his pale shroud bleeding after ?
Pale as he is, here lay him, lay him down,
O '■ lay his cold head on my pillow :
Tak' all", tak' all' these bridal weids,
And crown my careful head with willow.
Pale tho' thou art, yet best, yet best beluv'd,
O could my warmth to life restore thee '.
Ye'd lie all night between my breasts,
No youth lay ever there before thee.
Pale, pale indeed, O luvely luvely youth,
Forgive, forgive, so foul a slaughter '.
And lie all night between my breasts,
No youth shall ever lie there after.
A. Belurn, return, O mournful mournful bride,
Beturn, and dry thy useless sorrow ;
Tliy luver heeds nought of thy sighs,
He lies a corpse on the braes of Yarrow.
12.
THE jBHABS Of Jg<ROW.
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Vol:!.
13
THE YELLOW HAIR'D LADDIE.
THE SONG
BY ALLAN RAMSAY.
In April, when primroses paint the sweet plain,
And summer approaching rejoiceth the swain ;
The Yellow»hair'd Laddie would oftentimes go
To wilds and deep glens, where the hawthorn trees grow.
There, under the shade of an old sacred thorn,
With freedom he sung his loves ev'ning and morn ;
He sung with so soft and enchanting a sound,
That Sylvans and Fairies unseen danc'd around.
The shepherd thus sung : — Though )'oung Madie be fair,
Her beauty is dash'd with a scornful proud air ;
But Susie is handsome and sweetly can sing,
Her breath's like the breezes perfum'd in the spring :
That Madie, in all the gay bloom of her youth,
Like the moon is inconstant, and never spoke truth j
But Susie is faithful, good-humour'd, and free,
And fair as the goddess who sprung from the sea.
That mama's fine daughter, with all her great dow'r,
Was aukwardly airy, and frequently sour ;
Then, sighing, he wished, would parents agree,
The witty sweet Susie his mistress might be.
voi* r.
u
ROSLIN CASTLE.
THE SONG BY RICHARD HEWIT.
The Author of this beautiful Song, when a boy, during the resi-
dence of Dr Blacklock in Cumberland, was employed in
leading him, and for some years acted as his amanuensis.
X was in that season of the year,
When all things gay and sweet appear,
That Colin, with the morning ray,
Arose and sung his rural lay :
Of Nanny's charms the shepherd sung,
The hills and dales with Nanny rung,
While Roslin castle heard the swain,
And echo'd back the cheerful strain.
Awake, sweet Muse, the breathing spring
With rapture warms, awake and sing ;
Awake and join the vocal throng,
And hail the morning with a song :
To Nanny raise the cheerful lay,
O bid her haste and come away ;
In sweetest smiles herself adorn,
And add new graces to the morn.
O hark, my love, on every spray
Each feather'd warbler tunes his lay ;
'Tis beauty fires theravish'd throng,
And love inspires the melting song :
Then let my ravish'd notes arise,
For beauty darts from Nanny's eyes,
• And love my rising bosom warms,
And fills my soul with sweet alarms.
O come, my Love, thy Colin's lay
With rapture calls, O come away ;
. jj_-«- Come, while the Muse this wreath shall twine
Around that modest brow of thine ;
O hither haste, and with thee bring
That beauty blooming like the spring,
Those graces that divinely shine,
And charm this ravish'd heart of mine.
14,
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From thee, E LI ZA, I must go, And from my na_tive shore: The
4
cru_el fates be tween us throw A boundless o cean's roar: But
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Vol: l.
15
z t
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DONALD.
THE SONG
Br burns.
• • »
• • • »
The heroine of this Song was Miss Milleu, afterwards Mrs
Temeleton, Mauchline.
Fkom thee, Eliza, I must go,
And from my native shore :
The cruel fates between us throw
A boundless ocean's roar ;
But boundless oceans, roaring wide,
Between my Love and me,
They never never can divide
My heart and soul from thee.
Farewell, farewell, Eliza dear,
The maid that I adore !
A boding voice is in mine ear,
We part to meet no more !
But the last throb that leaves my heart,
While Death stands victor by,
That throb, Eliza, is thy part,
And thine that latest sigh !
t t * J |
• ■•
16
THE WAEFU' HEART.
Gin living worth could win my heart,
You wou'd na speak in vain ;
But in the darksome grave it's laid,
Ne'er ne'er to rise again.
My waefu' heart lies low wi' his,
Whose heart was only mine j
And oh ! what a, heart was that to lose '
But I maun no repine.
Yet oh ! gin heav'n in mercy soon,
Would grant the boon I crave,
And tak' this life, now naething worth,
Sin' Jamie's in his grave.
And see his gentle spirit comes
To shew me on my way,
Surpris'd, nae doubt, I still am here,
Sair wond'ring at my stay !
I come, I come, my Jamie dear,
And oh ! wi' what gude will !
I follow, wheresoe'er ye lead,
Ye canna lead to ill.
She said, and soon a deadlie pale
Her faded cheek possest ;
Her waefu' heart forgot to beat,
Her sorrows sunk to rest!
16
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Vol: 1.
17.
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ATJ^U BOB JSOBBZS'.
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There's auld ROB Morris, that wons in yon glen, He's the king of gude
There's auld Rob MORRIS, that wons in yon glen, He'sthe king- of gude
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17
AULD ROB MORRIS.
WRITTEN FOB THIS WOBK
1
BY BURNS.
-I- here's auld Rob Morris, that wons in yon glen,
He's the king of glide fellows, and wale of auld men-,
He has gowd in his coffers, he has sheep, he lias kine,
And ae bonny lassie, his darling and mine.
She's fresh as the morning, the fairest in May,
She's sweet as the ev'uing amang the new hay ;
As blythe and as artless as the lambs on the lea,
And dear to my heart as the light to my e'e.
Bat oh, she's an heiress, auld Robin's a laird,
And my daddie has nought but a cot-house and yard :
A wooer like me maunna hope to come speed ;
The wounds I maun hide which will soon be my dead.
The day comes to me, but delight brings me nane :
The night comes to me, but my rest it is gane ;
I wander my lane, like a night-troubled ghaist,
And I sigh as my heart it wou'd burst in my breast.
0 had she but been of a lower degree,
1 then might hae hoped she wou'd smiled upon me !
O, how past descriving had then been my bliss,
As now my distraction no words can express !
vol. i. E
*"»-^
18
GILDEHOY.
Ah '. Culoris, could I now but sit,
As unconcernM as when
Tour infant beauty could beget
Nor happiness nor pain.
When I this dawning did admire,
And praised the coming day,
I li'.tle thought that rising fire,
Would take my rest away.
Your charms in harmless childhood lay
As metals in a mine :
Age from no face takes more away,
Than youth eonceal'd in thine.
But as your charms insensibly
To their perfection prest ;
So love as unperceiv'd did fly,
And center'd in my breast.
My passion with your beauty grew,
While Cupid, at my heart,
Still as his mother favour'd you,
Threw a new flaming dart
Each gloried in their wanton part ;
To make a beauty, she
Employ'd the utmost of her art ;
To make a lover, he.
THE OLD SONG OF GILDEROY.
[The Hero of this elegant Lamentation was a celebrated Highland Freebooter, who was executed at Edinburgh.]
vtildehoy was a bonny boy,
Had ro es till his shoon ;
His stockings were of silken soy,
Wi' garters hanging doun.
It was, 1 ween, a comely sight
To see sae trim a boy ;
He was my joy and heart's delight,
My handsome Gilderoy.
O sic twa charming een be had !
Breath sweet as ony rose ;
He never wore a highland plaid,
But costly silken clothes.
He gain"d the luve of ladies gay,
Nane e'er to him was coy :
Ah. wae is me '. I mourn the day
For my dear Gilderoy.
My Gilderoy and 1 were born
btaith in ae toun thegither ;
We scant were seven years beforn
We gan to love ilk ither :
Our daddies and our mammies they
Were fill'd wi' meikle joy,
To think upon the bridal day
Of me and Gilderoy.
For Gilderoy, that Luve of mine,
Gude failb I freely bought
A wedding sark of Holland fine,
Wi' dainty luffles wrought:
And he gied me a wedding ring.
Which I receiv'd wi' joy :
Nae lad nor lassie e'er could sing
Like ine and Gilderoy.
Wi' meikle joy we spent our prime,
Till we were baith sixteen,
Aud aft we past thclangsume time
dmang the leaves sae gncn :
Aft on the banks we'd sit us there,
Aud sweetly kiss and tov ;
While he wi' garlands deck'd my hair,
My handsome Gilderoy.
Oh that he still had been coutent
Wi' me to lead his life !
Hut ah ! his manfu' heart was bent
To stir in feats of strife.
And he in many a vent'rous deed
His courage bauld wad try ;
And this now gars my heart to bleed
For my dear Gilderoy '.
And when of me his leave he tuik,
The tears they wat my e'e ;
I gied him sic a parting luik '.
' My benison gang wi' thee !
' God speed thee weel, mine ain dear heart,
' For gane is all my joy ;
' My heart is rent sitb we maun part,
• My handsome Gilderoy!'
My Gilderoy, baith far and near.
Was fear'd in ev'ry toun;
And baldly bare awa' the geir
Of mony a lawland loun.
For man to man durst meet him nane,
He was sae brave a boy ;
At length wi' numbers he was tanc,
My winsome Gilderoy.
Wae worth the louns that made the laws
To hang a man for gear ;
To reave of life for sic a canse
As stealing horse or mare '.
Had not their laws been made sae thick,
1 ne'er had lost my joy ;
Wi' sorrow ne'er had wet my cheek
For my dear Gilderoy !
Gif Gilderoy had done amiss,
He might hae banishtbeen ; —
Ah, what sair cruelty is this,
To hang sic handsome men '.
To hang the flower o' Scottish land,
Sae sweet and fair a boy : —
Nae lady had sae white a hand
As thee, uiy Gilderoy.
Of Gilderoy sae fear'd they were,
Wi' irons his limbs they strung ;
To Edinborow led him there,
And on a gallows hung.
They hung him high aboon the rest,
He was sae bauld a hoy ;
There died the youth whom I lued best,
My handsome Gilderoy '.
Sune as he yielded up his breath
I bare his corse away,
Wi' tears that trickled for his death
I wash'd his comlie clay ;
And sicker in a grave right deep
( laid the dear lued boy:
And now for ever 1 maun weep
My winsome Gilderoy.
&IZ,Z>EROY.
Pleyel .
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Ali! CHLOKIS, could I now but sit, As un_concern'd as when
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Vol: 1
19.
WZLY JML.Y
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wa ly Try von burn — side, Where I and nry love wont to g'ae.
I leant my back un_to an aik, I thought it was a trusty tree$ But
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first it bow'd and syne it brake, And sae did my true love to me
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20
First PuMishU in 1822.
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O Waly, Wa_ly love is horny, A little time when it is new; But
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my tint Love has me for sook, And says he'll nev er lo'e me mair.
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my true Love has me for_sook, And says he'll nev er lo'e me mair.
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Vol: 1.
3. Stanza.
Now Arthur— seat shall he my bed,
The sheets shall ne'er be warm'd by me;
Saint Anton's well shall be my drink,
Since my true Love's forsaken me.
0 Mart'ma.s wind ! when wilt thou blaw,
And shake the green leaves aff the tree;
() gentle Dtath when wilt thou come,
And take a life that wearies me .
ANON.
21
With new Sym! & Accl by Hummel 182g.
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I could range the world a-round For the sake of Some _ bo-dv.
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Vol.l.
2d Stanza.
Ye Powers that smile on virtuous lo-se,
O sweetly smile on Somebody;
From eVrv danger keep him free,
And send me safe my Somebody.
Oh! hey for Somebody,
Oh! dear for Somebody,
I wnu'd do what wnu'd I not
For the sake of Somebody .
Burns .
22
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Vol : 1 .
2d Stanza.
Bonny wee thing, canny wee thing,
Lovely wee thing, wert thou mine;
I would wear thee in my bosom,
Lest my jewel I should tine.
Wit, and grace, and love, and heauty,
In one constellation shine;
To adore thee is mv duty.
Goddess of this soul of mine.
Burn-
23
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Vol:l.
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.
23
THE MILL MILL, O.
THE SONG WRITTEN FOB THIS WOBK
BV BURN H.
The following incident, relative to this 6ong, was recently communicated to the Editor by a friend, a Clergyman
in Dumfries-shire : " Burns, I have been informed, was one summer evening at the inn at Brownhill, with a
" couple of friends, when a poor way-worn Soldier pass'd the window: of a sudden it struck the Poet to call him
" in, and get the story of his adventures : after listening to which, he all at once fell into one of those fits of
" abstraction not unusual with him. He was lifted to the region where he had his ' Garland and Singing Robes
" about hiin,' and the result was the admirable 6ong which he sent you for ' The Mill Mill, O '.'
When wild War's deadly blast was blawn,
And gentle Peace returning,
Wi' mony a sweet babe fatherless,
And mony a widow mourning :
I left the lines, and tented field,
Where lang I'd been a lodger.
My humble knapsack a' my wealth,
A poor and honest soldier.
A leal, light heart was in my breast,
My hand unstain'd wi' plunder ;
And for fair Scotia, hame again,
I cheery on did wander.
I thought upon the banks of Coil,
I thought upon my Nancy,
I thought upon the witching smile
' That caught my youthful fancy.
At length I reach'd the bonnv glen,
Where early life I sported ;
I pass'd the mill and trysting- thorn,
Where Nancy aft I courted :
Wha spied I but my ain dear maid,
Down by her mother's dwelling !
And turn'd me round to hide the flood
That in my een was swelling.
Wi' alter 'd voice, quoth I, sweet lass,-
Sweet as yon hawthorn's blossom,
O I happy, happy may he be,
That 's dearest to thy bosom :
My purse is light, I've far to gang,
And fain would be thy lodger ;
I've serv'd my king and country lang,
Take pity on a soldier !
Sae wistfully she gaz'd on me,
And lovelier was than ever ;
Quo' she, a soldier ance I lo'ed,
Forget him shall I never :
Our humble cot, and hamely fare,
Ye freely shall partake it,
That gallant badge, the dear cockade,
Ye're welcome for the sake o't.
She gaz'd — she redden'd like a rose —
Syne pale like ony lily,
She sank within my arms, and cried,
Art thou my ain dear Willie ? —
By him who made yon sun and sky !
By whom true love 's regarded,
I am the man — and thus may still
True lovers be rewarded !
The wars are o'er, and I'm come hame,
.And find thee still true-hearted :
Tho' poor in gear, we're rich in love,
And mair, — we'se ne'er be parted !
Quo' she, my grandsire left me gowd,
A mailin plcnish'd fairly ;
And come, my faithful soldier lad,
Thou'rt welcome to it dearlv !
For gold the merchant ploughs the main,
The farmer ploughs the manor ;
But glory is the soldier's prize,
The soldier's wealth is honour:
The brave poor soldier ne'er despTse,
Nor count him as a stranger ■,
Remember, he's his country's stay
Tn day and hour of danger.
24
SHE ROSE AND LET ME IN.
The night her silent sable wore,
And gloomy were the skies,
Of glitt'ring stars appear'd no more
Than those in Nelly's eyes.
When to her father's door I came,
Where I had often been,
I begg'd my fair, my lovely dame,
To rise and let me in.
But she, with accents all divine,
Did my fond suit reprove ;
And while she chid my rash design,
She but inflam'd my love.
Her beauty oft had pleas'd before,
While her bright eyes did roll ;
But virtue only had the pow'r
To charm my very soul.
Then who would cruelly deceive,
Or from such beauty part !
I lov'd her so, I could not leave '
The charmer of my heart.
My eager fondness I obey'd,
Resolv'd she should be mine,
'Till Hymen to my arms convey'd
My treasure so divine.
Now happy in my Nelly's love,
Transporting is my joy :
No greater blessing can I prove ;
So blest a man am I.
For beauty may a while retain
The conquer'd flutt'ring heart,
But virtue only is the chain
Holds never to depart.
24
SHE BOXJi JiV/J 7,7? T M/Z I2Y.
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Sweet ANNIE frae the sea— beach came,Where JOCK.Y speelW the vessel's side$ Ah!
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faithful ain.
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I
25
SWEET ANNIE.
Oweet Annie frae the sea-beach came,
H Where Jocky speel'd the vessel's side ;
», i _..i i._. ti-„:_ i l .* i
Ah ! wha can keep their heart at bame,
When Jocky's tost aboon the tide.
Far aff to distant realms he gangs,
Yet I'll be true as he has been ;
And when ilk lass about him thrangs,
He'll think on Anne, his faithful ain.
■
■ • I
I met our wealthy laird yestreen,
Wi' gowd in hand he tempted me,
He prais'd my brow, my rolling een,
And made a brag of what he'd gi'e :
What though my Jocky's far away,
Tost up and down the awsome main,
I'll keep my heart anither day,
Since Jocky may return again.
Nae mair> false Jamie, sing nae mair,
And fairly cast your pipe away ;
My Jocky wad be troubled sair,
To see his friend his love betray :
For a' your songs and verse are vain,
While Jocky's notes do faithful flow,
My heart to him shall true remain,
I'll keep it for my constant jo.
Blaw saft, ye gales, round Jocky's head,
And gar your waves be calm and still ;
His hameward sail with breezes speed,
And dinna a' my pleasure spill :
What though my Jocky's far away,
Yet he will braw in siller shine ;
I'll keep my heart anither day,
Since Jocky may again be mine.
vol, i. r
26
LOCHERROCH SIDE.
THE SONG WRITTEN FOE THIS WOEK
BY BURNS.
U stay, sweet warbling wood-lark, stay,
Nor quit for me the trembling spray,
A hapless lover courts tby lay,
Thy soothing fond complaining.
Again, again that tender part,
That I may catch thy melting art ;
For surely that would touch her heart
Wha kills me wi' disdaining.
Say, was thy little mate unkind,
And heard thee as the careless wind ?
Ob, nought but love and sorrow join'd,
Sic notes of woe could wauken !
Thou tell'st of never-ending care,
Of speechless grief, and dark despair : —
For pity's sake, sweet bird, nae mair,
Or ray poor heart is broken !
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27,
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whisp'ring call; — Tis but the bal my, breath _ ing- gale, Mixt
Original wav. —J- «-,
Vol:l. • *]gS
a*, above, to avoid the high A.
II
27
•
THE FLOWERS OF EDINBURGH.
THE SONG
11/
BY BURNS.
Here is the glen, and here the bower,
All underneath the birchen shade ;
The village bell has told the hour,
O what can stay my lovely maid !
"Tis not Maria's whispering call ; —
'Tis but the balmy, breathing gale,
Mixt with some warbler's dying fall,
The dewy star of eve to hail.
