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3owER Of Bessy Bell %]^aryGray". 




Book of Scottish Sono; 

A comprehensive collection 







BLACKIE and son, paternoster ROW; 


OF THE ^ ^ 






[Wkittkn for this Work by John Imlah.] 

Aui.D Scotia's Pangs ! Auld Scotia's Sangs .'—the strains o' youth and yore!- 
O lilt to me, and I will list -will list them o'er and o'er; 
Though mak' me wae, or mak' me wud,-or changefu' as a child. 
Yet lilt to me, and I will list -the "native wood notes wild! " 

They mak' me present wi' the past -they bring up, fresh and fiilr. 
The Bonnie Broom o' Cowden Knowes, the Bush abune Traquair, 
Tlie Dowie Dens o' Yarrow, or the Birks o' Invermay, 
Or Catriue's green and yellow Woods in autumn's dwinlng day ! 

They bring me back the holms and howes whar sillar burnies shine. 
The Lea-rig whar the gowans glint we pu'd in Auld Lang Syne ; 
And, mair than a', the Trystin' Thorn that blossom'd down the rale, 
Whar gloamin' breathed sae sweetly- but far sweeter luve's fond tale! 

Now melt we o'er the lay that wails for Flodden's day o' dule,— 
And now some rant will gar us loup like daffin' youth at Yule ; — 
Now o'er young luve's impassion'd strain our conscious heart will yearn,— 
And now our blude fires at the call o' Bruce o' Bannockburu! 

O: lovely in the licht o' sang the Ettrick and the Tweed, 

Whar shepherd swains were wont to blaw auld Scotia's lyric reed ; — 

The Logan and the Lugar, too, but, hallow'd meikle mair. 

The Banks and Braes o' Bonnie Douu,-the Afton and the Ayr! 

The hind whase hands are on the pleugh-the shepherd wi' his crook - 
The maiden o'er the milkin' pail, or by the ingle neuk, 
Lo'e weel to croon auld Scotia's sangs-O may they ever sae! 
And it may be a daffin' lilt - may be a dowie lay! 

Though warldly grief and warldling's guile maun I like ithers dree, 
Maun thole the sair saigh rive my breist - the het tear scald my e'e ! 
But let me list the melodies o' some o' Scotia's sangs, 
And I will a' forget my waes -will a' forgie my wrangs! 

O! bom 0' feeling's warmest depths -o' fancy's wildest dreams, 
They're twined wi' monie lovely thochts, wi' monie lo'esomo themes; 
They gar the glass o' memorie glint back wi' brichter shine 
On far-aflf scenes, and far-aff friends - and Auld Lang Syne ! 

Auld Scotia's Sangs!— Auld Scotia's Sangs ! -her " native wood notes wild !" 

Her monie artless melodies, that move me like a child ; 

Sing on- sing on ! and I will list - will list them o'er and o'er, - 

Auld Scotia's Sangs-Auld Scotia's Sangs! the sangs o' youth and yore! 



^ong stDtrtens toil, botocbrr robe the lonnd: 
g-ll at bcr feork tbe billagc mnibrn sings: 

|lor, inhilt sbt turns tbt gibbp fobttl aronni, 
?5cbolbes tbe sab birissitubt of thtnos. 


This work was undertaken with the object of laying before the public, in a 
single volume, and at a moderate price, a comprehensive collection of the 
Songs of Scotland, ancient and modern, accompanied with such particulars 
regarding their history, age, or authorship, as could be gathered from the liter- 
ary records of the country, or might be elicited from personal inquiry and 
research among the lovers of song. It may excite surprise to know, but 
nevertheless it is undeniable, that no publication of the kind here aimed at, 
whether as regards extent of design in text and commentary, or adaptation in 
size and price for general circulation, has hitherto been attempted, amid the 
multifarious song-collections that have issued from the press. Ritson, near the 
close of the last century, was the first, as an editor of Scottish song, who endea- 
voured to ascertain the age and authorship of the pieces in his work,* and his 
example has been followed by one or two other editors ; but the compilations 
adverted to are at once limited in their range, and removed by their cost be- 
yond the reach of ordinary purchasers. Ritson's collection did not, in all, 
amount to more than one hundred and eighty songs, and the collections of 
succeeding editors, though in some instances extending to several volumes, do 
not in any case contain one half of the number of songs given in the present 

The great majority of song books, whether of elegant or humble exterior, 
display, as everybody must be aware, a total want of anything like histori- 
cal or biographical information : even the names of the authors are in most 
instances dispensed with ; and, altogether, the songs are in general collected 

• ' Scottish Songs : In Two Volumes, London MDCCXCIV.' Misprint in title page of first 
volume, ' MDCCXIV ! ' It is amusing to contemplate what effect this blunder, when dia- 
covered, would have upon a man of Kitson's excessive love of accuracy, punctilious adher- 
ence to literal facts, and infirmity of temper. 

and distributed with the disdainful indifferenoe thai might be suppoaed to 
accompany the handling of a pitchfork. One conBequeuoe of thi» iM, tbat» pat- 
ing aside those of modem date, a wide-spread ignoranoe prevails w ar d in g the 
history of most of our lyrics ; and on no literary points of inqtdxy, we Tentnrt 
to say, is more darkness to be found, even among the well-informed and intelli- 
gent classes, than on those connected with the songs of fajgooe genentkna. 
All that people, in most cases, can say of any one of t&em hi, that it is an 
'old' song, because they know it was a favourite with their grandmother, or 
because they may happen to have it in some old collection ; but as to its pndat 
antiquity, or any other point of its history, they are wholly onaoqnainted. It 
has been one leading object of the present work to fix, as fur as possihto, the 
date and authorship of all the lyrics quoted, so tliat the reader may be pot in 
Ix)S8ession of what is positively known regarding the ancient as well as modem 
Songs of Scotland. By stating where a song first appeared, or in wliat pabU* 
cation it was first printed, some definite notion is obtained as to its afs ; and 
even in those cases where its original appearance cannot be tiaoed, the reader 
has at least the comfort of being assured, that be knows all that ia to be known 
on the subject. 

The difficulties encountered in following np the ambitioaa derign of this 
work, of giving at once a complete and unobjectionable colleetfcin of Boottiih 
Song, accompanied with illustrative notices, could notbeieadHycomptehsnded 
by any but those who are in some measore Jluniliar with the wide field of 
research— (rugged, dark, and dangerous in many places, tboo^ stodded bj 
numberless spots of delicious verdure)— over which it waa neoeeeary to wan- 
der; and it would be idle here, if not ungracions, to insist en the sabjeet. 
Whatever, at all events, might be the difficulties encountered in accomplishing 
a work which, though small in bulk, is more comprehensive in its scope and 
complete in its aim than any of a similar character hitherto attempted, the 
Editor ia desirous of acknowledging that these difficulties were met under the 
most favourable auspices. From the first he has been enconraged in his 
labours by the interest which many of his cotrntr^men have manifested in 
the work, attaching to it the importance of a national repoeitoiy, and by 
the liberality with which the most successful song-writers of the day hare 
permitted him to quote their verses. In the mmiber of those who have h<m- 
oured him with then- correspondence, he has, besides, been fortunate. To 
Captain Charles Gray, R.M., in particular, he has been largely indebted for 
many valuable communications on the subject of Scottish song — a subject on 
which the Captain's enthusiasm and information go liand in hand as well aa 

for pointing out and furnishing a number of useful authorities. He has also 
to express his obligations to Alexander Laing, Esq., David Vedder, "Esq., 
Patrick Maxwell, Esq., Thomas C. Latto, Esq., Robert White, Esq., Dr. 
Andrew Crawford, and various other correspondents in a lesser degree, for 
serviceable information in the course of his labours. 

The Book of Scottish Song contains, in all, somewhere about twelve 
HUNDRED AND SEVENTY songs ; and it is presumed that every standard lyric 
in the language — every song of established reputation — is included within its 
pages. Some omissions may possibly have been made ; but the Editor trusts 
that they are of a very unimportant character.* A large number of the songs 
in the collection are taken from hitherto unexplored sources, and may be con- 
sidered (to use Coleridge's phrase) as good as manuscript. Another portion, 
though not so large, are bona fide ' originals,' that is to say, they have the 
claim to originality at least, in having been here first printed. Of this portion, 
about ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY in all, many, it is confidently trusted, will be 
admitted even by the most fastidious, to possess very superior merit ; while the 
whole, though forming but a subordinate feature of the work, will be found, 
it is hoped, to add no inconsiderable or unworthy heap to the lofty and ever- 
accumulating cairn of Scottish song. 

In order that the reader might possess a connected history of the lyric poetry 
of the country, we have drawn out an Essay on the Song- writers of Scotland, 
which will be found to follow the Preface, and which embraces summaries of 
the lives of those poets who have distinguished themselves in the province of 
Song. This Essay did not appear in the earlier impressions of the work, 
from a desire to avoid undue extension ; but it was thought advisable sub- 
sequently to extend the book an additional sheet, so as to admit the Essay, 
wldch, it is trusted, will prove of service to the reader, and give completeness to 

* The Index of First Lines, which is constructed on the strictest alphabetical arrange- 
ment, and given at the end of the volmne, will be the reader's best guide for finding out 
any particular song. In cases where the first line is not known or remembered, the Index of 
Authors may be of service. The Index of Titles which is prefixed to the volume will to some 
afford the easiest means of reference, though from their character being often somewhat in- 
definite, it is far from being certain. In consulting the Index of First Lines, great accuracy 
is of course necessary on the part of the consulter as to the opening word, otherwise he 
may be disappointed in his search, and hastily conclude that the song he wants is not in 
the book, while it actually is. The omission or addition of the exclamation ' ' at the 
beginning of a song may, for example, lead him wrong. When he is not Bui'c in cases of 
this kind, he had better try the line with and without the ' 0.' 

the collection. It only remains iu this place to take a brief chroookgloid Tkw of 
the leading authorities in Scottish song to which this compilation has been inUbtr 
ed, beginning with the earliest traces to be foond on record of the lyrical moM. 
A love of music and song can be traced in the earliest Uteiatara of SooUand, 
in the works of James I., Dunbar, and Gawin Douglas; and the mmgn ot 
these days seem to have been characterized by a gay and Jovial spirit, little 
in accordance with the alleged austerity of the national cfa«racter. In 
' Peebles to the Play * (ascribed to Jamee I., 1424-37), two aonga are men- 
tioned as being then in popular use:— 'There fore ane man to the liolt' 
(There went a man to the wood), and ' There shall be mirth at oor meeting 
yet.' These songs, which are both lost, may be called the first of which wo 
have any notice, with the exception of a rhyme mentioned by Andrew Wjn- 
ton, made on the death of Alexander III. (1286), and two or three taunting 
doggrels made by the Scots on the English, especially one on the aiego of 
Berwick (1296), and one on the victory of Bannockbom (1314), nana of which 
can properly be considered in the light of song, according to our i noiia n i mean- 
ing. About the same time as the reign of Jamee I., or a little latar, a hnmor- 
ous poem was composed, called 'Cockelby's Sow* (preserved in the Banna- 
tyne MS.), which refers to a number of songs and tones then in popular use- 
such as 'Joly Lemmane,' 'Tras and Trenass,' 'The Baas,' 'Trolly Lolly,' 
*Cok craw thou qll day,' 'Twysbank,' 'Terway,' « Be yon wodsyd,' ' Lait, 
lait in evinnynis,' ' Joly Martene with a mok,' ' Rusty Bully with a bek,' 
&c. Of all these the words are lost, and if the tunes exist, they do so, with ona 
or two exceptions, under different titles. The next intimation of song whioh 
occurs in our literature is in Gawin DougLis's prologues to bis translation of 
Virgil, written about 1512,* wherein four different songs are adTerted' to, Tia. 
' The ship sails ower the saut faem,' ' I will be blithe and licht,' * I oomo 
hither to woo,' and ' The joly day now dawis.' All these are lost, unless a 
fragment preserved in the Fairfax MS., beginning, 

' This day day dawes, this gentil day dawes, and I most home fone, 

belong to the latter. ' The day dawes ' was long a popxilar tune in Scotland. 
In 1549 was printed at St. Andi-ews a curious work entitled ' Vedderbum's 
Complaiute of Scotlande,' in which are preserved the titles of no less than 

* Mr. Danney, in his valuable Introduction to ' Ancient Scottish Melodies, from a W^ ot 
the reign of king James TI.,' p. 47, gives some fragments of song found in tb« Minnie Book 
of Burgh Sasines of Aberdeen. 1503-07! Mr. Dauney'g publication proves beyond all 
question the antiquity of a number of our finest Scottish sirs. 

thirty-seven songs. "We are tempted to quote these, although pressed for 
room; for a melancholy interest, we consider, attaches itself to even the 
titles of lays that charmed or cheered our ancestors three hundred years ago. 
— * Pastance vitht gude companye,' ' The bretr byndes me soir,' ' Still vnder the 
leyuis grene,' ' Cou thou me the raschis grene,' ' Allace I vyit zour tua fayr 
ene ' * Gode zou gude day vil boy,' * Lady help zour prisoneir,' ' King Vilzamis 
note,' * The laug noune nou,' ' The cheapel valk,' ' Faytht is there none,' ' Skald 
a bellis nou,' * The Aberdenis nou,' ' Brume, brume on hil,' * Allone I veip in 
grit distress,' ' Trolee, lolee lemendou,' * Bill vill thou cum by a lute and belt 
thee in Sanct Francis cord,' ' The fi-og cam to the myl dur,' ' The sang of Gil- 
quiskar,' ' Rycht soirly musing in my mynd,' ' God sen the Duke had bidden in 
France, and Delabaute had nevyr cum hame,' * Al musing of memellis a mys 
hef I gone,' ' Maestress fayr ze vil forfoyr,' * O lusty May vitht Flora queue,' 

* O myne harte hay this is my sang,' * The battel of the Hayrlaw,' ' The huntis 
of Cheuet,' * Sal I go vitht you to Rumbelo fayr,' * Greuit is my sorrow,' * Tume 
the sweit ViUe to me,' ' My lufe is lyand seik, send him joy, send him joy,' 

* Fair luf lend thou me thy man til joy,' ' The Persee and the Mongumrye met, 
that day, that gentil day,' * My luf is layd upone ane knycht,' * Allace that 
samyn sweit face,' * In ane mirthful morou,' ' My hart is leinit on the land.' — Of 
these songs, all are lost, with the exception of * Still under the leaves green,' 
' Cull to me the rushes green,' * O lusty May with Flora queen,' ' Grieved is 
my sorrow,' and the three historical ballads, * The battle of Harlaw,' * The 
Himts of Cheviot,' and ' The Percy and the Montgomery.' Some of them, 
liowever, are found parodied in * A Compendious Book of Godly and Spiritual 
Songs, collected out of sundrie parts of the Scripture, with sundrie of other 
ballats, chainged out of profane Songs, for avoiding of Sinne and Harlotrie,' 
printed in 1590 and 1621. (See Note to * John come kiss me now,' p. 578.) 

The earliest song book published in Scotland was a musical collection, entitled, 
'Cantus, Songs, and Fancies to several Musical Parts, both apt for Voices 
and Viols,' &c., printed by John Forbes, Aberdeen : first edition, 1662; other 
editions, 1666 and 1682. This collection, however, does not contain, pro- 
perly speaking, a single Scottish song or Scottish melody, for it was not till 
nearly half a century later that the national music became fashionable. Some 
of the songs are taken from the ' Compendious Book of Godly and Spiritual 
Songs,' mentioned above, and other words are quoted from, the old Scottish 
poets of the previous century : the music is chiefly English, and apparently 
adapted for church service. 

About the close of the seventeenth century, a taste for Scottish music 

became prevalent among the upper claasee of aociety, and Soottiah ain i 
introduced at all places of public amusement in London and elMwherB. 
D'Urfey, an obscene humoriat of this period, wrote seTend imitayoiM of { 
tish song, all of which are to be found in his * Pills to Poiso MdandMly/ 
collected in six toIs., 1719 ; and his example was followed bj other Laaidott 
poetasters. These ' Anglo- Scotti&h ' productions (as Bunu calls them) are 
generally of the most execrable character ; but we have been oUiged to giro 
in the present collection two or three of the best, as thej at one time held an 
established place among our Scottish songs. (See Notes to 'Jockey met wi' 
Jeuny/ p. 145, ' Diel tak' the wars,' p. 177, ' As Jamie G^y ganffd Mythe hia 
way,' 176, 'My Jeanie and I,' 317, 'Glancing of her Aptrcm,' 622, * Sweet 
Annie,' 550, &c.) A single verse of one of Tom D'Urfey's * Sooteh Sonfi ' may 
be given here as a specimen of the whole. It is the original of * Within a mile 
of Edinburgh town.' 

• 'Twas within a furlong of Edinboronirh town. 
In the rosie time of the year when the grass was down: 
Bonnie Jockey, blylhe and gay, 
Said to Jenny TuaHng ixay, 
Let's sit a little, dear, and prattle; 
'Tis a sultry day : 
He long had coorted the black-brow'd maid. 
Bat Jockey was a wag and would ne'er eonscBt to wed; 
Which made her pshaw and phoo. and cry ont it will not do^ 
I cannot, cannot, cannot, wonnot, monnot buckle too. 

' He told her marriage was grown a meer Joke, 

And that no one wedded now bat the sconadnl folk,* 

In 1706 the first part of a collection of * Comic and Seriooa Seoti Pbeme' 
was printed by James Watson at Edinburgh ; a second part was teaed in 1701» 
and a third in 1710. This collection contains ' Fy, let us a' to the bridal,' and 
other pieces mentioned in the course of the present compilation. 

In 1724 appeared the first volume of Ramsay's 'Tea Table Miscellany'— a 
work which may be said to form the foundation of all other collections of Scot- 
tish song. A second and a third volume were issued by the year 1727, and a 
fourth some time after the year 1733. The extreme rarity of the eariy editicni 
prevents us from stating their exact dates. The copy in our poeaeaion is laid 
to be 'the twelfth edition,' and is printed at London in 1763 ; but we under- 
stand there are other two 'twelfth editions,' one printed at GUwgow in 1753, 
and one at Edinburgh in 17G0. Tlie 'Tea Table Miscellany' is valuable aa 


being the repository in which many of our best and most popular old songs, 
which had been floating on the memory of generations, or at best but enjoying 
the doubtful security of a ballad broadside, were fii-st preserved :— it is also 
valuable as containing a number of songs by Ramsay himself, and by Ramsay's 
contributors, the most distinguished of whom were Robert Crawfurd and 
Hamilton of Bangour. Beyond this, its merits do not go ; for Ramsay unfor- 
tunately had little reverence for antiquarian lore; numerous old ditties he 
altered and remodelled according to his own discretion, without apparently the 
slightest remorse, or without apprising the reader of the extent of the alter- 
ations ; and throughout the whole four volimies he does not give a single note 
or commentary, or even an author's name ! All that we have to guide us in 
the work is the following notification affixed to the Index : ' The songs 
marked C, D, H, L, M, O, &c., are new words by different hands ; X, the 
authors unknown; Z, old songs; Q, old songs with additions.' Tlxis note, 
meagre though it be, is yet of eminent service ; and the reader will see, in 
glancing over the present compilation, of what use it has been in pointing out 
the songs that were considered old in Ramsay's day, in specifying those that 
had undergone alterations from his own pen, and in enabling us to guess at the 
productions of his contributors. If it is to be lamented that Ramsay did not 
favour us with any traditional information (which must have been rife in his 
day), regarding the many old songs which he has preserved, let it never be 
forgotten how much the lyric literature of the country owes to him— first, for 
collecting and introducing to the upper circles of society (for his Miscellany, 
as its title imports, aimed at the patronage of those who indulged in the then 
aristocratic beverage of tea), many admirable rustic effusions that otherwise 
might have remained unnoted or altogether perished, and, above all, for his 
own contributions to the stock of Scottish song. These latter unquestionably 
' led the way ' to many of the triumphs that have since been achieved in modem 
song- writing, and, after more than a century's trial, they still hold a foremost 
rank in the dazzling and crowded scroll of the lyrical muse of Scotland. As 
a song-writer, indeed, the author of ' The Gentle Shepherd ' is not surpassed 
for honest warmth and heartiness of feeling and expression, while in the modu- 
lation of his rhythm and style of versification, he has, we consider, no equal 
among all his successors. In exquisite delicacy of ear, Ramsay appears to us 
to be among Scottish poets what Milton is among English poets on the same 
point— -unrivalled. 

The number of editions through which the * Tea Table Miscellany ' ran, not 
in Scotland only but in England, proves tliat Scottish song enjoyed, during the. 

early half of List century, a wide-spread popularity. In oonfinnatioa of thk, 
and illustrative also of the fkshionable fiivour in which our natiTe lyrki wwb 
held, William Thomson, a teacher of mouc in London, brought out in ITlft, a 
collection of Scottish songs set to music, which hecallad * Orpheiu Caladonim,* 
and dedicated to the Princess of Wales, afterwards oonsort of G«OT]g« II. la 
1733 he published two other volumes, with the same title, the fixst dediostcd 

• To the Queen,' and the second ' To her Grace the Duchess of Hamilton.* 
Most of the songs in the ' Oriiheus Caledonius' are taken fktnn the *Te« Tsble 
Miscellany," without acknowledgment ; and honest Allan thus good-temperedly 
adverts to the circumstance in the preface to the * twelfth edition: ' * From this 
and the following volume, Mr. Thomson (who is allowed by all to be a good t«Mher 
and singer of Scots songs) culled his Orpheus Caledonios, the musick for both tlie 
voice and flute, and the words of the songs finely engraTen in a iblio book,/ur 
the use of persons of the highest qucdUy in Britain, and dedieal ed to ih* laU 
Queen. This, by the bye, I thought proper to intimate, and do myself thai 
justice which the publisher n^lected ; since he ought to liare acquainted his 
illustrious list of subsa-ibers that the most of the songs were mine, the mmddc 

After the ' Tea Table Miscellany,' the roost important collection was DaTid 
Herd's ' Ancient and Modem Scottish Songs, Heroic Ballads. Ao,' originally 
published in 1769, in one volume, and afterwards in 1776, snlaiged to two 
volumes. This collection the reader will find repeatedly l e fcii e d to in the 
course of the present work, as the place where many of omr very best okl 
Scottish songs first appeared in print. Herd was at once a most siiciosssftd and 
most faithful collector.* ' The rough, the polished,' says Allan Conningbun, 
'the rude, the courtly, the pure, the gross, the imperfect, and the complete, 
were all welcome to honest and indiscriminating David— be loved them all, 
and he published them all. He seemed to have an art of his own in finding 
curious old songs: he was not a poet, and could not create them; be was no 
wizard, and could not evoke them from the dust; yet he had the good fortune 
to find them, and the courage to publish them without mitigation or abatement. 
Whatever contained a vivid pictiire of old manners, whatever prsesnted a 

* David Herd was a native of St. Gyms in Kincardineshire, bat spent mcst of his llfs as 
clerk in an accountant's office in Edinburgh. He died in 1610, at ths ags of SSfS a tj-elgllt. 

• He was known,' says Sir Walter Scott, ' and generally esteemed for his dl 
common sense and antiquarian science, mixed with much good nature and (T 
His hardy and antique mould of countenance, and his venerable grizzled locks, | 
him, amongst his acquaintance, the name of Gregttta: 

lively image of other days, and whatever atoned for its freedom by its 
humour, or for its indelicacy by its well-flavoured wit, was dear to the good old 

Early in the year 1787, the first volume of Johnson's * Scots Musical 
Museum' was published. This work was undertaken by James Johnson, 
Engraver and Musicseller in Edinburgh, * at the suggestion of William Tytler 
of Woodhouselee and Dr. Blacklock, and its professed object was 'to unite 
the songs and music of Scotland in one general collection.' It was intended 
to extend to two volumes only;t but before the first volume was completed, 
Johnson got acquainted with Robert Burns, who was then in the zenith of 
his popularity in Edinbiirgh — and from that hour the * Scots Musical Museum,' 
which in all probability would have gone down to the dust, expanded its 
wings, and became immortal. Every reader is familiar with the history of 
Burns's life, and knows with what enthusiasm he entered into the spirit of 
Johnson's undertaking, and afterwards of Mr. George Thomson's— the latter 
a work more ambitious in its character, and much more select and elegant in 
its design and execution. The services which he rendered to the lyric poetry of 
his country, by restoring and animating with life and vigour many a half- 
forgotten lay of the olden time, are incalculable; while his own contributions 
to that much-loved department of literature — inimitable as they are for their 
truth of feeling, simplicity and grace of expression, passionate tenderness, 
exqmsite pathos, and felicitous humour— for ever constitute him the * High 
Chief of Scottish Song.' No single sentence (and to such we are now limited,) 
can express the obligations which the lyric literature of Scotland owes to 
Robert Burns ; but with the present volume in his hand, the reader may 
partly guess at these ; and here may be appropriately inscribed, as applicable 
to the poet, the words of Sir Christopher Wren's epitaph in St. Paul's 
cathedral — ' -Si monumentum requiras, circumspice '—' If you seek for his monu- 
ment, look around.' 

* Johnson died at Edinburgh in February, 1811, in indigent circumstances. He is said 
to have been the first wbo engraved music on pewter, by which a great saving was effected. 
The 'Museum' is engraved on pewter plates. 

t Johnson's ' Museum' eventually ran the length of six volumes. The second was pub- 
lished m 1788, the third in 1790, the fourth m 1792, the fifth m 1797 (a year after the poet's 
death, but he had contributed largely to its contents before that event), and the sixth in 1803. 
A new edition of the ' Museum' was brought out in 1839, with Notes by the late William 
Stenhouse, and additional Illustrations by Mr. David Laing of Edinburgh. To these 
Notes and Illustrations we have been much indebted for information in the course of 
this work. 