It is Maria's voice I hear!
So calls the woodlark in the grove,
His little faithful mate to cheer,
At once 'tis music,— rand 'tis love !
And art thou come, and art thou true !
O welcome dear to love and me !
And let us all our vows renew,
Along the flowery banks of Cree.
■
28
THE SEVENTH OF NOVEMBER.
THE SONG
B7 BURNS.
" I composed this song (says the Poet) out of compliment to one
" of the happiest and worthiest married couples in the world,
" Robert Riddel, Esq. of Glenriddel, and his lady. At their
" fireside I have enjoyed more pleasant evening6 than at all
" the houses of fashionable people in this country put together ;
" and to their kindness and hospitality I am indebted for many
" of the happiest hours of ray life."
In Johnston's Museum, the Air is marked as the composition of
the aforesaid gentleman. If it be so, Burns's silence as to that
circumstance is unaccountable, considering how eagerly he in-
quired after the origin of our Airs.
JL he day returns, my bosom burns,
The blissful day we twa did meet ;
Though winter wild in tempest toil'd,
Ne'er summer sun was half so sweet.
Than a' the pride that loads the tide,
And crosses o'er the sultry line ;
Than kingly robes, than crowns and globes,
Heav'n gave me more, it made thee mine !
While day and night can bring delight,
Or nature augh^ of pleasure give ;
While joys above my mind can move,
For thee, and thee alone I live :
When that grim foe of life below,
Comes iu between to bid us part ;
The iron hand that breaks our band,
It breaks my bliss, — it breaks my heart !
THE SEVENTH OF JSTJ1EMBER .
K.01:
iss ful day"*we"#" twa
The day returns, my bosom bums. The bliss— ful day
w^^m
a did meet; Tho'
The day returns, my bosom burns,irhe bliss— ful day we twa did meet; Tho'
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Than a' the pride that loadsjhe tide, And crosses o'ei th _' suli_ry line; Than
. kingly robes, than crowns and globes, Heav'n jj-ave me mor?^3-rrraae thee mine .
kingly robes, than crowns and globes, Heav'n gave me more, it m?de thee
29.
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Vol: i.
29
O JEAN, I LOVE THEE.
THE SONG WRITTEN
BY BURNS.
Mrs Burns is the heroine of this beautiful Song.
0 were I on Parnassus' 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 sell j
On Corsicon* I'll glowr and spell,
And write how dear I love thee.
Then come, sweet Muse, inspire ray lay!
For a' the lee-lang summer day,
1 cou'dna sing, I cou'dna 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 !
By night, by day, a-field, at hame,
The thoughts o' thee my breast inflame :
And ay I muse and sing thy name, —
I only live to love thee.
Though I were doom'd to wander on
Beyond the sea, beyond the sun,
'Till my last weary sand was run,
'Till then — and then I love thee 1
* A high bill near the source of the river Nith.
VOL. I.
so
DONALD AND FLORA.
THE SONG BY H. MACNEILL,
AS ALTERED AND COEHECTED BY HIM FOR THIS WORK.
VV hen merry hearts were gay.
Careless of aught but play,
Poor Flora slipt away,
Sad'ning to Mora ;
Loose flow'd her yellow hair,
Quick heav'd her bosom bare,
As thus to the troubled air
She vented her sorrow.
" Loud howls the stormy west,
" Cold, cold, is winter's blast ;
" Haste, then, O Donald, haste,
" Haste to thy Flora !
'' Twice twelve long months are o'er,
" Since on a foreign shore
" You promis'd to fight no more,
" But meet me in Mora.
' Where now is Donald dear ?'
" Maids cry with taunting sneer ;
" Say, Is he still sincere
" To his lov'd Flora ?
" Parents upbraid my moan ;
" Each heart is turn'd to stone, —
" Ah ! Flora, thou'rt now alone,
" Friendless, in Mora !
" Come then, O come away !
" Donald, no longer stay !
" Where can my rover stray
" From his lov'd Flora ?
" Ah, sure he ne'er can be
' False to his vows and me :
" Oh heaven ! — is not yonder he
" Bounding o'er Mora!"
' Never, ah wretched fair !'
(Sigh'd the sad messenger)
' Never shall Donald mair
' Meet his lov'd Flora !
' Cold as yon mountain snow,
' Donald, thy Love, lies low,
' He sent me to soothe thy woe,
' Weeping in Mora.
4 Well fought our gallant slain
' On Saratoga's plain :
' Thrice fled the hostile train
' From British glory.
' But, ah J though our foes did flee,
' Sad was each victory :
' Youth, Love, and Loyalty,
' Fell far from Mora !
' Here, take this love-wrought plaid,
' (Donald, expiring, said)
' Give it to yon dear Maid,
' Drooping in Mora.
' Tell her, Oh Allan ! tell
' Donald thus bravely fell,
' And that in his last farewel
' He thought on his Flora.'
Mute stood the trembling fair,
Speechless with wild despair ;
Then, strikiug her bosom bare,
Sigh'd out — <' Poor Flora !
" Ah, Donald ! ah, well-a-day !"
Was all the fond heart could say :
At length the sound died away
Feebly in Mora.
30.
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How lang and dreary is the night, When I am frae my Dear ie; I
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Vol: 1.
31
CAULD KAIL IN ABERDEEN.
THE SON'G WHITTEX FOB THIS WOKK
BY BURNS.
-H-ow lang and dreary is the night,
When I am frae my dearie ;
I restless lie frae e'en to morn,
Though 1 were ne'er so weary.
For oh, her lanely nights are lang ;
And oh, her dreams are eerie ;
And oh, her widow'd heart is sair
That's absent frae her dearie V
When I think on the lightsome clays
I spent wi' thee, my dearie ;
And now what seas between us roar,
How can I be but eerie.
For ob, her lanely nights are lang ;
And oh, her dreams are eerie ;
And oh, her widow'd heart is sair
That's absent frae her dearie !
How slow ye move, ye heavy hours,
The joyless day how dreary :
It was na sae ye glinted by
When I was wi' my dearie.
For oh, her lanely nights are lang ;
And oh, her dreams are eerie ;
And oh, her widow'd heart is sair
That's absent frae her dearie !
32
CRAIGIEBURN WOOD
WRITTEN FOE THIS WOEK
BY BURNS.
The heroine of this Song was a Miss Lorimeb, to whom, under
the name of Chloris, the Poet has addressed several of
bis most enchanting songs, and who lived at Craigieburu,
near Moffat. The Air is probably a production of that coun-
try, which the Poet considers as the confine of the district
-where the greatest part of our Lowland Music has been com-
posed, as far as we may venture to localize it from the title,
the words, &c. From Craigieburn, he says, till one reaches
the West Highlands, wc have scarcely any slow air of anti-
quity.
Oweet fa's the eve on Craigieburn,
And blythe awakes the morrow,
But a' the pride of Spring's return
Can yield me nought but sorrow.
I see the flow'rs and spreading trees,
I hear the wild birds singing ;
But what a weary wight can please,
And care his bosom wringing 1
Fain, fain, would I my griefs impart ;
Yet dare na for your anger ;
But secret love will break my heart,
If I conceal it langer.
If thou refuse to pity me,
If thoushalt love another,
When yon green leaves fade frae the tree,
Around my grave they'll wither.
52
c 'KJiG/ju'jtr. rJi. v rr&oyj.
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Vol : 1
33.
THE COLLIER'S BONXIE LASSIE
Koz:
33
THE COLLIER'S BONNIE LASSIE.
THE SONG WRITTEN FOR THIS WOBK,
Ou Miss Lesley Baillie of AjTshire, now Mrs Cching
of Logic ;
B Y BURNS.
O saw ye bonnie Lesley,
As she gaed o'er the Border ?*
She's gane, like Alexander,
To spread her conquests farther.
To see her, is to love her,
i
And love but her for ever ;
For Nature made her what she is,
And ne'er made sic anither !
Thou art a queen, fair Lesley,
Thy subjects we before thee ;
Thou art divine, fair Lesley,
The hearts of men adore thee.
The De'il he cou'dna skaith thee,
Or aught that would belang thee ;
He'd look into thy bonnie face,
And say, " I canna wrang thee."
The Powers aboon will tent thee,
Misfortune sha' na steer thee ;
Thou'rt like themsels sae lovely,
That ill they'll ne'er let near thee.
Return again, fair Lesley,
Return to Caledonie !
That we may brag we hae a lass,
There's nane again sae bonnie.
* That part of Scotland bordering on England.
TOL. I. H
34
THE BONNIE HOUSE OF AIRLY.
FROM A MANUSCRIPT TRANSMITTED TO THE EDITOR,
(Now first Published, 1822J
O^ a summer day, when our Chief was away,
-And the flow'rs bloom'd fresh and fairly,
A sound from afar, like the dread voice of war,
Was heard in the bonnie house of Airly,
A sound, &c.
Argyle led on his well arm'd men,
That glance in the sun so rarely ;
And wand'ring many a lonely glen,
They reach'd the bonnie house of Airly.
And wand'ring, &c.
The Lady look'd frae her high castle wa',
And oh ! but she sigh'd sairly,
To see Argyle like a reaver come
To plunder the bonnie house of Airly,
To see Argyle, &c.
Come down, come down, thou fair Lady,
Your castle is raann'd but sparely,
Come down and safety find with me,
And leave the falling house of Airly.
Come down, &c.
O spare thy flattery, fause Argyle,
With thee I will not parley ;
My troth thou never shall beguile
From my lov'd lord of Airly.
My troth, &c.
O were they here, my brave gallant sons,
That now are wi' good Lord Airly,
They'd soon gar you rue the day that you drew
A traitor's sword 'gainst Charlie.
They'd soon, &c.
Tho' your proud banners fly, and the reek rise high
Around the towers of Airly,
The dearest blood in your kinsmen's veins
Shall pay their price but barely.
The dearest, &c.
'Twas mutter'd here, by a grey hair'd Seer,
Wha spied fu mony a ferlie,
He saw a headless chief appear
To light a low in Airly !
He saw, &c.
And when a traitor's doom you meet,
You'll rue this day right early ;
You'll think that you bought your treason dear
'Gainst our King and his faithful Airly.
You'll think, &c.
James Earl of AiRi/fhaving left Scotland in 164-0, to avoid
being compelled to sign the Covenant, the Estates of Parliament
ordered the Marquis of Argyle to proceed against Airly castle ;
which he did with such au irresistible force, that Lord OgilVie
found it prudent to withdraw, with all his retainers, and leave the
castle to its fate. It was destroyed, and the country belonging
to the family laid waste,
34.
TIIE JiOXNIE HOUSE OF II HEY.
The Sym? and Acconvp? and the Words new, 1822.
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if the singfer jirciers it.
35
THE POSIE.
WRITTEN
BY BURNS.
O Love will venture in, where it dare na weel be seen :
O Love will venture in, where wisdom ance has been :
But I will down yon river rove amang the wood sae green,
And a' to pu' a posie to my ain, dear May.
The primrose I will pu', the firstling o' the year,
And I will pu' the pink, the emblem o' my dear :
For she's the pink o' womankind, and blooms without a peer ;
And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May.
I'll pu' the budding rose, when Phoebus peeps in view,
For it's like a baumy kiss o' her sweet bonnie mou' :
The hyacinth for constancy, wi' its unchanging blue,
And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May.
The lily it is pure, and the lily it is fair,
And in her lovely bosom I'll place the lily there :
The daisy for simplicity and unaffected air,
And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May.
The hawthorn I will pu', wi' its locks o1 siller grey,
Where, like an aged man, it stands at break o' day ;
But the songster's nest within the bush I winna take away,
And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May.
The woodbine I will pu', when the ev'ning star is near,
And the diamond drops o' dew shall be her een sae clear :
The violet for modesty, which weel she fa's to wear,
And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May.
I'll tie the posie round wi' the silken band o' love,
And I'll place it in her breast, and I'll swear by a' above,
That to my latest draught o' life the band shall ne'er remove,
And this will be a posie to my ain dear May.
36
NORA'S VOW.
WRITTEN BY
SIR WALTER SCOTT, BART.
AND HERE PUBLISHED BY EXPRESS PERMISSION OF THE PRO-
PRIETORS— 1822.
Nora's Vow is set to a Gaelic air, " Cha teid mis a chaoidh, 1
" will never go with him," in Albyn's Anthology, The Editor
finding, however, that the Song is finely suited to the Lowland
air, The deuks dang o'er my daddy, has here united them.
" In the original Gaelic, (says the Poet) the Lady makes protes-
" tations that she will notgo with the Ked Earl's son until the
" swan should build in the cliff, and the eagle in the lake —
•' until one mountain should change places with another, and
" so forth. It is but fair to add, that there is no authority for
" supposing that she altered her mind, — except the vehemence
•• of her protestations."
Hear what Highland Nora said :
" The Earlie's son I "ill not wed,
" Should all the race of Nature die,
" And none be left but he and I.
" For all the gold, for all the gear,
" And all the lands both far and near,
" That ever valour lost or won,
" 1 would not wed the Earlie's son.''
« A maiden's vows,' old Galium spoke,
' Are lightly made and lightly broke ;
' The heather on the mountain's height
' Begins to bloom in purple light :
' The frost-wind soon shall sweep away
' That lustre deep from glen and brae ;
' Yet, Nora, ere its bloom be gone,
' May blythely wed the Earlie's son.
" The swan," she said, the lake's clear breast
" May barter for the eagle's nest ;
" The Awe's fierce stream may backward turn,
" Ben-Cruachan fall, and crush Kilchurn.
" Our kilted clans, when blood is high,
" Before their foes may turn and fly ;
" But I, were all these marvels done,
" Would never wed the Earlie's son.
Still in the water-lily's shade
Her wonted nest the wild swan made,
Ben-Cruachan stands as fast as ever,
Still downward foams the Awe's fierce river;
To shun the clash of focman's" steel,
No Highland brogue has turn'd the heel:
But Nora's heart is lost and won,
' She's wedded to the Earlie's son!
36
AOJiA'S VOW
The Air & Verses here first united 1822.
K07.:
all the gold for all the gear And all the lands both far and near That
e ver va — lour lost or won I would not wed the Earl _ ie's son.
Vol
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^=A-U^
'I
37.
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O mirk, mirk,
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37
LORD GREGORY.
THE SONG WRITTEN FOR THIS WORK
BY BURNS.
O mirk, mirk, is this midnight hour,
And loud the tempests roar ;
A waefu' wanderer seeks thy tower,
Lord Gregory ope thy door !
An exile frae her father's ha',
And a' for loving thee j
At least some pity on me shaw,
If love it mayna be !
Lord Gregory, mind'st thou not the grove,
By bonnie Irvine-side,
Where first I own'd that virgin- love
1 lang, lang had denied.
How aften didst thou pledge and vow,
Thou would'st for ay be mine ;
And my fond heart itsel' sae true,
It ne'er mistrusted thine.
Hard is thy heart, Lord Gregory,
And flinty is thy breast ;
Thou dart of Heav'n that flashest by,
O wilt thou give me rest !
Ye mustering thunders from above
Your willing victim see !
But spare and pardon my false Love,
His wrongs to Heav'n and me !
I!
SONG FOR THE SAME AIR,
WRITTEN FOR THIS WORK BY BR WOLCOT*
t T
Ah ope, Lord Gregory, thy door,
A midnight wanderer sighs !
Hard rush the rains, the tempests roar,
And lightnings cleave the skies !
Who comes with woe in this drear night,
A pilgrim of the gloom ?
If she wbose love did once delight,
My cot shall yield her room.
Alas ! thou hear'st a pilgrim mourn,
That once was prized by thee :
Think of the ring by yonder burn
Thou gav'st to love and me.
But shouldst thou not poor Marian know,
I'll turn my feet and part j
. And think the storms that round me blow,
Far kinder than thy heart.
I!
* It is but doing justice to the Author of the latter Song lo men-
tion, that it is the original. Burns saw it, liked it, and imme-
diately wrote the other on the same subject.
VOL, I.
38 .
THE AULD WIFE AYONT THE FIRE.
The following Jacobite ballad, from a M.S. communicated to the
Kditor, appears to hira preferable to any of the printed editions
oi' the ballad which he has seen.
Our gallant Scottish Prince was clad
VVi' bonnet blue and tartan plaid,
And O be was a handsome lad,
Nane could compare ^Yi, Charlie.
The wale o' chiefs, the great Lochiel,
At Boradale his Prince did hail,
And meikle friendship did prevail
Between the Chief and Charlie.
Chorus.
0 but ye've been lang o' coming,
Lang o' coming, Icing o' coming,
O but ye've been lung d coming,
Welcome royal Charlie.
Arouse, ilk valiant kilted clan, ' .
Let highland hearts lead on the van,
And charge the foe, claymore in band,
For sake o' royal Charlie.
O welcome Charlie o'er the main,
Our highland hills are a' your ain,
Thrice welcome to our isle again,
Our gallant royal Charlie.
Cbor. — O but ye've been lang o% coming, fyc.
Auld Scotia's sons 'mang heather hills, ' ■
Can fearless face the warst of ills,
For kindred fire ilk bosom fills,
At sight of royal Charlie.
Her ancient thistle wags its pow,
And proudly waves o'er dale and knowe,
To hear our pledge and sacred vow
To live or die wi' Charlie.
Chor. — 0 but ye've been lang o' coming, S$c.
We darena brew a peck o' ma't,
But Geordie ay is finding fau't,
We canna make a pickle sa't.
For want o' royal Charlie.
Then up and quaff alang wi' me
A bumper crown'd wi' ten times three,
To him that's come to set us free,
Huzza for royal Charlie.
Chor. — O but ye've been lang o' coming, SfC.
From a' the wilds o' Caledon,
We'll gather every hardy son,
'Till thousands to his standard run,
And rally round Prince Charlie-
Come let the flowing quech go round,
And boldly bid the pibroch sound,
'Till cv'ry glen and rock resound
The name o' royal Charlie.
Chor. — 0 but ye've been lang d coming, Sfc.
38
W2?Z,CQME jROE&£. f'J/,/7.'/,/J3.
The Woids and Music here first united, 1822.
Haydn.
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39
SHE'S FAIR AND FAUSE.
THE SONG WUITTEN
BY BURNS.
She's fair and fause that causes my smart,
I loe'd her meikle and lang ;
She's broken her vow, she's broken ray heart,
And I may e'en gae hang.
A coof came in wi' rowth o' gear,
And I hae tint my dearest dear ;
But woman is but warld's gear,
Sae let the bonnie lass gang.
Whae'er ye be that woman love,
To this be never blind ;
Nae ferlie 'tis tho' fickle she prove,
A woman has't by kind.
O woman, lovely woman fair,
An angel form's faun to thy share !