Of the Collections of the present oentniy, w» ora bat faftrdj aUndle to th* 
more important. In 1816 was printed at the Unirersity Prev of QlMtgam, in 

2 Tols., ' The Pocket Encyclopedia of Songs '—a rather ralnable coUadkm, mmI 
now extremely scarce. In 1819, was poUished at Paisley, ' The Harp of 
Renfrewshire/ a work containing a large nomher of ' original ' song», and pro- 
ceded by an ' Essay on the Poets of Renfrewshire,' from the pen of William 
Motherwell, then a very young man. In 1821, Mr. John Stmthani Inoaght 
out at Glasgow, his * Harp of Caledonia,' a rexy comprehenaiTe ooUectioo in 

3 vols., accompanied by an able 'Essay on Scottish Songw riter s.' In 18i5 
appeared at London, in 4 vols., ' The Songs of Scotland,' by Allan Connini^uun, 
and in 1835, in 2 vols., < The Songs of England and Scotland,* by Peter Cimning- 
ham, the latter work, though limited in its scope, a more fldthftil guide than 
the former. In 1S29 Mr. Robert Chambers brooght oat at Edinborgh in S toIs. 
his 'Scottish Songs,' a collection of great ralue, preceded by an * Historioal 
Essay on Scottish Song,' written in the editor's osoal clear and discriminating 
manner. To this list may be added two musical collections: R. A. Smith's 
' Scottish Minstrel,' Edinburgh, 1820, &c., 6 rols., and Mr. Peter Maoleod's 
' National Melodies,' Edinburgh, 1S3S. From all these works, the pnMBt pub- 
lication has derived more or leas benefit; and it now humbly claims a pUoa by 
their side, in the hope of being in its turn of service to Aiturs colleotora. 


This edition of the Book of Scottish Sono is a reprint of the work originally 
published in 1844, when it attained very extensive popularity. It has been in 
continuous sale ever since, and is now re-iaeued, with a few minor comctions, 
on a larger printed paper, and at a diminished price. 

Glasgow, 1866. 


■ TJie Songs marked + have never before been pi-inted. 


Essay on the Song- Writers of Scotland,., 

.page vii 

.. „ XXV 

A' body's like to be married, 253 

A Boy's Song, 215 

A canty Sang 419 

ACogieo' Yill, 262 

A famous man was Robin 

Hood, 828 

t " A good old Song," 97 

A Lassie cam to our Gate, 107 

A Lassie Fair, 273 

t A Lassie's Wonders, 513 

ALuUaby, .' 585 

A Nursery Ehyme, 469 

A red, red Rose, 85 

A Rose-bud, 546 

A Steed, a Steed, 424 

A weary Lot is thine, 539 

Awet Sheet, 271 

A Wife o' my ain, 547 

Absence, 399 

Address to a Lady 805 

Adieu, 596 

Adieu for a while, 517 

Adieu for evermore, 539 

Adown winding Nith, 221 

Advice to the Lasses, 312 

Ae fond kiss, 428 

Ae Happy Hour, Ill 

African Song, 369 

Af ton Water, 344 

Ah, Chloris 16 

Ah, the poor Shepherd, ... 48 

Aikendrum, 418 

Alake for the Lassie, 592 

AU joy was bereft me, .... 315 

AUen-a-dale, 74 

Allister M'AUister, 212 

Alloa House, 887 

t Amang the Heather, — 304 

And can thy Bosom, 258 

Andro and his cutty Gun, . 191 

Ane-and-twenty, Tarn, 561 

Anna, 282, 531 

Annie Laurie, 

An thou were my ain thing, 

Argyll is my name, 

Arran Maid, 

As gloaming was drawing, 

As I cam' down, 

At setting day, 


Auld Gudeman — 

Auld Janet Baird 

Auld John Nichol 

Auld Lang Syne, 

t Auld Peter M'Gowan, . . . 

Auld Rob Morris, 8 

Auld Robin Gray, 

Auld Uncle Watty 

Away to the Mountains, . . 

Back again, 462 

Banks o' Doon, 86, 87 

Bannocks o' Barley,. . .223, 278 

Barbara Allan, 412 

Barrochan Jean 108 

Battle of Sheriff Muir, 168, 171 

Bauldy Baird 275 

t Beechen Tree, 142 

Behave yoursel' before folk, 162 

Behold the hour, 311 

Beneath a gi-een shade,. . . 431 

+ Benlomond 131 

Bess and her Wheel, 511 

Bess the Gawkie, 17 

Bessie, 423 

Bessie Bell and Mary Gray, 362 
Bessie's Lamentation, .... 297 

Bet of Aberdeen, 487 

Beware o' bonnie Ann,. . . . 182 

Bide ye yet 4 

Birks of Aberfeldy 623 

Birks of Abergeldy, 522 

Bimiebouzle, .' 509 

Blackford Hill 684 

Bleaching her claes, 694 

Blink o'er the bum, 619 

Blue bonnets over the 

Border 15 

Blue-e'ed Mary 448 

Blue-eyed Anne 51, 295 

Blj'the and cheerie 192 

Bljlhe are we set 267 

Blythe ha'e I been, 429 

Blythe was she, 191 

Boat Song 207 

Bobbing John 681 

t Bonnie Aggie Lang, 88 

Bonnie Ann, 420 

Bonnie Chirsty, 4 

Bonnie Dundee, 674 

Bonnie George Campbell, . 274 

Bonnie Jean, 292, 603 

Bonnie Jean mak's muckle, 576 

Bonnie Jeannie Gray 488 

Bonnie Lady Ann 20 

Bonnie Lassie 248 

Bonnie Lesley, 648 

Bonnie Mary 822 

Bonnie Mary Graeme, 290 

Bonnie Mary Halliday,. .. 819 

Bonnie Mary Hay, 7 

Bonnie Mysie, 250 

Bonnie Peggy 284 

Bonnie Prince Charlie, ... 87 

Bonnie Wee Thing, 484 

tBorderSong 143 

Bothwell Bank, 442 

Braxfield Braes 689 

Bring a' your Maut, 464 

Broad Swords of Scotland, 64 
Broom of Cowdenknows,. . 84 

Brace's Address 160 

Busk ye, Busk ye, *67 

By Allan Sti-eam, 470 

Ca'theYowes, W 



Cadogan'B Lament. 872 

Calder Braes. **8 

Caledonia 249. 480. 808 


CaUum-a-Glen 158 

Cameron's Welcome Hame, 888 

Campaie Qlen 249 

Can ye lo'e me 289 

Captain Paton's Lament,.. 476 

Captain Wedderbum 70 

Carle, an the King come, .. 560 

t Carle Time, 800 

Canld Kail in Aberdeen, . . 287 

Cessnock Banks 116 

Charlie he^s my Darling,. . 88 

Chai-ming Nancy 199 

Cheerly , Soldier, 

Cherry Valley 

Clout the Caldron, 126 


Cock up your Beaver 219 

Coila'aBard, 874 

f Cold, cold's the Hand, .. 

Colin Clout, 

Colonel Gardiner, 185 

Come hame to your Lingels, 835 

Come, let me take, 512 

Come under my Ploidic, . . 82 

Comin' thro' the Rye, 881 

Connel and Flora 74 

Contented wi' little, 77 

Com Rigs, 165 

Corunna's lone Shore 820 

Courtship, 428 

Cradle Song, 196 

Craigie-bum-wood 209 

Cromlefs Lilt, 220 

Cnlloden, 894 

Culloden Muir, 868 

Cuttie^s Wedding 811 

Daft Days, 676 

Dainty Davie 98, 294 

Dear Highland Laddie, ... 118 
Dear Roger, if your Jenny, 556 

Deil tak' the Wars 177 

Deluded Swain 225 

Despairing Mary, 564 

Dinna think, bonnie La8sie,408 
Dirge of a Highland Chief, 153 

Dirge of Wallace, 58 

Doctor Monroe, 536 

Donald Caird, 168 

Donald Couper , 27 

Donald Ounn. 

Donald is no more. 

Donald Macdonald, 

Donald MacgiUavry 

Donald of Dondec, 

Doon the Bnrn, Darie, . . . 
Dowie in the hint o' haini. 

Draw the Sword, ~ 

Dnunliihie Mary 


Dombarton's bonnie Deli,. 

Dumbarton's Drama, 


Doncan M'Clearj, 

Dondee.— The bonnie Bed- 

etdale Lassie, 


Earl March 110 


t EmijEprant's Death Song. . 

Eskdale Braes, ~ 

Ettrick Banks, 1 

Evan Banks, 

Exile of Uldoonan, 

Fair Eliza, 

Fairest of her Days, 

Fair fa' the Lasses, 416 

Fair Helen 297 

Fair in Kinrara 

Fairly shot of her 

Fair modest Flower 

Fare thee weel, 


Farewell to Avondale 

Farewell to Ayrshire. 

Farewell to Funery, 

Farewell to the Land, 407 

Farewell to Whiskey 240 

f Farewell, ye haunts of Joy, 496 
Farewell, ye Streams, .... 470 
Fare ye weel. my Aold Wife, 18 

Far, faraway, 8M 

Fee him. Father, l 

f Fishing Song, T9 

Fora'that »4 

For ever. Fortune 94 

Forget na', dear Lassie, ... 167 

For lack of Gold, 120 

Forlorn, my Love M6 

Gae to the Kie wi* me 864 

Gala Water, , 489 

0«|]o«»y Tlia, .. 


0«C vp^ Ondewito... . . 

Oi'siMaLMs, , 


Ota e'er Tm In love, . 
Ote y 

OlwdBColhtf Apron,.... Ml 

OlMMny. in 

Olandoehart Tato, 188 

OI«n-D» B'AIbya. lit 

Olea-Om, Mi 

Oloamln' 888 

Oloomy WlnUr.. ITt 

Gloomy WlBUfseoBM,... Bit 

Good Bight and )oy^ 888 

OotoBMnHduJohaals... 871 

OotohiiD,tbaB, m 

tOfee. Bul xt Am, grse, 8 

Oreen Owrea, US 

tOodeOoldsmamToea,.. «ST 
Oudewif e, eooni Um LawiB.fiM 

Babble's frM hUM. S47 

HadlaCaT*. tU 

Ha'eyeseen, SOOtfTT 

HaUowfalr 100 

HalnekeiMef. 181 


Nell. ao 

Handsome Katie, 118 

Hap and Bow 440 

Hapma wl' thy Petticoat,. 808 

Happy Friendship, ITT 

Haodawa* IN 

Heather Jock. f1« 

He is gone on the Mounlaln.BW 
Helen of KirkeonneU,.... Vt 

tHenry HO 

Her bine roUln B*e,. VI 

Her bonnls black B*e, 818, ITI 

Her Klaa waa soft, 188 

tHerName 78 

Here awa*. there awa*,. . . . 887 

Here U the Olen. MS 

Hflve'sa Health 180. Mf 

Here's to thee, my Scottish 



Here's to the King, sir, . . . 568 

He's owre the Hills, 214 

Hey for a Lass 121 

Hey, how, my Johnnie lad, 625 

Hey, Jenny 84 

Hey, my bonnie wee Lassie, 10 
Hey the Hielan Heather, . 264 

Hie, bonnie Lassie, 298 

t Hie to the Woodlands, hie, 225 

Highland Coronach, 383 

Highland Harry, 465 

Highland Mary, 49, 381 

Highland Minstrel Boy, . . 8 
Highland Mother's Lament,592 

Highland Whiskey, 239 

HiU of Locheil 395 

Honest Men, 288 

Hooly and Fairly, 29, 30 

How ardently my Bosom,, 288 
How blythely the Pipe,. . . 161 
How can my Poor Heart,. 146 
\ How early I woo'd thee, . 544 
How eerily, how drearily,. 251 

How hard's the fate 308 

How sweet this lone Vale, 442 
Hun-a for the Highlands, . 270 
Hush, ye rude Breezes,. . . 309 

If on Earth, 268 

I am married, 594 

I ance knew Content 195 

I cam' o'er the Muir, 481 

+ " I canna be fashed,". ... 440 

I I canna sleep, 228 

1 1 canna smile, 867 

I di-eam'd I lay, 60 

I gaed a waefu' Gate, 121 

I I had a Dream 78 

I had a Horse 371 

I ha'e lost my Love, 355 

I ha'e nae Kith, 864 

I I have listen'd 249 

I heard the evening Linnet's 

Voice, 385 

I kenna what's come o'er 

him, 467 

I lo'ed ne'er a laddie butane,337 

I'll awa' hame, 164 

m aye ca' in, 102 

I'll cheer up my Heart, ... 855 
ril gar our Gudeman, .... 43 

I'll gar ye be fain, 517 

I'll lo'e thee, Annie, 181 

I'll never leave thee, 505 

I'll never love thee more, . 

I'll no wake, 

ril tend thy Bower 

I'U twine a Wreath, 

t I'm naebody noo, 

I mark'd a Gem, 

I'm ower young 

t I'm wandering wide 

I neither gat, 

+ I've loved thee, Love 

t I.wander'd alane, 

I I winna be weel, 

I winna gang back, 

In airy Dreams, 

Indian Death Song, 

In Summer when the Hay, 

In yon Garden, 


tlsabeU, 39, 

Is your War-pipe asleep,. . 

It fell on a Morning, 

It is na, Jean, 

It's no that thou'rt bonnie, 
t " It's weel it's na waur," . 


Jamie, 214 

Jamie frae Dundee 624 

Jamie Gay 176 

Jamie o' the Glen 286 

Janet, 379 

Janet and me, 247 

Janet Dunbar 224 

Janet Macbean 265 

t Jeanie Graham 251 

Jeanie Graham, 819 

Jeanie Morrison, 50 

Jeanie's black E'e, 308 

Jeannie's Bosom 677 

Jenny dang the Weaver,. . 219 

Jenny's Bawbee, 60, 61 

Jessie 133 

Jessie o' the Dell 43 

Jock o' Hazeldean, 22 

Jockey, 176 

Jockey fou, Jenny fain,. . . 461 

Jockie's far awa', 163 

Jockie's ta'en the parting 

Kiss, 440 

Jocky met wi' Jenny, 145 

Jocky said to Jfenny, 145 

John Anderson, my Jo, . . . 54 
John, come kiss me now,. . 578 

John Grumlie, 464 

John Hay's bonnie Lassie, 504 


John Highlandman 44 

John Maut, 154 

John o' Badenyon, 75 

John Tod, 154 

Johnnie and Mary 801 

Johnnie Cope, 129 

Johnnie's Grey Breeks, ... 446 

Julia, 686 

Jumpin' John 868 

Kail Brose of Old Scotland, 

Kate of Aberdeen, 

Kate of Gowrie, 

Kath'rine Ogie, 

Katie's Answer, 


Keep the Country, 

Kelvin Grove 


Kind Robin lo'es me, 

Kirk wad let me be 

Know'st thou the Land, . . 

Lady Onlie, 

Laddie, oh, leave me, 

Langsyne, beside 


Lament for Jamie, 

Lament for the Bards,. . . . 
Lament of Flora M'Donald, 

Lanark MUls, 

Land of my Fathers 

Land o' the Leal, 

Landlady, count the Lawin^ 

Lass, gin ye lo'e me, 

Lass, gin ye wad lo'e, 

Lassie, lie near me, 

Lassie wi' the Untwhite 


Lassie wi' the raven Locks, 
Lassie, would ye lo'e me, . 
Last May a braw Wooer, . 
Lauchie's Promotions, — 

Lay of the Hopeless 

Leader haughs and Yarrow, 

Leddie Anne, 

Lenachen's Farewell, 

Let me in this ae Night, . . 

Let Topers Sing 

Lewis Gordon 

Life aye has been, . 
Life's a Fanght. . . . 

Lizy Liberty 

Lizzy Lindsay, .... 







Lochaber 137 

Loch Catherine, 287 

Loch Enoch Side 841 

Loch-na-gar 869 

Logan Braes, >* 

Logan Water, 36 

Logie o' Bachan, 448 

Lord Gregory, 670 

Loudon 'a bonnie Woods, . . 41 

Louisa's bat a Lassie, S5S 

Love 876 

t Love at Thirty-nine 668 

Love inviting Reason, .... 460 

Love is timid 198 

Lovely Davies, 484 

Lovely Mary 401 

Lovely Polly Stewart, .... 661 

Love's Adieu, 888 

Love's Constancy, 469 

Love's like a Dizziness, . . US 
Low down f the Brume, . . 86 

Low Germanie, 116 

Lucky Nancy 

Lucy's Flittin", 70 

Lullaby, 287 

Macgrdgor's Gathering, . . 157 

Maclaine 279 

Macpherson's Farewell, ... 846 

Macpherson's Bant 846 

Maggie Lauder, 269 

Maggie Maclane 902 

Maggie's Tocher, 84 

Maid of my Heart, 28 

Marion 897 

Mark yonder Pomp, 177 

Marriage and the Care ot, 206 

t Married the Mom 676 

Mary 296, 876 

IMary 892 

Mary Cowley 267 



t Mary Gray 662 

Mary Lee's Lament, 696 

Mary Macneil, 892 

Mary Morison 49 

Mary.O, 298 

Mary of Castle-Cary, 9 

MaryS<^t 466 

t Mary Shaw 668 

Mary Shearer 215 

Mary's Dream 

Mary's Grave, 

Haryt twft Lo?m 

ilda, 447* 

Matrimonial Hai»pine«,.. 801 

Mtg&Uailej 214 

Menie, 447 

Xexry may. the Keel row, . 117 

Miss Weir. Ml 

MoirUnd Willie. 8t 

My ain bonnie M«7. ^* 

My ain Coontrie. UT.UB 

My ain dear Lend, Of 

My ein Firedde. 190 

MyeinWife^ 184 

MyAoldMan, flO 

MyBeede, 87 

tXy bonnie Lassie^ dead. 411 

My bonnie Mary SU 

My bonnie Wife, 171 

My Boy, Tammy 474 

My Dearie, if thon dee, .. . «• 

My dear litUe Lanie. 486 

My faithful Somebody.. ... 408 

My Fiddle and me. 179 

tMyfintand last Lore... 290 
My Goddess, Woman, .... 486 

MyGudeman, 678 

My Heart's in the Hi8hlands.89 

My Heart's my ain 986 

My Heather Land 419 

My Held is like to rend,.. U9 

My Highland Home, 6 

My Highland Vale. 961 

My Jamie, 979 

My Jeanie and I, 617 

MyJoJanet, 40 

My Johnnie, Ill 

My Lady's Gown, 640 

My Love, 409 

My Love is but a Lassie,612, 648 
My Love's in Germany,.. . 406 

My Lowland Bride 480 

tMy Mammy 181 

My Mary 110 

My Mither bids me bind.*. 408 

My Mither men't 166 

My Nannie, O, 9 

My Nannie's awa*. 809 

tMy NaUve Land 880 

My only Jo and Dearie. O, 6 

My Peggy's Face. 181 

My Sheep I neglected. .... 184 

My Spouse, Nancy 41 

My sweet wee Laddie «6 

My Wife has U'en the Gee, 7 

My Wife's a waal 


My Wife shall ha'e 
My Wife sbe dam ■ 
tMyotTs lofty Brow, 

Mae LMk about the RoMt. Ill 

Mae mair well meal, m 

Mttney.. 114 

Man of Lofia Orean, OS 

WadraraladwHa. §0 

MatHa Land,. dM 

'Neath tha Ware, 401 

tMddpath.. 89 

Nieol Jarvla's Jooney. .. . 9M 

Nora's Tow, U 

Norland Joekay W 

t Not the Swan on the Laka. iU 

Now. Janny, f aas, Wi 

Nowlaaelylslt. «• 

Mow SprlBf atala. 4M 

O. an yaaUapincMacgle, Ml 

O.aalwaakial. Ut 

ObtoUMrSandla. m 

tOcomawtthma. < 

O. dinna think though we. 


Oglnlwere,. ] 

OginmyLova, < 

O gin ye wan bal nlna, . . 

O give me the Bar, I 




O. KenmnnrsoB and awif , M 
O Lasala I lo'a daarsat, ... m 
O lay thy Loofia mine,... HO 

O, leaTO me not, 176 

t O Leese me on tha Oln. 486 

tOLoredalighta, 106 

O MaUy-i meek.. 486 

O Mary, tnm awa*,. 414 

O Mary, ye'se be clad...... 666 

O. my Lore's bonnie,. 141 

O Nancy's Hair. 896 

O saft ia the Blink 0^ thine 

£'g 400 

Osairltiie. 106 

0«awye my Father 41? 

O. saw ye the Laas, 74 

O, take me to yon aonny Iale460 


O tell me how to woo thee, 
O that I had ne'er married, 
O the Ewe - bughting's 


O the weary Siller, 

O thou hast seen, 

O Tibbie, 

O wake thee, 

O wat ye wha cam' here 


0, wat ye wha's 

weel's me, 

b, were I on Parnassus,.. . 

O, wha's that, 

0, where, tell me where, . . 

O, whistle, 334, 

O ye wha here, 

Och, hey, Johnnie Lad, . . . 

October Winds, 

O'er Hill and Dale roamin', 
O'er the mist-shrouded, .. . 

O'er the Mountain, 

O'er the Muir, 

O'er the Muir to Maggy, . . 
O'er the Water to Charlie, 

Of a' the Airts, 

Oh, dinna ask me, 

tOh, Helen dear, 

Oh hone a ri, 

Oh, how could I venture,. . 


Oh ono chri oh, 

Oh, Poverty, 

Old King Coul, 

Old Long Syne, 

Old Nanny's Song, 

Old Scotland, 

Omnia vincit amor, 

One day I heard Mary, 

One Star of the Morning, . 
On the Death of Burns, . . . 
On the wild Braes of Calder, 
On Whitsimday Morning, . 

On wi' the Tartan 

Open the Door to me, 

Oscar's Ghost, 

t Our ain Land, 

Our bonnie Scots Lads, .. . 

Our Gudeman, 

Our Gudeman cam' Hame, 
tOur Gudeman's an unco 


Ours is the Land, 

Owcr Bogie, 

Patie and Peggie, 528 

Patie's Wedding, 836 

Peggie, 113, 114, 549 

Peggy and Patie, 314 

Peggy, I must love thee,. . 498 
Peggy, now the king's come, 660 

+ Phemie 487 

Phillis the Fak, 221 

Phoebe Graeme, 139 

Pibroch of Donuil Dhu, . . 157 

Pinkie House 602 

Po'k-head Wood 469 

Polwarth on the Green, . . 123 

Pompey 's Ghost, 174 

Poor little Jessie, 590 

Poor Mary, 299 

t Poor me, 143 

Prestwick Drum, 439 

Prince Charles Edward, . . 306 

Puii-tith Cauld, 371 

Push about the Glass, — 684 

Queen Mary's Lament, ... 882 

Raven's Stream 888 

Red gleams the Sun, 257 

Red is the Rose, 895 

Remembrance, 404 

Reply 529 

Rest awhile with me, 333 

Rigs o' Barley, 166 

Robin shure in Haii-st, — 531 

Rob Macgregor, 275 

Rob Roy Macgregor, 246 

Rob's Jock, 88 

Romance of Dunois, 90 

Roslin Castle, 174, 175 

Row weel, my Boatie, .... 216 

Royal Charlie 491 

Roy's Wife, 8 

Sae flaxen were her Ringlet8,21 

Sae merry as we ha'e been, 303 

Sae will we yet, 267 

Sailor and Shepherdess, . . 25 

+ Sailor's Wife's Song 858 

Sanct Mungo, 587 

Sandy, 380 

Sandy Allan 410 

Sandyford Ha', 591 

Saw ye nae my Peggy, 158 

Say not the Bard, 285 

Scornfu' Nancy 8 

Scotia's Sons 192 


Scotland 97 

Scotland and Charlie,. 826, 867 

t Scotland Dear, 266 

Scotland's HUls, 68 

Scotland yet 247 

See the Moon, 87 

She is a winsome wee Thing,497 

She left us 444 

She rose and let me in,. .. . 244 

She's fair and fause, 272 

Shon M'Nab, 148 

Sing on, 123 

Sing on, sing on, 21 

Slichtit Nancy, 101 

Sly Widow Skinner 683 

Soldier, rest, 232 

Somebody, 42, 199 

Some love to roam, 480 

Song of Death, 64 

t Song of the Stars, 342 

Song to Maria 218 

Sorrow and Song 253 

Speak not of Love, 820 

St. Andrew's Day, 185 

t St. Mango's Kirk-yard,. . 564 

Strathallan'a Lament 182 

Strathbungo Jean, 198 

Strephon and Lydia 445 

Such a Parcel of Rogues,. . 61 

Summer Wooing, 380 

Sweet Annie, 660 

Sweet Betty 519 

Sweet is the Dawn, 687 

+ Sweet Jeanie Lass 78 

Sweet May 688 

Sweet Robin, 673 

Sweet's the Dew, 257 

Sweel Susan 854 

Sweet the Bard 482 

Symon and Janet, 94 

Symon Brodie 99 

Tak* it, Man, tak' it 248 

Tak' tent now, Jean Ill 

TamGlen, 92 

Tarn o' the Balloch 57 

Ta Offish 149 

Tarry woo, 496 

Taste Life's glad Moments, 187 

Tee-total Song 256 

t Tell me, Dear tT. . . 625 

Tell me, thou Soul, 86 

t The Auld Brig-stane 471 

The Auld Cloak 91 


■"• • 

♦ Thp Anld Folks. . .... 881 

re or THC BOOK or toorm 
The Brier Bash^ 6 

IB Mara. 

The nowwm o< tb« yWMt 


TlM OlMCOwFKlr. 


. 8t 

. m 




. vm 

. 94 

. Mi 

. iia 

. Mi 

. 80 


. Ml 

. wr 

. Mi 

. IM 


. Mi 


. 874 


. 980 



. 979 

. 140 
. IM 



. su 

. vn 











The Aald Oademan,. . 100, 679 

The Auld HiKhlan' Piper.. 801 
The Auld Man's Lam'ent, . 8i5 

The Auld Man's Mear MB 

t The Antmnn Leayes,. . . . 800 

The Banks of Nlth £61 

The Banks of Tarf, 888 

t The Banks of Tay 4fiO 

The Banks of the Dee 188 

The Banks of the Devon,. . 908 
t The Banks of the Esk, .. S81 
The Banks 0' Olaizart. ... 98S 

tTheBarn.0 874 

The Barring o' the Door,. . 99 

The Bashf u* Wooer, 886 

The Beggar, 818 

tT1iehrl«ht8anluulgtT«n, tfO 

The Broomy Bne, STt 

The BodoB the Brier..... IM 
The Biinipw...r.T. Mff 

The Bosh aboon Xnqwdr. U 

The Campbell^ Pfbneh... M 

The Campde LMrie. SIT 

The CttpOm Hontamaa. . . MT 
The Cardin* o\, 4W 

neglMaj Night. 

TlM Ofavhadnae FTMdoi 




The Harper of Moll. 

Tke Hawthon TM*. 

The Healhar Ben. 

Tbe Healhy Ban. 

The HlfhfaMd ChMBcUr^ 

The Highlaad Maid. 

The Highland ()Beea. ... . 
*The Highland Seer...... 

The Highland Widow.... 
The Hilto of the HeaUMT. 
The Hene of ay fathen 

The Hi»band*t Bong..... 
Tb« Tagit fN4«. ....--t- - 

TheCarle, M 

t The eaald Winter^ fUM. «» 

The Caoldrife Wooer. U9 

The^ChelaeaPeMtoaeit... UB 
The Circle of Friendahip, . m 
The Cock Laird, tl8 

The Crogie tt%, Ml 

The Collier Laddie. Ml 

The Collier's bonnie T eerie. tU 

The Cooper of fife, Mi 

The Corbie and Crmw, .... 4M 

The Cottai's Sang. fU 

The Country Laia, 80i 

The CoTenantei'a Lameot, 100 
The CoTCOMiter's Tomb,. . 866 

The Crook and Plaid 808 

The Curler's Song 866 

The Dainty bit Plan.. 870 

The Big-bellied Bottle,.... 678 
The Birks of Invcrmay, . . 47 

The Black Eagle 151 

The Black-e'ed Lassie,. ... 674 
The BUck-haired Laddie, 891 

The Blaithrie o't, 618 

t The Blind Lassie 231 

The Bloom hath fled 684 

The Blythsome Bridal,. ... 99 

The Blythsome Lad 662 

The Boatie Rows, 238 

The Bonnie Bride, 822 

The days o' Anld LanRiyBe, 880 
f The Daye of my Youth,. . 489 
The Days of old. 881 

The Bonnie Bruckit Lassie, 870 
The Bonnie House o' Airly, 546 
The Bonnie Moor-hen,.... 862 
The Bonnie Red Ribbon,.. 834 
The Bonnie Rowan Bush,. 896 
The Bonnie Scot, 602 

The dear Utile Laeiie,.... 488 
The DecelTer, 688 

The Dell cam' Flddlln'. .. . 180 

The Deukg dang o^er, 688 

The Dowie Dens of Yarrow, 460 
The Dumfries Volonteen,. 686 
The Dusty Miller,. 178 

tThe Bonnie Scotch Lass, 452 
+ The Bonnie Wee Wifle, . . 472 
The Braes aboon Bonaw, . 210 

The Braes o' Bedlay, 844 

The Braes of Ballahun,. . . 116 
The Braes of BaUochmyle, 688 
The Braes of Branksome,. 481 
The Braes of Mar, 858 


The JoyfO* Widower...... 

The kind Breath (/ aawae 
The Kiaahiat the Door. 
The Ladled Svwlng Song 
The'Lad thai'a far awa'. . 
The Lady of my Heart, .. 
The Lady of my Lore, .. . 
The Laird o'Cockpen..... 

The Laird or Lamington.. 

The T^and for me 

t The Dying Girl's Sotog, . . 668 
The Emigrants CompVdnt, 60 
The Emlgranfe Farewell.. 88 
The Emigrant's Farewell.. 468 

The Evening Shade 884 

The Evening Star,. ... 114. 880 
The Ewe Bughts, 88 

The Braes of Yarrow, . 466, 467 

The Braes o' Glenilfer 166 

The Brakens wi' me, 165 

The Breist-knota, 284 

The Ewie, 88 

The Farewell 890, 404, S78 

The Flittin' o' the Oow.... 876 
The Flower o' Dnmblane,. 168 
The Flower of Caledonia, . 190 

The Flower of Yarrow 464 

The Flowers of Edinburgh, 866 

The bricht Star 106 

The Bridal Day lo 

The Land o' Boanete Bine, 

The Land o'Cakee, 


Xhe I^ark 

Tlie Bridal o't 860 

The Bride cam' out o* the 
Byre, 65 



t The Lark and Wren 234 

t The Lass ayont the Hill, 181 

The Lasses a* leugh, 556 

The LasBie by the Loch,. . 414 

The Lassie o' the Glen 298 

The Lass o' Arranteenie, . . 272 
tThe Lass o' Cambuslang, 127 
t The Lass o' Carron side, . 543 
The Lass of Ballochmyle,. 473 

The Lass of Gowrie, 535 

The Lass of Pittenween, . . 534 
The Lass o' Haddington,. . 289 
The Lass o' Isla, 186 

The Non-descript 





, HI' 





H SONG. XXlll 

The Old Maid 

The Totums 78 

The Old Man's Song, .... 

The Old Scotch Air, 

t The Old Scottish Gentle 

The Troops were embarked, 850 
t The Try sting Tree, . . 86, 426 
The Trystin' Tree, 416 

The Tweed 269 

The Plaidie 

The unco bit Want, 322 

The unco Grave 888 

The Ploughman, 

The Poor Man, 

The Unhappy Father, .... 284 
The Vale of Clyde 848 ''* 

The Posie, 

The Pride o' the Glen, . . . 

The Primrose blooms 

t The Prince's Street Beau 
The Quern Lilt, 

TheWaefu' Heart, 528 

The Waes of Scotland, 866, 486 
The Waits, 893 

The Lass o' Livingstone, . . 305 
The Lass o' Netherlee,. .- . 297 
The Lass o' Patie's Mill, . . 372 
The Lass o' Preston Mill, . 264 

The Lass's Wardrobe, 126 

The Lass that made the Bed,441 
•The Lawlands of HoUand, 107 
+ The leal Hght Heait, .... 421 
The Lee Rig, 3 

The Wanderer's Return, . . 810 

TheWanter, <.... 277 

The Wanton Wife 93 

The Rantin' Highlandmar 

The rinaway Bride 

The Robin's Testament, . 

The Rose in Yarrow 

The Rose of Allandale, ... 
The Rover o' Lochryan, . 
The Rowan Tree, 

The Want o' Siller, 127 

The Waukin' 0' the Fauld, 27 

The Way for to woo, 840 

The Wearie Bodie 276 

The weary Pund o' Tow, . . 560 
The Weaver 330 

tThe Scotch Blue-beU, .. 
The Scotsman's Farewell, 
The Scottish Blue Bells,. 
t The Secret Lover 

The Light of Glen Fruin, . 321 
The Light of the Moon, .. . 487 

Tlie Lily of the Vale, 339 

The Linnet, 256 

The Weaver's Wife 229 

The Wedding Day, 460 

The Wee Auld Man, 261 

The Wee German Lairdie, 520 

t The Wee Lassie, 468 

The Weel-tocher-d Lass,.. 291 

The Wee Primrose, ^ 829 

The Wee Wifukie '. 76 

t The Setting Sun, 

The Shepherd Boy, 

The Shepherd's Song, ... 
The Shipwreck, 

The Lomond, 36f 

The lovely Lass of Inverness,32 
The lovely Lass of Inverness,33 

The Lover's Salute, 177 

+ The Maid I lo'e, 130 

The Silken-snooded Lassie 
The Siller Crown, 

The Wliite Cockade, 44 

t The Widow's ae bit Lassie, 467 
t The Widow sae Young,. . 595 
t The Widow's Dream, .... 464 
The Widow's Lament, .... 11 
The Wild Glen, 541 

The Maid of Dunmore, — 164 
The Maid of Glenconnel,. . 859 

The Maid of Islay, 826 

tThe Maid o' Montrose, . . 691 
The Maid's Remonstrance, 187 
The Makin' o' the Hay, ... 882 
The Man in Aberdeen, .... 523 
The Mariner, 438 

The Simmer Mom, 

The Simmer Sun, 

The Smiling Plains, 

The Social Cup 192 

The Soldier's Grave, 

The Soldier's Return, 

The Spinning o't, 293 

The Spinnin' Wheel, 

The Star of Glengai-ry 

The Stuarts of Appin, 

The Sun had slipped, 

The Window Pane, 878 

The Winter of Life, 611 

The Winter sat lang 101 

The Witch on the Brae, .. . 189 

The Women Fo'k 508 

The Wood of Craigie-lea,. . 827 
The Woodlark, 226 

The Mason Laddie, 119 

The Mermaiden, 401 

The meri-y Ploughman, ... 546 

The Midges Dance, 407 

t The mighty Munro, 131 

The Miller . 178 

t The woods o' castle Doune,431 
The Woods of Dunmore, 81,265 
The Wren, 513 

The Thistle, 

The Minstrel, 373 

t The Thistle 

The Minstrel sleeps, 16 

The Mitherless Bairn, .... 589 

The Month of July 587 

t The Mountaineer's Death, 486 
The Nabob, 104 

The Thistle and the Rose, 
The Thistle of Scotland, . . 
The Thorn Tree, 

The Years of Youth, 289 

The Year that's awa', 159 

The Yellow-hair' d Laddie, 814 
t The Yellow-haired Laddie,489 
The Yoimg Laird and Edin- 
burgh Katie S86 

t The Three Lasses, 

The tither Morn, 

t The Tocherless Lass, . . . . 
The Tod * 

The Narrow House, 427 

+ The New Year 81 

The Young Maxwell 486 

Their Groves o* sweet MyrUe,88 

Theniel Menzies' Mary, . . 529 

The Toom Meal Pock, . . . . 



There dwmlt a Han, 660 

There is a bonnie Flower,. 858 
TherelrretaTottngLaaaie, 7 
There'll never be Peace, . . 484 

Thereof my Thumb, 616 

There's nae Laddie coining, 901 
There's none to soothe, .. . S86 
t There's Plenty come to 

woo me, 6S7 

There was a Lass, 40 

They're a' teasing me,. 964, 477 
This is no mine ain House, ' 
This is no my ain Lassie, . 414 

This is no my Plaid, 414 

This is the Night, 348 

Tho" Simmer smiles 27 

Thou art gane awa' 944 

Thoagh Boreas banld, .... 960 
Though dowic-'s the Winter, 497 
Thou gloomy Feberwar, . . 686 

Thou'rt sair altered, 16S 

Tho' we ne'er should meet, 646 
Through the Wood, Laddie, 615 

Thy fatal Shafts, 819 

Tibbie Dunbar, 81 

Tibbie Fowler 61 

t Time cannot blot, 406 

To Arms, 

To daunton me, 601 

Toddlin'Hame 79 

To Isabel, 494 

To Mary in Heaven 842 

To my Auld Wife, 930 

To the Clyde 418 

TranentMuir, 479 

Tranent Wedding, 606 

Tugal M'Taggart 150 

Tullochgorum, 1 

Tune your Fiddles,. 

Turn im spike 147 

'Twas na her bonnie Bine 

Ee 441,488 

'Twas Summer Tide, 194 

Tweedside, 449 

Twine weel the Plaiden, 

t Two Original Songs, 16 

4U^ waiiMiri 

Un«ratcfal Namte, ftt 

UpanuBf TtmailiyBoeki. • 
Upand worttiemaV.,.. 110 

Upinth«Air, MO 

Up in th« Momiaf Mrty. . tB 
Up wi' the Widow. tfO 

Yittoiia. mn 

WMbetothtOtdMi, «1 

W— ^moiorPiliwawitte. m 

Waly,Waly « 

Wandering Wniie. 080 

Wap at the Widow 070 

Wattie's the Wanr o' the 

Wear 400 

WearieTsWcU, 084 

Wedded Lore 400 

Wee Johnnie 400 

Wee Johnny Daoaui, UO 

Welcome Jamie Hame 

Welcome Sommer, 

Well go to Sea no more,. . 

We'U meet bedde, 

We're a* noddin,' 8( 

Were na my Heart Ueht,. . 

We've drank to them, 

Wha is she that loTee Bi«r . 
Wha's at the Window. .... 

What ails this Hetft, 

\Miat ails yon. Pate, 

What can a Toong LaMie, 

What care I, 

What's a' the steer 

When Antomn, 

When first I saw, 

When Oowans sprinkrd,. . 

When I am far away. 


When John and me, 

When Life was gay 

When lonely thou wan- 


When Maggie gangs away, 

WkOe firaqaeal on Tweed. 000 

WhtteMOMlodiaUuit,.... 010 

WhMk»«fmtb»hm^t\. too 

t Wbj do ye tairy. . 




wniie bnWd * P)wk <f 

Msat. no 

WUll^e drowned in Tairow. 400 

Willie Wasglsteil. fH 

wmie WM A WiBlMi Wac 90 

Willie Waall*. 00 

Wilttewl*M»Wlf a.)e«... 004 
WDlia WlBkie's ~ 

WUlytfoletheliidlet,.. 90 
WfUtheabeajDaMta... ta 
♦ wm Uwi ttmmmhm ■■.. Vi 
WlBl«r. wf* kis ekmdy Bmw,000 
WtthlB a Mile oT ldlnb«|ia« 

With wMta' BMit, at 

Woe's my Bewt, fH 

Woo'd Md Mauled aad a*. llO 
tWoolng Boog^ 100 

Te bonnie Haa^ha, .... 


Te JaeoWtee by Mama, 
t Tender Bonny Braa, .. 

Tonne Jamie...... 

Toong Joeky. 

Toong Bsggy 

tTooBf Pbanle... 


In tracing the early literary history of any na- ' 
tion, it will be uniformly found, that, in point 
of antiquity. Poetry takes precedence of Prose. 
The rudest and most barbarous tribes of which 
we have any information — with the exception, 
perhaps, of the aborigines of certain tracts of 
Australasia — are known to possess snatches of 
music and song, which they cultivate and cher- 
ish long before they have risen above the savage 
state, or have attained any thing approaching to 
a written language. In the beginning of their 
history, like Pope in his infancy, they " lisp in 
numbers;" and Sono forms the first medium 
through which they venture to express their j 
loftier passions and emotions, or to record the 
triumphant deeds of their race. 

The early inhabitants of our own country, 
while yet Pagans and unmixed Celts, are repre- 
sented to have had a class of poets called Bards 
or Skalds, whose leading duty was to celebrate 
the heroic actions of their chiefs ; and on the 
faith of this fact, supported by certain dim tra- 
ditionary memorials of names and events, Slftc- 
pherson constructed his splendid Ossianic fig- 
ments. At a later period, during what is called 
the Middle Ages, when the Celtic was no longer 
the prevalent language of Scotland,* but was 

* Ifo questions in Scottish history have more 
perplexed inquirers than the overthrovv and ap- 
parent annihilation of the kingdom of Pictland 

supplanted by the Anglo-Saxon and Norman, 
there flourished what were called Minstrels, an 
order of professional rhyme-makers or reciters. 

by the Celts of Argyleshire, and the gradual 
esUiblishment of the Lowland Scottish language 
over the Celtic. Antiquaries are divided as to 
whether the Picts or Pehts were Goths or Celts, 
but the stronger evidence, as well as stronger 
probability, lies in favour of the latter supposi- 
tion. Chalmers, in his Caledonia, concludes 
that a Gothic dialect was unknown in ancient 
Scotland or Pictland, from the fact that the 
names of all the rivers, mountains, towns and 
castles of any note or antiquity are Celtic, not a 
Saxon name being found older than the twelfth 
century. If the Pictish tongue had been essen- 
tially different from the Gaelic, it is remarkable 
that no vestige of it should remain,* or if the 

• "No vestige."— This i» not strictly the caie, for, 
it seems, one itingle Piciioli word tiHs come down to us, 
whicli has been n fruitful source of dispute amon^ an- 
tiquaries. Tlie word i» Paenfahel, or Beuval, which 
Beda preserves as the Pictish name of a certain place 
at the east end of Antoninus's wall. Sir Waller Scott, 
in his inimitable n:)vel of *' The Antiquary," although 
himself deeply embued with an nrchaolojiical spirit, 
had too keen a sense of the ludicrous not to enjoy the 
absurd lengths to which antiquaries went in thtit 
speculations; arid accordingly he makes this solitary 
word a bone of fierce contention between Jonaihan 
Oldliuck and Sir Arthur Wardour. The scene is at 
once instructive and laughable, und our re.iders will 
thank us, we are sure, for quoting a portion of it. 

" ' There was once a people called the Pik*,' said 

* More properly Picts,* interrupted the baronet. 

' I say the, Pihar, Piochtar, Piaghter or 
Petightar,' vociferated O.dbuck: ' they spokea Gothic 

> Genuine Celtic,' again aaaeverated the knif ht. 



common to th« more civlHsed countriea of Eu* Aftil, to the 
rope, who cultivated the arts of poetry and ma« 
•ic, and rang in the halls of the rich and powtr- 

PicU themwUes had been a different nwe from 
the Celts, the blending or amalgamation iif tfaera 
with the Irigh-ScoU of Argjieshire under king 
Kenneth III. nbout the middle of the ninth 
Cf-'ntury is difficult to conceive. As to their to- 
tiU annihilation, no one now entertains the no- 
tion : their mime only, we majr suppose, came to 
b<j l( St or merged in the general term of Scott 
after their dominion was acquired by the Scots 
of the West. In the middle of the derenth cen- 
tury, and even down to its cioee, the language of 
all Scotland was the Gaelic, with the exoeptione 
<>f the Mersc and Lothians, which were for some 
time in the possession of the Anglo-Saxons, and 
of Scandinavian settlements in OrVtney, Caith- 
ness, and Sutherland. When Maleoliii Caen- 
more, who ascended the throne in 1006, married 

' Gothic'. Gothic! I'll go to death upon it!' ooua. 
ter-n»»everated the ►quire. 

'Why gentlemen.' aitid X.ovel. < I conceive this it ■ 
diopute which may be eaaily nettled by philoiogiata, if 
there are nny reuiKin* of the laDi^aH.' 

'There u but i>ne word,' said the Daronet, 'hot, ia 
vpite of Mr Oldbuck's pertinacity, it U decisive of the 

' Yes, in my favour,' said Oldbuck : * Mr. Level, 
you ihall be judge. I have the learned Pintiertou oa 
uiy tide.' 

'I, on mine, the indefatigable and emdite Cha!- 

soomwuiimeat otOfhurp, iinHiil 

of lore, and war, aad fflMaeaHa.** 

These If instrrla. who at o«ie thne were hMMvr 

'Gordon comei into my opinion.' 
• Sir Robert Sibbald ho^dk mine.' 

vociferated Oldbuck. 

*R«t*on has no doubt'.' shouted the baronet. 

'Truly gentlemen,' laid Level, 'before yuu master 
your force*, and overwhelm me with autbontica, i 
thould like to know the word in diapute.' 

* Beuval,' said both ditputants at once. 

* Which Dignifies caput valli,' said Sir Arthur. 
'The head uf the wall,* echoed Oldbuck. 

There was a deep pause.— ' It is rather a narrow 
foundation to build a hypothesis upon,* observed the 

' Nut a whit, not a whit,' said Oldbuck; « men flyht 
be>t in a narrow ring— au inch is as (ood a* a mile 
for a home-thrust.' 

'It is decidedly Celtic,' said the baronet, 'every 
hill in the Highlaud* begins with a Ben.' 

'But what »ay you to Val, Sir Arthur?— is it not 
decidedly the Saxon wrJl?' 

'It is the Roman vallum,' said Sir Arthur— 'the 
Picts borrowed that part of the word.' 

* No such thing: if they borrowed any thing, it mutt 
have been your Uen, which they might have firom the 
neighbuuriug Britons of Strath Cluyd.* 


Imipttoo henui4e Into KnglMid is MTO^ oarriid 
off math a nombrr of eaptlvee, tint flasoa «r> 
vaats were to be taaad tai atecat tvery bn— Ib 
theland.selBteMtlWNlt« •rUttfM L IV 
new dynasty flf SeottMl btsp «Im mammimi 
Malcolm OPMM4 ako ttbtnOte the eemlnr t» 
Saaon, Anglo-Kormaa, aad flemleli iplialHi. 
until the CelUe, whkh had beeti loof eaphWM 

• Tke Plks or riots,' said LomI. • araat heve bse* 
stagnlsrtjr pooe te disieal, stafoe la the eafar fOOMM^ 
word uf their voeabulaiy. aad Itel eoaetMaf e« aa||r 
two sylUblM. Utey kave besa eeelWiisd^y eihged to 
borrow one of tiMas ttmm wtb» IsaaeeM. B«k 

' what strikes ase wost to Um »ev«rto of tae bageec* 
which has Mt seek sUgtit veatigea behtad ic' 

• You are ia errur.' said 8ir Artbari ■ H was a e^ 

pious laacuage, aad they were a greet aad pmmmUX 
people i bedt two sieealea — eae as Beselda, vae at 
Aberaethy. The Ptetis^ asaMeaa ef the biead-t«f al 

e it resisted every atuA aad 

)>ste tiM Cdtte psiiyeatii Mac yiw- 
• . —what do TOW sey ta tbat, Mr 
I Diust Msenieraehia, Tryael 
>i-' { that ancient etaa. as May be 

jua,. . h MaevtonaM. Aipta MaeeMt*. 

gui, Dtu.t .M*ct*Uargam,'— (here Ita waa tataftapted 
bv a nt o( coagbtng) — • ugh, ugk, ngh— Oetarge Mea- 
rhan— ugh, ugh — Macchaaan— ugl' Maeebaaaaail, 
Kenneth— ugh, ugh — Macfaredith Kaebaa SlacfUa- 

ri»— and twenty more, dcctdetily Celtie asaies. wkiah 
could repeat, if this daasned cough woald let esc' 
* Take a glass of wine, Sir Arthar, aad driak d«w« 

name you repealed i Uey are all «f llM Irtbe 
of Macfungaa— miiaaroon asuaarclu esery oae a( 
Wtheoi.' " 



•d and patronized by priuce and peer as the 
chroniclers of their deeds, and the companions 
of their festive hours, gradually sunk in impor- 
tance with the decline of chivalry, and the pro- 
gress of arts and letters, until, not long after 
the introduction of printing, we find them 
classed among sturdy beggars, rogues, and vaga- 
bonds,* and described as " drunken sockets and 
bawdy parasites, that sing unclean songs in ale- 
houses, innes, and other public assemblies." 
The Harpers, in short, had degenerated, before 
the close of the sixteenth century, into mere 
" crowders" or violin players, the frequenters of 
fairs and festivals, with no higher status in 
ciety than our modern street ballad mongers, or 
the humbler portion of our street musicians. 

A number of our old heroic and romantic hal- 
lads either owed their origin to the metrical ro- 
mances of the ancient Minstrels or formed the 
germ of these productions. Dr Leyden inclines to 
the former, Motherwell to the latter hypothesis. 
" Many of the wild romantic ballads which are 
still common in the Lowlands of Scotland," says 
Leyden," have the appearance of episodes, which, 
in the progress of traditional recitation, have 
been detached from the romances of which they 
originally formed a part. Several of the ancient 
songs in the Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, 
and in the Minstrelsy of the Border, are of this 
description. The popular songs which relate to 

in the Southern and South Eastern parts of 
Scotland, gradually gave way before its more 
literate rival in other parts of the lowlands, and 
kept possession only of the hills and islands of 
the North and West. 

* Still, so late as the time of James VI., there 
is an exception made in favour of the Minstrels 
of great lords and the Minstrels of towns, who 
are not to be placed in the category of " ydill 
and Strang beggaris and vagaboundis" if they 
are " avowit in speciall service be sum of the 
lordis of parliament or greit Narronls, or be the 
held burrowis and citeis, for their common 

Mragons and monsters, authenticate their legltl. 
mate derivation from the tales of chivalr). 
Another class of popular songs, which describe 
the unnatural involvement of the passion of 
love, may, with propriety, be referred to the 
ancient romances." " It appears to me more 
probable," says Motherwell, " that romance 
has been indebted to the ballads rather than the 
reverse. As society advanced in refinement, 
and the rudeness and simplicity of earlier ages 
partially disappeared, the historic ballad, like 
the butterfly bursting the crust of its chrysalis 
state, and expanding itself in winged pride 
under the gladdening and creative influence of 
warmer suns and more genial skies, became 
speedily transmuted into the Romance of Chi- 
valry." Neither of these views, adopted exclu- 
sively, is probably the correct one: in some 
cases, the Ballad would be in all likelihood but 
a versification for the common ear of the Histo- 
rical Ronuince; in others, the Metrical Ro- 
mance might be formed on the ancient tradi- 
tionary Ballad. 

The romance of ** Sir Tristrem," by Thomas 
THE RuYMUR, Or Truc Thomas of Erceldoune, 
in Berwickshire, who flourished in the 13th 
century, is of higher antiquity than any English 
production of a similar class. The language 
does not differ in any material manner from 
that of England at the same period, and indeed 
in that particular a wonderful resemblance ex- 
ists between the old poets of. both countrieii. 
" If," says Sir Walter Scott, " Thomas of Ercel- 
doune did not translate from the Fredch, but 
composed an original poem, founded upon Cel- 
tic tradition, it will follow that the first classical 
English Romance was written in part of what 
is now called Scotland." 

Thomas the Rhymer preceded by a hundred 

years, John Barbour, archdeacon of Aberdeen, 

[bom about 1316 ; died 1396.J who is generally 

recognized as the earliest of our distinguished 

i^ Scottish poets, and whoso " Life of King Robert 



the dM<U or Seotland't sreatnt toyl hero. 

at dates aomcwhat latar. BiCMi ^mM ttmm 

AOer Barbour, floaruhfed Aiidasw WTiirooit, 

aa oU Barktea MS. a taaat mad* bjr th» fcato 

prior of Lochleveti. and Bliko Hamtot Beory 

apoetlMskfe«rBerwkk(lSM.I wlUto jvt tk» 

of Scotland, in rhjme, and the latter the ork- 

take the lOaoa. 

brater of the ezploiu of Sir WUUam Wallace, 

▼olgarized paraphraae of William HamUton of 

Gilbertfleld,* hare rooaed and eberUhcd the 


patriotiam of manjr a generation, and which 

Aad after gas dikM hfaa.t 

" a tide of Scottieh pr^udioe that would con- 

The town, bowvrer, was •fantaallf talMi fcy 

tinue to boil there tUl the floodgates of life were 

•hut in everlasting reet." 

None of the naniee bera mentioned belong 

properly to the Song-writen of Scotland ; but 

might have gone two daj* with tha Htcbm «# 

Barbour refers to the ballads of his day .f and io 

blood from tlMdalat 

sidered to be the most ancient specimen of Scot- 

tish song extant, a UmenUtion, namely, on the 

calamitous death of Alexander III., who was 

killed by a fall fh)m his horse in 1S86. Wyn- 


toun says. 

Xartau orSadaada, Mta may y« mom*. 

Tuts Sano was made of him for thL 

Quhen Al>sander, oure kynge, was dede. 


That ScoUand led in lewe and le. 

What! wMMth [Imaciaatii] (h* kli« «# Im* 

Away wes sons of ale and brede. 