'Twou'd been o'er meikle to've gi'en thee mair,-
I mean an angel mind.
40
THE SILKEN SNOOD.
THE SONG WRITTEN FOR THIS WORK
ST BUBNS.
-fc arkwell thou stream Jhat winding flows
Around Eliza's dwelling ;
Ah ! cruel mem'ry, spare the throes
Within my bosom swelling !
Condemn'dto drag a hopdess chain,
And still in secret languish j
To feel a fire in ev'ry vein,
Yet dare not speak my anguish.
Love's veriest wretch, unseen, unknown,
I fain my griefs would cover :
The bursting sigh, th' unweeting groan,
Betray the hapless lover :
I know thou doom'st me to despair,
Nor wilt, nor canst relieve me ;
But oh ! Eliza, hear one prayer,—
For pity's sake, forgive" me !
The music of thy voice I heard,
Nor wist while it enslav'd me ;
I saw thine eyes, yet nothing fear'd,
Till fears no more had saved me.
Th' unwary sailor, thus, aghast,
The wheeling torrent viewing,
Mid circling horrors sinks at last
In overwhelming ruin.
THE OLD SONG TO THE SAME AIR.
v-'h I hae lost my silken snood,
That tied my hair sae yellow :
I've gi'cn my heart to the lad I loo'd,
He ^vas a gallant fellow.
And twine it weel, my bonnie dow,
And twine it weel, the plaiden ;
The lassie lost her silken snood,
In pu'ing of the bracken.
He prais'd my een sae bonny blue,
Sae lily-white my skin, O ;
And syne he pried my bonny mou',
And swore it was nae sin, O !
But he has left the lass he loo'd,
His ain true love forsaken,
Which gars me sair to greet the snood,
I lost arnang the bracken.
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Vol: 1,
# Sach voices as cannot reach G9 may sing E ,
41.
liajILDIDSlsi
^fiT OFjEJY the noon
Irish.
Pleyel .
Oh! o_ pen the door, Some pi ty to shew$ Oh!
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Vol:l.
2«?4I
US^M^
life at my breast, Is nought to my pains from thee, * Oh!
WVTH;
r
Vol : 1 .
The wan moon is setting- behind the white wave,
And time is setting1 with me, Oh.'
False friends, false love, farewell, for more,
I'll ne'er trouble them, nor thee, Oh!
4.O1 .
She has open'd the door, she has open'd it wide,
She sees his pale corse on the plain, Oh!
"My true iove she cried" — and sunk down by his side,
Never to rise again , Oh !
BUHNS.
42.
TIT/? TyOX'S SZ.JSJEJP.
Irish.
Beet li<.\ ell.
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5-5 B
Duet.
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The Hero may perish his Country to save, And he lives in the recorc Is of famej The
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The Hero may perish, his
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Sage may the dungeons of Tyranny brave, Ever honourMand blestbehis name! But
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Sage may the dungeons of Tyran nv brave, Evei 'honourMand blestbehis name!
But
virtue that silent lv toils or expires, No wreath for die hrow to en twine j That
virtue that silent— l.y toils or expires, No wreath lor the brow to en twinej 'I hat
virtuethat silent— l.y toils or expires, No wreath forth*
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askshuta smile buta fond sigh requires, O Woman that virtue is thine.
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42
THE FOX'S SLEEP.
THE WORDS WRITTEN FOR THIS WORK
BY WILLIAM SMYTH, ESQ.
1 he Hero may perish his country to save,
And he lives in the records of fame ;
The Sage may the dungeons of tyranny brave —
Ever honour'd and blest be his name !
But Virtue that silently toils or expires,
No wreath for the brow to entwine ;
That asks but a smile — but a fond sigh requires-
O Woman ! that virtue is thine.
THE DYING FATHER TO HIS DAUGHTER.
WRITTEN FOR THIS WORK
BY WILLIAM SMYTB, ESQ
INTENDED FOR THB SiME AIR, WITHOUT THE SECOND-VOICE PART.
J-o me, my sweet Kathleen, the Benshee has cried,
And I die — ere to morrow I die. — *
This rose thou hast gather'd, and laid by my side,
Will live, my child, longer than I.
My days they are gone, like a tale that is told —
Let me bless thee, and bid thee adieu ;
For never to father, when feeble and old,
Was daughter so kind and so true.
Thou hast walk'd by my side, and my board thou hast spread,
For my chair the warm corner hast found ;
And told my dull ear what the visitor said,
When I saw that the laughter went round.
Thou hast succour'd me still, and my meaning exprest
When memory was lost on its way —
Thou hast pillow'd my head ere I laid it to rest —
Thou art weeping beside me to-day.
O Kathleen, my Love ! thou couldst choose the good part,
And more than thy duty hast done : —
Go now to thy Dermot, be clasp'd to his heart,
He merits the love he has won.
Be duteous and tender to him, as to me ;
Look up to the mercy-seat then :
And passing this shadow of death, which I see,
Come, come to my arms back again.
* In the Irish superstition, the Benshee is the warning spirit that an-
nounces death.
VOL. I. K
43
MY LODGING IS ON THE COLD GROUND.
THE SONG WRITTEN
BY BURXS.
Scene. — A Field of Battle — Evening. — The wounded and dying
of the victorious army are supposed to join in the following
song.
£ areweli thou fair day, thou green earth, anil ye skies,
Now gay with the hroad setting sun !
Farewell ! loves and friendships, ye dear tender ties !
Our race of existence is run !
Thou grim king of terrors, thou life's gloomy foe,
Go frighten the coward and slave !
Go teach them to tremble, fell tyrant ! but know,
No terrors hast thou to the brave !
Thou strik'st the dull peasant, he sinks in the dark,
Nor leaves e'en the wreck of a name :
Thou strik'st the young hero, a glorious mark !
He falls in the blaze of his fame !
In the field of proud honour, our swords in our hands,
Our king and our country to save,
While victory shines on life's last ebbing sands,
O, who would not die with the brave !
>
43. my lodging is on* the coli> ground.
Plevrl.
Iriih.
proiN^
Diet.
Fare_well thou fair day, thou gTeen earth, and,ye skies,Now gay with the broad setting sun! Fare—
Fare— well thou fair day 1llougTeenearth»and>yeskies,Nowgw withthebroadsetting sun! Fare—
_well! loves and friendships, ye dear tenrler ties! Our race of existence is run!
Thou
.... ... ... ye dear tender ties! Our race of existence is JTll fhoi
3
—well! loves and friendships,
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teach them to tremhle, fell tyrantlbut know, No terrors hast thou for the brave!
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teachthem to tremble,'6*1 tyrantlbut know, No terrorshast thou for the bj.
3H n ^^
Vol: 1
44.
Irish.
Haydn .
Had I a heart for falsehood framM, I ne'er could injure ,you$ For
#
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SI
3H3E
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^. U^ut^^
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tho'your tongue no promise claim'd, your charms would make me true; To
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you no soul shall hear de_ ceit, nor Strang- er of fer wrong-: But
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trang- er of fer wrong-: But
m^^m"^^^^^^^
friends in all the ag-ed you'll meet. And lovers in the young-
Voi:l.
f^r^
44
GRAMACHREE.
THE SONG WEITTEN
BY R. B. SHERIDAN, ESQ.
Had I a heart for falsehood frara'd, I ne'er could injure you ;
For tho' your tongue no promise claim'd, your charms would make me
To you no soul shall bear deceit, no stranger offer wrong : [true :
But friends in all the aged you'll meet, and lovers in the young.
But when they learn that you have blest another with your heart,
They'll bid aspiring passion rest, and act a brother's part :
Then, lady, dread not their deceit, nor fear to suffer wrpng ;
For friends in all the aged you'll meet, and brothers in the young.
■m
SONG FOR THE SAME AIR,
'said to have been written in bedlam
BY A NEGRO.
Osj; morning very early, one morning in the spring,
I heard a maid in Bedlam who mournfully did sing ;
Her chains she rattled on her hands, while sweetly thus sung ■she ;
I love my Love, because I know my Love loves me.
O ! cruel were his parents, who sent my Love to sea,
And cruel, cruel was the ship, that bore my Love from me ;
Yet I love his parents, since they're his, altho' they've ruin'd me ;
And I love my Love, because I know my Love loves me. .
O ! should it please the pitying pow'rs to call me to the sky,
I'd claim a guardian-angel's charge around my Love to fly ;
To guard him from all dangers how happy should I be ;
For I love my Love, because I know my Love loves me.
I'll make a strawy garland, I'll make it wondrous fine ;
With roses, lilies, daisies, I'll mix the eglantine ;
And I'll present it to my Love when he returns from sea;
For I love my Love, because I know my Love loves me.
Oh, if T were a little bird, to build upon his breast !
Or if I were a nightingale, to sing my Love to rest !
To gaze upon his lovely eyes, all my reward should be ;
For 1 love my Love, because I know my Love loves me.
Oh, if I were an eagle, to soar into the sky !
I'd gaze around with piercing eyes where I my Love might spy ;
But ah, unhappy maiden ! that Love you ne'er shall see !
Yet I love my Love, because I know my Love loves me.
45
ROBIN ADAIR.
THE SONG WRITTEN FOB THIS WORK
BY BURNS.
Had I a cave on some wild distant shore,
Where the winds howl to the waves dashing roar:
There would I weep my woes,
There seek my lost repose,
'Till grief my eyes should close
Ne'er to wake more.
Falsest of woman-kind, canst thou declare,
All thy fond plighted vows, fleeting as air !
To thy new lover hie,
Laugh o'er thy perjury —
Then in thy bosom try
What peace is there !
AN OLD SONG FOR THE SAME AIR.
oince all thy vows, false maid, are blown to air,
And my poor heart betray 'd to sad despair,
Into some wilderness,
My grief L will express,
And thy hard heartedness,
O cruel Fair.
Have I not grav'n our loves on every tree,
In yonder spreading groves, tho' false thou be :
Was not a solemn oath,
Plighted between us both,
Thou thy faith, I my troth,
Constant to be.
Some gloomy place I'll find, some doleful shade,
Where neither sun nor wind e'er entrance had:
Into that hollow cave,
There will I sigh and rave,
Because thou dost behave
So faithlessly.
Wild fruit shall be my meat, I'll drink the spring ;
Cold earth shall be my seat ; for covering
I'll have the starry sky
My head to canopy,
Until my soul on high
Shall spread its wing.
I'll have no funeral fire, nor tears for me ;
No grave do I desire, nor obsequie. .
The courteous red-breast, he,
With leaves will cover me,
And sing my elegy
With doleful voice.
And when a ghost I am, I'll visit thee :
O thou deceitful dame, whose cruelty
Has kill'd the kindest heart
That e'er felt Cupid's dart,
And never can desert
From loving thee.
JfOJBZJV ^iZtAZZt.
Irish.
Hayd n .
PppiiPt*
Oh! had I a cave on some wild dis tant shore,
m
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Oh! had I a cave on some wild dis lant shore,
Where the winds howl to the waves dasli ing roar;
'Till grief my eyes should close, Ne'er to wake more
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Vol • 1 ,
46.
THE MEJY fAF ir*Ut£,ECirs JLtRCtf.
Welsh.
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Dauntless sons of Celtic sires. Whose
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souls the love of
'freedom fir68? Hark, ev'ry harp to war inspires, On Cader Idns side.
a£
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well— tried spear which Saxons fear, in war—like splendour glancing! Prou
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Proud
mm
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Harlech from her frowning" tow'rs, Pours forth her never — failing' pow'rs: Rouse,
heroes, g-lory shallte ours$ March onyour Country's pride.
mm
Vol: 1.
46
THE MEN OF HARLECH'S MARCH.
THE SONG WRITTEN FOB THIS WOEK
BY SIR ALEX. BOSWELL, BART.
In singing the second stanza, a quaver must be supplied for the
first word of the fifth and sixth lines.
-Dauntless sons of Celtic sires,
Whose souls the love of freedom fires :
Hark, every harp to war inspires
On Cader Idris side.
See the brave advancing,
See the brave advancing !
Each well-tried spear, which Saxons fear,
In warlike splendour glancing !
Proud Harlech from her frowning towers*
Pours forth her never-failing powers :
Rouse, heroes, glory shall be ours ;
March on, your country's pride !
Shall heart-rending sounds of woe
Be heard where Conway's waters flow ?
Or shall a rude and ruthless foe
Find here one willing slave ?
From mountain and from valley,
From mountain and from valley ;
From Snowdon, from Plinlimmon's brow,
Around your Prince ye rally.
Let cowards kiss tb' oppressor's scourge,
Home to his heart your weapons urge,
Or whelm him in th' avenging surge ;
To victory, ye brave !
* Harlech Castle stands on a lofty rock, upon the sea-shore of
Merionethshire : The original tower, called Twr Bronwen, is said
to have been built in the sixth century ; it afterwards received the
name of Caer Co/wyn, and eventually its more descriptive name,
Harlech, or Ardd lech, the high cliff. The present castle, still
nearly entire, was the work of Edward I. and a place of great
strength. In HGU, being possest by Dafydd, ap Jeyan, apEinion,
a steady friend of the House of Lancaster, it was invested by
William Earl of Pembroke, after a most difficult march through
the heart of the Welsh Alps ; and surrendered on honourable terms
to his gallant brother, Sir Richard Herbert, who engaged to
save the life of the brave Welsh commander, by interceding with
his cruel master Edward IV. The king at first refused his request,
when Herbert told him plainly, that his Highness might take
his life instead of that of the Welsh captain, for that he would
assuredly replace Dafydd in the castle, and the King might send
whom he pleased to take him out again. This prevailed, but Sir
Kicbahd received no other reward for his service. — Pilnnant.
VOL. I. i
47
THE DAWN OF DAY
THE SONG WRITTEN FOB THIS WORK
BY WILLIAM SMYTH, ESQ.
J- GiZE upon yon mountains that mingle with the sky,
And if my wishes were but wings, beyond them I would fly ;
For far beyond the mountains that look so distant here,
To fight his country's battles, last May-day went my dear.
Ah ! well do I remember with bitter sighs the day j
Why Owen didst thou leave me, at home why did I stay !
I count the passing moments the weary live long day,
For every day's a week long since Owen went away.
Ah ! cruel was my father, who did my flight restrain,
And I was cruel-hearted that did at home remain :
With thee, my Love, contented, I'd journey far away ;
Why Owen didst thou leave me, at home why did I stay !
In short and broken slumbers I dream of thee alone,
And when my mother calls me, I start and find thee gone ;
When thinking of my Owen, my eyes with tears they fill,
And then my mother chides me, because my wheel stands still :
How can I think of spinning whilst Owen's faraway;
Why Owen didst thou leave me, at home why did I stay !
And oft in waking visions I see some danger near,
To fright my troubled fancy, that hovers round my dear !
O ! may it please kind heaven, to shield my Love from harm ;
To clasp him to my bosom would ev'ry care disarm :
But, ah ! I fear it's distant far that happy, happy day ;
Why, Owen, didst thou leave me, at home why did I stay !
47.
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shine in more suh stantial honours, And to be no — hie we'll he good.
lo he no hie- we'll T>e good.
shine in more suh stantial honours, And to be no — hie- we'll he good.
Vol: 1
48
THE OLD SIBYL.
The Song has generally been considered a translation from the
Welsh by Gilbert Cooper ; but, in the Edinburgh Review,
Vol. XI. p. 37, the honour of the production is given to
Steevens, the Commentator on Shakespeare.
Awat, let nought to love displeasing,
My Winifreda move your fear ;
Let nought delay the heavenly blessing,
Nor squeamish pride, nor gloomy care.
What though no grants of royal donors,
With pompous titles grace our blood ;
We'll shine in more substantial honours,
And to be noble we'll be good.
What though from fortune's lavish bounty,
No mighty treasures we possess.
We'll find within our pittance plenty,
And be content without excess.
Still shall each kind returning season
Sufficient for our wishes give,
For we will live a life of reason,
And that's the only life to live.
Our name, while virtue thus we tender,
Shall sweetly sound where'er 'tis spoke :
And all the great ones much shall wonder,
How they admire such little folk.
Through youth, and age, in love excelling,
We'll hand in hand together tread;
Sweet smiling peace shall crown our dwelling,
And babes, sweet smiling babes, our bed.
How should I love the pretty creatures,
Whilst round my knees they fondly clung ;
To see them look their mother's features j
To hear them lisp their mother's tongue.
And when with envy, time transported,
Shall think to rob us of our joys,
You'll in your girls again be courted,
And I'll go wooing in my boys.
49
THE DYING BARD TO HIS HARP.
•rsrP5
THE SONG WRITTEN FOB THIS WOHK
BY SIR WALTER SCOTT, BART.
JDinas Emiinn lament, for the moment is nigh,
When mute in the woodlands thine echoes shall die,
No more by sweet Teivi Cadwallon shall rave,
And mix his wild notes with the wild dashing wave.
In spring and in autumn, thy glories of shade,
Unhonour'd shall flourish, unhonour'd shall fade;
For soon shall be lifeless the eye and the tongue,
That view'd them with rapture, with rapture that sung
Thy sons, Dinas Emlinn, may march in their pride,
And chase the proud Saxon from Prestatyn's side ;
But where is the harp shall give life to their name ?
And where is the bard shall give heroes their fame ?
And, oh, Dinas Emlinn ! thy daughters so fair,
Who heave the white bosom and wave the dark hair ;
What tuneful enthusiast shall worship their eye,
When half of their charms with Cadwallon shall die ?
Then adieu, silver Teivi ? I quit thy lov'd scene,
To join the dim choir of the bards who have been ;
With Lewarch, and Meilor, and Merlin the old,
And sage Taliessin, high harping to hold.
And adieu, Dinas Emlinn ! still green be thy shades,
Unconquer'd thy warriors, and matchless thy maids !
And thou, whose faint warblings my weakness can tell,
Farewell, my lov'd harp ! my last treasure farewell !
►'
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50.
THE RISIAG OF T&JZ J^IRK.
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50
THE RISING OF THE LARK,
THB SONO WRITTEN FOB THIS WORK,
BY MBS GRANT.
See, O see, the breaking day j
How the dew-drop decks the thorn !
Hov'ring low, the sky-lark's lay
Long preluding meets the morn.
Hark ! the liquid notes awake anew,
Rising sweeter with the rising dew.
Rising with the rising dew.
Come, my Love, and drink the sound
Ere the dazzling sun appears ;
While each drooping rlow'ret round
Bends with nature's early tears.
Poising, as she mounts with humid wings,
Still above her lowly nest she sings,
O'er her lowly nest she sings.
Now the dappled clouds among,
Sweet and clear ascends the lay ;
Come, before the plumy throng
Wake to hail the king of day !