Off wyne and wax, off gamyn and gle ; 

Owre gold wes changyd into lede : 

Cryst, borne into vergynyte. 
Succour Scotland and remede 

That stad is in i^rplexitie. 

SeotehforotiueoriMA*. IMfae atede* totfc* 
dyke* or walU by whteh th* towa wa* prnHciM. 

• Hamilton's version of Blind Harry was first 
published in the year 1723, and has since gone 
through innumerable editions. 

t See particularly hU allusion to a rictory 

bly old efaorani or *-1*>f^ Thaa, la " PahUt 

which the governor of Eskdale gained over a 

to the Play," 

body of English, and 

quhasM likes thai msy hesr 

Hop. CeiWc. a*4 CedfMa, 
Gstheted o«t thick 4AM ( 

Young women, quhen thu plsy. 
SiBK it saajig them ilk day. 

The Brace.— Book svi. 4 

Th* yoaag folks mmn laU baaM. 

■ — — ■ _ ::^j 



** Thys songe," continues Fabyan, " was after' 
many daies song in daunces in the carols of the 
maidens and mynstrelles of Scotland, to the re- 
profe and disdayne of Englyshemen, with dyuers 
others, whych 1 ouerpasse." 

One hundred years after Bannockburn, — for 
during that long period no further traces of 
Scottish song worth recording occur — and we 
reach the reign of a prince, James I., the most 
illustrious of the house of Stuart, who may be 
pronounced, in addition to his eminence in 
serious and imaginative poetry, as the first who, 
la his "Peblis to the Play," opened up that 
store of rich, humorous, and graphic description 
of common life by which the Scottish muse has 
been ever since so prominently distinguished. 
James was born in Dunfermline in 1394, and 
in 1405, while on his way to France to have his 
education completed, and to be beyond the 
reach of his uncle Albany's plots, his vessel 
was seized by a fleet of English merchantmen 
(though England and Scotland were then under 
a truce of peace) and he himself delivered into the 
hands of Henry IV., -who most unj ustly detained 
him prisoner, jestingly remarking that he could 
teach him French as well as the king of France. 
The captivity of the young prince in England 
lasted for no less than nineteen years (the same 
period during which his unfortunate descendant) 
Mary, was held captive by Elizabeth,) but, sav- 
ing the confinement, he seems to have been not 
rigorously treated, and he received the benefit 
of an excellent education. While detained in 
Windsor castle, he saw walking in the garden, 
and fell passionately in love with, the daugh- 
ter of the duke of Somerset. This circum- 
stance is beautifully depicted in his poem call- 
ed " The King's Quhair," or Book, and has 
often been made the subject alike of the poet's 

pen and the painter's pencil.* Jamei eventually 
obtained his liberty, on the faith of a ransom of 
forty thousand pounds, which was never fully 
paid, and which certainly was a claim founded 

Some consider them to be sea phrases, and to 
bear allusion to Edward's narrow escape by sea 
after the battle. 

* He thus describes his weary imprisonment, 
and the appearance of his mistress as he first 
saw her from Windsor Castle : — 

Where as in ward full oft I would bewail 
My deadly life, full of pain and penance. 

Saying right thus, what have I guilt to faille. 
My freedom in this world, and my plesance? 

Sen every wight has thereof suftisance. 
That I behold, and I a creature 
Put from all this, hard is mine aventurc ? 

The bird, the beast, the fish eke In the sea. 
They live in freedom everich in his kind , 

And I a man, and lacketh liberty ; 

Wliat shall I seyne, what reason may I find. 

That fortune should do so ? Thus in my mind. 
My folk, I would argue, but all for nought. 
Was none that might that on my peynes 

Then would I say, Gif God me had devised 

To live my life in thraldom thus and pyne. 
What was the cause that he more me com- 
Than other folk to live, in such ruyne ? 
I suffer alone among the flguris nine, 

Ane woeful wretch that to no wight may 

And yet of every lyvis help has need. 

The long dayes and the nyghtis eke, 

I would bewail my fortune in this wise ; 

For which again distress comfort to seek. 
My custom was, on mornis, for to rise. 

Early as day : O happy exercise ! 

By thee came I to joy out of torment, 
But now to purpose of my first intent. 

Beveailing in my chamber thus alone. 
Despaired of ali joy and remedy, 

For-tirit of my thought and woe-begone. 
And to the window gan I walk in hy, 

To see the world and folk that went forby, 
As for the time though I of mirthls food. 
Might have no more, to look. It did ma good. 


on injiutioe. At th« nm« time, he waa nuurWdd 
to the lady who bad captWatad hit heart and 
initpired hia mute at Windsor, receiTint as her 
marriage portion a discharge for ten thousand 
pounds of his ransom money I It was In 14S4, 

Now was there made, fast by the ti>uris wall, 
A garden fitir, and in the corners set 

Ane herbere green, with wandis long and 
Bailed about, and so with treia act 

Was all the place, and hawthorn hedges koet. 
That life was non walking there (brbjr. 
That ntiight within scarce any wtght capgr. 

And on the smalle greene twistis sate 
The little sweete nightingale, and »ung 

Bo loud and clear, the hymnis conspcrate 
or lufls use, now soft now loud aiiiong. 

That all the gardens and the wallis rung 
Right of their song, and on thu copill Dcxt 
Of their sweet harmony, and lo thu t*xt. 

Worship, O ye that lorers l)ene this May, 
For of your bliss the kalendis are begun. 

And sing with us, Away, wmter, away, 

Gume summer, come, the sweet season and 

Awake, for shame ! that hare your hcvynls won, 
And amorously lift up your hedis all, 
Thank lore that list you to hii mercy call. 

And therewith cast I down mine eye again. 
Where as I saw walking under the tower. 

Full secretly, new cuii>yn her to pleyne. 
The fkirest and the freshest younge flower. 

That ever I saw, methought, before that hour ; 
For which sudden abate, anon astert. 
The blood cf all my body to my heart. 

Of her array the form gif I shall write. 
Toward 'ler golden hair and rich attire. 

In fretwise aouchit with perils white. 
And greate bnlas Icmyng as the fire, 

With many an emerant and (air sapphire. 
And on her head a ohaplet fresh of hue, 
Of plumy 8 parted red, and white, and blue. 

faith* thirtieth jewflT hta i««, llM JaiM* stm 
tertowd to hk Uberly —4 Mmd— i aaiMme- 
taunioff to hb Mtif* lw»d. 

BHBbv ar MMBlao. who Mir 
fltiiaff o p po rfH y to ■0Bwn|>liA hh 
B« «M osMMi— led at Petth te 

▲boat hOT MOk. white M tho lyre Moalllo, 
A goodly eh^ of nnotl es fc sfyo. 

Whereby thero baog • nby, wMh«M Ml, 
Like to aao hewty ehupMS verily. 

That, as A spark oTIow* eo wmatMly 
Seemed bamlos apoa har whit* lhf««t. 
How glf there was (ood ptrdo, Ood It watik 

And ibr to walk that Aath* Maian aaiiMr. 

Ao* hook sb* had apon har tkmm whit*. 
That goodlier had aot beee asaa lafciewt. 

As I suppos*. and girt eh* waa al yt* : 
Thus halttyng loo** Itor haatr. to aaah deflflH. 

It was to ■** har youth hi towlHhead, 

That fbr ntdaoeas to speak th*r*or I drtad. 

In har waa youth, bMialy, with hmobi* part^ 
Boaaly. rlebeaae, and wMnaaly lOtwa^ 

Wiadosn, largaeaa **tau. aad aoayi^ « 

In word. In deed, la shape, la « , 

That aator* might no mors bar ehOd avanaa. 

• As an instanae oT the aanica jaetla* with 
which James proeroutcd his purpQae,asd aleoof 
the barbarity of the age, we may aite tbe M» 
lowing. One Maodonald, a petty chleflala of 
the north, displeased with a widow as hi* catat* 
fur threatening to appeal to the king* had or> 
liered her feet to be shod with iron plat** aattsd 
to the soles ; and then insultingly U'ld har that 
she was thus armed against the roofb t«ada. 
The widow, however, found means to send her 
story to James, who seised Macdonald, with 
twelve of his ass<'clates, whom he shnd with iroa 
in a similar manner, and having expoeed than 
for several days in KdinburgU, gave thcsi avvr 
to the executioner. 


Fob. 143fv7, iu the 42d year of his age, the' 
principal conspirators being the Earl of Athol, 
Sir Robert Graham, uncle to the Earl of Strath- 
ern and Robert Steuart, the kings nephew.* 

James I. was a prince of universal accomplish- 
ments, and particularly distinguished himself in 
the sister arts of poetry and music. On the 
very night of his assassination, he is described to 
have been engaged " yn rcdyng of romans, 
syngyng and pypynge, in harpyng, and in other 
honest solaces of grete pleasaunce and disport. 
Boethius, as translated by Bellenden, saye, " H 
was richt crafty in playing baith of the lute 
and harp ; " and Bower, a cutemporary of James, 
in his continuation of Fordun's history, n 
lions the following instruments upon which he 
was a proficient : — the tabour, the bag-pipe, the 
psaltery, the organ, the flute, the harp, the 
trumpet, and the shepherd's reed. John Major, 
an historian (born about 1470, died 1550) says, 
" He was a most ingenious composer in his na- 
tive or vernacular language, and his numerous 
poems and songs are still held in the highest 
estimation among the Scottish people." Such, 
indeed, was his reputation as a musician, that 
he is represented by Tassoni, the Italian poet, 
in his " Pensieri Diversi," published in 1620, as 
the inventor of Scottish music, and this idea has 
been supported by other writers. Tassoni, in 
enumerating the illustrious persons in ancient 
and modern times who had cultivated music, 
says, " "We, again, may reckon among us mo- 
derns, James king of Scotland, who not only 
composed many sacred pieces of vocal music, 
but also, of himself, invented a new kind qf 

* iEneas Sylvius, afterwards Pope Eugene IV., 
who was in Scotland as Legate at the time, says 
that he was at a loss which most to applaud, 
the universal grief that overspread the nation 
on the death of the king, or the resentment to 
which it was roused, and the just vengeance 
with Which bis inhuman murderers were pur- 


■mtuic, plaintive and melancholy, diffh-ent frvm 
all others ; in which he has been Imluted by 
Carlo Gesualdo, Prince of Venosa, who, in our 
age, has improved music with new and admira* 
ble inventions." It will be observed that Taaso* 
ni here does not specify which James of Scot- 
land had so distinguished himseli', but there can 
be no doubt that James the First, from his pre- 
eminence as a musician and other circumstan- 
ces, vvas the monarch meant.f Tassoni, how- 
ever,- in attributing the invention of Scottish 
j music to James, is not borne out by the evidence 
of any historian, and his view is at variance witJi 
the probability of things. " Whatever obligationi 
we owe to this most talented and patriotic 
monarch," says Mr Dauney, in his Preliminary 
Dissertation to the Ancient Melodies of Scot- 
land, '* we should just as soon think of ascrib- 
ing to him the invention of our language as of 

our music Neither Bower, who was 

James's contemporary, nor Boethius nor M^or, 
both of whom wrote nearly a hundred years 
after his death, and who successively treat of his 
musical skill, and accomplishments, says one 
word which would lead us to suppose that he 
composed Scottish music. Boethius says that 
he instituted regular choirs in the churche.s, 
and introduced into the cathedrals and abbeys 
organs of an improved construction ; and Ma- 
jor's observations, which have been sometimos 
misapprehended, and supposed to relate to the 
composition of music, obviously point to bit 
literary and not to his musical works." At the 
same time, Mr Dauney admits it'to be no un- 
feasible hypothesis, that this monarch improved 
the music of his kingdom, and says that " con- 
sidering his extraordinary musical taste and 
acquirements, if our national music had been 

t Pinkerton supposes James V. to be Intend- 
ed, and Ritson hints at James VI., although 
the latter was, when Tassoni wrote, relunin:? 
king of England, and would have been spoken 
[^ of accordingly. 



• Twoofking JaiD«*iidMifflitanM«n to ha?* 
inherited « portion of their flitb«r*i iplriC and 
love of poetry. M wtartt, tb* cidnt daogbtar, 
was married to the Daa|^n of Fraseo, (altera 
wards Louia XI.) at Toart. la 14K. la tlM 
Abbe Maariea'a Hirtorjr of Fmch PooCry, it to 
reeorded, that, while walkinf tbroech the gal- 
lery of the palace, and eeelag the poet Alaia 
Chartier asleep, she ktased him i aad en Mag 
remonstrated with by the ladles la aMeadaaos 
on the impropriety of the action, the said, that 
she did not kin the man, bat the mouth, which 
had uttpred to many fine sajlngs. " That ki«,** 
It was remarked, " will immortalise her." 
Margaret lived an unhappy life with her hao> 
band, the gtoomj^ tyrant so masterly portia|od 
in Sir Walter Seott's romance of "Qointsa 
Durward." She died in 1443, at the early a«e 
of twenty-six, deeply mourned by all France. 
An Elegy writu-n on her, in French, was or- 
dered by her brother, James II., to be translat- 
ed into her native tongue. — Eleanorr, a sister of 
Margaret's, was mamed in 1448 to Sigismund, 
the Arrhduke of Austria; and translated the 
roniance of " Ipomydon," for the amuMiiiaiit of 

amelloratad la hto time, no one was, parhapa,£theso soags hat* 

•0 well qoaliOMl fur the task." 1 1 to tha Play" (poitteatorly 

Lord fames, in his Sketches (1774), was tha , ' to tha oa)y piMt of hto la tha 
first to direct attention to the passigs of 1 
nl, and it is dwelt upon with gr«at exaltation by I j titles of two 
Mr Tytler, in hU DiMertation on Scottish Mosie 1 1 (" Theta ftna aaoaaaa totho 
0779). One portion, however, of the parMT»pb !«*n ho oalrth at ow BMOtli 
to misconstrued by these writers, who read it as 
If the Prince of Yenoaa imiuted tha Scottish 
node, whereas Tassoni only meant to say that 
the prince imiuted the eemdtui of king James aa 
a cultivator and inventor of music. Nona of 
the Prince of Yenosa*s eompositioos bear any 
resemblance to the Scottish melodies, as is shown 
by Dr Dumey, and the true Interpretation of tha 
passage undoubtedly to, that tht psi a oo Ibrmsd 
a parallel. In hto musical invaatioiM, to tta 
Scottish monarch.* 

Mijor. as we have already qaotod, mantlOBO 
James as the composer of namaroos pooms mmd 
mm%$ held in tlU kigkett uHmmtiom, bat Boat of 

t AsMiOwU*^ aotloM 
JanoM L. hto tostlmoay as ta 
Pehlto to tha Play** to 

hotk kf 
It, at 

spoiUtod by MiOor aa hagtostag ** rasasm" 
a wiaptto a kr *• AMyaT [rfaae that]. 

f Th«y aia tkat tottodaasd la stanaao slat 
and twaaty-lfth of ** PMto to tha Phv.** 

As eaat aa o«y aalt, 
Aaa Mrkan hat apoa hto held. 

With aaa bow aad mam baitt 
BMd, Mcrrto maldMM, think aot 

Tha weather to telr aad smolti 


He flppint like ana fkthorVos Ibal. 

And saM. Be stUl, my swait thiag. 
By the Italy Bode of Pcblto, 

I may nocbt rset for «rriting. 
Be quhlssilit and ha pyplt balth, 

Tu mak her biytha that meitlag 
My bonny heart, how my% the Sang f 

** Thsiv aaU be mirth at oar moiUag 


Of Pcblto to the Play. 

Bongs are given as then in popular use, all ofsfe Henry VII. of England— a marriage 

which are lost. * 

The century which elapsed hetween the reigns 
of James I. and James V. might be called the 
Augustan age of Scottish poetry. During that 
period flourished, not to mention names of mi- 
nor note, Henrysone, Dunbar, Gawin Douglas, 
and Sir David Lyndsay. None of these, with the 
exception of Henrysone, can be called song- 
writers, yet, for the sake of connection, a word 
may be said of each. 

Robert Henrysone, a preceptor in the Ben- 
pdictine convent of Dunfermline [born 1425; 
died 1495.] was author, among other things, of 
the earliest known pastoral ballad in the lan- 
guage, and one of great merit, entitled, " Ro- 
bene and Makyne," which opens thus : — 

Robene sat on gud grene hill, 

Keipand a flock of fle, 
Mirry Makyne said him till, 

Robene thou rew on me: 
I haef the lovit, lowd and still, 

Thes yieris two or thre ; 
My dule in dern bot gif thou dill. 

Doubtless bot dreid I die. 

"WitLiAM Dunbar, who holds beyond dis- 
pute the first rank among our elder Scottish 
poets, was born about 1465, and died about 
1520. Almost all that is known of him is to be 
gathered from his own writings. He was a na- 
tive of Lothian, and in his youth appears to 
have travelled through France and England as 
a novice of the Franciscan order, and in more 
advanced years to have been a constant atten- 
dant at the court of James IVth, whose mar- 
riage with Margaret Tudor, eldest daughter of 

* See the Preface p. iv, v. to the present work. 
There the titles are enumerated, and also those 
mentioned in later productions — Gawin Dou- 
glas's Prologues, and the Complaint of Scot- 

tous in its consequences as leading to the ulti- 
mate union of the crowns and union of the 
kingdoms — he celebrates in his beautiful poem, 
entitled, " The Thistle and the Rose." Dunbar 
was a hanger on for church preferment, but 
seems to have died comparatively neglected. In 
one of his latest poems, *' Lament for the Death 
of the Makkaris" or Poets, he speaks in great 
despondcHcyof hisown state, while he commem- 
orates with generous warmth the names of his 
brother bards.f Kennedy even, with whom he 
held the celebrated " Fiyting," is affectionateiy 
spoken of; but indeed we incline to believe with 
those who think that the " Fiyting" was a mere 
trial of wit and skill, and that no real rancour, 
but on the contrary the utmost good humour, 
existed between the parties. 

Gawin Douolas, bishop of Dankeld, is well 
known for his poetical version of the whole 
-^neid of Virgil, a task which he finished iu 
the year 1513, and which was published in 1553, 
with original prologues to each book of great 
beauty. This translation preceded any English 
versification of Virgil, that classic being only 
known to the English reader through a romance 
on the siege of Troy published by Caxton, which 
Bishop Douglas humorously pronounces to be 
no more like Virgil than the devil is like St. 

Sir David Lykdsay of the Mount [born 
about 1490 ; died 1557.] was in his youth page 
and companion to James V., and afterwards in 
1530 appointed Lyon king at Arms. He espous- 
ed the principles of the Reformation, and by his 
dramas and satiric descriptions forwarded the 
cause. His works are numerous. Perhaps hJs 

t It is worthy of note, that of ttvtniy-thru 
poets mentioned by Dunbar, most of them his 
owTi contemporaries, the writings ol no less than 
thirteen are, with the exception of one or two 
t'rugments, lost. 


be*t is hk iMt— "Squire Metdmin.'* 
parliainenu of 1M4, 45. 46, be npnmntad 
Cupar in Fife, of which county ba wac a natlra. 
" The Gaberlunyle-man"* and " The JolUe 
Beggar, "t two aongi of sterling buin»ur, an 
■aid to belong to the age of Jamu thb Ytm, 
and indeed tht;ir authorship i« aaeribed to that 
merrj' yet unfortunate monarch bimeelf. Jaiue* 
wa« called the King cif the Commons, from bis 
popular manners and pursuits, and !t is well 
known that he was in the babit of strotling 
al>out the country in disguise, witb tbe double 
Tiew, probably, of indulging his natural lore of 
adrenture, and of ascertaining tbe real wants 
and undisguised opinions of bis saltjects. * If, 

* Gaberlunyie, fW>m gabtr a wallet, and ImnyU 
the luins. Hence a trarelling tinker or beggar, 
carrying a wallet on his side, was called a Oaber> 
lunyie man. " The Gaberlunzie's Wallet" Is the 
title of a work recently published at Edinburgh 
by Mr James Ballantine, which contains a 
number of Scottish poems and songs of great 
merit. The title, however, it will be observed 
from the above definition, is open to the charge 
of tautology. 

f We were rcluctintly obliged, fW)m the sub- 
ject of the pioco, to omit the " Jollie Beggar" in 
the presentcollection.It is remarkable, that dur- 
ing the wintt-T ot i 844-45, the song seems to 
have been resuscitated among tbe populace, for 
it became remarkably popular as a street song, 
and nothing was to be beard from ballad-moa- 
g«rs but 

" We'll gang naemaira-roving, a-roving in tbe 

We'll gang nae inair a-roving, tho' tbe moon 
shine ne'er ao brighu" 

X The story of Me Gudeman qf Ballangeioeh Is 
well known. Tbe following, however, may b« 
n«'w to most of our readers. James, on one oc- 
casion, dii-guised as a pedlar or the like, heitnt 
himself abused by a country lad as a tyrant and 
all that was odious, until, unable to restrain 
himself, he threw ofT his disguise, and told hi- 
was king. " Are you really the king ?" said the 
Uul, retaining his self-possession ; " Weel, yeMI 

In tte^tbcnAiras k* «w mA ti 

he mifht te the MltfeM «r ttew, Mi< MV te kto 

>b » tii M > |k II 


aee Uat Imh 
borads or ptobabttUgr Um» IM «w* 
aalbor of tlw mmm- '•*» Be U e n i wi aai fli 
David 1 

of bin M OM wk* lii<»ltii IB F««C*7» Md 
Dmmmood of HawthorsKlMi my, '* itaam ▼. 
was naturally given to pocste. ■• many «t hie 
works yet cstnat Ut/Utf.' It !• • pMjr that 
Dmmtnoitd daw net wfntMjj nayoT iheee worhti 
b«t oM eslehnilid pim '* Chrtets Kirfcoa the 
Green**— la very fM«aU]r Mtetad to be a ff 
duetion of Jame* Y4 IftmmammmA, la parttM* 
lar.tobeM by Bhhap 1>W^, lU l i i , tt hh ald. 
and Qecwge OhakMR, all ooOeatom «f iMnOag 
and dlscfiinlaattoa) and If Moh wm* Iha tMr, 
there eaa bo M» dUBwUty la Mppoilac tho 
author of thai poom, admirable alike Ibr lu 
truth of doeorlptloa and hankour, to be aloo the 
author of tho two oong*. Wo havo oooMthuoe 
thought that Sir David Lyndaajr. who wao e«i 
I terras of pereonal Intimacy with Jamao, aad to 
whom Jamce appears to have aeal a poe lt oal 
" flyUng" (a Cashioo then la vec<a amoag the 
makkarie,) might bo tho aathwr of tho wage, or 
might bava glvoa tlMm a helping hand, oitppa** 
ing them to botoag to that ago t but on review* 

maybe ba'e heard o' my father : he gaed daft Uiree^ ^and waa probably written by lames 

days regubiriy every year, and la a' toat UU'O 
spoke natbing but lice and uooeeneoi aow I'm 
exactly tbe wnte way, m»d Iku u aaee'ny thrr* 
day*." Tbe king, it may be readily behevoU. 
pardoned tbe Ud for the Ingenuity aad hamoar 
of his escape. 

f A good deal ofeonAutoncsloti with regaH 
to the authorsblpo of tbo ftnt and the urtii 
Jnroco, sometimce the same pkocs being ascribed 
to the one, and oosnctlmoo to tho otb*tr ; but the 
opinion or tho boot critlea bow io» that Jamee I. 
wrote «• Peebles to tho Ptay," and that *' Chrie* - 
Kirk on the Green** waa a Uter prodncUii. 



lug their style and language, we are compelled 
to admit our belief, that they in reality belong I 
to a date posteri«jr to James V. " The Gaber- 
lunyie-man" appeared first in Ramsay's Tea- 
Table Miscellany, where it bears the signature 1 , 
and " The Jollie Beggar" is first found in Herd's 
collection, 1776. 

James Vth was born at Linlithgow in April 
1512, and was only about a year and a half old 
when his father fell at Flodden. He was early 
called to the administration of the government, 
and appears to have ruled with equity and firm- 
ness. But his reign was by no means fortunate, 
and the defeat at Solvvay Moss is said to have 
hastened his death. He died in Falkland Castle 
in 1542, leaving only a female child as his suc- 
cessor, a family of several sons having pre- 
deceased him. That child, however, was one 
destined to bear a name which has obtained an 
universal celebrity, and whose history has awak- 
ened the sympathies of every succeeding genera- 
tion — Mary, Quken of Scots. Of this prin- 
cess, Ritson ("albeit unused to the melting 
mood,") speaks with the most enthusiastic ten- 
derness. "Not less remarkable for the accom- 
plishments of her mind," he says, "than for 
the beauty of her person, she rvrote the tnott ele- 
gant songs, and sung to her lute like an angel." 
He admits, however, that the songs were in 
French; "but," he adds, "it is by no means 
improbable that she occasionally condescended 
to honour her native tongue, which, barbarous 
and discordant as it sounded in the delicate ears 
of the French courtiers, she pronounced with 
such a grace as to make it appear even to them 
the most sweet and agreeable."* 

* A popular tradition prevails, that David 
Rizzio, the Queen's French secretary, was the 
composer of many of our finest Scottish tunes, 
but the tradition is totally unsupported by any 
authentic record. Thomson, in his Orpheus 
Caiedonius, 1725, and Oswald, in his Scots 
Tunes. 1740, mark several tunes in their re-< 

The era of Queen Mary, stgnallzed aa it was 
by religious and political contention, ooaid 
icarcely be supposed propitious to the cultiva- 
tion of the Muses, and accordingly few nameii 
present themselves during this epoch. Ai.kx- 
ANDEK Scot (of whose history, however, nothing 
is knowii) belongs to this period, and bis pieces 
are eminently marked by a lyrical character. 
One, in particular — his Address to his Heart — 
might, with a very slight change, pass for a 
modern production. It opens thus : 

Return thee hamewart, Hairt, agane, 

And byde quhair thou was wont to be ; 
Thou art ane fule to suffer pane 

For love of her that loves not thee. 
My hairt, lat be sic fantesie : 

Love nane bot as they mak thee cause ; 
A nd let her seik ane hairt for thee ; 

For feind a crum of thee sche fawis. 

spective collections as the composition of David 
Rizzio, but this was merely to give them addi- 
tional importance. It is now ascertaineil that 
the tunes which Oswald marked as Rizzio's 
were all Oswald's omn. Thomson in the second 
edition of his Orpheus, 1733, omits Riszio'i 
name entirely, being probably ashamed of con- 
tinuing the imposition. Rizzio was not three 
years in Scotland altogether, when he met his 
death. Birrel, a contemporary, says, in his 
Diary, that he was well skilled in poetry and 
music, but it was the poetry and music of 
France, where he had received his education. 
Rizzio's introduction to court was humble 
enough, and argued no very high distinction as 
a musician. It is thus narrated by Sir James 
Melville in his Memoirs : — " Queen Mary had 
three valets, who sang three parts, and she 
wanted a person to sing a bass or fourth part. 
David Rizzio, who had come with the ambassa- 
dor of Savoy, was recommended as one fit to 
make the fourth in concert, and thus he was 
drawn in to sing sometimes with the rest; and 
afterwards, when her French secretary retired 
himself to France, this David obtiiiucd the said 



Tbe productlona of another poet of a e o m e i 
what later period — Ai.KzAKDKm MorrooMUV, 
author of " The Cherrie and the Stae," are alao 
characterised by their lyrical tpirit. From hie 
name, and also from hla eclebratinf in mne 
of hit piece* Lady Margaret Moatgomety, eJdeet 
daughter of Hugh the third earl of £f liatoa, ha 
was probably connected with tbe hoaeeof Kglla- 
ton, a supposition strengttaeoed bjr the flMi of 
hU intimacy with Robert Scmpai, fbarth laed of 
that name, a voluminoue veraiAer of that pefto4> 
belonging to Renfrewshire, aad to wboM eoUa* 
teral desceudanU. tbe Sempitto af Btltreee, ha«« 
been ascribed several popiUar poaiiieaa4 mqi 
In the UUe-page of bis works, MoBtfOOMiy le 
styled Captain, aad bis pwiftsetoa was perhaps 
that of a soldier. He appeal* to have died 
wmewber* between tbe years IBBT aa4 1610. 
Hto allegortaal poem of *' Tbe Oberrle aad tbe 
Slae,'* although ooodemoed by Piakertoa, has 
tieen long an established fisToarlte, aod his pos* 
tical works have been oflener re^prloted la n- 
eent times than tboss of any of our otbsr old 
Scottish poet*. From his lyric efftaslons ws may 
quote the following luscious deseriptkm of Lady 
Margaret Montgomery. 