Warbling louder still she mounts alone,
Near and nearer to his amber throne,
Nearer to his amber throne !
See the blazing gates unfold !
See his radiant head appear !
Through yon op'ning clouds of gold
Still the less'ning note we hear.
Sinking softly with the sinking strain,
See her seek her lowly nest again,
See her seek her nest again.
END OF VOLUME FIRST.
PRINTED BY JOHN MOItt,
FOR THE PROPRIETOR, G, THOMSON,
PRINCES' STREET, EDINBURGH.
1828.
r
THE MELODIES,
VOLUME FIRST.
INDEX TO THEIR NAMES IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER.
THE MELODIES, ACCORDING TO THE PRINCIPLES STATED IN THE DISSERTATION,
MAY BE CLASSED IN THE FOLLOWING MANNER ; THOSE MARKED
A, as the oldest, and of remote antiquity.
B, as the productions of more recent periods.
C, as modern productions, not older than the 18th century.
D, as English imitations of Scottish melodies.
Names or the Melodies. ^j£^Z* Pa&e-
Auld Rob Morris A 17
Bonny wee thing B 22
Corn riggs B 6
Cauld kail in Aberdeen .... A 51
Craigieburn wood B 52
Donald . Doubtful if Scottish or Irish 15
Donald and Flora A 50
Gala water A 1 J
Gilderoy A 18
( ramachree Irish 44
Here awa there awa A 2
I'll never leave thee A 5
Locliaber A 9
Locherroch side . • C 26
Lord Gregory C 57
My apron deary B 10
My lodging is on the jcold ground Irish 45
My Nanie, O A 4
O Jean I love thee (Oswald ) . . C 29
O open the door Irish 41
Robin Adair Irish 45
Roslin castle, (Oswald) . . . . C 14
She rose and let me in D 24
Somebody B 21
Sweet Annie, (Dr Green) . . . C 25
Names of the Melodies.
The Birks of Invermay . .
She's fair and fause : .
The bonnie house of Airly
The Braes of Yarrow . . .
The bush aboon Traquair
The Collier's bonnie lassie
The dawn of day ....
The deuk's dang o'er my daddie
The dying bard .,.,..
The ewe-bughts
The flowers of Edinburgh . .
The fox's sleep
Tweedside ......
The mill mill, O
The men of Harlech's march .
The old sybil •'
The posie
The rising of the lark , • .
The seventh of November
The silken snood . . . ■
The waefu' heart ....
The yellow hair'd laddie . .
Waly, waly
for two voices . .
Welcome Royal Charlie . .
Marks above
referred to.
. B
. B
. B
. A
. B
. B
Welsh
. B
. Welsh
A
. B
. Irish
. A
. A
Welsh
Ditto
B
Welsh
. B
. A
. C
. B
A
B
Page.
1
59
54
12
7
55
47
56
49
8
27
42
5
25
46
48
55
50
28
40
16
15
19
20
5S
THE POETRY,
VOLUME FIRST.
INDEX TO THE FIRST LINE OF EACH OF THE SONGS.
FIRST USES,
Ah ! Chloris, &c. . .
Away, let nought, &c.
Ah, ope Lord Gregory,
AUTHORS. PAGE.
Anon. ... 18
Cooper, Gilhert . 4S
Walcot, . . 57
Behind yon hills, &c.
. Burns . .
4
Bonny wee thing, &c.
. Ditto . .
22
Braw, brar/ lads, &c.
Ditto . .
11
. Hamilton, W.
12
Come, dear Amanda, &c. Anon.
Dauntless sons, &c. . . Biswell, Sir A.
46
Dinas Emlinn, &c. . . Scott, Sir Walter
49
Farewell thou fair day, &c. Burns. . . .
45
Farewell thou stream, &c. Ditto. . . .
40
Farewell to Loc.haber, &c. Ramsay, . . .
9
From thee Eliza, &c, . Burns, . . .
15
Gilderoy was a bonny boy, Anon. . . .
IS
Gin living worth, &c. . Anon. . . .
16
Had I cave, &c. . . . Burns.' . . .
45
Had I a heart, &c. . • Sheridun, . .
44
Here me ye nymphs, &c. Crawford, . .
1
Here awa', there awa', &c. Burns, . . .
2
27
How oft, Louisa, . . Sheridan, . .
1
How lang and dreary, &c. Burns,
51
Hear what Highland Nora, Scott, Sir W.
36
I gaze upon those mountains, Smyth, Win.
47
In April when primroses, &c. Ramsay, . .
15
My heart is sair, &c. . Burns, . . .
21
My Patie is a lover gay, &c. Ramsay, . .
6
FIBST LINES. AUTHORS. PAGE.
My sheep I neglected, &c. E'/iot, Sir Gilbert 10
On a summer day, &c. . Anon.
Oh ! open the door, &c. . Burns,
Oh I hae lost my silken, Anon.
O love will venture in, &c. Burnt,
O mirk, mirk, Szc. . . Ditto .
One day I heard, &c. . Craiuford,
One morning very earlv, oic.Anon. ■
O saw ye bonny Lesley, Burns,
O stay sweet warbling, &c. Ditto
O waly, waly, &c. . . Anon.
O waly, waly, as a duett, Ditto ,
Our gallant Scottish Prince, Ditto
O were I on Parnassus hill, Burns
See, O see, &c. . .
She's fair and fause, &c.
Since all thy vows, &c.
Sweet Annie, &c. . .
Sweet fa's the eve, &c.
Grant, Mrs
Burns,
Anon. ,
Ditto . .
Burns,
There's auld Kob Morris, Ditto . . .
The day returns, &c . Ditto . . .
The night her silent sable, Anon. . . .
The smiling morn, &c. . Mallet, . . .
Tome my sweet Kathleen, Smyth, W. . .
'Twas in that season, Sec. Hewit, Richard
The hero may perish, . Smyth, W. . .
What beauties, &c. . Crawford, . .
When merry hearts, &c. Macneil, . . .
When wild wnr's, &c. . Burns, . . .
Will ye goto the Ewe- bughts,^4«072. . . .
Will ye go to the Indies, Burns, . . . .
54
41
40
55
57
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44
55
26
19
20
58
29
50
59
45
25
52
17
28
24
1
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42
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25
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The mind whose every wish is pure,
Is dearer far than gold to me;
And ere I'm forc'd to break my faith,
I 11 lay me down and die:
For I hae pledg'd my virgin troth,
My ain brave Donalds fate to share;
And he has gi'en to me his heart,
Wi' a' its virtues rare.
Vol: y.
His gentle manners won my heart,
He, grateful, took the willing gift;
I wou'd na seek my pledf.'p a^ain,
For a1 heneath the lift .
For langest life can neVr repay,
The well tried love he bears to me;
And ere I'm forc'd to break my troth,
111 lay me down and die.
THE G LA S GO¥ LASSES. BEETHOVEN,
MA KY at thy win dow he, It is the wish'd the trysted hour^ Those
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Vol : 2 .
Vol: 2.
Yestreen when to the trembling1 string1,
The dance gaed through the lighted ha',
To thee my fancy took its wing,
I sat, — but neither heard nor saw:
Tlio' this was fair, and that was braw,
And yon the toast of a' the town;
I sighM, and said, amang1 them a',
"Ye are na Mahy MOKISOX .
3r.fl
O MAKY, canst thou wreck his peace,
Wha for thy sake wou'd gladly die!
Or canst thou break that heart of his,
Whase only fau't is loving thee:
If love for love thou wilt na gie,
At least be pity to me shewn;
A thought ung'entle canna be,
The thought o' Mary Mori son.
BVRNH.
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4 THKIR GROVES OF SWEET MYRTLE.
ThcAir by Nath Gow._The Sym: i Ateomt by Beethoven 1822.
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.
THEIR GROVES OF SWEET MYRTLE.
WRITTEN FOR THIS WORK
, BY BURNS.
AIR— BY NATHANIEL GOW.
Their groves of sweet myrtle let foreign lands reckon,
Where bright-beaming- summers exalt the perfume ;
Far dearer to me yon lone glen o' green breckan,
Wi' the burn stealing under the lang yellow broom ;
Far dearer to me are yon humble broom bowers,
Where the blue-bell and gowan lurk lowly, unseen ;
For there, lightly tripping amang the wild flowers,
A listening the linnet, oft wanders my Jean.
Though rich is the breeze in their gay sunny valleys,
And 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 I
The slave's spicy forests, and gold bubbling fountains,
The brave Caledonian views with disdain ;
He wanders as free as the winds of his mountains,
Save love's willing fetters, the chains of his Jean.
VOL. II.
THE SHEPHERD'S SON.
THE SONG WRITTEN FOR THIS WORK
BY JOANNA BAILLIE.
The gowan glitters on the sward,
The lavrock's in the sky,
And Colley on my plaid keeps ward,
And time is passing by.
Oh, no ! sad and slow !
I hear nae welcome sound ;
The shadow of our trysting bush
It wears so slowly round !
My sheep-bell tinkles frae the west,
My lambs are bleating near,
But still the sound that I lo'e best,
Alack ! I canna hear.
Oh, no ! sad and slow !
The shadow lingers still,
And like a lanely ghaist I stand
And croon upon the hill.
I hear below the water roar,
The mill wi' clacking din,
And Lucky scolding frae her door
To bring the bairnies in.
Oh, no ! sad and slow !
These are nae sounds for me ;
The shadow of our trysting bush-,
It creeps sae drearily.
I coft yestreen from Chapman Tam
A snood of bonnie blue,
And promised, when our trysting cam',
To tie it round her brow.
Oh, no ! sad and slow I
The time it winna pass :
The shadow of that weary thorn
Is tether'd on the grass.
O, now I see her on the way,
She's past the Witches' Knowe :
She's climbing up the Browney's Braet
My heart is in a lowe.
Oh, no ! 'tis na so !
'Tis glamrie I hae seen :
The shadow of that hawthorn bush
Will move nae mair till e'en.
My book o' grace I'll try to read,
Though conn'd wi' little skill ;
When Colley barks, I'll raise my head,
And find her on the hill.
Oh, no ! sad and slow !
The time will ne'er be gane :
The shadow of the trysting bush
Is fix'd like ony stane.
5.
THE SHEPHERD'S SON
First puMUh'.l in 1822.
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1 HAD A HORSE. AND I HAD NAE MAIK
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O why should fate sic pleasure have, Life's dearest hands un.
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Vol : 2
6
I HAD A HORSE AND I HAD NAE MAUL
THE SONG WRITTEN FOR THIS WORK
BY BURNS.
O poortith catdd, and restless love,
Ye wreck my peace between ye;
Yet poortith a' I could forgive,
An' 'twerna for my Jeanie.
O, why should Fate sic pleasure have,
Life's dearest bands untwining ?
O why sae sweet a flower as love,
Depend on Fortune's shining ?
This warld's wealth when I think on,
It's pride, and a' the lave o't ;
Fie, fie on silly toward man,
That he should be the slave o't !
O why, &c.
Her een sae bonny blue, betray
How she repays my passion ;
But prudence is her o'erword aye,
She talks of rank and fashion.
O why, &c.
O wha can prudence think upon,
And sic a lassie by him ;
O wha can prudence think upon,
And sae in love as I am ?
O why, &c.
How blest the humble cotter's fate,
He wooes his simple dearie ;
The silly bogles, wealth and state,
Can never make them eerie.
O why, &c.
HERE'S A HEALTH TO MY TRUE LOVE.
THE SONG,
Although it passed for some time as Dr Blacklock's, is at length
ascertained to have been written
BY BURNS.
The lazy mist hangs from the brow of the hill,
Concealing- the course of the dark-winding rill :
How languid the scenes, late so sprightly, appear,
As 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.
How long I have lived — but how much lived in vain ;
How little of life's scanty span may remain ;
What 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 gain'd !
And downward, how weaken'd, how darken'd, how pain'd !
Life is not worth having with all it can give,
For something beyond it poor man sure must live.
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RISE UP AND BAR THE DOOR.
THE SONG WRITTEN IN 1795,
BY BURNS.
The Symphonies and Accompaniments new, and first united to the Song in 1822.
Does haughty Gaul invasion threat ?
Then let the loons beware, sir,
There's wooden walls upon our seas,
And Volunteers on shore, sir.
The Nith shall run to Corsincon,*
And Criffel f sink in Solway,
Ere we permit a foreign foe
On British ground to rally.
O let us not, like snarling curs,
In wrangling be divided,
'Till slap come in an unco loon,
And wi' a rung decide it.
Be Britain still to Britain true,
Among ourselves united ;
For never but by British hands
Must British wrongs be righted.
The kettle of the Kirk and State,
Perhaps a claut may fail in't ;
But deil a foreign tinkler loon
Shall ever ca' a nail in't.
Our fathers' blood the kettle bought,
And who would dare to spoil it?
By Heav'n, the sacrilegious dog'
Shall fuel be to boil it !
The wretch that would a tyrant own,
And the wretch, his true-born brother,
Who'd set the mob aboon the throne,
May they be damn'd together.
Who will not sing, " God save the King !"
Shall hang as high 's the steeple ;
But while we sing, " God save the King !"
We'll ne'er forget the people.
* A high hill at the source of the river Nith. f A mountain at the mouth of the same river, on the Solway Frith,
THE OLD SONG TO THE SAME AIR.
In the following Song the interjection O is commonly put at the end of the second and fourth lines of each verse by the
Singer, as the Air requires the addition of a monosyllable to those lines.
There dwelt a man in Crawford muir,
And John Blunt was his name,
He made gude maut, and brew'd gude ale,
And had a wondrous fame.
It was about the Martimas time ;
And a gude time it was then,
When our gudewife had puddings to make,
And she boil'd them in the pan.
The wind it blew baith cauld and raw,
And it blew into the floor ;
Quoth our gudeman to our gudewife,
" Get up and bar the door."
" My hand is in my hussyfskap,
Gudeman, as ye may see ;
Should it nae be barr'd this hunder year,
It's nae be barr'd for me."
They made a paction 'tween them twa,
They made it firm and sure,
That the first of them that spake a word,
Shou'd rise and bar the door.
Then by there came twa gentlemen,
At twelve o'clock at night,
And they could see nor house nor ha',
Nor coal nor candle light.
" Now, whether is this a rich man's house,
Or whether is't a poor?" —
But never a word wad ane o' them speak,
For barriDg of the door.
Then first they ate the white puddings,
And syne they ate the black ;
Tho' muckle thought the gudewife to hersell,
Yet ne'er a word she spake.
Then said the one unto the other,
" Here, man, tak ye my knife ;
Do you tak aff the auld man's beard,
And I'll kiss the gudewife."
' But there's nae water in the house,
And what shall we do then ?'
" What ails you at the pudding-bree,
That boils into the pan ?"
O up then started our gudeman,
An angry man was he ;
" Will ye kiss my wife before my een,
And scald me wi' pudding-bree ?"
O uj| then started our gudewife,
Gied three skips on the floor ;
". Gudeman, you've spoke the foremost word,
Get up and bar the door !"
BONNY DUNDEE.
WRITTEN FOR THIS WORK
BY BURNS.
Miss Jessie St.ug of Dumfries, afterwards Mrs Major Miller, Dalswinton, was the Heroine of this Song.
Truehearted was he the sad swain of the Yarrow,
And fair are the maids on the banks of the Ayr ;
But by the sweet side of the Nith's winding river,
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 of lovely young Jessie,
Unseen is the lily, unheeded the rose.
Love sits in her smile, a wizard ensnaring ;
Enthron'd in her eyes, he delivers his law ;
And still to her charms she alone is a stranger !
Her modest demeanour's the jewel of a'.
MARY O' CASTLE-CARY,
WRITTEN BY H. MACNIEL, FOR THE SAME AIR.
" Saw ye my wee thing ? saw ye mine ain thing ?
Saw ye my true love down on yon lea ?
Cross'd she the meadow, yestreen at the gloaming ?
Sought she the burnie where flow'rs the haw-tree ?
Her hair it is lint-white ; her skin it is milk-white ;
Dark is the blue o' her saft-rolling ee !
Red, red her ripe lips, and sweeter than roses !
Where could my wee thing wander frae me ?"
' I saw na your wee thing, I saw na your ain thing,
Nor saw I your true love down by yon lea ;
But I met my bonny thing, late in the gloaming,
Down by the burnie, where flow'rs the haw-tree.
Her hair it was lint-white, her skin it was milk-white,
Dark was tbe blue o' her saft-rolling e'e !
Red were her ripe lips, and sweeter than roses !
Sweet were the kisses that she gae to me.'
" It was na my wee thing ! it was na mine ain thing !
It was na my true love ye met by the tree I
Proud is her leal heart, modest her nature ;
She never loed ony till ance she loed me.
Her name it is Mary, she's frae Castle-Cary,
Aft has she sat, when a bairn, on my knee I
Fair as your face is, were 't fifty times fairer,
Young bragger ! she ne'er would gie kisses to thee !"
' It was then your Mary, she's frae Castle-Cary ;
It was then your true love I met by the tree !
Proud as her heart is, and modest her nature,
Sweet were the kisses that she gae to me !'
Sair gloom'd his dark brow, blood-red his cheek grew,
Wild flash'd the fire frae his red-rolling ee ;
" Ye's rue sair this morning, your boasts and your scorning,
Defend ye, fause traitor ; fu' loudly ye lie I"
< Awa wi' beguiling,' cried the youth, smiling :
Aff went the bonnet, — the lint-white locks flee —
The belted plaid fa'ing, her white bosom shawing,
Fair stood the loved maid wi' the dark-rolling ee !
" Is it my wee thing ? is it mine am thing ?
Is it my true love here that I see ?"
' Oh Jamie ! forgie me, your heart's constant to me :
I'll never mair wander, dear laddie, frae thee I'
BONNY DUNDEE.
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Her>- fint united with Buins's Verses.
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10
TAM GLEN.
THK SONG WRITTEN
BY BURNS.
My heart is a breaking-, dear titty,
Some counsel unto me come len' :
To anger them a' is a pity,
But what will I do wi' Tam Glen ?
I'm thinking, wi' sic a braw fellow,
In poortith I might mak' a fen' ;
What care I in riches to wallow,
If I manna marry Tam Glen?
There's Lowrie, the laird o' Drumeller,
" Good day to you," (coof,) he comes ben :
He brags and he blaws o' his siller,
But when will he dance like Tam Glen ?
My minny does constantly deave me,
And bids me beware o' young men ;
They flatter, she says, to deceive me,
But wha can think sae o' Tam Glen ?
My daddy says, gin I'll forsake him,
He'll gie me gude hunder marks ten ,-
But if it's ordain'd I maun tak him,
O wha will I get but Tam Glen ?
Yestreen at the Valentine's dealing,
My heart to my mou' gied a sten ;
For thrice I drew ane without failing,
And thrice it was written Tam Glen !
The last Halloween I was waukin
My droukit sark-sleeve, as ye ken ;
His likeness cam' up the house stalking,
And the very grey breeks o' Tam Glen I
Come counsel, dear titty, don't tarry ;
I'll gie you my bonny black hen,
Gin ye will advise me to marry
The lad I loe dearly, Tam Glen.
THE MUCKING OF GEORDIE'S BYRE.
THE SONG WRITTEN FOR THIS WORK
BY BURNS.
The Heroine of these admirable verses was Miss PhillisMacmurdo, Drumlanrig, who married Norman Lockhart, Esq.
Adown winding Nith I did wander,
To mark the sweet flowers as they spring
Adown winding Nith I did wander,
Of Phillis to muse and to sing.
Awa wi' your belles and your beauties,
They never wi' her can compare :
Whaever has met wi' my Phillis,
Has met wi' the queen o' the fair.
The daisy amus'd my fond fancy,
So artless, so simple, so wild ;
Thou emblem, said I, of my Phillis, —
For she is simplicity's child.
The rose-bud 's the blush of my charmer,
Her sweet balmy lip when 'tis prest :
How fair and how pure is the lily,
But fairer and purer her breast !
Yon knot of gay flow'rs in the arbour,
They ne'er wi' my Phillis can vie :
Her breath is the breath of the woodbine,
Its dewdrop of diamond her eye.
Her voice is the song of the morning,
That wakes through the green-spreading grove ;
When Phcebus peeps over the mountains
On music, and pleasure, and love.
But beauty how frail and how fleeting,
The bloom of a fine summer's day I
While worth, in the mind of my Phillis,
Will flourish without a decay.
Awa wi' your belles and your beauties,
They never wi' her can compare :
Whaever has met wi' my Phillis,
Has met wi' the queen o' the fair.
11
MY JO JANET.
' Sweet sir, for your courtesie,
When ye come by the Bass, then,
For the love ye bear to me,
Buy me a keeking glass then,' —
" Keek into the draw-well,
Janet, Janet ;
And there ye'll see your bonny sell,
My jo Janet !"
' Keeking in the draw-well clear,
What if I should fa' in, sir ?
Syne a' my kin will say an' swear,
I drown'd mysell for sin, sir.' —
" Haud the better by the brae,
Janet, Janet ;
Haud the better by the brae,
« My jo Janet."
' Good sir, for your courtesie,
Coming through Aberdeen, then,
For the love ye bear to me,
Buy me a pair of sheen, then.' —
" Clout the auld, the new are dear,
Janet, Janet ;
Ae pair may gain you half a year,
My jo Janet."
' But what if dancing on the green,
And skipping like a mawkin,
If they should see my clouted sheen,
Of me they will be tawkin.' —
" Dance aye laigh, and late at e'en,
Janet, Janet ;
Syne a' their fauts will no be seen,
My jo Janet."
' Kind sir, for your courtesie,
When ye gae to the cross, then,
For the love ye bear to me,
Buy me a pacing horse, then.' —
" Pace upo' your spinning-wheel,
Janet, Janet ;
Pace upo' your spinning-wheel,
My jo Janet. "
' My spinning-wheel is auld and stiff,
The rock o't winna stand, sir ;
To keep the temper-pin in tiff,
Employs aft my hand, sir.' —
" Mak' the best o't that ye can,
Janet, Janet ;
Mak' the best o't that ye can,
My jo Janet."
SONG FOR THE SAME AIR.
WRITTEN FOR THIS WORK
BY BURNS.
Husband, husband, cease your strife,
Nor longer idly rave, sir ;
Though I am your wedded wife,
Yet I am not your slave, sir.' —
" One of two must still obev,
Nancy, Nancy ;
Is it man or woman, say,
My spouse Nancy ?"
' If 'tis still the lordly word,
Service and obedience,
I'll desert my sovereign lord,
And so good-by, allegiance !' —
" Sad will I be so bereft,
Nancy, Nancy ;
Yet I'll try to make a shift,
My spouse Nancy."
' My poor heart then break it must,
My last hour, I am near it ;
When you lay me in the dust,
Think, think how you will bear it
" I will hope and trust in Heaven,
Nancy, Nancy ;
Strength to bear it will be given,
My spouse Nancy."
' Well, sir, from the silent dead,
Still I will try to daunt you ;
Ever round your midnight bed
Horrid sprites shall haunt you." —
" I'll wed another like my dear
Nancy, Nancy ;
Then all hell will fly for fear,
My spouse Nancy !"
11.
MY JO JANET.
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12 my peggy's face my peggy's form.
The Air &: Words first united in 1826.
Haydn.
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12
MY PEGGY'S FACE, MY PEGGY'S FORM.
WRITTEN
BY BURNS.
AIR— THE AULD GUDEMAN.
My Peggy's face, my Peggy's form,
The frost of hermit age might warm ;
My Peggy's worth, my Peggy's mind,
Might charm the first of human kind.
I love my Peggy's angel air,
Her face so truly heavenly fair,
Her native „grace so void of art ;
But I adore my Peggy's heart.
The lily's hue, the rose's dye,
The kindling lustre of an eye —
Who but owns their magic sway ? —
Who but knows they all decay ?
The tender thrill, the pitying tear,
The generous purpose, nobly dear,
The gentle look that rage disarms, —
These are all immortal charms.
VOL. II.
13
THE QUAKER'S WIFE.
THE SONG WRITTEN FOR THIS WORK
BY BURNS.
Blythe hae I been on yon hill,
As the lambs before me ;
Careless ilka thought and free,
As the breeze flew o'er me.
Now nae langer sport and play,
Mirth or sang can please me ;
Leslie is sae fair and coy,
Care and anguish seize me.
Heavy, heavy is the task,
Hopeless love declaring ;
Trembling, I do nought but glowr,
Sighing, dumb, despairing !
If she winna ease the throes
In my bosom swelling,
Underneath the grass-green sod
Soon maun be my dwelling !
THE QUAKER'S WIFE.
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As the breeze flew o'er ir»e.
Now nae lan«er sport and play, Or mirth or sang1 can please me;
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Vol: 2
14
THE BRAES O' BAI.WHIDDER
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THE BRAES OF BALWHIDDER.
WRITTEN
BY TANNAHILL.
Will ye go, lassie, go
To the braes o' Balwhidder,
Where the blae-berries grow,
'Mang the bonnie Highland heather ?
Where the deer and the rae,
Lightly bounding together,
Sport the lang simmer day
On the braes o' Balwhidder ?
I will twine thee a bower
By the clear siller fountain ;
And I'll cover it o'er
Wi' the flowers o' the mountain.
I will range through the wilds
And deep glens sae drearie,
And return wi' the spoils
To the bower o' my dearie.
When the rude wintry win!
Idly raves round our dwelling,
And the roar of the lin
On the night-breeze is swelling,
So merrily we'll sing,
As the storm rattles o'er us,
Till the dear shieling ring
Wi' the light lilting chorus.
Now the summer is in prime,
Wi' the flowers richly blooming,
And the wild mountain-thyme
A' the moorlands perfuming.
To our dear native scenes
Let us journey together,
Where glad innocence reigns
'Mang the braes o' Balwhidder.
15
O WELCOME HOURS OF SOCIAL NIGHT !
THE MELODY BY G. THOMSON — THE VERSES BY PROFESSOR SMYTH, 1830.
O welcome hours of social night !
The feast, the dance, the song ;
And love, with dreams of rosy light,
And pleasure's merry throng ;
Yes, welcome to my longing eyes,
The forms, the visions gay,
That save me from the cares that rise,
When comes the colder day.
Who counts the hour ? what's time to me ?
When friends I love are near ;
Whose lyre, whose song, whose mirth and glee,
Whose very look can cheer.
Oh ! may not hours be sometimes found,
Oh I sometimes sure they may,
Worth days and years that circle round
In dull life's tick-tick way.
Then leave me not I O fly not yet !
Ye Syrens, graces, dear ;
The sweetest hours in all the set
Are those now coming here : —
The little hours — a smiling train —
That move on noiseless feet,
And clear the world from care and pain,
When night and morning meet.
15 O WELCOME HOURS OF SOCIAL NIGHT.
The Mc'oHy by G. Thomson. _Tlie Song by WmSmyth Esq First pub'.' in 1829.
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ANDREW AND HIS CUTTY GUN
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Blithe was she hut and hen; Bhythe hy the hanks of Earn, And
16
ANDREW AND HIS CUTTY-GUN.
THE SONG WRITTEN
BY BURNS.
The heroine of this song was Miss Euphemia Murray of Lintrose.
Blythe, blythe, and merry was she,
Blythe was she but and ben,
Blythe by the banks of Earn,
And blythe in Glenturit glen.
By Ochtertyre grows the aik,
On Yarrow banks the birken shaw,
But Phemie was a bonnier lass
Than braes of Yarrow ever saw.
Blythe, blythe, and merry was she,
Blythe was she but and ben,
Blythe by the banks of Earn,
And blythe in Glenturit glen.
Her looks were like a flow'r in May,
Her smile was like a summer morn ;
She tripped by the banks of Earn,
As light's a bird upon a thorn.
Blythe, blythe, and merry was she,
Blythe was she but and ben,
Blythe by the banks of Earn,
And blythe in Glenturit glen.
Her bonnie face it was as meek
As ony lamb upon the lea !
The evening sun was ne'er sae sweet,
As was the blink o' Phemie's ee.
Blythe, blythe, and merry was she,
Blythe was she but and ben,
Blythe by the banks of Earn,
And blythe in Glenturit glen.
The Highland hills I've wander'd wide,
And o'er the Lawlands I hae been ;
But Phemie was the blythest lass,
That ever trode the dewy green.
THE OLD VERSES TO THE SAME AIR.
Blythe, blythe, blythe was she,
Blythe was she but and ben :
And weel she lik'd a Hawick gill,
And leugh to see a tappit hen.
She took me in, and set me down,
And heght to keep me lawin-free ;
But, cunning carline that she was,
She gart me birle my bawbee.
We loed the liquor weel eneugh ;
But, waes my heart ! the cash was done
Before that I had quench 'd my drowth,
And laith was I to pawn my shoon !
When we had three times toom'd our stoup,
And the neist chappin new begun,
In started, to heeze up our hope,
Young Andro' wi' his cutty-gun.
The carline brought her kebbuck ben,
With girdle-cakes weel toasted brown :
Weel does the canny kimmer ken
They gar the swats gae glibber down.
We ca'd the bicker aft about ;
Till dawning we ne'er jee'd our bun ;
And aye the clearest drinker out,
Was Andro' wi' his cutty-gurr.
He did like ony mavis sing,
And while upon his knee I sat,
He ca'd me aye his bonny thing,
And mony a kindly kiss I gat.
I hae been east, I hae been west,
I hae been far ayont the sun ;
But the blythest lad that e'er I saw,
Was Andro' wi' his cutty-gun.
17
DAINTY DAVIE.
THE SONG WRITTEN FOR THIS WORK
BY BURNS.
Now rosy May comes in wi' flowers,
To deck her gay green spreading bowers ;
And now come in my happy hours,
To wander wi' my Davie.
The crystal waters round us fa',
The merry birds are lovers a',
The scented breezes round us blaw,
A-wandering wi' my Davie.
* Chorus.
Meet me on the warlock knowe,
Dainty Davie, dainty Davie ;
There I'll spend the day wi' you,
My ain dear dainty Davie.
When purple morning starts the hare,
To steal upon her early fare,
Then through the dews I will repair,
To meet my faithful Davie.
When day, expiring in the west,
The curtain draws of Nature's rest,
I'll flee to's arms I loe the best,
And that's my ain dear Davie.
Chorus.
Meet me on the warlock knowe,
Dainty Davie, dainty Davie ;
There I'll spend the day wi' you,
My ain dear dainty Davie.
SONG ALTERED TO SUIT THE SAME AIR,
BY BURNS.
It was the charming month of May,
When all the flowers were fresh and gay,
One morning by the break of day,
The youthful charming Chloe,
From peaceful slumber she arose,
Girt on her mantle and her hose,
And o'er the flowery mead she goes,
The youthful charming Chloe.
Chorus.
Lovely was she by the dawn,
Youthful Chloe, charming Chloe,
Tripping o'er the pearly lawn,
The youthful charming Chloe.
The feather'd people, you might see,
Perch'd all around on every tree ;
In notes of sweetest melody
They hail the charming Chloe :
Till, painting gay the eastern skies,
The glorious sun began to rise ;
Out-rivalled by the radiant eyes
Of youthful charming Chloe.
Chorus.
Lovely was she by the dawn,
Youthful Chloe, charming Chloe,
Tripping o'er the pearly lawn,
The youthful charming Chloe.
DAINTY DAVIE. K.OZ,
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THE CAMPBELLS ARE COMING.
J-c> Tlie Song, the Sym? & Accomp? all new in 1828.
And the Song liere published hy express permission, 1899.
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18
SONG
ON THE HERO OF KILLIECRANKIE.
WRITTEN
BY SIR WALTER SCOTT, BART.
HERE PUBLISHED BY THE SPECIAL PERMISSION OF THE PROPRIETOR. 1831 .
AIR— THE CAMPBELLS ARE COMING.
WITH NEW SYMPHONIES AND ACCOMPANIMENTS, COMPOSED IN 1829.
i. o the Lords of Convention, 'twas Clavers who spoke,
Ere the King's crown go down, there are crowns to be broke ;
So each cavalier who loves honour and me,
Let him follow the bonnet of bonnie Dundee.
Come fill up my cup, come fill up my can,
Come saddle my horses, and call up my men —
Come open the West-Port, and let me gae free,
And it's room for the bonnets of bonnie Dundee.
Dundee he is mounted — he rides up the street —
The bells are rung backward — the drums they are beat ;
But the Provost, douce man, said, " Just e'en let him be,
The town is weel quit of that deil of Dundee."
As he rode down the sanctified bends of the Bow,
Ilk carline was flyting and shaking her pow ;
But the young plants of grace, they look'd couthie and slee,
Thinking, luck to thy bonnet, thou bonnie Dundee !
With sour-featured Whigs the Grassmarket was pang'd,
As if half the west had set tryste to be hang'd ; *
There was spite in each face, there was fear in each ee,
As they watch'd for the bonnets of bonnie Dundee.
These cowls of Kilmarnock had spits and had spears,
And lang hafted gullies, to kill cavaliers ;
But they shrunk to close heads, and the causeway was free,
At a toss of the bonnet of bonnie Dundee.
He spurr'd to the foot of the proud castle rock,
And to the gay Gordon he gallantly spoke —
" Let Mons Meg and her marrows speak twa words or three,
For love of the bonnets of bonnie Dundee."
The Gordon demands of him whither he goes.
" Where'er shall direct me the shade of Montrose ;
Your Grace, in short space, shall hear tidings of me,
Or that low lies the bonnet of bonnie Dundee.
" There are hills beyond Pentland, and lands beyond Forth ;
If there's lords in the lowlands, there's chiefs in the north ;
There are wild dunnie-wassels, three thousand times three,
Will cry hoigh ! for the bonnet of bonnie Dundee.
Away to the hills, to the caves, to the rocks,
Ere I own a usurper, I'll couch with the fox :
And tremble, false Whigs, though triumphant ye be,
You have not seen the last of my bonnet and me."
He waved his proud arm, and the trumpets were blown,
The kettle-drums clash'd, and the horsemen rode on,
Till on Ravelston-craigs, and on Clermiston lea,
Died away the wild-war notes of bonny Dundee.
Come fill up my cup, come fill up my can,
Come saddle my horses, and call up my men —
Fling all your gates open, and let me gae free,
For 'tis up with the bonnets of bonnie Dundee.
Till of late years the Grassmarket was the common place of execution in Edinburgh.
19
POVERTY PARTS GOOD COMPANY.
WRITTEN FOR THIS WORK, IN 1821,
By JOANNA BAILLIE.
AIR— TODLIN HAME.
It affords peculiar satisfaction to the Editor, to have obtained these uncommonly beautiful Verses for one of the most pleasing
of the Scottish Melodies ; — a Melody to which he must ever be partial, from a recollection of the matchless way in which
it was sung by the most exhilarating of all Scottish songsters, the late Mb James Bai four.
When white was my o'erlay as foam on the lin,"
And siller was chinking my pouches within;
When my lambkins were bleating on meadow and brae,
As I gaed to my love in new deeding so gay :
Kind was she, and my friends were free,
But poverty parts good company.
How swift pass'd the minutes and hours of delight,
When piper play'd cheerly, and cruisy burnt bright !
And link'il in my hand was the maiden so dear,
As she footed the floor in her holyday gear.
Woe is me ! and can it then be,
That poverty parts sic company !
We met at the fair, and we met at the kirk ;
We met i' the sunshine, we met i' the mirk ;
And the sound o' her voice, and the blinks o' her een,
The cheering and life o' my bosom hae been.
Leaves frae the tree at Martinmas flee,
And poverty parts sweet company.
At bridle and infare I've braced me wi' pride,-f-
The bruse I hae won, and a kiss of the bride ;f
And loud was the laughter gay fellows among,
When I utter'd my banter or chorus'd my song.
Dowie and dree are jesting and glee,
When poverty spoils good company.
Wherever I gaed the blythe lasses smiled sweet,
And mithers and aunties were unco discreet,
While kebbuck and beaker were set on the board,
But now they pass by me, and never a word
So let it be, — for the warldly and slie
Wi' poverty keep nac company.
But the hope of my love is a cure for its smart ;
The spaewife has tell'd me to keep up my heart ;
For wi' my last saxpence her loof I ha'e cross'd,
And the bliss that is fated can never be lost.
Cruelly tho' we ilka day see
How poverty parts dear company.
* O'erlay, a neckcloth.
-f- Infare, tho entertainment made for the reception of a bride in the house of the bridegroom.
X Bruse, a race at country weddings, tho winner of which has the privilege of saluting the bride.
THE OLD SONG, TODLIN HAME. ,
When I hae a saxpence under my thumb,
O then I'll get credit in ilka town ;
But aye when I'm poor they bid me gang by ;
O ! poverty parts good company !
Todlin hame, todlin hame,
Coudna my love come todlin hame?
Fair fa' the gudewife, and send her good sale j
She gies us white bannocks to drink her ale ;
Syne if her twopenny chance to be sma,'
We'll tak' a gude scour o't, and ca't awa.
Todlin hame, todlin hame,
As round as a neep we gang todlin hame.
My kimmer and I lay down to sleep
And twa pint stoups at our bed-feet ;
And aye when we waken'd, we drank them dry ;
What think ye of my wee kimmer and I ?