Hlr curling loks lyk golden rings 
About hir hevinly haflkt* hings ; 

Quhilk do decore 

Her body more, 

Quhom I adore 
Above all things. 

nir brouls are brent ; lyk golden threeds 
Hir siluer shining brees ; 

• Sir James SempiU of Beltrees, a cousin* 
german of Lord Sempill, was auttior of " The 
Packman-8 Pater Noster," and Francis Sem- 
pill, his son, is said to have been the author of 
"She rose and let me in," "Maggy Lauder," 
and " The Blythsome BridaL 

TlM homy httaki my e03fa«» ftaia 

fMaUtag ahUBlw 

or rid aad wityt ymlzt. 
Ar lyk tho magasae Jobs go ar 

Hlr mouth mellefloooa, 
Ulr brmtblog savoroos, 

Hir rosie Uppis most aoUoeat, 

Ulr teeth lyk pearia oTorleal. 

Rlr ha&s mof« why! 

Kor I eaa wfyt; 

With that perfyt. 

And mpieot. 

Hb ecotall bretat of ivovta, 

Quhalron ar flxlt Out 
Toa twin* of dene Ttrginltle, 

Out throw hlr *i 
Malst oMrile kythss wlthla 

Hlr aaphlr veins lyk threldB <a aUk. 
Or TMets in whytasi milk 
If Natarsshea 
Hir bevlnlie bea 
In whyt and blew. 
It wee that Uk. 

Hir arme* ar long, hlr sbnlders braid* 
Hir middiU gent and small i 

Tbe mold is lost wbarin woe makl 
Tbl* a ^erM of all." 

• Allan Cunningham has fhecly moderalaH 
See farther on. ^several of Montgomoy's lyrtas, and tba oaa 


In the preface to the present work, p. v. will ^ 
be found a list of the titles of songs which ap- 
pear to have been popular in the sixteenth cen- 
tury, and which titles are given in Wedder- 
burn's Complainte of Scotland. Most of the 
songs enumerated there are lost, but among 
those preserved is one (conjectured to be by 
Alex. Scot) which may be quoted as a favoura- 
ble specimen of what was fashionable as a song 
in the 16th century. It is incorporated in the 
Bannatyne MS. 1568, and is also given in the 
Aberdeen Cantus so late as 1666. We follow 
the copy in the latter work. 

O lastie May, with Flora quene. 

The bahiij drops from Phoebus sheene 

Prelucent beam before the day ; 
By thee Diana groweth green. 

Through gladness of t^is lusty May. 

Then Aurora that is so bright 

To woful hearts she casts great light. 

Right pleasantly before the day. 
And shows and sheds forth of that light. 

Through gladness of this lusty May. 

Birds on the boughs, of every sort. 

Send forth their notes, and make great mirth 

On banks that bloom, and every brae ; 
And fare and flee ower every firth. 

Through gladness of this lusty May. 

And lovers all that are in care 
To their ladies they do repair. 

In fresh morning before the day; 

among the rest. The two last lines which we 
quote will remind the reader of a similar idea in 
one of the songs of Burns. Beauty seems to 
accompany the name of Eglinton. The " Su- 
sanna countess of Eglinton," to whom Ramsay 
dedicates his Gentle Shepherd, was a lady dis- 
tinguished for her personal attractions, as well 
as worth, and she had no fewer than seven 
daughters, all of whom were equally remarkable 
for their beauty. 

And are in mirth aye malr and malr. 
Through gladness of this luaty May. 

Of everie moneth in the year 

To mirthful May there is no peer ; 
Her glistering garments are so gay 

You lovers all make merry cheer 
Through gladness of this lusty May. 

The month of May seems to have been the 
favourite month of the year with all our ola 
Scottish poets, and Dunbar in particular bak 
celebrated it in verses of extreme beauty. In the 
above piece, there is nothing very characteristic 
of the Scottish Muse, but here is a fragment be- 
longing to the same period, and preserved by Mr 
David Laing, which breathes the true pathos of 
Scottish song. 

Fareweill, fareweill, my yellow hair. 

That curlit cleir into my neck! 

Allace ! that ever it grew sae fair. 

Or yet in to a snood was knet. 

Quhar I was wont to dance and sing; 
Araang my marrows mak repair- 
Now am I put furth of the ring. 
For fadit is my yellow hair. 

My kirtill was of lincum green, 
Weill lacit with silken passments rahr ; 
God gif 1 had never pridefuU been. 
For fadit is my yellow hair. 

God gif my hair had been als black 
As evir wes my heart full of cair. 
It wald not put me to sic lak. 
For fadit is my yellow hair. 

Quhen I was young I had great stait, 
Weill cherishit baith with less and mair ; 
For shame now steill I off the gait. 
For fadit is my yellow hair. 

The accession of James Vlth to the Englith 
throne in 1603, and union of the two crowog, 
> had in the first instance an unfhvourableeTict 


lOMwIi lilmMlf — ! ■ atead 

^^IB Iti alMi. WuxiAn AjjBAsaas, 

gmn: ■" »"ngiir ■nntlnmil tij fhi ■irtiiiiltT nf 
A «oart. ocaaed to bt oaad la StOBrj aoaifo- 
■ittOB b7 writers of rppotatloa. and tba httdlas 
poali of th* ooiiati7 omd* to odtlvato Tinlfah 

I Tlth waa aa aar^j votary of tka 
M««a. la ins, ha priatod at Kdlakotk. 
** Tba KHiyaa or a Praatiea la ihadMaaAit 
orFoaria." to whMh kt aS»d **Aaa Bchart 
AwMlM oaMriali« Maa BMdb aa« (katolk, 
tobaiil— III aa< nut mil la SMtite Ptaaiia.** 
TMswwkwMpaMtahcdwtaa ka mm Mava^y 
ataaCMB,aadiaoatk*«lMla aiailHaiila tokia 
talaato. la HW, ha pwtoea d a 

a ara aaed aot aaaaaamti^ 

aa aa aatkor, aad to ka»a aaak hh 
la paMia iiliii Ulia aMAI— r th 

tfcayilaairw. Itii 

of theilx JamaaMorSaatlaad, tteaa af tlMa 

rjamaa I.. V^ aad TL) iiii iifcllj' aaHHana 

Ml at Jnoddaa-flaM. [UUJ wm aa« aa|y a 
patroa of tha poati, bat iniadiaitly triad 

iK. JMaaa IT. 

1 Hafty, tka ■* 
of"- - 

1 his (Doabav^ patUiaaa la vow, 
aad ha preMnraa oaa of tha ktoff*a aaawan to a 
•apptieatiea whieh ha had prcaMtod, la tha 
dkaiaetv of aa oM borM. §» a hoaw to protwi 
bin. from Um aold agaiaat ChHrtniii. Tha 
kiog^ repljr was aa IbOoara: 

" Altar oar wi Htaga . tra 

Take ta thiifvv hetaa, o 

Wbldi hi ay aaaht. whh arrlea traa, 


Gar hoan hte ao». i«Klaat thb Tala. 
Aad bortc hha Mm a bMinp-j awh; 
yoT. with my haad, I ham ladaat 
To paj « 

] 8ta Btaaar At 
of nia« I ih, wtfc of 4a»a» VL jbt 
MM;] aad WtUiiaa Daoiuieaa m I 
raoaaaai [bora Umt diad !«•{] aai 
•ta af 

aat dMd,** aad tha aattaMi M aw af tlM < 


paafla. l^atkaa 

loay— nyof oarbtatihannNrlatta c 


ayflUa,** •*Tha »wa baahto," "Joiky 
Jeaay," ** Matatoa 
^Ufw.- *«AaM Boh Monta,** 



"Naney'ttc the greenwood gane," " The Carl aft 
he cam o'er the craft," " The auld Gudeman," 
** Although I l>e but a country lass," "The 
barring of the door," " Ower the hills and far 
away;' " My jo Janet," " Sae merry as we twa 
hae been," " Kind Robin lo'es me," " Norland 
Jocky and Southland Jenny," " Ettriek Banks," 
fee. Regarding the authorship of these songs, 
not the faintest trace remains : Whether they 
emanated from the cot of the peasant or the 
hall of the peer — whether they, were the produc- 
tions of sun-burned labour or lettered ease — of 
actors in the rural scenes described or mere 
lookers on — can now onlj be made matter of 
speculation ; but it is pleasing to reflect, that, 
notwithstanding the civil and religious wars 
which convulsed the country during the greater 
portion of this century, dividing society into 
the extremes of libertinism and fanaticism, the 
Lyre of Scotland was not suffered to stand all 
untouched, — that still some Unknown Minstrels 
lived, able to stir its strings into deepest pathos 
or wildest humour, and to make its strains 
heard not only above the fierce clamour of party 
struggles, but even amid the gloom that brooded 
over a persecuted people. 

Of the names belonging to the seventeenth 
century as Scottish song-writers, we can only 
mention four, — Francis Semple of Beltrees, — 
Lord Yester, — Lady Grizzel Baillie, and Lady 
Wardlaw. Semple is the reputed author of 
" The Blythsome Bridal" (p. 99), " She rose and 
let me in" (p. 244), and " Maggie Lauder," (p. 
259). Notices of him and of his claims will be 
found appended to the respective songs here 
specified. Lord Yestkr, afterwards Marquis 
of Tweeddale, who died in 1713, is said to have 
been the author of the original words to 
"Tweedside." An account of him will be found 
at p. 449, where the song is given. Lady Griz- 
lEL Bailme was the authoress of the exquisite 
fong, '* Were uae my heart licht I wad die," 
(l». 1S5), and Lauv Warclaw, the reputed 

authoress of " Hardyknute," is aiko now tQ»> 
pected of having written one or two of oaf 
finest ballads, viz. "Sir Patrick Spent" and 
" Gil Morice." Brief notices of each of these 
ladies will be found respectively at pp. 135 and 

The eighteenth century opened auspictously 
for Scottish song. In the very first year of that 
century, (1701,) a boy of fifteen was brought by 
his step-father from the wilds of Crawfurd-muir 
to Edinburgh, and apprenticed to a wig-maker. 
This boy was Allan Ramsat, the great leader, 
so to speak, of modern Scottish poets, and, until 
the days of Burns, the most distinguished name 
of which the lyrical muse of Scotland could 
boast. Allan was born on the 15th October, 
1686, at the village of Leadhills, in the parish of 
Crawfurd-muir, upper ward of Lanarkshire, an 
obscure hamlet on the banks of Glengoner, a 
stream tributary to the Clyde. He himself thus 
describes the place of his birth s — 

" Of Crawfurd-muir, born in Leadhill, 
Where mineral springs Glengoner fill 

Which joins sweet flowing Clyde, 
Between auld Crawfurd-Lindsay's towers, 
And where Deneetne rapid pours 

His stream through Glotta's tide : 
Native of Clydesdale's Upper Ward, 
Bi-ed fifteen summers there," &c. 

His father was manager of the lead mines in 
Crawfurd-muir belonging to the earl of Hope- 
toun, and was descended from a branch of the 
Ramsays of Dalhousie, and his mother, Alice 
Bower, was the daughter of a person who origi- 
nally came from Derbyshire as an overseer of 
the mines. Allan lost his father while yet a 
child, and his mother marrying a second time, 
he was brought up under the eye of a step- 
fiitder, who seems to have given him a uood 
, education, and who, as we have said, appren- 
ticed him ir his fifteenth year to a wi>?-nuikerin 

nsATcnr thk Bturo-wuTESs or Booruiinx 

XdinbiirKli. In tbow dayi, pvHvIti mmn Ib^ 
umir ftallMk blooa»— tb* priot of A good OM* 
w* •■« told, rmoglac from 10 to 80 g«laaM| bat 
▲Umi abaodoiMd the floarbhliif profcaioa Air 
that of bookaeller, a few jreiur* after bl* ap> 
prvntioechip was past, inclining more, a* b« 
phrawa it himMlf, to " Iin« tbo Inaido td tbo 
path" than to " thcok th« out." Bio Ant ahep 
was " at the tlgn of tbo Moreofjr, oppotlt* to 
ITiddry's W) nd." and bvm tbk plaflO bto mttf 
poetical production* oma aa t td. 1 
printed, m they war* wrtttao, la A 
or half •sheets. In which sis* ihtf foand a ready 
■ale, people euming to the habit of woding their 
children for " Allan Ram«a]r*t last pieoa.** In 
1716 he published an ediUon of " Christ's Ktrfc 
on the Green," with an additional canto of bis 
own. A second edition of it was pabUsbsd In 
1718, with a third canto suljolaad. and tbo 
whole ran through fire editions. Tbs 
tion In which bis own poams wert hsid 
to make a eolleetion of tbon, wbldl appcarsd la 
17S1, 4to. and which was so Ubsimlljr sal 
for that the poet is said to ha«« rsallasd fWnn It 
400 guineas. Tbs a p a ck as as cT soag^writlng 
whi^ be bad givra to lbs pabUe bavtag bera 
warmly rseal*ad.b« was ted hi 17S4 topabUsb 
the Arrt volanM of bis eolketloa of SOI 
adTcrtad to In this work—" Tbs Taa-Tabte Mte> 
eeltenr." Other tbrss volomcs IbUowsd, aad la 
the coarse of a few yvais this MIseellanjr raa 
through no leas than twelve editions. In tbs 
sams year (17!M) he published ** The ETsrgrseai 
being a collection of 8ooU pt>en)s wrota by tba 
Ingenioos hefore 1600/' 9 toIs. Most of tbess 
were from the Dannatyos MS. in the Adro* 
cates' Library : but one piece of great power and 
beauty, entitled " The Vision," a political alla- 
gory displaying Jaoobitical tandeoeics, which ba 
glTcs as an old production, was bis owa eompo> 
sition. In 17:15, ba publisbsd bis eslebratcd 
*'ttentls Shepherd." Foar yaars bsTors this, b* 
bad hMMd a pastonl skaldi aadsr th* tltte of 

fegr a wqosl aatfsr Ibal oT ** Jeaay aa4 1 
Tbsss iketobsa wsM so maah appraeoi of tgr Mi 
ftrteads, that bs was iadoasd to eatoad thsai to 
the furm of a rtgolar drama, which was satlto 
siastieaUy received bgr bis ooaotrymca, aad tlM 
popaiarily oT wbkb bsoaaw aabooadod. Ito 
tralli as a ptoCaia sT naliaaal aianati wasat 
oaw neogalssd Igr bigb aad tew| aad al- 
UM««b tbs paopit of Hisrteai •atottataoA at 

p rsss B UIiiiaS t tbey WMidaaa i i oif Il ia la i i w a r 
of " Tba Ckatle Bbepbsrd :" aad ov«r tb* wbol* 
eoaatry— la the laird's ball, lbs temaTs bora, 
aad tbs vlUag* laa«— ibs pisto waa psiiwniad, 
or porttoas or U attomptod, Iqr anatoar aatora «r 
aU laaka, «* gaatte aad aaavto" oftM asmMaii« 
tofetbsrla Its asblblttoa, aadtaaaH^ttla a 
styte wbtah was mM to br sarpMB tbs attompto 
of rioter Tbaspiaaa. ladasd, tb* pupatefHf 9t 
- Tba Osatte Bbipbstd" psaslmtod al aas Itoto 
lato tb* obtosMi iiiMiai «f ioriiij i aad sisag 
tba n»ost nUtorato byads, aay,wsa amsi^tba 
asr* ti tbs aoal^plt, *w wars to bs ftaad wbe 
ooold ae» rspsai taifs •* Maada" of *• Patta aad 
Bofcr." Tbb Is a popolatHr «ikMk •«« Iks 
posflM at Barna bav* a**«r loaakad.* 

a Of Uto ysan, Ika marito of *'Tba OoaUa 
OMpbard** bava ooms to bs dIsaaMd ta Mosa ar 
Magsflass, aad H is mililbiliwi to lad Ibat 


Baal, wbcto iebolanblp li oaly ■ 

orltteal aeamcB. la spaaklag of tbs < 

IIt* mertU of tb* celebrated Orsdl paMoeal 

vrltor, Tbeoeritas, and Bammy, Baal says, tba 

opaalag Ha* of oo* of tb* tetters songs bas 

moe* passion ia it than all Tbeooitoa. Tba 

arltto alloda* to tbe song begloniag 

•* By tb* dcUdoas warmasm of thy meotb,* 

sssp.fln. Tb* fsthnato wbteb Tbaanaa Ombp 

bell tabs* of '*Tb* Oantte Shepherd,- ta Ms 

SpcateBcasof tba Brithb Poets," te so tms ta 

After the publication of his drama, Ramsay^ the heads of Ben 


removed his shop from Niddry Street to the 
Luckenbooths, and instead of Mercury adopted 

refrain from quoting it here. " The admirers of 
the Gentle Shepherd," he says, " must perhaps 
be content to share some suspicion of na- 
tional partiality, while they do j ustiee to their 
own feeling of its merit. Yet, as this drama 
is a picture of rustic Scotland, it would per- 
haps be saying little for its fidelity, if it 
yielded no more agreeableness to the breast of a 
native than he could expound to a stranger by 
the strict letter of criticism. We should think 
the painter had finished the likeness of a mother 
very indifferently, if it did not bring home to 
her children traits of indefinable expression 
which had escaped every eye but that of familiar 
affection. Ramsay had not the force of Burns; 
but, neither, in just proportion to his merits, is 
he likely to be felt by an English reader. The 
fire of Burns's witand passion glows through an 
obscure dialect by its confinement to short and 
concentrated bursts. The interest which Ram- 
say excites is spread over a long poem, delineat- 
ing manners more than passions; and the niind 
must be at home both in the language and 
manners, to appreciate the skill and comic arch- 
ness with which he has heightened the display 
of rustic character without giving it vulgarity, 
and refined the view of peasant life by situations 
of sweetness and tenderness, without departing 
In the least degree from its simplicity. The 
Gentle Shepherd stands quite apart from the 
general pastoral poetry of modern Europe. It 
has no satyrs, nor featureless simpletons, nor 
drowsy and still landscapes of nature, but dis- 
tinct characters and amusing incidents. The 
principal shepherd never speaks out of consis- 
tency with the habits of a peasant; but he 
moves in that sphere with such a manly spirit, 
with so much cheerful sensibility to its hum- 
ble joys, with maxims of life so rational and in- 
dependent, and with an ascendency over his 
fellow-swains so well maintained by his force of 
character, that if we could suppose the pacific 
scenes of the drama to be suddenly changed into 
situations of trouble and danger, we should, in 
exact consistency with our former idea of him, 
expect him to beconae the leader of the peasants, 
and the Tell of his native hamlet. Nor is the 
character of his mistrees less beautifully coD' 

Jonion and Drammoiid 

of Hawthornden. Here also he commenced a 
circulating library, being the first which wm 
established in Scotland. In 1728, he iMued a 
second volume of poems, which was equally 
successful with the first, and his fame extend- 
ing to the sister kingdoms, the whole of his poe- 
tical works were republished by the London 
booksellers in 1731, and by the Dublin booksel- 
lers in 1733. Pope was an admirer of " The 
Gentle Shepherd," and Gay, when in Scotland, 
was a frequent lounger in Ramsay's shop.* By 
many of the Scottish nobility he was also patro- 
nized, and his intercourse with the distinguished 
men of the day was extensive. In 1730, he pub- 
lished a collection of thirty fables, after which he 
seems to have discontinued his literary efforts. 
In 1736, he built at his own expense in Garrub- 
ber's Close the first theatre erected in Scotland. 
The act for licensing the stage, however, was 
passed during the ensuing year, and the magis- 
trates of Edinburgh ordered him to shut up the 
house. By this speculation he lost a large sum 
of money. About 1745/ he retired from busi- 
ness, and spent the last twelve years of his hfe 
in a house of whimsical construction, which he 
built on the north side of the castle-hill of 

ceived. She is represented like himself, as ele- 
vated, by a fortunate discovery, from obscure to 
opulent life, yet as equally capable of being the 
ornament of either. A Richardson, or a D'Arb- 
lay, had they continued her history, might have 
heightened the portrait, but they could not have 
altered the outline. Like the poetry of Tasso 
and Ariosto, that of the Gentle Shepherd is en- 
graven on the memory of its native country. Its 
verses have passed into proverbs; and it con- 
tinues to be the delight and solace of the pea- 
santry whom it describes." 

*^ A number of the songs in Gay's celebrated 
" Beggar's Opera" are to Scotch tunes. Gay wa« 
patronized by the Duke and Duchess of Queene- 
berry, by whose invitation he came to ticotland, 
i and resided with them for some time both iu 
^.Edinburgh and at Drumlanrig. 


Edinburgh, and which U (tiU dtttiiigniabed bjm " 

the name of Kan»«a) -garden. H« died on th* | 
7th of January, 1758, and was lnt«fml la the 
Gray-firiars church-yard. In a marooir appmul- 
ed to a collection uf hia poema pabltehad a» 
Glasgow in 1797, we find it atated ti 
died a bankrupt, and that his dsMs 
wards paid by bis son, Allan 
brated portrait painter. This in 
contrsdicU the usual riewgiren of hia suoean in 
life, for he is often brought forward as an in- 
stance of one of the few poets upon whom For- i 
tune (with the unhappy exception of the Oar- 
rubber s Close playhouse) uniformly smiled, and 
whose prudence and self-control aecured a mo- 
derate independence. Are we to undsrstand, 
then, that even Ramsay did not eacape tha flUa 
which is too readily said to belong to tha poetle 
geniua ? 

In the Preface to the Tea-Table XiaoeUany» 
Ramaay says, that a number of the aooga an 
partly written by the Kditor, and partly " dona 
by tome ingenioui young gentleman, who ware SO 
well pleased with his undertaking that thajr 
generously lent him their asaiatanoe." Of thasa 
"young Kentleroen" we can only apeeUyfoor, 
namely, Robert Crawfurd,— William Hamilton 
of Gilbertfield,— William Hamilton of Baogonr, 
— and Darid Mallet. In the preaent collection | 
no lesa than ten of CRAwrcan'a songs will be 
found, and at page 449 is given, in the not* to 
" Tweedside," all the information that coald be 
gathered concerning this beautifVil song-writer, 
who waa unfortunately drowned in returning 
firom France to his native country in 1732. 

William Hamilton or OiLaaaTriicLO, an 
estate in the vicinity of Glasgow, 3 miles to the 
south-east, waa a contributor to Watson's col- 
lection of Scots Poems (1706-1710,) and was 
therefore Ramsay's senior in tha poetk field. 
Ramaay, Indeed, in one of hia epistles, owns 
that Hamilton's verses first roused his ambition 
to be a poek 

s I bcsood nnl to otb vHW» 

And «o«M |ov *< Afdttt WMmT* NkMMv 
Whan boaala HMk taa •«* and tawb 

WkUk BaiarilMt aMrd.** 
Hamilton wna • lk«le«uit la tha Miy, h a Mlw | 
a eoanmtsalon la Losd Hyndtad^ i«staMnt.| 
Ha a|>penis to has* hasn a fajr, h a a Ja iw i M 
low, of fltrnak and Jovial wmmmn, and a 
aal&voorita. Tha sent " WDlla «M a waali 
was," (Pi«* SO.) >• aappoaad bjr Mr D. Lalng 
be a pradaetton of hk i by othan, ha b fsa 
rally n n dwa to o d to ba only tha Ml^aal of t 
piMa. Wa oaa •earetl/conodvaar Mmbil 
both haro and aathor, saalag tha laadatoif m 
la whkh ** Wanton WiUjr ia lyohM «L 
** Ha waa a man withont a «laf , 
His haart was frank wlthont a lav,** 

andoUMraaaomlama, wonM eoma battor fr« 
anolhar hand than " Waaton WtnjrV •« 

Thoat Iqr Hamilton, «• think, anrpaai Mmm 

Innataral aan and tmmtft haMSM^Ind 

tobathaMharafthlaalyla of tfWa* nfti 

whiefahaabaMiaaBMMhtodaleid tabral 

eaadlnff BooCtMi poata, and by nana m«v 

than Bams. Taka a Tsraa or tw« af BamlM 

flfat Eplstla to Bamaay as a apsclwan »— ' 

" O fkm'd and aalabratad Allaa i 

Renownad BanMajr, caalj aaBan, 

Tbarst newtbar Bli^ndmnn nor 



* Tha titk ofona of Bamillonli ooa 
to Watson's eoUactlon. 

t In ooa of Hallo's latteta^qnotad 
wc find him called Cmftmim HamUtoa, ae 



Wha bourds wi' thee had need be wary, flection, Hamilton is represented to haTc po«< 

And lear wi' skill thy thrust to parry. 
When thou consults thy dictionary 

Of ancient words. 
Which come from thy poetic quarry. 

As sharp as swords. 

" Now tho' I should baith reel and rottle. 

And be as light as Aristotle, 

At Edinburgh we sail ha'e a bottle 

Of reaming claret. 
Gin that my half-pay siller shottle 

Can safely spare it. 

•• At crambo then we'll rack our brain. 
Drown ilk dull care and aching pain, 
Whilk aften does our spirits drain 

Of true content ; 
Wow, wow! but we's be wonder fain^ 

When thus acquaint." 

During the latter years of his life, Hamilton re- 
aided at Letterick in the county of Lanark, 
where he died in 1751, at a very advanced age. 
He was author of the metrical "Life of Sir 
Williani Wallace" (from Blind Harry), which 
enjoys an extensive popularity among the pea- 
santry of Scotland, and to which we have 
already adverted in a previous page. 

W1I4LIAM Hamilton of Bangoob was a poet 
of a very different cast from Hamilton of Gil- 
bertfield, being distinguished by the delicacy of 
his sentiments and the refinement of his taste. 
He was born, of an ancient family in Ayr- 
shire, in 1704, and received a classical edu- 
cation. He early discovered a genius for 
poetry, and wrote a number of pieces which 
were circulated among his personal friends. A 
collection of these was first published at Glas- 
gow in 1748, without his knowledge or consent, 
he being at that time abroad. A more com- 
plete collection was published from his own 
MSS. at Edinburgh in 1760, several years after 
his death. la a memoir appended to this col- 

sessed the social virtues in an eminent degree, 
and to have been " in the proper sense of the 
word, a fine gentleman." In politics, he woji a 
keen Jacobite, and on the breaking out of the 
rebellion in 1745, he joined the standard of 
Prince Charles, and celebrated its first triumph 
in an Ode on the battle of Gladsmuir. After 
the disastrous affair of CuUoden, he, like hia 
prince, suffered many hardships as a fugitive in 
the Highlands before he finally escaped to 
France. He eventually, however, made his 
peace with the government, and came home to 
his paternal estate, but ill health obliged him to 
return to the Continent, where he continued 
till his death, which took place at Lyons, in 
March, 1754. His body was brought to Scotland, 
and interred in the Abbey-church of Holyrood- 
house. Four of Hamilton of Bangour's contri- 
butions to the Tea-Table Miscellany are given in 
this work, the most noted of which is hia 
" Braes of Yarrow," beginning, 

" Busk ye, busk ye, my bonnie, bonnie bride," 

a piece written professedly " in imitation of the 
ancient ballad," but which bears little similitude 
to that class of compositions. It« many beau- 
ties are marred, we conceive, by the perpetual 
" iteration" of the words, to which even a 
long familiarity will scarcely reconcile the ear. 
Ex. gr. 
" Lang maun she weep, lang tnaun the, maun 

she weep, 
Lang maun she weep with dule and sorrow, 

&c., &c. 

David (originally Malloch) waa aa- 
thor of the opening verses of the ' ' Birks of In- 
vermay," (seep. 47.) and also of the well-known 
ballad " William and Margaret," (given in The 
Book of Scottish Ballads, p. 78). He belonged 
originally to Perthshire, and waa resident ia 
Edinburgh when the Tea-Table MiaoeUanj waa 



goios on. While itndriog at the Univniity^cd, witk m 

thmn, he obtained a tatonhip in Um Aunfly of 

the Dnke of Montroee, throogli whoa* 

be owed much of his afler-eoeoaM in Vtk» la 

London t>e mingled with the moet d 

literati of the day, and pobUahed a varlMj «f 

pieces, but his cbaraetar mt a owa cf pvoMlj 

st^ms to have been de*etlf«, and bli mum la 

the literary hUtory of tha ttofli li by ao 

a creditable one. He died la 17M. la MM of 

his early letters to a flrlead, iPt tod 

spealung of Hamilton of OUbertflaM i 

•ay. " I saw Gaptain UamQloa ■OOM tta* aflo 

in Edinburgli. Ha has nada 

of Wallace/ and at tiia 

eharaeter with paopla af «M 

to hava treatad bk baro aa 

Edward of old. Tia tha AMa of WsHbw to ba 

alwajrs mardaved. Mr 

no higher than hambla aoa n a l a* aft piaaaait ba 

has published several ooUaetloaa of 

songs, and considerably obUgad tba foaag ana* 

tores of both sexes. Bis mtmllmi^ 

wrote iy aarions kmmdt. Hhase are 

•ateriataMcate la lonm.** la 

we find an Spiatla " to Mr 2>BVkl Malloeb, oa 

his departure thwn Seotlaad,** whieh shows 

that an intimacy exiatad b at wa aa tha post aad 


Mallet eojagrwl tba firlandditp of bia dlatta- 
guislMd oouatryman, Jamss Thomsoit, antbor 
of " The Seasons," [bom 1700 ; died 1748.J two 
of whoee songs will be fouud in the 
lection. The " Masque of Alfred," in whidt the 
patriotic ode of " Rule Britannia" first appear- 
ed, was a Joint production of both, but Thomson 
was author of the ode. It may here be remark* 

• SonneU used to be a term i^>plicd in Soot- 
land to tongt. Burns represents Tam o'Shan- 

" Whyles crooning o'er an auld Scou a 

that tha twa flMMpapakr patriotla flMnla tba 

lagiiib laagaaii aia tba fsiiaiilluaa ariaao- 


ilBpla ttrngb^ «f SeottWi aaaga 

Baaav Oaasr. a maaleiaa by yiofcirtaii la tba 
aarljr part «f ttia laak aaaiaiy . aad. If aa ariMaba 

aatiaattoa, eoatpoaad both tba 

wotda. Qaiay waa aalbor aad 

Sally la oar Alley," aad other, 

Ba died by ble own 

band la 1741 ' Xdmoad Kaaa, tba gnat tntge- 

Oaf«y» waa d m iaJid ftaai btaa. Tba i 
ilBffatar polat la tba blatoty af tba Vatlaaai 
▲Dthem !•» that It waa arlftoally a Ham Jaaa* 
Mte eftMloa, and writtsa, aboetly bate* tba la* 
aarreetkm of 17M, to wilauais tba Fislsadai. 
Tha woida wart, of ooant, au aww^ t dUkNat 
tram what they aow ara. 

aaaai cOwt la tba Loadaa 
theatres. Bver daaa It baa baaa tba latablbbsd 
Boyal Anthem. Maay yaan lalar, Haary 
CaNyli SOB aadeatrmnad to aalabttib bia •rtbara 
eUhn to tha aathofablp» with tba vtav of ob- 
taining a peoaloa. bat bal^ eblitid to aappma 
thehctof ttaorlfflaalJaMbltiflalabaiaetor, ba 


■rtty waa 

• of aD tha aqatovy that 


leading source of amusement. At Corri's cele- 
brated concert rooms in Edinburgh, Scottisli 
melodies were greatly in demand, and the name 
of Ferdinand© Tenducci, a celebrated Italian 
singer, who established himself in the capital 
about the middle of the century, is yet remem- 
bered for the truth and exquisite pathos with 
which he sung some of our best lyrics. About 
this period, it was the ambition of many mov- 
ing in good society to write verses to Scottish 
tunes, and ladies, as well as gentlemen, ventur- 
ed their part. In particular, we may mention 
Mrs Cockbukn and Miss Jank P^lliot, the 
authoresses of the two sets of " The Flowers of 
the Forest," given at p. 368. It is not very well 
ascertained which of the sets of the song was 
first written, but the following biographic notices 
of the two ladies, which we find in Mr David 
Laing's Appendix to Johnson's Museum, will 
doubtless interest the reader, especially as they 
furnish glimpses of Edinburgh society at this 
period, and of the parents of Sir Walter Scott. 

** Mrs Cockburn was a daughter of Robert 
Rutherford of Feinalee, in the county of Sel- 
kirk, and born probably about 1710 or 1712. In 
1731 she married Patrick Cockburn, youngest 
son of Adam Cockburn of Ormiston, Lord Jus- 
tice-Clerk, who died 16th of April, 1735, in the 
7yth year of his age. Patrick was admitted ad- 
vocate, 27th of January, 1728 ; but died, ' after 
a tedious illness,' at Musselburgh, 29th of April, 
1753. Her pathetic verses, * I've seen the smil- 
ing of fortune beguiling,' are printed in * The 
Lark,' p. 37, Edinburgh, 1765, with some occa- 
sional variations. She survived her husband 
for more than forty years. From family inti- 
macy, this lady was well known to Sir Walter 
Scott in his youth, and on several occasions he , 
has mentioned her in terms of great regard. 
• Even at an age,' he says, * advanced beyond | 
the usual bounds of humanity, she retained a i 
play of imagination, and an activity of intellect, | 
which must have been attractive and delightful , 

is in youth, but were almost preternatural at h«r 
I period of life. Her active benevolence, keeping 
pace with her genius, rendered her equally an 
I object of love and admiration. The Editor, 
j who knew her well, takes this opportunity of 
I doing justice to his own feelings; and they are in 
! unison with those of all who knew his regretted 
friend.' (Border Minstrelsy, vol. iii. p. 338, edit. 
1833. ) See also Lockharfs Life of Scott, vol. i. 
pp. 9, 86, 88, 97, 122; and vol. ii. p. 368. 

" Sir Walter Scott communicated at consider- 
able length to Mr Robert Chambers, when pub- 
lishing his * Scottish Songs, in 1829, his perso- 
nal recollections of Mrs Cockburn ; and these, 
as possessed of more than common interest, are 
here copied from the preface to that collection. 

" ' Mrs Catherine Cockburn, authoress of 
those verses to the tune of the Flowers of the 
Forest, which begin, 

I've seen the smiling of fortune beguiling, 

was daughter to Rutherford, Esq. of 

Fairnalee in Selkirkshire. A turret in the old 
house of Fairnalee is still shown as the place 
where the poem was written. The occasion was 
a calamitous period in Selkirkshire, or Ettnck 
Forest, when no fewer than seven lairds or pro- 
prietors, men of ancient family and inheritance, 
having been engaged in some imprudent tpccu* 
lations, became insolvent in one year. 

" ' M iss C. Rutherford was married to 

Cockburn, son of Cockburn of Ormiston, Lord 
Justice-Clerk of Scotland. Mr Cockburn act«d as 
Commissioner for the Duke of Hamilton of that 
day ; and being, as might be expected ttom his 
family, a sincere friend to the Revolution and 
Protestant succession, he used his interest with 
his principal to prevent him from joining in the 
intrigues which preceded the insurrection of 
1745, to which his Grace is supposed to haw 
had a strong inclination. 

" • Mrs Cockburn was herself a keen Whig. 1 
remember having heard repeated a parody oo 



Tene, to tbe toat of " Cbml Um Ckldnm." In 
the midat of the tieto or btoeluul* of tfto CMtto 
or Kdiaboish, tbe curttaf* in vl>ict» Mn Cede 
buTB WM retoming from a rWt to Bawietoae, 
WM etoppod by tfao Hifhfawd gvMd at the 
W Mt Port { and, ae she had a aenr of the parody 
at tbe 

talkad of MarohlDg tbe earriac* tbr letton aad 
c o crMpoade n ee with tbe Whlfs la tha elty. 

eocniMd asbetefinf to a ftBtknuutAkfaaiabl* 
to tho oaoM «r th* AdvMtatar, to ttet Mn 
Oockbani eeeaped, with tha OMrtioa ao4 to 
carry politiaal eqaibe about htr pwoa la tt- 

" * Apparently, ebe was fond of parody ; ae I 
haT* beard a very clever one of her writlag, 
npon the old eoog, " Kaney't to the greonwood 
gaoe.** The ocoMton of her writing it, waa tbe 
r^eoCloa of her brother's band by a fhot«tte 
young hwly cf fttebion. Tbe lint Tetae imn 

Nancys to the A ew m bly gaoe. 

To bear the fbpe a' ehatterlng , 
And WUUe he baa followed her, 
Tu win her love by flattering. 
" ' I fkrtber reineniber only tbe laat rerae, 
which deacribes tbe aort of exquiaite then ia 

Wad ye ba'e bonnie Nancy ? 
Ka, I'll ba'e ane baa learned to <bnoe« 

And that can pleaae ny fluiey; 
Ane that can flatter, bow, and dance. 

And make Iotc to tbe ladiea. 
That kena bow folk behaTe in France, 

And 'a bauld amang tbe cadiea. * 

* " An old-fiuhloned tpedea ofaerTlceable at- 
tendanta, between the atreet-porter and tbe vaiet- 
de-place, peculiar to Edinburgh. A great num- 

Ml* Oe^boffa waa aaltiilM wt BHay 

othOT little pi partiealarty a aM af toaMa 

daaeriptiv* of •!»• of her frieoda, aad Mi» to a 
aaaaKMof then w«ta aMaihM. 


r vrfhmA to tha i 


Tkia waa written for n^ lUlMr, thta a yoa^ 
aad w tn a rfc a b ly bandaoma aiaa. 

" ' Tbe intitnaqr waa gnat bataaaa mtf «•• 
thar and Mra Ooekban. 8ha natdad la Oktah* 
toa Strwt, and, ny lktlMr*a howt bal^ la 
0«icfl«'a Square, tha interaoana of that di^* 
whi^ was of a vary eioaa aad ■ 

>r to ladaaa Mn Oaakbara to «Mla« 
gaiab bar la bar wflL Mn Obakbara ImA ika 
nlaiivtiuia to leaa aa oaly aaa, Patriak Oaak 
bam, who bad tbe imak of Oaptaia la tha 
I>ragoooa, aevcfal yaan belfata harewadMtiit 

*' *Mn Oookbara was oaa af thai 
wboaa takata for aeannatloa bm«» 

writiags eaa ba aspaetad to pf«di 

XUaabeth; bat the nan waarathar 
She waa proad af bar aabara k 
fegr tfaaa^ •< 

bar ware always haagfav aboat tha 4 
Ana ml ily B nn iiM, O lawJa n . 



WHS upwards of eighty years old. She maintain-^ 
ed the rank iu the bociety of Edinburgh, which 
French women of talents usually do in that of 
Paris; and her little parlour used to assemble a 
very distinguished and accomplished circle, 
among whom David Hume, John Home, Lord 
Monboddo, and many other men of name, were 
frequently to be found. Her evening parties 
were very frequent, and included society distin- 
guished both for condition and talents. The 
petit touper which always concluded the even- 
ing, was like that of Stella, which she used to 
quote on the occasion : — 

A supper like her mighty self. 
Four notliings on four plates of delf. 

But they passed off more gaily than many cost- 
lier entertainments. 

" ' She spoke both wittily and well, and 
maintained an extensive correspondence, which, 
if it continues to exist, must contain many 
things highly curious and interesting. My re* 
collection is, that her conversation brought her 
much nearer to a Frenchwoman than to a na- 
tive of England ; and, as I have the same im- 
pression with respect to ladies of the same 
period and the same rank in society, I am apt 
to think that the vidlle cour of Edinburgh 
rather resembled that of Paris than that of 
St James's ; and particularly, that the Scotch 
imitated the Parisians in laying aside much of 
the expense and form of those little parties in 
which wit and goud-humour were allowed to 
supersede all occasion of display. The lodging 
where Mrs Cockburn received the best society of 
her time, would not now offer accommodation 
to a very inferior person.' 

" It will be remarked that Sir Walter Scott 
has styled Mrs Cockburn, Miss Catherine Ruther- 
ford and Mrs Catherine Cockburn. From the ] 
following entry of her marriage in the Parish 
Register of Ormiston, it is certain that Sirj 
Walter was mistaken : — 

*12th March, 1731, Mr Patrick Cockburn, 
Advocate, in this parish, and MIm AUton Ru- 
therford, in the Parish of Galashiels, were cou- 
tracted in order to marriage, and after due pro> 
clamation were married.' 

" Mrs Alison Cockburn died at Edinburgh on 
the 24th of November, 1794. 

" Miss Jakb Elliot was the second daughter 
of Sir Gilbert Elliot of Minto, Bart., one of the 
Lords of Session, anl Lord Justice-Clerk (who 
died 16th of AprU, 176U, aged 73), and Helen 
Stuart, daughter of Sir Robert Stuart of Allan- 
bank. She was born in the year 1727. Uer 
song, ' The Flowers of the Forest,' is said to 
have been written about the year 1755; and 
when first published it passed as an old ballad. 
In Herd's Collection of Scottish Songs and Bal- 
lads, 1776, and in other copies, both Misa 
Elliot's and Mrs Cockburn's stanzas are incor- 
porated as partof a long narrative ballad, which 
From Spey to the Border was peace and good 

The sway of our monarch was mild as the May; 
Peace he adured, which Southrons abhorred. 
Our marches they plunder, our wardens they 

" These stanzas are altogether inferior, and of 
a modern cast; and it may safely be alleged 
that neither Miss Elliot nor Mrs Cockburn had 
any concern in writing them. Miss Elliot'* 
elegy long remained anonymous. Sir Walter 
Scott, in printing it, in the Border Minstrelsy, 
1803, says, * The following well-known and 
beautiful stanzas were composed, many yean 
ago, by a lady of family in Roxburghshire. The 
manner of the ancient Minstrels is so happily 
imitated, that it required the most positive evi- 
dence to convince the Editor that the song was 
of modern date.' 

" For many years, at least from 1783 to ISOi, 
Miu Elliot resided in Brown Square, Kdin- 




burgh ; bat she died at her brother. Admiral J^ O yH l , ** 
Klliotl leat, at Mount Teviot, Boxburghahin* 
on the SMh of March. 1805." 

While Scottith long was thui eoltitrated and 
patronised by the higher claeaea oi tociety in 
Edinburgh, a young BootUth poet of ondoubtad 
genius, and whoM name atanda aaoond oaljr to 
Burns, was auffered to waata hla few yaam of 
manhood aa copying clerk to a lawjar in that 
city, at a iniall weeiily pittanea, and Anally to 
perish, with all his senses about him, in tha dia- 
mal cell of an old mad-house I The (kta of 
Robert Burns has been much and Justly de- 
plored, but that of his great precursor, Boaaar 
FxaoussoM, was by many degreca mora lamaota' 
bly unhappy. He was born in Xdioburgh, of 
parents who originally came from Abardaau' 
shire, on the 17th October, 1700, and aiWr !«• 
ceivine a giod elorr.entary education, be waa, in 
his thirteenth year, entered as a bursar at tha 
university of St Andrews, with an oltlmat* 
Tiew on the part of his parenu to tha elerioal 
profession. The buruiry, or, as it is called in 
£ngland, the exhibition, (an endowment by a 
Mr Ferguson for young men of tha same name) 
lasted four years, and on iU expiration tha poai 
quitted ^t Andrews, and returned to Kdlnbargh. 
His (kther (who had held tha altantion of an ao> 
countant tu the British Llaan Company) wm 
now dead, and want of peoonlary naana pro- 
bably prevented Fergixsaon from p r oea c utiog hla 
aca<iemical career. He now obtained employ- 
ment as a copyist of legal papers, and continued 
at this drudgery during the few short yean of 
his life, relieving his mind, however, as oppor- 
tunity offered, by the oompoaition of pleoei 
of poetry, which were regularly inaerted In Bud- 
diman'a Weekly Magaxine, and attraetad i 
considerable share of attention. In that perio> 
dical first appeared his " Farmer's Ingle** (which 
gave more than the hint to Burns's Cotter's 
fkiturday Night), his '* Braid Claith." '< Cauler 

' Ctalar Watar,- 





1778. thaaanadotta 
volume, bat thi 
■hUlinf by the pabUenllon. Hiaeo«npMy,lM«- 
•Ttr, waa ma«b aoaght nflor, Ibr, Uha BavM^Mi 
eo M Taii tt on al powus an aald to hatra baM 
•van DMN cApdvallBf ibaa kl« wtftton p s^ — ■ 
tlona. Tha rsairi 

naUyterfromatroagftarteaalymnrad. Aan*> 
eidantnl lalorTiaw, also, which ha bad with tiM 
fluaooa Bihla nnaoUtor, tha B«v. John Blown of 
Uaddlntton, threw him into rslifioai Jeap w - 
dancgr, and hia d lsea ae was agfravatad hy • 1^11 
In daaoanding a atair, hy whieh hla hand waa 
aartona^ oU, and hla wind thrown Into a aiaM 
oTdaHrlttB. ▲» laat, hla itaaMi aaamad to b* 
In a fttat niaaaara daatroyod, and hla wldwwad 
Bothar, with whan ha itoMad, waa aasnpalM 
to aaritn htm to tha pobllo aagrlom, whkh Ihau 
eonsbtod of a wntehad aertea of dana aastf tha 
dty wall, not at Ibr tha eoeflnamant of wlM 
beaata, fkr leaa of human balnga labouing andar 
thadlrwtoraahualtka. Tha nalbrtaaato y«u( 
man bad oAm fcaiad that Ihta woaM ba hla 
Itba ni omsat of bla «nliBa«, m 
oTwlMnba wm broha apoa hla 
) MMNd mmjvl daspalr, whWi 
■aim of tha a^ahn aads, 
and thvUlad with pity and horror tha frIaMis 
who aeoompanled hfan. A few day* bafera hU 
dlaaolntiea, hla raaaoo appaara to hata astlnly 
Ntnmad, and hla nsothar, who bad wmlirsi a 
ramltlanoa from barddar Ma, Baaiy, tfMa at 
asa, waa prsfiaring to bav« hfan r aw i asad hoaw. 

Ha aaplMd la hla aril, aa Am 
1774, aftar aoooAnamaat of aboat 

Bla at* waa oa|y tmm^fjkmr 
Bvnm, aa la waU^UMma, ataetad a 
lak o««r hla gimva la Hw Quwa«a'» 


churchyard, and in hia works, on more than^ There are only two songs in the present ool- 

one occasion, he speaks of him with afifectionate 
enthusiasm. On a copy of Fergusson's poems 
presented to a young lady, he says, 
" Curse on ungrateful man that can be pleased. 
And yet can starve the author of his pleasure 1 
O thou, my elder brother in misfortune. 
By far my elder brother in the muses. 
With tears I pity thy unhappy fate : 
Why is the bard unfitted for the world. 
Yet has so keen a relish of its pleasures ?" 

An incident, strikingly illustrative of the un- 
happy destiny of the young poet, and at the same 
time of the honourable esteem in which he was 
held by those who best knew him, must not re- 
main untold. Shortly after his death a letter 
€ame from India directed to him, inclosing a 
draught for one hundred pounds, and inviting 
him thither, where a lucrative situation was 
promised him. The letter and draught were from 
an old and attached school-fellow, a Mr Burnet, 
whose name deserves to be for ever linked with 
Fergusson's for this act of munificent, though 
fruitless, generosity. 

No authentic portrait of Fergusson exists; but 
his personal appearance is thus described by 
those who knew him. In stature he was about 
five feet nine inches, slender and handsome. 
His countenance was rather effeminate when in 
repose, but this was not felt when he was ani- 
mated, and his large black eyes sparkled with 
intelligence. His complexion was uniformly 
pale or yellow, and betokened delicate health. 
His forehead was elevated, and he wore his own 
lair brown hair, with a long massive curl on 
each side of the head, terminating in a queue, 
dressed with a black silk ribbon. He was noted 
for the gentleness and humanity of his disposi- 
tion, and is said, in his manners, to have united 
the sprightliness and innocence of a child with 
the knowledge of a profound and judicious 
thinker. < 

lection with the name of Robert Fergusson, and 
I we doubt if one of them (" Hallow Fair," paire 
j 100,) was really written by him, for though ge- 
I nerally attributed to him, we do not find it in 
I the collected editions of his works. Fergu&son, 
indeed, did not much cultivate the lyrical inuw 
of his country, which is the more remarkable as 
he possessed an excellent voice, and sung beau- 
tifully. When labouring under insanity, we are 
told, he sometimes burst forth into one or other 
of his favourite melodies — " The Lirks of Inver- 
may" was the chief— and on those occasions, he 
is said to have executed them with a power and 
pathos, which fiir surpassed his finest exertions 
when in health, and invaiiably moved his list- 
eners to tears. ' 

About the period of which we now treat, the 
North of Scotland produced at least four song- 
writers, some of whose pieces have been emi- 
nently popular and still retain a place in the 
collections. We name them in the order of 
their seniority : — Alexander Boss, Eer. John 
Skinner, Dr Alexander Geddes, and James 

Albxandbr Russ was the son of a farmer in 
the parish of Kincardine O'Neil, Aberdeenshire, 
where he was born in April, 1699. He received 
a regular classical education at the Marischal 
college of Aberdeen, but his ambition never 
seems to have gone beyond that of a parish 
schoolmaster, for though offered a settlement in 
the church, if he would study divinity, he de- 

« It is curious to trace the revlTiflcation of 
family likeness and family talent in an after 
generation. Fergusson's eldest sister was mar- 
ried to a Mr David Inverarity, a cabinet-maker 
in Edinburgh, from whom is descended Un- 
celebrated vocalist. Miss Inverarity, late of 
Covent-Garden Theatre. This lady, who is now 
married and retired from the stage, is grand- 
niece to the poet, and is said to bear a strikioif 
resemblance to her distinguished nsUtivo. 


cimed it on Um modMt pim thftt h* did wnA Th* R«t. Jpwit tetioria, —tlwr «f * ^ J kifc 

think hiniMlf worthy of the offle* of • tiergj- 
man. Be taught In wrenU piaeM, tUl h* wa» 
finally tttttod, in th« year ITSt, a* paroehial 
wboolmaatMr of Locblcs, a wild and thinlj. 
peopled parish in the very heart at Ihe Oram« 
plana, at the head of the nlity ot the Horth 
Esk. ThU bumble bat oeeftU eitoatloa he 
held till hU death oo the SOth of Uaj, 1784, 
a period of not leta than fifty -two yean, daria^ 
which time bia emolunkenta did not i i eeed 
twenty pouode a year, cxcloiiva of the ow of a 
giebe, but on whldi he eoatrlvad to Ufa, with 
a wi* and Cunily, in oooafbtt and ladapeadooee, 
and is described by Dr BeaiUe, who knew him 
In his latter days, as " a good'hiamoored, aoelal, 
happy, old man, modest without dowaiah* 
neas, and lirely without petulanoe." Boea had 
nearly reached the patriarchal age of estrentj 
before he beeanae author. In U7B he pubiiahed 
atiibardeMi, **Tha Fortunate abephaideee, a 
paatotal tale In the Seottiah dialeet. to whleh 
ar« added a few tonga.** TIm atoiy of ** Tha 
Fortanate Bhephardeaa** la vaiy lU eone biwued 
and cstramety nnaatialhctoiy to tha laadag 
(for the>brfMa« of the Hhaphatdaaa nnnahn la 
being wedded to a wealthy wooer, not la ob- 
taining the oltfeet of bar fliU aflbettoa, with 
whom ahe had apent bar early yaara)— hal tba 
poem itaclf abounda in many daaoriptlta bean* 
tiea, and is still popular In the north of 8eo«- 
Und. Of Boss's songs, we have foirtod two of 
his bect^" The B<«k and the wee piekla Tbw,** 
and " The Bridal o't." The first ia a nnivenal 
fitvourite, and the latter deaerree to be preesrred 
were it for nothing elae than the aplrited de< 
aoription of Scotch dancing in the last verse t — 

" He dances best that dances Aut, 

And loupe at ilka reeaing o't. 
And claps bis hands fhM hough to hougb. 