Todlin hame, todlin hame,
Sae round as my love comes todlin hame.
Leeze me on liquor, my todlin dow,
You're aye sae good-humour'd when weeting your mou';
When sober sae sour, ye'll feght wi' a flee,
That it's a blythe sight to the bairns and me,
When todlin hame, todlin hame,
When round as a neep ye come todlin hame.
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First Publisher) in 1822.
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SCORNFUL NANSIE.
WITH NEW VERSES,
HERE FIRST UNITED TO THE MUSIC, 1825.
I never said thy face was fair,
Thy cheek with beauty glowing ;
Nor whisper'd that thy woodland air
With grace was overflowing.
I never said thy teeth so white,
In hue were snow excelling ;
Nor call'd thine eye so blue, so bright,
Young Love's celestial dwelling.
I never said, that gentle breast
Contain'd a gen'rous spirit,
Or that the youth were doubly blest,
Who those soft smiles could merit.
I never said, to young or old,
I felt no joy without thee :
No, Nansie,' no — I never told —
A single lie about thee.
I never said thy voice was soft,
Soft heart but ill concealing ;
Nor praised thy sparkling glance, so oft,
So well thy thoughts revealing.
I never said thy taper form
Was, Nansie, more than handsome :
Nor said thy heart, so young, so warm,
Was worth a monarch's ransom.
THE OLD SONG TO THE SAME AIR.
This is one of the very pleasant songs of the olden time, which has come down to us hy means of Allan Ramsay, in whose
Tea- Table Miscellany it first appeared. Willy's account of his own descent, contrasted with that of Souple Sandy, his
rival, who had passed his infancy on his mother's back as a mendicant, is highly comic and natural. The humour of
the whole song, indeed, is lively, characteristic, and amusing ; but lest it be thought by some rather homely for the
modern drawingroom, the Editor has given the above little song for the choice of the Singer.
Nansie's to the greenwood gane,
To hear the gowdspinks chatt'ring,
And Willy he has followed her,
To gain her love by flatt'ring ;
But a' that he could say or do,
She geck'd and scorned at him ;
And aye when he began to woo,
She bade him mind wha gat him.
' What ails you at my dad,' quoth he,
' My minnie, or my aunty ?
With crowdy-moudy they fed me,
Lang kail and ranty-tanty ;
With bannocks of good barleymeal,
Of thae there was right plenty,
WTith chapped castocks butter'd weel,
And was not that right dainty ?
' Altho' my father was nae laird, —
'Tis daftin' to be vaunty, —
He keepit aye a good kail-yard,
A ha' house and a pantry ;
A good blue bonnet on his head,
An owrlay 'bout his craigy ;
And aye, until the day he died,
He rade on gude shanks' nagy.'
" Now, wae and wonder on your snout,
Wad ye hae bonny Nansie ?
Wad ye compare yoursel' to me ? —
A docken .till a tansy ?
vol. n.
I hae a wooer of my ain,
They ca' him Souple Sandy,
And weel I wat his bonny mou'
Is sweet like sugar-candy."
' Wow, Nansie, what needs a' this din ?
Do I not ken this Sandy ?
I'm sure the chief of a' his kin
Was Rab the beggar randy ;
His minnie, Meg, upon her back
Bare baith him and his billy :
Will ye compare a nasty pack
To me, your winsome Willy ?
' My gutcher left a guid braidsword,
/Tho' it be auld and rusty,
Yet ye may tak it on my word,
It is baith stout and trusty ;
And if I can but get it drawn,
Which will be right uneasy,
I shall lay baith my lugs in pawn,
That he shall get a heezy.'
Then Nansie turn'd her round about,
And said, " Did Sandy hear ye,
Ye wadna miss to get a clout,
I ken he disna fear ye :
Sae haud your tongue, and say nae mair,
Set somewhere else your fancy ;
For as lang's Sandy's to the fore,
Ye never shall get Nansie."
21
A SOLDIER AM I, &c.
WRITTEN BY WILLIAM SMYTH, ESQ.
AND HERE PUBLISHED BY HIS PERMISSION, IN 1822, WITH
THE AIR—" LUJIPS O' PUDDING."
A soldier am I, all the world o'er I range,
And would not my lot with a monarch exchange ;
How welcome a soldier wherever he roves,
Attended, like Venus, by Mars and the Loves ;
How dull is the ball, and how cheerless the fair,
What's a feast, or a frolic, if we are not there ;
Kind, hearty, and gallant, and joyous we come,
And the world looks alive at the sound of the drum.
" The soldiers are coming," the villagers cry,
All trades are suspended to see us pass by ;
Quick flies the glad sound to the maiden up stairs,
In a moment dismiss'd are her broom and her cares ;
Outstretch'd is her neck, till the soldiers she sees,
From her cap the red ribbon plays light on the breeze,
But lighter her heart plays, as nearer we come,
And redder her cheek at the sound of the drum.
The veteran, half-dozing, awakes at the news,
Hobbles out, and our column with triumph reviews ;
Near his knee his young grandson with ecstasy hears,
Of majors, and generals, and fierce brigadiers ;
Of the marches he took, and the hardships he knew,
Of the battles he fought, and the foes that he slew ;
To his heart spirits new in wild revelry come,
And make one rally more at the sound of the drum.
Who loves not a soldier — the generous, the brave,
The heart that can feel, and the arm that can save ;
In peace the gay friend, with the manners that charm.
The thought ever liberal, the soul ever warm ?
In his mind nothing selfish or pitiful known,
'Tis a temple which honour can enter alone ;
No titles I boast, yet wherever I come,
I can always feel proud at the sound of the drum.
SONG FOR THE SAME AIR.
WRITTEN FOR THIS WORK
BY BURNS.
Contented wi' little, and canty wi' mair,
Whene'er I forgather wi' sorrow and care,
I gie them a skelp as they're creeping alang,
Wi' a cog o' gude ale, and an auld Scottish sang.
I whiles claw the elbow o' troublesome thought,
But man is a soldier, and life is a faught :
My mirth and good humour are coin in my pouch,
And my freedom's my lairdship nae monarch dare touch.
A towmond o' trouble, should that be my fa',
A night o' gude fellowship southers it a' ;
When at the blithe end of our journey at last,
Wha the deil 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,
My warst word is " Welcome, and welcome again !"
21
A SOLDTER AM I.
Tbr Air and Vrri«-s hrrt- fir»t onitcrl.
A Soldier am I all the world oVr 1 ranife And wouM noi nn lot with a
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ROY'S WIFE OF ALDIVALLOCH.
WRITTEN
BY MRS GRANT, OF CARRON
Roy's wife of Aldivalloch,
Roy's wife of Aldivalloch,
Wat ye how she cheated me,
As I came o'er the Braes of Balloch ?
She vow'd, she swore she would be mine —
She said that she loed me best of ony ;
But, oh ! the fickle faithless quean,
She's ta'en the carle, and left her Johnie.
Roy's wife of Aldivalloch,
Roy's wife of Aldivalloch,
Wat ye how she cheated me,
As I came o'er the Braes of Balloch ?
O ! she was a canty quean,
And weel could she dance the Highland walloch :
How happy I, had she been mine,
Or I'd been Roy of Aldivalloch !
Roy's wife of Aldivalloch,
Roy's wife of Aldivalloch,
Wat ye how she cheated me,
As I came o'er the Braes of Balloch ?
Her hair sae fair, her een sae clear,
Her wee bit mou' sae sweet and bonny,
To me she ever will be dear,
Though she's for ever left her Johnie.
SONG FOR THE SAME AIR.
WRITTEN FOR THIS WORK
BY BURNS.
Canst thou leave me thus, my Katy,
Canst thou leave me thus, my Katy ?
Well thou know'st my aching heart.
And canst thou leave me thus, for pity ?
Is this thy plighted, fond regard,
Thus cruelly to part, my Katy ?
Is this thy faithful swain's reward —
An aching, broken heart, my Katy?
Canst thou leave me thus, my Katy,
Canst thou leave me thus, my Katy ?
Well thou know'st my aching heart,
And canst thou leave me thus, for pity ?
Farewell ! and ne'er such sorrows tear
That fickle heart of thine, my Katy !
Thou mayst find those will love thee dear-
But not a love like mine, my Katy !
23
MORAG.
THE SONG WRITTEN FOR THIS WORK.
BY BURNS.
(J wat ye wha that loes me,
And has my heart a-keeping ?
O sweet is she that loes me,
As dews o' summer weeping,
In tears the rosebuds steeping :
O that 's the lassie o' my heart,
My lassie, ever dearer ;
O that 's the queen o' womankind,
And ne'er a ane to peer her.
If thou shalt meet a lassie
In grace and beauty charming ;
That e'en thy chosen lassie,
Erewhile thy breast sae warming,
Had ne'er sic powers alarming :
O that 's the lassie, &c.
If thou hast heard her talking,
And thy attention 's plighted,
That ilka body talking
But her by thee is slighted,
And thou art all delighted :
O that 's the lassie, &c.
If thou hast met this fair one, —
When frae her thou hast parted,
If every other fair one,
But her, thou hast deserted,
And thou art brokenhearted :
O that 's the lassie, &c.
FOR THE SAME AIR.
BY BURNS.
Loud blaw the frosty breezes,
The snaws the mountains cover,
Like winter on me seizes,
Since my young Highland Rover
Far wanders nations over.
Where'er he go, where'er he stray,
May heaven be his warden ;
Return him safe to fair Strathspey,
And bonnie Castle-Gordon.
The trees now naked groaning,
Shall soon \vi' leaves be hinging !
The birdies dowie moaning,
Shall a' be blithely singing,
And ev'ry flow'r be springing.
Sae I'll rejoice the lee lang day,
When, by his mighty warden,
My youth 's return'd to fair Strathspey,
And bonnie Castle-Gordon.
23.
MORAG.
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•Vol -.2.
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24 FOR THE SAKE OK GOLD SHF.'s LEFT ME,
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For the sake of gold she's left me 0. And of all that's dear he_reft me
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0; She me for_sook for A_thols Duke And to endless woe she's left mf 0
A star and gar_ter have more art Than youth a true and faithful heart," For
''y/lj/lJl|gg
Vol: 2
24
FOR THE SAKE OF GOLD.
These Verses are said to have been written by the late Dr Austin, physician
in Edinburgh, upon losing the lady to whom he had paid his addresses, —
Miss Drummond of Megginch ; who was first married to the Duke of
Athol, and afterwards to Lord Adam Gordon. An old lady of the
Editor's acquaintance recollects a line of a song upon this celebrated beauty,
" Bonnie Jeanie Drummond, she tow'rs aboon them a'."
For the sake of gold she's left me,
And of all that's dear bereft me ;
She me forsook for Athol's duke,
And to endless woe she's left me.
A star and a garter have more art ,
Than youth, a true and faithful heart ;
For empty titles we must part ; '
For glittering show she's left me.
No cruel fair shall ever move
My injured heart again to love ;
Through distant climates I must rove,
Since Jeanie she has left me.
Ye Powers above, I to your care
Resign my faithless lovely fair ;
Your choicest blessings be her share,
Though she has ever left me.
25
JOHN, COME KISS ME NOW.
THE SONG WRITTEN
BY THOMSON.
If those who live in shepherd's bower,
Press not the rich and stately bed ;
The new-mown hay and breathing flower
A softer couch beneath them spread.
If those who sit at shepherd's board,
Soothe not their taste by wanton art ;
They take what Nature's gifts afford,
And take it with a cheerful heart.
If those who drain the shepherd's bowl,
No high and sparkling wines can boast ;,
With wholesome cups they cheer the soul
And crown them with the village-toast.
If those who join in shepherd's sport,
Gay dancing on the daisied ground,
Have not the splendour of a court,
Yet Love adorns the merry round.
SONG FOR THE SAME AIR.
BY BURNS.
In simmer when the hay was mawn,
And corn waved green in ilka field,
While clover blooms white o'er the lea,
And roses blaw in ilka bield ;
Blithe Bessie in the milking shiel,
Says, " I'll be wed, come o't what will !"
Out spak a dame in wrinkled eild,
' Of gude advisement comes na ill.
' It's ye hae wooers mony ane,
And, lassie, ye're but young, ye ken ;
Then wait a wee, and carnie wale
A routhie but, a routine ben :
There's Johnie o' the Buskie-glen,
Fu' is his barn, fu' is his byre ;
Tak this frae me, my bonnie hen,
It's plenty beets the lover's fire.' —
" For Johnie o' the Buskie-glen
I dinna care a single flie ;
He loes sae weel his craps and kye,
He has nae love to spare for me :
But blithe 's the blink o' Robie's ee,
And weel I wat he loes me dear ;
Ae blink o' him I wadna gie
For Buskie-glen and a' his gear."
' Oh ! thoughtless lassie, life's a feght,
The canniest gate, the strife is sair ;
But aye fu' han't is feghtin best,
A hungry care 's an imco care.
But some will spend, and some will spare,
And wilfu' fouk maun hae their will ;
Syne as ye brew, my maiden fair,
Keep mind that ye maun drink the ale !'
" O gear will buy me rigs o' land,
And gear will buy me sheep and kye ;
But the tender heart o' leesome love,
The gowd and siller canna buy :
We may be poor, my Rob and I,
Light is the burden love lays on :
Content and love bring peace and joy,
What mair hae queens upon a throne ?'
25.
JOHN, COMK KISS ME NOW.
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take what -Nature's gifts afford And take it with a cheerful hea
i<mc wrut .^aiures g-ins aitorrt rtnn take it with a cheerful heart.
26.
JOHN ANDERSON MY JO.
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John Andebson my Jo John,
We clamb the hill thegither;
And mony a canty day John,
We've had wi' ane anither:
Vol: 2.
Now we maun totter down, John,
But hand in hand we'll £0;
And sleep thegilher at the foot,
John Andekson, my Jo.
BURNS.
27.
LOW DOWN IN THE BROOM. FLEYEL.
daddy is a canker'd carle, He'll nae twine wi'his gear; My mirmy she's a scuttling wife, H»ds a' the house astee
But let them door let themsay, It's a' ane to me; FoThe's lowdown he's in the brooin, That's wait-lug on uie
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Waiting on memy love, He's waiting on me; For he's low down he's in the broom, That's waitiug on me .
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My Aunty Kate sits at her wheel,
And sair she lightlies me;
But weel ken I it's a' envy,
For ne'er a Jo has she .-
But let them, <fcc.
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My Cousin KATE was sair beguil'd,
Wi' JoHNY i' the glen;
And ay sinsyne she cries, "Beware
"Of false deluding menV
But let them, <fcc.
Vol : 2 .
Gleed SANDY he came west yestreen,
And speir'd when I saw PATE;
And ay sinsyne the neighbours round,
They jeer me ear' and late.
But let them, <fec.
LOGIE O' BUCHAN. K0<:
O LOGIE o» lilCHAN, O LOGIE the Laird, They've taen a„wa
O LOGIE o» BXTCHAW. O LOGIE the Laird, They've taen a— wa
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JAMIE that delv'd in the yard! Wha play'd on the pipe and the
35
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"' see tnee in spite 01 mem a'. *
•^ see thee in spite of them a', ny t)
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Vol: 2. ^
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28
LOGIE O' BUCHAN.
This song has been attributed to Lady Anne Lindsay, the accomplished
writer of Auld Robin Gray : but it certainly appeared before her time ;
although it is probable that the following version, the best which the
Editor has met with, owes its happiest touches to her pen.
'tis heee first published, 1831.
0 Logie o' Buchan, it's Logie the laird,
Has ta'en awa Jamie that delved in the yard !
Wha play'd on the pipe and the viol sae sma',
He has ta'en awa Jamie, the flower o' them a' :
Wha said, think na lang lassie when I'm far awa,
For I'll come and see thee in spite of them a'.
Though Sandy has horses, and houses, and land,
And Jamie has nought hut his heart and his hand ;
Yet his look is my life, and his wish is my law :
They have ta'en awa Jamie, the flower of them a.
He said, think na lang lassie when I'm far awa,
For I'll come and see thee in spite of them a'.
My daddie looks sadly, my mother looks sour,
They mock me wi' Jamie because he is poor ;
Though I like them as weel as a daughter can do,
They're nae half sae dear to me, Jamie, as you.
I'll keep up my heart although Jamie's awa,
For he'll come and see me in spite of them a'.
1 sit in the sunshine and spin on my wheel,
And think of the laddie that likes me sae weel,
And I think 'till my heart's fit to start into twa, —
They have ta'en awa Jamie, the flower of them a'.
But summer will come when cauld winter's awa,
And he'll come and see me in spite of them a'.
29
THE LOTHIAN LASSIE.
THE SONG WRITTEN FOR THIS WORK
BY BURNS.
Last May a braw wooer cam' down the lang glen,
And sair wi' his love he did deave me ;
I said there was naething I hated like men,
The deuce gae wi' him to believe me, believe me,
The deuce gae wi' him to believe me.
He spak o' the darts in my bonny black een,
And vow'd for my love he was dying ;
I said he might die when he liked for Jean :
The Lord forgie me for lying, for lying,
The Lord forgie me for lying !
A weel stocked mailin, himsel' for the laird,
A marriage aff hand, were his proffe"s :
I never loot on that I kent it, or cared,
But thought I might hae waur offers, waur offers,
But thought I might hae waur offers.
But what would ye think ? in a fortnight, or less,
The deil tak' his taste to gae near her !
He up the lang loan to my black cousin, Bess,
Guess ye, how (the jade !) I could bear her, could bear her,
Guess ye, how (the jade !) I could bear her.
But a' the niest week as I petted wi' care,
I gaed to the tryste o' Dalgamock,
And wha but my fine fickle lover was there ;
I glowr'd as I'd seen a warlock, a warlock,
I glowr'd as I'd seen a warlock.
But ower my left shouther I gae him a blink,
Lest neebours might say I was saucy ;
My wooer he caper'd as he'd been in drink,
And vow'd I was his dear lassie, dear lassie,
And vow'd I was his dear lassie.
I spier'd for my cousin fa' couthy and sweet,
If she had recover'd her hearing ;
And how her new shoon fit her auld shachl't feet ;
But, Heavens ! how he fell a-swearing, a-swearing,
But, Heavens ! how he fell a-swearing.
He begg'd for gude-sake ! I wad be his wife,
Or else I would kill him wi' sorrow :
So, e'en to preserve the poor body in life,
I think I maun wed him — to-morrow, to-morrow,
I think I maun wed him to-morrow.
29.
THE LOTHIAN LASSIE
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Vol: 2.
50- A1ST YE MEET A BONNY LASSIE. haybn.
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round thy head; At summer eve shalt thou be drest. |,
at summer eve snan. uiuu uc ui»i, _^ i ,
In autumn when the rustling leaf,
Shall warn us of the parting year;
I'll lead thee to yon woody glen,
The redbreast's ev'ning song to hear:
Vol: i.