And furls about the feaaings o't <" 

goewm." and otber admired ■nnp, w— a alwtj • 

potied tbaartxlf^v* yaaia. 

) mHii tea 

aoanty ine oa n a^ ba i 
UTadtoaeebloeMBit aw avAalaad hhbnp peer 
bla own d iBcem. Ba was aatbor of an leele 
etaatfaal Hlalsey of Baotland, pabUabad in 17M, 
•ad other works h> oonaeeiloa with bto pro»e 
•km; bat bis nama wUI proteb^ bt kngeal 
p issa i va d by tba soafs ba wi««e, TrtUab are ao« 
rnaay la aamber, bat aU adrntaaMo la almna 
tar. TlMlrUtlM win at aaoenmlad tba leader 
bow maob Is daa le SklBaor aaasoafwrHera— 
' O why abeald oU a«> so 
OS, O,- 
•*Tba Bwls wi* tbe arooliad bora," 
your flddlas,** and ** Ll«y Ubeny." Bklaaor 
was beta at BaUbar, la tba parlab of Btem, 
Abesdosasbim, la 17Il,aad died la 1807. Barae 

I while 1 Uvo I 
I wae la tbe aortb. I 
bad m«t tlM plsasa r s of piling a yoangar bto* 
' ' author of tbe baet 

mmla n^ drtigbti' The wor 
slightly of the craft of seog-maklat.'lf t^if 
plcaes, but, as Job aay«.— ' O, that ndao advar- 
aary bad written a book r— let tbam try. Tbeta 
is a oertaln eometblaff la tha oM fiaoiab soa^^ 
a wild bapptaeea of Iboagbt aad aspnerioa, 
whidi peeoliar^ marka tbem, aot on|y Area 
KogUeh eongs. but also ftom tba atodara eftirts 
of eong-wrlgbu, in oar nati«« maaaar aad laa> 
goaga. The only remaiae of this eaabaataaeal, 
theea ^dls of the imaginatloa, laet with yoa. 
Oar tras beotber Boss, of Locblsa, was llbswlw 



Alexander Geddes, LL.D., author of the^ the most impassioned lyrical poet which thU or 

well-known songs " Lewie Gordon" and " The 
Wee Wifikie," was another clerical character in 
the north, but he belonged to the Roman Catho- 
lic church, and ofiSciated for many years as 
priest, until he came to be suspended or deposed 
by his bishop for entertaining certain liberal no- 
tions, and particularly for occasionally attend- 
ing a Protestant house of worship. He finally 
settled in London, where he published a num- 
ber of political and polemical pamphlets, his 
great work, however, being an English transla- 
tion of the Bible, upon which he was engaged 
for a number of years. He died in 1802, His na- 
tive place was Banffshire, where he was born 
in 1737. 

Of James Tyti.eb, the author of " Loch 
Erroch side," " The Bonnie Brucket Lassie," 
&c,, some account will be found in the intro- 
ductory notices to these songs — (see p. 241 and 
370.) Other song-writer^ belonging to about 
this period may be here only referred to, as 
brief notices of them are given in the body of the 
present collection, and their importance as lyri- 
cal writers does not demand a more extended 
account.— Dr Austin, (p. 120.) Rev. Dr 
Blacklock, (p. 399.) Sir John Clerk, (p. 
378.) William Dudgeon, (p. 5.) Sir Gilbert 
Elliot, (p. 134.) Lieut.-General Sir Harry 
Erskine, (p. 426.) Hon. Andrew Erskine, (p. 
442.) Richard Hewit, (p. 175.) Lady Ann 
Lindsay, (p. 204.) Rev. John Logan, (p. 399.) 
John Lowe, (p. 151.) John Mayne, (p. 24.) W. 
J. MiCKLB, (p. 112.) Rev. Dr Jamhs Muir- 
HBAD, (p. 17.) Isabel Paoan, (p. 466.) Adam 
Bkibvino, (p. 129.) and Rev. Dr Webster, (p. 

We now reach the era of Robert Burns— the 
most voluminous, the most versatile, and, at 
tlie sjime time, the truest, the tenderest, and 

* owre cannie' — a wild warlock — but now he 
sings among the ' sous of the morning ' " 

any other country can boast. The first edition 
of Burns's poems was published in 1786, and he 
died in 1796; so that lils career of living lame 
and detraction — of human glory and abasement 
— of extravagant joy and profound misery— of 
brilliant hopes and dark despairs — was compre> 
bended within the limited cycle of ten years. 
born on the 25th of January, 1759, in a 
cottage situated about two miles to the south of 
the town of Ayr, and in the immediate vicinity 
of Alloway kirk and the Auld Brig of Doon. 
His father, William Burness, a native of Kin- 
cardineshire, was a gardener and farm overseer, 
at the time of the poet's birth, in the employ- 
ment of Mr Ferguson of Doonholm ; his mother, 
Agnes Brown, was the daughter of Gilbert 
Brown, farmer of Craigenton, in the parish of 
Kirkoswald, on the Carrick coast of Ayrshire. 
It is often said, that the child partakes more of 
the mother than the father, and certainly in 
many cases of distinguished men the mothers 
have been remarkable for superior wit or judg- 
ment, but as a general rule we believe that the 
offspring is more deeply imbued with the idio- 
syncrasy, mental and corporeal, of the Cither 
than the mother. In the lower animals this is 
prominently the case, the virtue of the stock 
being found to rest almost exclusively in the 
cliaracter of the male parent. Burns, however, 
resembled his mother more than his father in 
personal aspect, and to her he was indebted for 
his earliest knowledge of the ballads and songs 
of his country. It is gratifying to know, that 
she lived to enjoy the fruits of his Came : he» 
death did not take place till 1820, at the great 
age of eighty-eight. The childhood of Burns up 
to his seventh year was spent where he was 
born ; hut in 1766, the father took a lease of th« 
farm of Mount Oliphant in the neighbourhood, 
and here the poet lived till his eighteenth year, 
receiving snatches of education at the parish- 
school of Dalrymple, about three miles dUtant, 



•iKl alao priv»tely from U« bU»«, and Mr Mor-A whtah «M «nMt|y bfohM off aft «te h 

d'Cb, a tmdamt bf 
fHnid of tha fluiOy i bat the ftur fTMUr portioo 
of hk tliiM waa ooeapkd In Um laboois si tba 
term, wbara, long befon ha taaafcid manhood, 
ha bad to perfonn, with his fiuh« and bto- 
ther Gilbert, the work of a man. Mowik 
Oliphant, owing to tha povartgr of tha mU and 
the want of capital, proved a rnteona ■pHala* 
tlon : and in the jear 1777, William BvnMH, 
availinff himeeir of a break in the kam, ramoaad 
to Loclilea. a larter and bettor fltfm, ahoat «n 
miles >.n, in the pariah of Tarbolloa.* Ben 
llunu rein«ined--(«lth tha aa ee p tloo of a earn* 
iner tpeot at Kirfcoewabl, with the view qt 
learning mensaratlon, sarrejing, 
iiutcd Mhool thereat and eis moathe epant in 
the town of Irvine in 1781, 
unsucoeeefal endcaTour to 
fUx-dreeeer)— till the death ofhleauherla 17M, 
when be and hie brother GUbert look tha 
of Moeigiel, in the neighboarheod of MBinkHae 
Owing to late epvingt and ttoutf aatwni^ tl 
Ullage of this Aurm proved alao nntetaaal 
and Borae,— who by thk ttma had taaad 
private aooaeetioa with Jaaa Aimaw, e ^ai t a . 
lent la aaetkwd fea aa Imfalar lairtNIi, ha* 

• It baa often atnidt ■■ aa riagabr, that pea> 
pie ehoakl manlfeet eo maeh Inteeaet la vWtteg 
the cottage wbert Bum* mereljr wae bora, aad 
•t the mroe time betray a total Indlflbfaooe as 
to plaeee with which be had a moeh dea 
connection— the pUeee, namely, where the beM 
yvmn of hit iKiylMKid, yonth, aad maahood w«>a 
■pent— Mount Oilphant aad Loahleai 

f We cannot ipeek ae to tha flwt, bat wa 

think it not unlikely that thie eohool woold be 
taught by a (kmed arithmetieiaa, who flooriehed 
in Ayrshire at thie time, of the naaMoTHalbert. 
Halbert published in 1788 a treatiee en Arith« 
metlc, which was eeteemed tha beet in Ito day. 
We have eeen the b»ok, aad among the llet of 
•abecribers given at the end, we ((>un 1 the f •!• 
lowtnx name: " Bol>ert IJams qfPttnttusmt:" 

•olvad to aram tha Atlaatta. aad tiy Mi fcfftMt 
iaJaaaataa. Beftrt doing ao, ha wae advtmd hy 
hia frland aad hMdkad, Oavla Hamtttoa, Ma^ 
to pohlkh a oalleatlaai af hh paamai aM ftom 

(opaa whom tka apHaph af mu 
Jmetl Wm MUmk waa willtoaj Imaad tha Imc 
aeptaa of.a book, whkh waa <M M aia to make a 

'dam daya. B|ythal 

kted «r aoo aapka, tba poat laailaad ahaat 
itr panada, aad oal af that aam ha ted w 


hi a vernal fk<am tha Qyda to Ji 

oontente afa ktter from Dr 

bargh to Iha Bev. Or laarli 

dea, warn aammaakyad 


of hia 

paaoM pnblkhai to Iha aafHal ^ 

wMiartvaraal iiiiiafti ■!■ OalhaMlhaf 

a Ht eat on feat fbr Kdlabaffh to Iha 
ramhar, ITMLand all the wny* ha telk 


'AaloBB to by Qkaapp, 

I mat am atad wnmaa < 
9w taaM ma to haap n» toy heart, 
for the beat of my daya warn aaaatog.** 

to Utobomh, a«ya OM of hk 
" ««a aHaa Uha ■■ i«naaMa 
dha^a at Itartaaa to a tomaaaa, than Uht aa 
avaot In ordinary lifc. Hkeompaay waa every* 
wharaaooghtfbri and it waaaooataud thai 
tha admkatloa whkh hk poatry had aaeltad, 
waabatapart af what vaa doa to Iha flaMial 
emIaaBaaorhkmaalai feaakka. Hk aatami 
eteqaaaee, and hk wnrm aad aealal heart, a«> 
pandiag oadar tha toBa aa oa af pr aap sri l iy 



which, with all the pride of genius, retained a^he threw himself on the heathy seat, and gaw 

quick and versatile sympathy with every variety 
of human character — made him equally fasci- 
nating in the most refined and convivial socie- 
ties. For a while he reigned the fashion and 
idol of his native capital." 

The Edinburgh edition of Burns's poems was 
issued in April, 1787, under the patronage of 
the Caledonian Hunt — (a patronage obtained 
through the influence of the earl of Glencairn) — 
each member of which subscribed for at least 
one copy at the rate of a guinea, although the 
selling price was only six shillings, but many of 
them took a number more, and it is pleasing to 
observe that the then earl of Eglinton stands 
highest in the list of subscribers, his name being 
down for forty-two copies, thus evincing that he 
must have been a worthy progenitor of the 
present earl, whose generous and manly conduct 
as Chairman at the great Burns' Festival, held 
in the autumn of 1844, excited the admiration 
and respect of the whole country. Burns was 
now enabled to gratify a wish which he had 
long cherished of visiting the more remarkable 
places in his native country ; and in the course 
< if 1787, he made two or three tours of conside- 
rable extent, one embracing the Borders and 
south of Scotland, and others embracing the 
western and northern Highlands. In his last 
tour, he visited Blair Athol, and was entertain- 
ed at Athol House by the Duchess of Athol. 
Here he made the acquaintance of Graham of 
Fintry, who shortly afterwards obtained for 
him a situation in the excise, and proved 
throughout his firm friend. The poet spent 
two days at Athol House, and often mentioned 
them as among the happiest of his life. The 
surrounding scenery captivated him. Professor 
Walker, then a tutor in the family, describing 
an evening walk which he had with Burns, 
says, " When we reached a rustic hut on the 

himself up to a tender, abstracted, and volup- 
tuous enthusiasm of imagination. It was with 
much difficulty I prevailed on him to quit th« 
spot, and to be introduced in proper time for 
supper." The curious may be interested to 
know, that this very spot was the favourite one 
of Queen Victoria during her recent sojourn 
[1844] in Blair Athol, and that she almost 
daily made lengthened visits to it. Here, then, 
a happy fancy might indulge itself in tracing a 
sympathy of tastes between the Peasant Poet of 
Scotland and the crowned Queen of the Empire, 
and here might be proved the truth of Bhak- 
speare's ennobling axiom, — 

" One touch of Nature makes the whole 
world kin." 
In the spring of 1788, Bums obtained a final 
settlement with his publisher (the well-known 
Bailie Creech of Edinburgh), and found himself 
in possession of about five hundred pounds, 
after deducting all his previous expenditure. 
Two hundred of this he transmitted to his bro- 
ther Gilbert at Mossgiel, with whom his mother 
resided, and the remainder was devoted to the 
stocking of the farm of Ellisland, of which he 
had obtained a favourable lease from Mr Miller 
of Dalswinton, the earliest patron of steam- 
boats. Upon this farm, which is finely situated 
on the Nith, about eight miles above Dumfries, 
he entered at Whitsunday, 1788, and, as soon 
as circumstances permitted, brought home Jean 
Armour as his now legally married wife. About 
the same time, he received, at his own request, 
through the influence, as we have said, of 3Ir 
Graham of Fintry, an appointment In the 
Excise, and was nominated for the district 
where he resided. This was an unfortunate 
combination of employments — farmer and ex- 
ciseman — and did not work well. The flurin, 
abandoned chiefly to servants, was unprodue- 

river Tilt, where it is overhung by a woody itive; and after holding it for three years and a 
precipice, from which there is a noble waterfall, ii half. Burns renounced his lease of Ellitland, i»- 



tnored to tlie town of DuiDfriM, aad U i Mto dAi 
wholly Ibr npport to hit mlmrj m an catetae* 
man, oow amottnting to Jt70 a year. Htrt hia 
official datiea ooald generally ba aeoooiplklMd 
in the forenoon, and the aftemoona wm* too 
often deroted to conririal et^oymeat, to whlah 
hii fkme as a poet and a wit, not to apeak of 
toe eoeial habiU of the plaee and act, eipwtaHy 
•xpoeed him. By the eloee of 17B6» hit 
tution— worn with early toll, tamaltiM 
tiona, worldly caree, and lata 
to deeUne : in the nmnier of 1796, be tiM tha 
dbete of eea-bathlng at Brow, on tha Solwajr 
Firth, without receiving any beocflti and ia 
July he waa brought homa in a amall epclaff 
cart, with an aeee« oT ttnr, whkh twmlaatod 
his earthly existen«e on the Slet of that moath, 
before lie had oomptetcd hia thirty-eighth year. 
The life and character of Boma are Ihmillar 
to every reader in Seotland out of chfldhood, 
and need not be dwelt on ban, avHi If oar 
limits permitted. I 
have given no fewi 
sixty-six of hia tm 

partly his), and ^>panded to naay of thaw win 
be found, noticea of the di 
which they were written, 
time, &e. Bams oompoeed trm aoagi I 
life : on turning to the firet Edlnbaifh 
of his Poemi, we find only nine altagothcr, and 
thcas embrace, with tha tsoeptioa of two or 
three puerile efforts, all that ha had written 
belbre 1786. In the Deoambar of that year, ha 
got acquainted with Jamaa Johnson, then en« 
gaged in brioging out the " Scots Muaioal Ma« 
aeum," and from that period he cultivated, al> 
most too exclusively, the lyrical muse. Hia 
original contributiona to the Mueenm were not 
only numerous, but during the progreaa of the 
work, he revised and amended many old dlttiea 
that had become too coarse for modem days, 
and supplied a number of songs and melodies 
which be had saved trom oral tradition. " By 

ttab ballad, ho kM ooafcmd aa oMsaliaa of aa 
ordinary laagnllado on tL» aattvo land. It «■■ 
traly laaaatabK pvovtoM to the epoek of CMi 
rdtatnatloa, to hear Mags, atalnod wttk task 
Indecanolaa a« ' Dainty Davie,' ' Daaean Onf,' 
* Lofaa Water,' * On a Bank of Flowan,* 
' Down tko Barn Davta,* '>ke row and loot ao 

• feytkod 


a MTka of tko owoHaot lyttei tkat ovor appoarod 
In aaj kagaafo, wklak tkaHlty korartf nay 
read wtthoat laward reproaek, aad toad ty 

Barao witk a rsqasal tkatka Aoald koa aoatf«« 
bator to tko work, and Ikmlaka ■oflala aamkar 
of now aoaflitoalriwklok ko wuaM polat oat. 
Tha apMt wttk wklok BarM mot Mr TkooMoaM 
from tke prrtod of tko 

nnmbor of kb boM ooa*! 

boMdao giTlaff Tkomooa tkopilifliti 

lac from JokaooaM M aooam aay wkh 

dloi of Sootlaad" oontafai In aS akovo ooo kaa- 
drad aad twenty of Bums's aoafi, aad Ibr tkaeo 
he r^)c«tad any pecuniary roma a o ratt oa, aatU 
tke otaoo of hia caraor, whaa, aa ha oalla It kha- 
wK *<tka terroraofaiaa-taaod klm to ka* 
a romlttaaca of flvo poanda. lato tko kMary 
cf this melao^oly natter, vto oaanot k«oontar, 
bat wo may rafcr to wkat b aald oa tko askfoot 
In the Uluatratad edltloa of Barm iMod by tko 
pubUshera of this work. 
, UacToa IIachbiu. wao bora 


iid ^ usee 


anterior to Burns, jet his chief productions did i^» used, one would be led to conclude that the 

not appear till near or after the death of the 
latter. He was descended from an old Highland 
family in Argyleshire, but born at Rosebank, 
near Roslin, on the 22d October, 1746. His father 
"vvas a retired captain in the 43d regiment. At 
the age of fourteen. Hector was sent to a rela- 
tion in Bristol, who despatched him to the 
West Indies. There he spent several years, but 
on his return to Scotland, he again took to a 
wandering life — made two cruises in the grand 
fleet under Kempen felt, and afterwards went to 
India, where he remained three years, return- 
ing finally to Scotland, and settling himself in 
the neighbourhood of Stirling on a small an- 
nuity. In 1795, appeared his chief poetical work, 
" Scotland's Skaith, or the History of Will and 
Jean," which was followed next year by the se- 
quel, " The Waes o' War." These compositions 
had an Immense sale, which was extended be- 
yond perhaps what they would naturally have 
commanded, by benevolent individuals distri- 
buting copies among the peasantry as a check 
to the indulgence of intemperance. The poet's 
want of health and fortune, however, again 
drove him to the West Indies, where he met 
with a wealthy friend who settled on him an 
annuity of ^£100, which, with other bequests, 
enabled him to return to his native country, 
and the last fifteen years of his life were spent 
in a state of comparative aflfluence in Edin- 
burgh. He died on the 15th March, 1818. The 
songs of Macneill, of which nine will be found 
in the present collection, are mostly constructed 
in the form of dialogue between two parties, 
and evince skill in the management of the story. 
But in several cases a simplicity is affected 
which amounts to mere childishness, and abso- 
lutely repels for the want of common manliness 
of expression. This is especially exemplified in his 
well-known song, " My boy Tammy," (p. 474.) 
where a mother interrogates a son as to the wife 
he has brought home, and, from the language 

** boy Tammy" had not reache<i the em of 
breeches, and that his bride was yet in her 

A song-writer embued with a truer simplicity 
than Macneill, and higher sentiment, appear- 
ed in the person of Robert Tannahill, the 
son of a silk-gauze weaver in Paisley. Robert 
was born in that town on the 3d of June, 1774,* 
and after receiving the common school edu- 
cation of reading and writing, was sent to 
the loom. About this time, the weaving of 
cotton was introduced into Paisley; and the 
high wages realized by it, induced parents to 
teach their children the trade at an early age, 
so that their apprenticeships were generally 
finished by the time they reached fifteen or six- 
teen. The flow of money, which persons thus 
so young could command by the exercise of a 
flourishing handicraft, led to the early marriages 
for which Paisley has been noted ; and no town 
at the time abounded in more merrymakings, or 
presented a more gay and thriving community. 
Tannahill participated in the prosperity of the 
time and place. Dancing parties and rural ex- 
cursions were frequent among the young people 
of both sexes, and in these he often joined. 
He then formed many of those poetical attach- 
ments, which he afterwards celebrated in song. 
With the exception of two years of his youth 
spent in Bolton, England, where he was em- 
ployed on figured loom -work, Tannahill resided 
all his days in his native town. About 1803, he 
had the good fortune to become acquainted with 
the late Mr R. A. Smith, a gentleman of distin- 
guished talent as a composer, who set to music 
and arranged some of his finest songs. He aleo 

« In this slight notice of Tannahill, it may be 
as well to state, that we abridge fipom a memoir 
which we furnished to Chambers's Lives of Emi- 
nent Scotsmen, and which was cinipiled on In- 
formation received direct from the poet's reU- 



turmtd ma iattauwy wHk Mvanri otter 

■ or 

log hi* tMte (bT eompoaitSoBi 
toff hire In hh lovo of MOf. Tho flnftcdlUon 
of his *' Poema umI Songir* appaarad ia tb* ytmr 
1807, and waa fkvoarably rrcelTWl 
Bat tlie aathor ipecdily cam* to ragnt tlMt 
be had to premataraly givcB It to tba ^raM. 
Enon and balti W B«ir dMMtoi te II, wbiah 
liad bHtMv awpid Irim. and bt WtM •■!• 
diMMuljr to ooivwt and ra-writo all Ua p h —, 
with a Tlew to a toeood odltloa. Ha aaatlimad 
alK> to add to tba munbar at bto aeoga, and la 
thcae reached a high drgra* of ezoelleac*. Soma 
of them, indeed, may ba pronounead to ba tba 
rery perfection of aoog-wriUog, ao flv as thai 
9on«ists in simpla and natoral lipiiluu ot 
feelings oomnion to all. Tba iitolMlw popa< 
Uritjr which tbej attalnad hidlcalM hem «ai< 
rvraally were Mt and aadantood tha Motl- 
iDcnts which they raeordad. 

Bat Ms edebrlty aa a aong-wri«ar braagbt ita 
aBBojraaeaa, aad tba aanaltive poet fcU lato a 
eonftnaad mahuMboljr, wbleb aodsd la iMatal 
abanatloB. aad Isally aaWd*. Ob tha flTih 
May, 1810. bewaafcaaddiuaiBadhiapeelbi 
theTtcinitrofPaiakj. PnvtoM •• tbia he ted 
icstroyed idl hia MS. aooffk 

Tannahilt waaamall In atatana, and la asaa* 
nen diffident almoat to haahAiloaaa. In bla 
dispoaitiun he waa tender and bomaoe, and ««• 
tremely attached to hia botna. Mi kindred, aad 
his fHends. Hia Ufc waa rimpla and nnvatM ta 
iU details, bat eraa tba aneventlbl ebaraeter of 
his eziatenoe renders ntore atriking and more 
afbctiag its tragic cloaa. 

Of hk aongs we hare given in the prcamt ool> 
lection no fewer than thirty. Thejr are aoil- 
nently distinguished by elevation and tendaraaas 
of aantfanaatt rlehn saa of raral imagety, aad 
yafdlelfoa. Thalyrtor 


aaat riuftab. Of an— of Ma aeatoa ip of a rt » ar 
l i in a di ali' mMmman, (BiaiAma Oall, Aubl 
Wnmm, 8ai Aimm. Baswau, loaaar Aixam, 
*«.) Battoaa win bo fcaad la tha body of tha 
•otfe, ta whiah tha ladas ar Aathata win difaat 

Ihar, would ba aa lavldloaa oaa, aad waa li i« 
qatta, la too many laalaasM^ pae hap a, a *tth 
aaayorhudHnfftlMtwaaidhMMftnwIlh tha 
buH aet i af tha partba— at>. Wvmmmmmml^ 
baiv ba dsNit vpon, trtthavt thia atfaaCloSy'"* 
Ibr, ahM I «• eaa aa leagar laahaa thaai «••■( 
oar tMatl i tm » 4 >ta WAMvsSoarr.TaaMaa 
OAnraaA Jamb Boaa, aad i 

■AM. B* 


Onat VavalM hat Ml a aaw b ar af ipMlii 

lyrlaal wiMmt. alaada la Iha ta ei u a t laak af 
aaaient aad modara paata. ThsaoBgiof JaoMa 

haad, aaqr ba MM to ha • 

aaHlMl. bu«aago. aad a||la{ aad,« 

aaaaa with thoaa of BaoMiv aad BMMb «• tal 

that, thoagb a anmbar or oar ssapi oadaato 

tba adaeatad aad oraa aaUa of fha iaad, tha 






[This " jlrst of songs " (as Burns calls it), was 
written by the Rev. John Skinnbu, in the house 
of a lady named Montgomery, in the town of 
Ellon, Aberdeenshire, where he happened to be 
on a visit. The lady is said to have asked for a 
song after dinner, in order to put a stop to a 
political dispute, and at the same time to hare 
expressed surprise that the fine old strathspey, 
called The Reel of Tullochgot'um, had no appro- 
priate words to it. On this hint, Mr. Skinner 
produced the present song, and it was first printed 
in the Scots Weekly Magazine for April, 1776. 
Mr. Skinner was for many years pastor of the 
episcopal chapel at Longside, near Peterhead, 
Aberdeenshire, and died in 1807, at the advanced 
age of eighty-six.] 