And when the winter's dreary night,
Forbids us leave our shelter'd cot;
Then in the treasure of thy mind,
Shall Nature's charms be all forgot.
J. RIO HARDSON.
31
LULLABY OF AN INFANT CHIEF. roz.
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O hush thee my ba hie, Thy sire was a knight; Thy
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tow'rs which we see, They all are be., long-— ing dear ba— hie to thee
tow'rs which we see, They all are be— long_.ing dear TJa-.bfe to the"?.
Vol : 2 .
O fear not the bugle, tho' loudly it blows,
It calls bul the warders that guard thy repose;
Their bows would be bended, their blades would be red,
Ere the step of a foeman draws near to thy bed .
3r.d
O hush thee, my baby, the time soon will come,
When thy sleep shall be broken by trumpet and drum;
Then hush thee my darling, take rest while you may,
For strife comes with manhood, and waking with day.
SI K WALTER SCOTT
62
O THIS IS SO MINE AIN HOUSE. koz.
■■■^^ love is in her e'e. I see a form, I see a face, Ye
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weel may wi' tlie fair- est place; It wants to me the witching- grace, The
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liind loveT"that's in her e^e.
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Vol: 2.
32
O THIS IS NO MY AIN HOUSE.
THE SONG WRITTEN FOR THIS WORK
BY BURNS.
O this is no my ain lassie,
Fair though the lassie be ;
0 weel ken I my ain lassie,
Kind love is in her ee.
1 see a form, I see a face,
Ye weel may wi' the fairest place, —
It wants to me the witching- grace,
The kind love that 's in her ee.
O this is no my ain lassie,
Fair though the lassie be ;
Weel ken I my ain lassie,
Kind love is in her ee.
She's bonny, blooming, straight, and tall,
And lang has had my heart in thrall ;
And aye it charms my very saul,
The kind love that 's in her ee.
O this is no my ain lassie,
Fair though the lassie be ;
Weel ken I my ain lassie,
Kind love is in her ee.
A thief sae pawky is my Jean
To steal a blink by a' unseen ;
But gleg as light are lovers' een,
When kind love is in the ee.
O this is no my ain lassie,
Fair though the lassie be ;
Weel ken I my ain lassie,
Kind love is in her ee.
It may escape the courtly sparks,
It may escape the learned clerks ;
But weel the watching lover marks
The kind love that 's in her ee.
VOL. II.
FOR A' THAT AND A' THAT.
WRITTEN FOR THIS WORK
BY BURNS.
Is there for honest poverty
That hangs his head and a' that ?
The coward slave we pass him by,
We dare be poor for a' that I
For a' that, and a' that,
Our toils obscure, and a' that ;
The rank is but the guinea's stamp,
The man's the gowd for a' that. For a that, &;u.
What though on hamely 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 !
For a' that, and a' that,
Their tinsel show, and a' that,
The honest man, though e'er sae poor,
Is king o' men, for a' that. For a that, fyc.
Ye see yon birkie ca'd a lord,
Wha struts and stares, and a' that ;
Though hundreds worship at his word,
He's but a coof for a' that :
For a' that, and a' that,
His riband, star, and a' that,
The man of independent mind,
He ldoks and laughs at a' that. For a' that, Sfc.
A prince can make a belted knight,
A marquis, duke, and a' that,
But an honest man's aboon his might,
Gude faith he maunna fa' that I
For a' that, and a' that,
Their dignities and a' that ;
The pith of sense and pride of worth,
Are higher rank than a' that. For a' that, Sfc.
Then let us pray, that come it may,
As come it will for a' that,
That sense and worth, o'er a' the earth,
May bear the gree, and a' that I
For a' that, and a' that,
It's coming yet for a' that,
That man to man, the warld o'er,
Shall brothers be for a' that. For a' that, fyc.
33.
FOR A' THAT AND A' THAT.
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rank is but the guinea's stamp, The man's the govv'd for a' that.
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Vol : 2 .
# Such void's as cannot reach G, may singE.
34. WE'LL GANG NAE MAIR TO YON TOWN, koz:
fair., est maid's in yon town, That ev'n-.ing- sun is shin ing- on:
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blest ye flow'rs that round her blaw, Ye catch the glances of her e'e ! How
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dou.blv we. -come be the spring-, The sea. .son to my LlI-CY dear.
g^Jfrl^^l
Vol: 2.
34
WE'LL GANG NAE MAIR TO YON TOWN.
WRITTEN
BY BURNS.
O wat ye wha's in yon town,
Ye see the ev'ning sun upon ?
The fairest maid's in yon town
That ev'ning sun is shining on.
Now, haply down yon gay green shaw
She wanders by yon spreading tree ;
How blest, ye flowers, that round her blaw,
Ye catch the glances of her ee !
How blest, ye birds, that round her sing,
And welcome in the blooming year,
And doubly welcome be the spring,
The season to my Lucy dear !
The sun blinks blithe on yon town,
And on yon boimie braes of Ayr ;
But my delight in yon town,
And dearest joy, is Lucy fair.
Without my love, not a' the charms
Of Paradise could yield me joy ;
But gie me Lucy in my arms,
And welcome Lapland's dreary sky !
My cave would be a lover's bower,
Though raging winter rent the air ;
And she a lovely little flower
That I would tent and shelter there.
0 sweet is she in yon town,
Yon sinking sun's gane down upon ;
A fairer than's in yon town
His setting beam ne'er shone upon.
If angry fate is sworn my foe,
And suffering I am doom'd to bear,
1 careless quit aught else below,
But spare me, spare me, Lucy dear !
And while life's dearest blood is warm,
Ae thought frae her shall ne'er depart ;
For she, as fairest is her form,
She has the truest, kindest heart !
The heroine of the above song, Mrs Oswald of Auchincruive, formerly
Miss Lucy Johnstone, died in the prime of life at Lisbon. This most
accomplished and most lovely woman, was worthy of this beautiful strain
of sensibility, which will convey some impression of her attractions to
after generations. The poet, in his first fervour, thought of sending his
song to the heroine ; but gave up the idea, " because," said he, in a letter
to Mr Svme, " perhaps what I offer as the honest incense of genuine
respect, might, from the well-known character of poverty and poetry, be
construed into some modification of that servility which my soul abhors. "
35
KILLIKRANKIE— THE SOLDIER.
WRITTEN
BY WILLIAM SMYTH, ESQ.
What dreaming- drone was ever blest,
By thinking of the morrow ?
To-day be mine — I leave the rest
To all the fools of sorrow ;
Give me the mind that mocks at care,
The heart, its own defender ;
The spirits that are light as air,
And never beat surrender.
On comes the foe — to arms — to arms —
We meet — 'tis death or glory ;
'Tis Victory in all her charms,
Or fame in Britain's story ;
Dear native land — thy fortunes frown,
And ruffians would enslave thee ;
Thou land of honour and renown,
Who would not die to save thee ?
'Tis you — 'tis I — that meet the ball ;
And me it better pleases
In battle with the brave to fall,
Than die of cold diseases ;
Than drivel on in elbow-chair,
With saws and tales unheeded;
A tottering thing of aches and cares,
Nor longer loved, nor needed.
But thou — dark is thy flowing hair,
Thine eye with fire is streaming ;
And o'er thy cheek — thy looks — thine air,
Health sits in triumph beaming ;
Thou, brother soldier, fill the wine,
Fill high the wine to beauty,
Love, friendship, honour, all are thine,
Thy country and thy duty.
HAYDN.
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Now up in the morning's no for me, Up in the morn— ing
36
UP IN THE MORNING EARLY.
Part of the following first stanza was taken from an old song : The other stanzas were written
BY JOHN HAMILTON.
Cauld blaws the wind frae north to south,
The drift is driving sairly,
The sheep are coining in the heugh,
O, sirs I 'tis winter fairly.
Now, up in the morning 's no for me,
Up in the morning early,
I'd rather gae supperless to my bed,
Than rise in the morning early.
Loud roars the blast amang the woods,
And tirls the branches barely,
On hill and house hear how it thuds —
The frost is nipping sairly.
Now, up in the morning 's no for me,
Up in the morning early,
To sit a' night would better agree,
Than rise in the morning early.
The sun peeps o'er yon southlan' hills
Like ony timorous carlie,
Just blinks a wee, then sinks again,
And that we find severely.
Now, up in the morning 's no for me,
Up in the morning early,
When snaw blaws in to the chimly cheek,
Wha'd rise in the morning early ?
Nae Unties lilt on hedge or bush,
Poor things ! they suffer sairly,
In cauldrife quarters a' the night,
A' day they feed but sparely.
Now, up in the morning 's no for me,
Up in the morning early,
A pennyless purse I would rather dree,
Than rise in the morning early.
A cosey house and canty wife,
Aye keep a body cheerly,
And pantries stow'd wi' meal and maut,
They answer unco rarely.
But up in the morning — na, na, na ! .
Up in the morning early —
The gowans maun glent on bank and brae,
When I rise in the morning early.
SONG FOR THE SAME AIR.
BY BURNS.
And O for ane and twenty, Tarn !
And hey, sweet ane and twenty,
I'll learn my kin a rattling sang,
Gin I saw ane and twenty.
They snool me sair, and haud me down,
And gar me look like bluntie,
But three short years will soon wheel roun',
And then comes ane and twenty.
And O for ane and twenty, Tarn !
And hey, sweet ane and twenty,
I'll learn my kin a rattling sang,
Gin I saw ane and twenty.
A glebe o' land, a claut o' gear,
Was left me by my auntie,
At kith or kin I need na speir,
Gin I saw ane and twenty.
And O for ane and twenty, Tarn !
And hey, sweet ane and twenty,
I'll learn my kin a rattling sang,
Gin I saw ane and twenty.
They'll hae me wed a wealthy coof,
Though I mysell hae plenty ;
But hear'st thou, laddie, there's my loof,
I'm thine at ane and twenty !
37
HERE'S A HEALTH TO THEM THAT'S
AWA.
THE SONG WRITTEN FOR THIS WORK
BY BURNS.
Miss Lewars, now Mrs Thomson, of Dumfries, is the Jessy of this singu-
larly beautiful song. She was a true friend, and a great favourite of the
Poet ; and, at his death, one of the most sympathizing friends of his afflicted
widow.
Here's a health to ane I loe dear,
Here's a health to ane I loe dear ;
Thou art sweet as the smile when fond lovers meet,
And soft as their parting tear — Jessy.
Although thou maun never he mine,
Although even hope is denied;
'Tis sweeter for thee despairing,
Than aught in the world beside — Jessy.
Here's a health to ane I loe dear,
Here's a health to ane I loe dear ;
Thou art sweet as the smile when fond lovers meet,
And soft as their parting tear — Jessy.
I mourn through the gay gaudy day,
As hopeless I muse on thy charms ;
But welcome the dream o' sweet slumber,
For then I am lock'd in thy arms — Jessy.
Here's a health to ane I loe dear,
Here's a health to ane I loe dear ;
Thou art sweet as the smile when fond lovers meet,
And soft as their parting tear — Jessy.
I guess by the dear angel smile,
I guess by the love-rolling ee : —
But why urge the tender confession
'Gainst Fortune's stern, cruel decree ?
1
37. HERE'S A HEALTH TO THEM THAT'S AW.V. Kot:
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THE SUTOR'S DOUGH IKK
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38
THE SOUTER'S DOCHTER.
THE SONG WRITTEN
BY BURNS.
4
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Wilt thou be my dearie ?
When sorrow wrings thy gentle heart,
0 wilt thou let me cheer thee ?
By the treasure of my soul,
That's the love I bear thee !
1 swear and vow that only thou
Shall ever be my dearie ;
Only thou, I swear and vow,
Shall ever be my dearie.
Lassie, say thou loes me ;
Or if thou wiltna be my ain,
Sayna thou'lt refuse me.
If it winna, canna be,
Thou for thine may choose me ;
Let me, lassie, quickly die,
Trusting that thou loes me ;
Lassie, let me quickly die,
Trusting that thou loes me !
39
THE HIGHLAND LADDIE.
The Lawland lads think they are fine,
But O they're vain and idly gaudy ;
How much unlike the graceful mien,
And manly looks of my Highland laddie.
O my bonny Highland laddie,
My handsome charming Highland laddie ;
May Heaven still guard, and love reivard,
Our Lawland lass and her Highland laddie.
The brawest beau in burrow town,
In a' his airs, with art made ready;
Compared to him is buf a clown ;
He's finer far in 's tartan plaidy.
O my bonny, S/c.
O'er benty hill with him I'll run,
And leave my Lawland kin and daddy ;
Frae winter's cauld, and summer's sun,
He'll screen me with his Highland plaidy.
O my bonny, fyc.
If I were free at will to choose,
To be the wealthiest Lawland lady,.
I'd tak young Donald in his trews,
With bonnet blue and belted plaidy.
O my bonny, Sfc.
Nae greater joy I'll e'er pretend,
Than that his love prove true and steady,
Like mine to him, which ne'er shall end,
While heaven preserves my Highland laddie.
O my bonny, fyc.
SONG FOR THE SAME AIR.
BY R. B. SHERIDAN, ESQ.
Ah ! sure a pair was never seen
So justly form'd to meet by nature !
The youth excelling so in mien,
The maid in ev'ry graceful feature !
O how happy are such lovers,
When kindred beauties each discovers !
For surely she was made for thee,
And thou to bless this charming creature !
So mild your looks, your children thence
Will early learn the task of duty ;
The boys with all their father's sense,
The girls with all their mother's beauty !
O how charming to inherit
At once such graces and such spirit I
Thus while you live, may Fortune give
Each blessing equal to your merit I
39. THE HIGHLAND LADDIE. l'l^i.
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handsome charming- highland laddie, May heaven still i-uard and lose reward ()
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V handsome charming highland laddie, May heaven still guard and lose riwa*TT| . .jy'Uur
Vol: '2
40.
JINGLING JOHNIE
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40
JINGLING JOHNIE.
THE SONG WRITTEN FOR THIS WORK
BY BURNS.
This pleasing air, with the symphonies and accompaniments of Haydn, was first published in the folio work of the Edi-
tor, in 1817, instead of the air called Allan Water ; because the latter was found to exceed the compass of most voices,
and of course was very rarely sung.
By Allan stream I chanced to rove,
While Phoebus sunk beyond Benledi ;*
The winds were whispering through the grove,
The yellow corn was waving ready ;
I listened to a lover's sang,
And thought on youthful pleasures many ;
And aye the wild-wood echoes rang,
" O dearly do I loe thee, Annie."
O happy be the woodbine bower,
Nae nightly bogle make it eerie ;
Nor ever sorrow stain the hour,
The place and time I met my dearie !
Her head upon my throbbing breast,
She, sinking, said, " I'm thine for ever ! "
While many a kiss the seal imprest,
The sacred vow, we ne'er should sever.
The haunt o' spring 's the primrose brae,
The summer joy 's the flocks to follow ;
How 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 ?
* A mountain west of Strathallan, upwards of 3000 feet high.
SONG FOR THE SAME AIR.
WRITTEN
BY ROBERT CRAWFORD, ESQ.
What numbers shall the Muse repeat ?
What verse be found to praise my Annie ?
On her ten thousand graces wait ;
Each swain admires, and owns she's bonny.
Since first she trode the happy plain,
She set each youthful heart on fire ;
Each nymph does to her swain complain,
That Annie kindles new desire.
This lovely darling, dearest care,
This new delight, this charming Annie,
Like summer's dawn, she's fresh and fair,
When Flora's fragrant breezes fan ye.
All day the am'rous youths convene,
Joyous they sport and play before her ;
All night, when she no more is seen,
In blissful dreams they still adore her.
VOL. II.
Among the crowd Amyntor came ;
He look'd, he lov'd, he bow'd to Annie ;
His rising sighs express his flame,
His words were few, his wishes many.
With smiles the lovely maid replied,
" Kind shepherd, why should I deceive ye ?
Alas I your love must be denied,
This destin'd breast can ne'er relieve ye f
" Young Damon came, with Cupid's art,
His wiles, his smiles, his charms beguiling ;
He stole away my virgin heart, —
Cease, poor Amyntor, cease bewailing !
Some brighter beauty you may find,
On yonder plain the nymphs are many ;
Then choose some heart that's unconfin'd,
And leave to Damon his own Annie."
41
BONNIE PRINCE CHARLIE.
WRITTEN FOR THIS WORK IN 1830
BY DAVID VEDDER, ESQ.
Cam' ye by Athole, Donald Macgillavry,
Ken ye he's landed at Moidart, axild Carlie ?
Saw ye our mountain-men, marching by thousands ten,
Waving their broadswords, and shouting for Chai-lie ?
Follow thee — fly to thee — wha wadna fly to thee ? —
Speed to thy banner that's flaunting sae rarely ;
Charlie, Charlie, wha wadna die for thee,
Lord of our bosom's love, bonnie Prince Charlie ?
There's rushing of clans to the Chevalier's banner,
Like floods from the mountains in torrents descending ;
Their pennons are streaming, their broadswords are gleaming,-
Huzza ! the white rose wi' the heather is blending.
Follow thee, &c.
Welcome as light, sweet Flower, to the wilderness,
Long hast thou bloom'd in a far foreign garden ;
Bright eyes shall sun thee, and soft sighs shall fan thee,
The evergreen thistle shall aye be thy warden.
Follow thee, &c.
We'll rally around thee, true scion of royalty,
Reckless of home and our kindred's undoing ;
Prove with our good swords our faith and our loyalty,
Soar in thy triumphs, or sink in thy ruin !
Follow thee, &c.
41.
BONNY PRINCE C HA RLIF.
The Sym5. <fc Accom". new 1826.
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42.
GOOD NIGHT <V JOY-
"With new Verses — 1825.
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42
GOOD NIGHT AND JOY BE WI' YE.
WITH NEW VERSES WRITTEN
BY JOANNA BA1LLIE.
FIRST UNITED WITH THE All! IN 1825.
Xhe sun is sunk, the day is done,
E'en stars are setting- one by one ;
Nor torch nor taper longer may
Eke out the pleasures of the day ;
And since, in social glee's despite,
It needs must be, — Good night, good night !
And since, &c.
The bride into her bower is sent,
And ribald rhyme and jesting spent :
The lover's whisper'd words and few
Have bade the bashful maid adieu :
The dancing-floor is silent quite,
No foot bounds there, — Good night, good night !
The dancing-floor, &c.
The lady in her curtain'd bed,
The herdsman in his wattled shed,
The clansmen in the heather'd hall,
Sweet sleep be with you, one and all !
We part in hope of days as bright
As this now gone, — Good night, good night !
We part, &c.
Sweet sleep be with us, one and all ;
And if upon its .stillness fall
The visions of a busy brain,
We'll have our pleasure o'er again,
To warm the heart, to charm the sight,
Gay dreams to all, — Good night, good night !
To warm, &c.
BURNS'S FAREWELL
TO THE
BRETHREN OP ST JAMES'S LODGE, TARBOLTON,
AT THE TIME WHEN HE HAD RESOLVED ON GOING TO THE WEST INDIES.
THE SAME AIR.
Adieu I a heart warm fond adieu !
Dear brothers of the mystic tie !
Ye favour'd, ye enlighten'd few,
Companions of my social joy !
Though I to foreign lands must hie,
Pursuing Fortune's slidd'ry ba',
With melting heart, and brimful eye,
I'll mind you still, though far awa.
Oft have I met your social band,
And spent the cheerful festive night ;
Oft, honour'd 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 the 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 my pray'r when far awa.
And you, farewell ! whose merits claim,
Justly, that highest badge to wear I
Heaven bless your honour'd, noble name,
To Masonry and Scotia dear !
A 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.
43
WHA'LL BE KING BUT CHARLIE?
The news frae Moidart came yestreen,
Will soon gar mony ferlie ;
For ships o' war hae just come in,
And landed royal Charlie.
Come through the heather,
Around him gather,
Ye re a the welcomer early ;
Around him cling wi' a your kin,
For whdll be king but Charlie ?
Ilk Highland clan wi' sword in hand,
Frae John o' Groat's to Airly,
Hae to a man resolved to stand,
Or fa' wi' royal Charlie.
Come through the heather, Sfc.
The Lawlands a', baith great and sma',
Wi' mony a lord and laird, hae
Declared for Scotland's king and law,
And speir ye, wha but Charlie.
Come through the heather, fyc.
There's no a lass in a' the land,
But vows baith late and early,
To man she'll ne'er gie heart or hand,
Wha will na feght for Charlie.
Come through the heather, fyc. -
Then here's success to Charlie's arms,
And be it complete and early,
The very name our heart's blood warms,
To arms, to arms for Charlie !
Come through the heather,
Around him gather,
Ye' re d the welcomer early ;
Around him cling wi' a' your kin,
For whdll be king but Cfmrlie ?
WHA'LL BE KING BUT CHARLIE.
"With new Sym* <k Accom! — 1826.
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44. O GIN YE WERE DEAD GUDEMAN.
With new S^m! Accom* di Verses. 1826.
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mer_ry strain^ The blythest lad in all theland, Loe's me and I lo'e him again.
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Vol: 2.
44
A LOVE ADVENTURE.
FROM A MS. WRITTEN FOR THIS WORK
BY P. F. TYTLER, ESQ.
AIR— O GIN YE WERE DEAD, GUDEMAN.
The Symphonies and Accompaniments composed by Hujimel, in 1826.
At ev'n when on each heather bell
The diamond dewdrops gently fell,
And summer air was balm and still, —
Beside her cottage on the hill
Fair Jeanie sat, with rock in hand,
And spun, and sung her merry strain,
" The blithest lad in all the land
Loes me, and I loe him again."
Fresh from the town a coxcomb pert,
Attir'd by fashion's nicest art,
Pass'd where the pretty maiden sat,
And smirk'd and smiled, and dofF'd his hat ;
Then bow'd, and as he spoke, he sigh'd, —
" Oh, be not you a ploughman's bride,
But fly with me, — my chariot's near, —
You'll shine in silk, and be my dear."
To Jeanie's cheek the flush of shame,
And maiden pride and honour came ;
But checking all with pawky sleight,
She said, ' We canna meet the night ;
But come the morn, and crack your till,
When my auld daddy's at the hill ;
Tap gently, and wi' little din,
I'll lift the latch, and let you in.'
But Jeanie she took special care
That Jock, and Will, and twa three mair,
Her stout auld daddy, and his dogs,
Should ready be to pu' his lugs.
' Whene'er,' said she, ' he's on his knees
Clavering o' love, I'll gie a sneeze,
Then bang the door, let in the pack,
And hunt him weel — nor spare his back.'
When larks had sung their morning lay,
And rising dew refresh'd the day,
Our city spark pursued his way,
Bedeck'd like any popinjay ;
With powder'd pate, and broider'd vest,
And buckled bright each glossy shoe,
He reach'd the cot, and whisper'd — " Hist,
Hist, hist," — said Jeanie, ' Is it you ?
' Come in, come in, there's no a mouse
To frighten you in all the house.' —
" Thy daddy and the lads are ploughing.
Then we, my angel, must be wooing,"
Exclaim'd the coxcomb ; " what a crime
In lowly cot, and wintry clime,
So sweet and fair a flower to bury." —
Said Jeanie, ' I'm o'er young to marry.' —
" Marry, my love ! we canna wait,
We'll leave all that to time and fate ;
Haste, fly, and we shall all arrange ;"
' But, sir, I fear, " Oh, fear no change,
I swear" — and with expression sweet
Full lowly knelt he at her feet.
' Weel, weel,' quoth Jeanie, ' now I'm pleased,
I'll trust you' — and the gipsy sneezed.
Bang went the door — and all the rout
The caitiff seized, and turn'd him out ;
Men, women, weans, like ringing deils,
And dogs that bark'd and bit his heels.
' You hae my bairn, ye powder'd brock,'
Her daddy cried. — ' Tak that,' said Jock ;
' I'll dust your velvet coat, my billy :
' You touch my bonnie Jeanie— will ye ?'
As loud the gath'ring chorus rung,
Away before the pack he sprung,
And bounding headlong o'er the brae,
A muddy duck-pool met his way,
Wherein, so great his speed and fears,
He fairly plump'd up to the ears !
Thus may such base seducers ever
Conclude their love, — and cool their liver.
45
DUNCAN GRAY.
THE SONG WRITTEN FOR THIS WORK
BY BURNS.
Duncan Gray came here to woo,
Ha, ha, the wooing o't ;
On new-year's night, when we were fu',
Ha, ha, the wooing o't.
Maggie coost her head fu' heigh,
Look'd asklent and unco skeigh,
Gart poor Duncan stand abeigh ;
Ha, ha, the wooing o't.
Duncan fleech'd, and Duncan pray'd,
Ha, ha, the wooing o't ;
Meg was deaf as Ailsa Craig,*
Ha, ha, the wooing o't.
Duncan sigh'd, haith out and in,
Grat his een baith bleer't and blin',
Spake o' louping o'er a lin,
Ha, ha, the wooing o't.
Time and chance are but a tide,
Ha, ha, the wooing o't ;
Slighted love is sair to bide,
Ha, ha, the wooing o't.
Shall I, like a fool, quoth he,
For a haughty hizzie die ?
She may gae to — France for me !
Ha, ha, the wooing o't.
How it comes, let Doctors tell,
Ha, ha, the wooing o't.
Meg grew sick — as he grew heal,
Ha, ha, the wooing o't.
Something in her bosom wrings,
For relief a sigh she brings ;
And oh ! her een they spake such things !
Ha, ha, the wooing o't.
Duncan was a lad o' grace,
Ha, ha, the wooing o't.
Maggie's was a piteous case,
Ha, ha, the wooing o't.
Duncan couldna be her death,
Swelling pity smoor'd his wrath :
Now they're crouse and canty baith I
Ha, ha, the wooing o't.
* A great insulated Rock to the south t>f the Island of Arran.
45
DUNCAN GRAY CAME HERE TO WOO
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THE DUSTY MILLER.
The Song, the Sym? & Accomp^ -written for this work in 1829.
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When the stream is flow_ingWhen comes in the sil_ler, When the wheel is go_ing,
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I have gatherd posies
Ca'nst thou thus retiring
On a lonely mountain,
Live a life of duty,
F have seen sweet roses
I alone admiring
Near a rustio fountain
All thy worth and beauty.
Gay they were and blooming,
Humble is my dwelling,
Tho' no hand did raise them,
But I love thee dearly
•
All the air perfuming
All mv heart is swelling
Tho' no tongue did praise them.
Lassie. spe*k ,sinoerely.
W™ SMYTH
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47
LKW1E GORDON.
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Bonnet blue, and laigh heel'd shoes,
Philabeg ahoon his knee,
That's the lad that I'll gang wi\
0 hon 6ic.
This gallant youth of whom I sing,
Nature formd to be a king,
On his breast he wears a star,
Youd take him for the god of war.
O hon &e .
0 to see this princely one
Seated on a royal throne]
Disasters a' would disappear,
Then begins the jub lee year.
0 hon &c .
Vol: 2.
48
THOU'RT FAR AWA' FROM ME DONALD.
The Sonp, Sym* & Aicnnipi written lor this work in 1825.
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48
THOU'RT FAR AWA FRAE ME, DONALD.
WRITTEN FOR THIS WORK IN 1829
BY CAPTAIN CHARLES GRAY, R. M.
AIR— THOU'RT FAR AWA.
1 hou'rt far awa, far awa,
Far awa frae me, Donald ;
Sair I rue the waefu' day
That parted me from thee, Donald.
Blythe we met by Lochna-gair,
When baith were fancy free, Donald —
Life, with a' its coming care,
Seem'd bright as morning's ee, Donald.
Now sad to me's the gloaming hour,
Sad the trysting tree, Donald ;
Love's sweet spell has lost its power,
Since I lost sight of thee, Donald.
Wae betide the pennon gay,
The gowd that tempted thee, Donald ;
Dames mair dink may cross thy way,
But nane can love like me, Donald.
How oft I dream'd of happy hame,
When cheer 'd by love and thee, Donald,
Yet my lips ne'er breath'd the flame
That sparkled in my ee, Donald.
Thou hast dream'd of scenes mair bright,
Far ayont the sea, Donald ;
Thou art gone — and I the sleight
Of luckless love maun dree, Donald.
4-9
THE LAST TIME I CAME O'ER THE MUIR.
WRITTEN
BY ALLAN RAMSAY.
The Editor having observed that the second stanza of this admired Song, in
its original form, has always been passed over by young ladies, as exception-
able, he has therefore taken the liberty to substitute four lines of his own
at the beginning of that stanza, in the room of Ramsay's. It is so desirable
to prevent a standard old song from falling into neglect, that he hopes the
critical reader will tolerate the alteration which decorum required.
The last time I came o'er the muir,
I left my love behind me ;
Ye powers, what pain do I endure,
When soft ideas mind me !
Soon as the ruddy morn display 'd
The beaming day ensuing-,
I met betimes my lovely maid,
In fit retreats for wooing-.
We stray'd beside yon wandering stream,
And talk'd with hearts o'erflowing ;
Until the sun's last setting beam,
Was in the ocean glowing.
I pitied all beneath the skies,
Ev'n kings, when she was nigh me ;
In raptures I beheld her eyes,
Which could but ill deny me.
Should I be call'd where cannons roar,
Where mortal steel may wound me ;
Or cast upon some foreign shore,
Where dangers may surround me ;
Yet hopes again to see my love,
Unalter'd, true, and tender,
Shall make my cares at distance move.
Where'er I'm doom'd to wander.
In all my soul there's not one place
To let a rival enter ;
Since she excels in every grace,
In her my love shall centre.
Sooner the seas shall cease to flow,
Their waves the Alps shall cover,
On Greenland ice shall roses grow,
Before I cease to love her.
The next time I gang o'er the muir,
She shall a lover find me :
And that my faith is firm and pure,
Though I left her behind me.
Then Hymen's sacred bands shall chain
My heart to her fair bosom ;
There, while my being doth remain,
Mv love more fresh shall blossom.
EDINBURGH 1
1'IIINTRD 11V PAUANTYNE AND COMPANY,
I'AI'L'S WORK, CANONGATK,
FOR THE PROPIUKTOn, <i. THOMSON.
1851.
,50 THK LAST TIME I CAME O'ER THE MU1R. Haydn.
Vol : e :
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Si I'M O'ER YOUNG TO MARRY YKT.
The words altered from the old version by G-. Thomson. The Aimini! by G-. Hogvrt l>,l8.'4fJ-
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o'er young to marry yet, They tell me Sir'twou'd be a sin To tak me frae my
I'm o'er young, I'm o'er young,
I'm oer young to marry yet,
They tell me Sir 'twould be a sin
To tak me" frae my mammy yet .
Tho' Hallowmas is tnme and gane,
And nights are lang in winter Sir,
And you're sae fain I were your ain ,
In troth I'm fear'd to venture Sir.
Vol:?.
Im oer young, my mammy says,
I'm o'er young to marry yet,
I've been but three years in my teens,
Is n't rather soon to marry yet'?
Fu' loud and shrill the frosty wind
Blaws through the leafless timmer Sir.
But if you oome this gate again
I'll aulder be gin Simmer Sir.
THE MELODIES,
VOLUME SECOND.
INDEX TO THEIR NAMES IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER.
THE MELODIES, ACCORDING TO THE PRINCIPLES STATED IN THE DISSERTATION, MAY DE CLASSED IN THE
FOLLOWING MANNER : THOSE MARKED
A, as the oldest, and of remote antiquity.
B, as the productions of more recent periods.
C, as modern productions, not older than the 18th century.
„ ,r Marks above „
Names of the Melodies. c . . raffe.
referred to. °
Andrew and his cutty gun A 16
An' ye meet a bonny lassie B 30
Auld lang- syne A 19
A soldier am I B 21
Bonny Dundee A 9
Bonny Prince Charlie C 41
Caller herring C 4
Charlie is my darling C 1
Dainty Davie B 17
Duncan Gray B 45
For a' that and a' that B 33
For the sake of gold B 24
Fy gar rub her o'er wi' strae B 30
Goodnight and joy C 42
Here's a health to my true love . . . C 7
Here's a health to them that's awa . B 37
I had a horse, &c B 6
Jingling Johnie B 40
John Anderson, my Jo B 26
John, come kiss me now . . probably Welsh 25
Killiecrankie B 35
Lewie Gordon C 47
Logie o' Buchan A 28
Low down in the broom B 27
Lullaby of an infant chief B 31
Lumps o' pudding C 21
„, Marks above
Names op the Melodies. referreJ to.
Morag Highland
My jo Janet B
O gin ye were dead, gudeman . . . . C
O, this is no my ain house B
Poverty parts good company (Todlin
hame) C
Roy's wife B
Rise up and bar the door A
Scornful Nansie A
Social night C
Tarn Glen A
The auld gudeman C
The braes of Balwhidder C
The Campbell's are coming C
The dusty miller C
The Glasgow lasses C
The Highland laddie C
The last time I came o'er the moor . B
The live long night Welsh
The Lothian lassie A
The mucking o' Geordie's byre ... A
The Quaker's wife B
The shepherd's son B
The siller crown A
The souter's dochter C
Thou'rt far awa from me, Donald . . C
Up in the morning early B
We'll gang nae mair to yon town . . C
Wha'll be king but Charlie C
Page.
23
11
44
32
19
22
8
20
15
10
12
14
18
46
2
39
50
48
29
10
13
5
1
38
48
36
34
43
THE POETRY
VOLUME SECOND.
INDEX TO THE FIRST LINE OF EACH OF THE SONGS.
FIRST LINES. AUTHORS. PAGE.
Adieu, a heart-warm fond adieu Burns .... 42
Adown winding Nith, &c Ditto .... 10
Ah, sure a pair, &c Sheridan . . 39
And O for ane and twenty, &c. . Burns .... 36
And ye shall walk, &c Anon 1
A soldier am I, &c Smyth, W. .21
At even, when on each heather, &c. Tytler .... 44
Blythe, hlythe, and merry, &c. . Burns .... 16
Blythe, blythe, blythe was she . Anon 16
Blythe hae I been, &c Bums .... 13
By Allan stream, &c Ditto 40
Came ye by Athole Vedder .... 41
Canst thou leave me, &c Burns .... 22
Cauld blaws the wind, &c. . . . Hamilton, J. 36
Contented wi' little, &c Burns .... 21
Does haughty Gaul, &c Ditto 8
Duncan Gray, &c Ditto 45
For the sake of gold, &c Anon.
24
Here's a health, ,&c Burns .... 37
How cruel are the parents, &c. . Ditto 25
Husband, husband, &c. Ditto 11
If those who live, &c Thomson ... 25
I never said thy face was fair . . Anon 20
In summer, when the hay, &c. . Burns .... 25
John Anderson, my Jo Ditto 26
Is there for honest poverty . . . Ditto 33
It was, the charming month, &c. Ditto 17
Last May, &c Ditto
Let not woman, &c Ditto
Loud blaw the frosty breezes . . Ditto
29
28
23
My daddy, &c Anon 27
My heart is a breaking, &c. . . . Burns .... 10
My Peggy's face, my Peggy's form Ditto 12
Nancy's to the greenwood gane . Anon 20
FIRST LINES.
Now rosy May, &c. . .
O Charlie is my darling
O hush thee, my babie
O Logie o' Buchan, &c
O Mary at thy window be ... .
O Nancy, &c
On a bank of flowers, &c
O poortith cauld, &c
O send Lewie Gordon hame . .
O this is no my ain lassie . . . .
O wat ye wha's in yon town . .
O wat ye wha that loes me . . .
O welcome, hours of social night
AUTHORS. PAGE.
Burns .... 17
Anon 1
Scott, Sir W. 31
Anon 28
Burns .... 2
Richardson . 30
Bums .... 11
Ditto 6
Anon 47
Burns .... 32
Ditto 34
Ditto 23
Smyth .... 15
Roy's wife, &c Grant, Mrs . 22
Saw ye my wee thing, &c Macneil ... 8
Should auld acquaintance, &c. . . Burns ... . 19
Sweet sir, for your courtesie, &c. Anon 11
The gowan glitters, &c
The Lowland lads, &c
The last time I came o'er, &c. . .
The lazy mist, &c
There dwelt a man
Their groves of sweet myrtle . .
The news frae Moidart, &c. . . .
The sun is sunk
Thou'rt far awa from me, Donald
To the Lords of Convention, &c.
Truehearted was he, &c
Baillie, Joanna 5
Anon 39
49
Ramsay
Burns .
Anon. .
Burns .
Anon. .
Baillie, Joan. 42
Gray, Capt . 48
Scott, Sir W. 18
Burns .... 9
7
8
4
43
What numbers shall, &c Crawford, Mr 40
What dreaming drone, &c Smyth .... 35
When I hae a saxpence, &c. . . Anon 19
When white was my o'erlay, &c. Baillie, Joan. 19
When the stream is flowing . . . Smyth .... 46
Will ye go, lassie, go, &c Tannahill . . 14
Wilt thou be my dearie ? . . . . Burns .... 38
Ye shepherds, &c Hamilton, W. 34
4
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