Come, gi'e's a sang, Montgomery cried, 
And lay your disputes all aside. 
What signifies't for folks to chide 

For what's been done before them ? 
Let Whig and Tory all agree. 
Whig and Tory, WTiig and Tory, 
Let Whig and Tory all agree. 

To drop their Whig-mig-morum ; 
Let Whig and Tory all agree 
To spend the night in mirth and glee. 
And cheerfu' sing alang wi' mo 

The reel of Tullochgorum. 

O, Tullochgorum 's my delight. 
It gars us a' in ane unite. 
And ony sump that keeps up spite, 
In conscience I abhor him. 
Blythe and merry we's be a', 
Blythe and merry, blythe and merry, 
Blythe and merry we's be a'. 
And mak' a cheerfu' quorum. < 

^ Blythe and merry we's be a' 

As lang as we ha'e breath to draw. 
And dance till we be like to fa'. 
The reel of Tullochgorum. 

There needs na' be sae great a phraise, 
Wi' dringing dull Italian lays, 
I wadna gi'e our ain strathsjjeya 

For half a hundred score o' 'em. 
They're douff and dowie at the best, 
Douffand dowie, douflFand dowie, 
They're douff and dowie at the best, 

Wi' a' their variorum. 
They're douff and dowie at the best, 
Their allegros, and a' the rest.. 
They cauna please a Highland taste, 

Compared wi' Tullochgorum. 

Let warldly minds themselves oppress 
Wi' fears of want, and double cess. 
And sullen sots themselves distress 

Wi' keeping up decorum. 
Shall we sae sour and sulky sit. 
Sour and sulky, sour and eulkie. 
Shall we sae sour and sulky sit. 

Like auld Philosophorum ? 
Shall we sae sour and sulky sit, 
Wi' neither sense, nor mirth, nor wit. 
Nor ever rise to shake a fit 

At the reel of Tullochgorum. 

May choicest blessings still attend 
Each honest open-hearted friend, 
And calm and quiet be his end. 

And a' that's good watch o'er him. 
May peace and plenty be his lot, 
Peace and plenty, peace and plenty. 
May peace and plenty be hU lot. 

And dainties a great store o' 'em I 
May peace and plenty be bla lot^ 
Unstain'd by any vicious blot! 
And may he never want a groat 
That's fond of Tullochgorum. 





Bai fbr the dbty, teviiliic fMA, 
Wbo waati to b* opprMdon't tool, 
MajOBvy gnaw kls rotten tool, 

Aad diMODtoot doToor ktm i 
May dool And MffiDW bo Uo AuMib 
SoolMid lonow, dool aad Mffov. 
Maj dort and torrow bo hli oteMt^ 

▲adnanoaj, Wae^ mo for la ! 
Xajr dool aad •orrow bo hli ehaaeo, 
And a' the Uli that eomo firao Pranoe. 
Whae'or ho be, that wtnna daaoo 

The reel 

lEttrick ISittijS. 

[Thi* fliTonrito old MBf li of nakaowB aatl- 
qutt7 Md anthonMp. H appean la the Tea- 
iwae MleeeUaay (ITM iTStK bat belonp to aa 
earlier period thaa that. The ntrtBlc It a river 
la SolkirkAlre, bat. ftom tho aOoriOM o( the 
aoBf . tho loTor of tho nynipheoMM to ha^o fM od 
on (ho baaki or Looh ftM la Pwiferidrt J 

At gfeamia', whoa (ho ihcov dtavt haaew 
I met my iMrio, btaw aad Ught, 

My beait grew nght:- lima. Iiaa« 

My anil aboot her lUy aoek. 
And kim'd aad eiap^d her thvo ft' lai«. 

My worde ihegr vera aa BOBlo tak. 

I mid. My laerto. vm yo oaf 

To tho Richland hllle tho Bm 10 learn? 
m gle thee baith a ooor aad ovo. 

When ye oomo to the brl( o* lira : 
At Leith anld meal oomee In. noer fhah. 

And herrtnsf at tho BroomlOlaw: 
Cheer np yoor heart, my boaalo laei^ 

There'* gear to wla yo aorer eaw. 

A' day when we ha*o wi««i|ht ewooih. 
When winter firoeti aad naw bo^ 

Soon M the ran gaee weet the lodi. 
At ni^t when ye elt down to apln, 

I'll ecrew my pipee, and play a tptlng : 
And thne tho weary nl|^ will end. 

TUl tho tender kid aad lamb-ttmo bilai 

^ee HvLf £9iti€:. 

CAni tonllfhQy itaaplo mm( flnl af^oand la 
Berd^ ChBaeHea. tm. Fimm, a haatbeie player 
ta ■d te ha n h.aad aoqaalated vlih Barae. dl*. 
tlngaMhed ktmrnirbyhle maaaer of pt^jlac tho 
air. •*Whoa hoplayeltalow,''myi Baras.**ho 
makailt,lateet,thelaBfaH>afdoepalr.* Ftumt 


Saw yo Johaay oa 


Oaoe wr mo whoa I eeo MiB. fae' ehe^ 
wr BO whoa I eoe Mm. 

What wfll I do wt' Mm. 4M' he. 

What win I do wl- Mm? 
Bern ao'er a awk «pea Mi bael; 

Aad I ha'o aaao togro Mm. 
I ha'e twa awka tala my Mm. 

And ane o' them Ml d'o Mmt 
Aad tor a morfe or mair fto 

Dlnaa Maad «r Ma. «ao* dm, 



For weel do I lo'e him, quo' she, 

Weel do I lo'e him ; 
For weel do I lo'e him, quo' she, 

Weel do I lo'e him. 
O fee him, father, fee him, quo' she. 

Fee him, father, fee him ; 
He'll haud the pleugh, thrash in the bam. 

And crack wi' me at e'en, quo' she. 

And crack wi' me at e'en. 

[This humorous and once popular song appears 
in the first edition of the Orpheus Caledonius, 
along with the music, in 1725. It is, howerer, 
of much earlier date, as Ramsay, in his Miscellany, 
marks it as one, even in his day, of an unknown 
age. Gay, the poet, selected the air (which goes 
by the name of Nancy' •< to the greenwood gane), 
for one of his songs, beginning, 

"In war we've nought but death to fear."] 

Nancy's to the greenwood gane, 

To hear the gowdspink chatt'ring, 
And Willie he has foUow'd 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 auntie:-' 
With crowdy-mowdy they fed me, 

Langkale and ranty-tanty ; 
With bannocks of good barley-meal, 

Of thae there was right plenty, 
With chapped stocks fu' butter'd weel; 

And was not that right dainty? 

Although my father was nae laird, 

'Tis daffin to be vaunty,) 
He keepit aye a good kale yard, 

A ha' -house, and a pantry ; 
A guid blue-bonnet on his head. 

An o'erlay "bout his cralgie ; 
And aye until the day he died 

He rade on guid shanks-nalgie. 

Now wae and wonder on your snout. 

Wad ye hae bonnie Nancy? 
Wad ye compare yoursel' to me, 

A docken to a pansie ? 

I ha'e a wooer o' my ain. 

They ca' him souple Sandy, 
And weel I wat his bonnie mou' 

Is sweet like sugar-candy. 

Wow, Nancy, what needs a' this din ? 

Do I no ken this Sandy ? 
I'm sure the chief o' a' his kin 

Was Rab the beggar randy ; 
His minnie Meg upo' her baik 

Bare baith him and his billy : 
Will ye compare a nasty pack 

To me your winsome Willie ? 

My gutcher left a good braidsword. 

Though 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 Nancy turn'd her round about. 

And said. Did Sandy hear ye. 
Ye wadna miss to get a clout ; 

I ken he dlsna fear ye : 
Sae haud your tongue and say nae malr. 

Set somewhere else your fancy 
For as lang's Sandy's to the fore. 

Ye never shall get Nancy. 

®5e %a m%. 

[Thr first two stanzas of this song are by the ill. 
, fated Robert Fkkgusson : the others are by the 
I late Mr. Wiixiam Rkid, bookseller in Glasgow, 

who was sometimes fortunate in the additions be 

made to popular ditties. 1 

Wri.T, ye gang o'er the lee rig, 

My ain kind dearie, O ; 
And cuddle there fu' kindly, 

Wi' me, my kind dearie, Ot 
At thorny bush, or birken tree. 

Well daff and never weary, O; 
They'll scug ill een tne you and me, 
> My ain kind dearie, O. 


Nm hards wt' kent or coUj there, 

StaaU ercr eome lo few j«. O : 
Bat IftTVoeks wklMlinc In Um »lr 

8h»U woo, lllw me, th«lr dearie, O. 
Willie Uhen herd their lambeaod ew«e. 

And toll for warld'i sew, mj Jo, 
Upon the lee my pleMore crow* 

WY thee, mj kind dencte. O. 

At gloMnln', tf my iMM I bt. 

Oh, bat I'm vondrooe Mrto, O: 
And monj n heavy il^ I iK 

When abeent fine my denito, O ; 
Bat seated 'ncath the mllk-whiM ihotB, 

In oT'nlnc fiOr and dearie, O, 

Enrmptor'd, a' my caree I Mom, 

When wi' my kind dearie. O. 

Whare throofh the blrki the borale rows, 

Aftha'e I sat ta' ehe«1e, O. 
Upon the bonnle greeoswaid howcs, 

Wi' thee, my kind dearie, O. 
I're coorted till I 're heard the craw 

Of honest Chantlaleerte, O. 
Yet nerer mla^d my sleep ava. 

Whan wl' mj kind dearie, O. 

ForlhooCh the night were Be^er ne darii. 

And I were nsTer sae weaiy, O, 
rd meet thee on the lea ric 

ICyaln kind dearie, a 
WhUe In this weary warid of wae, 

TMs wUdenem see dreary. O. 
What makes meblythe, and keeys me—? 

TW thee, my kind dearie, O. 

i^iOe ge set. 

[Tkm Ilrely lltUe song tint appeared In Berd^i 
Collection, 1789. Itt author la unknown. Mr. 
Haekay, the oomedian, was UuinimeBlal tai rm^ 
dertnff It a general IhToarlte. In the edttlea e( 
Herd^ OoUecUon, 776, there to asstof Tenas te 
the same tone, written by Miss JaDet Graham, 
and entitled The W^ward Wife.] 

drs I had a wee honae, an' a oanty wee fire. 
An' a bonnie wee wlfle to praise and admire, 
wr a bonnie wee yardle adds a wee bam, 
Fareweel to the bodies that yaomer and moam. ; 

Sae Mde ye y«t» an* hMe !• yal t 
Te llMie fcca what's le bailie ye y«lt 
Some bauile wee he^ m«y ik' le aiy Isi, 
Aa' rui^ be eamy wl' thtakla' eX 

That 'U cry pa»a er dad^y la Mk 
iSae bide ya yes te. 

Aa'lf ihws ihiwM aiw hapf la be 
A diftmae atwaea ay wee wile aad me, 
IB haany fsad hamaar, aiiha' she be leased, 
rn kim her as* ehkp h« aalfl *a ba plaMad, 

90onnif et)ir](ts. 

{Toi saac Isby Auj^m Bamsat. It w 
bab^ a teveoriia af the aathoc'iw m to Is 

Ml aalaaii^ ftatti aad lavai 

OMVarai wr ttsH er OMiHr* 

Ka aalanl bsaaly waMtng : 

Haw Hfhtsame in la hear the lark. 
ABd bMs te esMSrt ehaaUnc ! 



wr seem sighs I vac tey heart. 
For fisar she leva aaether. 




Thus sang blate Edie by a burn, ^ Aft I wad chase thee o'er the lee. 1 

His Chirsty did o'er-hear him ; 

And round about the thorny tree; 

She doughtna let her loyer mourn; 

Or pu' the wild flowers a' for thee« 

But, ere he Wist, drew near him. 

My only jo and dearie, 0. 

She spak' her favour wi' a look, 

Which left nae room to doubt her: 

I ha'e a wish Joanna tine. 

He wisely this white minute took. 

'Mang a' the cares that grieve me, ; 

And Hang his arms about her. 

A wish that thou wert ever mine. 
And never mair to leave me, ; 

My Chirsty! witness, bonny stream. 

Then I would dawt thee night and day. 

Sic joys frae tears arising! 

Nae ither warldly care I'd ha'e. 

I wish this may na be a dream 

Till life's warm stream forgat to play. 

love the maist surprising ! 

My only jo and dearie, 0. 

Time was too precious now for tank, 

This point of a' his wishes 

He wad na wi' set speeches bauk. 

But wair'd it a' on kisses. 

lEp amang gon clifg xoc'k^. 

JH^ O'dg foi &nh ^e&xu, <B. 

[Thb composition of Mr. William Dudorow 
(often by mistake called Robert Dudgeon), the son 
of a fanner in East Lothian, and himself an 

[This song is the production of Richard Gali-, 

extensive farmer for many years at Preston, In 

a young man who was brought up to the business 

Berwickshire. He died in October, 1813, aged 

of a compositor in Edinburgh, but who died in 

about sixty. It will be remembered, that Bums, 

1801, in the twenty-fifth year of his age. He was 

on his Border tour in May, 1787, fell in with him 

born at Linkhouse near Dunbar. After his death. 

at Berrywell, and thus records his opinion of him ; 

a collection of his poetical pieces was published by 

"Mr. Dudgeon -a poet at times -a worthy re- 

Messrs. Oliver & Boyd, with a Memoir by the Key. 

markable character natural penetration— a great 

Alex. Stewart.] 

deal of information, some genius, and extreme 

Thy cheek is o' the rose's hue, 

My only jo and dearie, ; 

Fp amang yon cliffy rocks. 

Thy neck is o' the siller dew 

Sweetly rings the rising echo 

Upon the bank sae brierie, 0. 

To the maid that tends the goats. 

Thy teeth are o' the ivory ; 

Lilting o'er her native notes. 

sweet's the twinkle o' thine ee: 

Hark, she sings, « Young Sandy's kind. 

Nae joy, nae pleasure, blinks on me. 

An' he's promis'd aye to lo'e me ; 

My only jo and dearie, 0. 

Here's a broach I ne'er shall tine, 
Till he's fairly married to me; 

The birdie sings upon the thorn 

Drive away, ye drone. Time, 

Its sang o' joy, fu' cheerie, 0, 

An' bring about our bridal day. 

Rejoicing in the simmer morn, 

Nae care to mak' it eerie, ; 

" Sandy herds a flock o' sheep. 

Ah ! little kens the sangster sweet 

Aften does he blaw the whistle. 

Aught 0' the care I ha'e to meet, 

In a strain sae saftly sweet. 

That gars my restless bosom beat, 

Lammies list'ning daurna bleat. 

My only jo and dearie, 0. 

He's as fleet's the mountain roe. 
Hardy as the highland heather. 

When we were bairnies on yon brae. 

Wading through the winter snow. 

And youth was blinkin' bonnie, 0, 

Keeping aye his flock together: 

Aft we wad daff the lee-lang day. 

■nut a plaid, wi' bare houghs. 

Our joys f u' sweet and monie, 0. 

n He braves the bleakest norlan blast. 

•* Bnwl7 oaa h* daaee Mid rtBC* 
Vukty ttoe or Mcblaiwl eraaack: 
If an* OM erflrouudi hH ttac 
▲t areel or round a ita(: 

In » taftwl Wt ay* tte taapMrt 
▲' kk pniM oMi nir«r bo auc 

By »• I t im* wtndod ■ n p t i r . 
8uifi Itet ring o' 8u»d7 
SMOiihCKt, tko' tk^ v«« <r«r no lane.* 

®^i Adrift l^ttsi). 

[ Wa (Eire here two rcntons of thli popolar MOf 
-Um tint, that which aypoan in Jokami'a 
Moaram^and whleh waa alMPad hj Bvnaa tnm 
•ome old strain -ikaaaosBd, Itaftwklali to fM*- 
raUr aung in oar ikMtna.] 

Taaas frowa a bonnto Mar taA in ow kall-TMd, 
Thero grows a bonnia briar boA in oar kall-jard .- 
And below the bonnla brier boA thanTa a laala 

and a lad. 
And the/ra boij, bnqr oooittng in oar kaO*jaid. 

WiTU eoort naa matr below tba ba« in oar kail> 

We'Q eoort naa aatr bdow Ike boa la ear knU- 

Well aws' to Atkole'i green, and Ikere ««ni M 

Whare the treee and the braaekei will be ear nAi 


Will je go to the dandn' in QutyleTt ha'. 
Will jt go to the dandn' In Oarljle^ ha'; 
There Sand/ and Nanej I'm tare will ding then a'? 
I wlnna gang to the dandn* in Cteljle'a ha'. 

What wUl I do for a lad, when Sandy ganp awa'? 
What will I do for a lad, when Sandj gangeawa'? 
I will awa' to Edinbaigh and win a pennie fee. 
And eee an onle bonnie lad will fkn«y ma. 

BeTaeomin' frae the North thafe to tutor bm, 
Bife oomin' fne the North that'i to tha^ me ; 
A feather in hia bonnet and a ribbon at hit knee. 
He's a bonuie, bonaie laddie an jon be ho. 


Okl wore ikear a' ttoa Ikai mm* Ut awa'y 
Tk^ydiwvap wttkglilkallafllakenaftCartkle ka*. 
Aad tafol aald frIeaM wkea fkr awa'.' 

* Tan eoMeaaa male. 

Jamie, wkwe all yaafa 

jMde, to Atkele^ gNCtti 
killa tkal were tut awa'.* 


laAdle, aad jea ba aa ko.' 

Grfe» ^uixnin, Gut. 

hgorlia 1 

Oar rooiln' Ore will tkmr 
Ike amoler^ taee,- and keep fb' eotk 

My loarie Mpe^^ow. 
Ok wka wad cole yoar kail, av kalrna. 

Or kaka Toar teead tike me ? 
YiTd gel Ike bit frae oat my moatk, 

8ae gree, balmlee, groe. 

. 1 


0, never fling tbe warmsome boon i 
O' bairnhoods lore awa'; 

^ H^onnie J^arg ?^ag. 

Mind how ye sleepit cheek to cheek, 

LThb author of this song is Abchibau) Oiuw^ 

Atween me and the wa', 

How ae kind arm was owre ye baith - 

the Ayr and Wigtonshire Courier, and was after- 

But, if ye disagree. 

wards introduced into one of a series of stories by 

Think on the kindly sowth'rin' soun', 

Mr. Crawford, published at Edinburgh, In 1^25, 

O, gree, bairnies, gree. 

under the title of " Tales of my Grandmother." 

The composer was R. A. Smith.j 

^|iet^ \i%H a igwtts \H$it, 

I BoNNiB Mary Hay, I will lo'e thee yet; 

[This song, so favourably known to the public, 

j For thy eye is the slae, and thy hair is the jet. 

through the singing of Mr. Templeton and other 

The snaw is thy skin and the rose is thy cheek; 

eminent vocalists, is the production of John Imlah. 

Oh! bonnie Mary Hay, I will lo'e thee yeu 

It first appeared, about fifteen years ago, in a col- 

lection of pieces by him, entitled, " May Flowers. 

Bonnie Mary Hay, will you gang wi' me, 

Poems and Songs, some in the Scottish Dialect." 

When the sun's in the west, to the hawthorn tree? 

The music is by Joseph de Pinna.] 

To the hawthorn tree in the bonnie berry deu ? 
And I'll tell you, Mary, how I lo'e you then. 

Therb lives a young lassie 

Far down yon lang glen; 

Bonnie Mary Hay, it's haliday to me. 

How I lo'e that lassie 

When thou art coothie, kind, and free; 

There's nae ane can ken! 

There's nae clouds in the lift, nor storms in the sky. 

! a saint's faith may vary. 

My bonnie Mary Hay, when thou art nigh. 

But faithful I'll be; 

For weel I lo'e Mary, 

Bonnie Mary Hay, thou maunna say me nae; 

An' Mary lo'es me. 

But come to the bow'r by the hawthorn brae. 
But come to the bow'r, an' I'll teU ye a' what's true. 

Red, red as the rowan 

How, Mary! I can ne'er lo'e ane but you. 

Her smiling wee mou'; 

An' white as the gowan 

Her breast and her brow! 
Wi' a foot o' a fairy 

j^g toif£ j&ajj ta*ctt X^z gre. 

She links o'er the lea; 
0! weel I lo'e Mary, 
And Mary lo'es me. 

[FiBST printed in Herd's Collection, 1769. The 

words have been set to dlflferent airs, but the origi- 

nal is to be found in Gow's fifth collection of Reela. j 

She sings sweet as onie 

A FBiExn of mine came here yestreen. 

Wee bird of the air. 

And he would ha e nie down 

And she's blithe as she's bonnie, 

To drink a bottle of ale wi' him 

She's guid as she's fair: 

In the neist burrows town. 

Like a lammie sae airy 

But, ! indeed it was. Sir, 

And artless is she. 

Sae far the waur for me ; 

0! weel I lo'e Mary, 

For lang or e'er that I came hame 

And Mary lo'es me! 

My wUe had U'en the gee. 

Where yon tall forest timmer. 

We sat sae late, and drank sae stout, 

An' lowly broom bower. 

The truth I'll tell to you. 

To the sunshine o' simmer 

That ere the middle o' the night, 

Spread verdure an' flower; 

We were a' roaiin' fou. 

There, when night clouds the cary. 

My wife sits at the ftre-side, ^ 
And the tear blinds aye her e'e, ^ 

Beside her I'll be: 

For weel I lo'e Mary, 

The ne'er a bed will she gae to. 

And Mary lo'es me. 

But sit and tak' the gee. 

— — — « — 

soomsa soHoai 

In the momtnc w»oii, wlMB I euM < 

TlM ne'er a word abe •pake. 
Bat moale » «d and tour look. 

And aje k«r kMd ahord •hek*. 
Vj Amr, qaodi I, whM ttMk Itec. 

To look MM war on ma r 
I'll nerer do (be Uke •cnln. 

If je'U ne'er Uk* Um fee. 

Wben thnl the heerd, tbe nui. she 11 

Her Arms »boal mj neck ; 
And twentj kieMa In » crack. 

And, poor wee thine, cbe Kret. 
If yell ne'er do the like aai", 

But bide at hame wi' me, 
ni taj my life I'm be (be wtte 

Thai'a nerer lak' (be gM. 

3&cs*j( Znife. 

«. A 

'SommMni emmeondy 
Mrs. Grant of ' 
OaAMT or CAaaowi 
Spej, afienrardt mantod le Dr. M amj of I 
BbewaeboniiMur Ab«riMnraboatl74i»Mid dM 
»boat UI4.J 

Rot'* wife of AMtfbllMh, 
Roji wife or AldtvallMfc, 
Wat je bow riM ebwied m«^ 
Aj I cam' o'erlbe bn« or ayiofli? 

Bhe Tow'd.ahe awore abe wad be mtne} 
She aald abe lo'ed me bei4 of onto s 

Alt ah! (be flekle, fUtbleea Quean, 
Sbe'a U'en tiie oarle, and Icfl ber Jobnnto. 

O, Ptae waa a oantie qaean, 

Weel could she danoe the Rlfhland waUodi: 
How happ7 I, had she been mine. 

Or I been R07 of Aldiralloch. 
Eoy'a wife, Stc 

Her hair aae fair, her een aae clear. 
Her wee bit moo' aM aweet and bonniei 

To me ahe erer will be dear, 
Tboagh ahe's for erer left ber Johnnie. 
Koj'e wife. Bee. 

KigjblittH ^iftKtcfl Vofi. 

I byJelui 

I aa'a w M i< w *a mtmj a algfct bi Jbdo^ 
AJo^ itebMki or Clfda. 

A eamBMr WM aho 10 mlM •'ek 

Aadtony boartajey, 
▲ad wMl dM loe'd m tmm wl'aa^ 

How brfDlMiv eeaCar, 
Ab4 I tto^M Uw town w«« ewoMT te. 

^S Wttls*^ Vonif. 


ABd oeld 11(7 wteiiy looki^ 
~ akilMawvard '' 


To wbom ihOM wfff«a M j«T 
Mj MttToBltkUadhMMb 



Then gang wV me to Scotland dear; 

"We ne'er again will roam. 
And with thy smiles so bonny, cheer 

My native Highland home ! 

When summer comes, the heather bell 

Shall tempt thy feet to rove. 
The cushet dove within the dell 

Invite to peace and love ! 
For blythsome is the breath of May, 

And sweet the bonny broom. 
And blythe the dimpling rills that play 

Around my Highland home! 
Then gang wi' me, &c. 

l^ KfiiEni^, #. 

[This is one of Burns's early songs -and one of 
his best. The heroine was a servant-girl at Cal- 
cothill, near Lochlea, by name Agnes Fleming. 
The air is very old.] 

Behind yon hills, where Lugar flows, 

'Mang moors and mosses many, O, 
The wintry sun the day has cloa'd. 

And I'll awa' to Nannie, O. 
The westlin wind blaws loud and shrill 

The night's baith mirk and rainy, O ; 
But I'll get my plaid, and out I'll steal. 

And o'er the hill to Nannie, O. 

My Nannie's charming, sweet, and young; 

Nae artf u' wiles to win ye, O ; 
May ill befa' the flattering tongue 

That wad beguile my Nannie, O. 
Her face is fair, her heart is true. 

As spotless as she's bonnie, O; 
The opening gowan wat wi' dew, 

Nae purer is than Nannie, 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 aye to Nannie, O. 
My riches a's my penny fee. 

And I maun guide it cannie,0; 
But warl's gear ne'er troubles me. 

My thoughts are a' my Nannie, O. 

Our auld gudeman delights to view 

His sheep and kye thrive bonnie, O; 
But I'm as blythe that hands his pleugh. 

And has nae care but Nannie, O. 
Come weel, come wae, I carena by, 

I'll tak' what heaven will send me, O; 
Nae ither care in life ha'e I, 

But live and love my Nannie, O. 

Im^ of ^aMiie»€^arg. 

[First published at Edinburgh, In May 1791, 
in a periodical work, conducted by Dr. Anderson, 
entitled, "The Bee." The author is Hkctok 
Macnkil. Tune, " Bonnie Dundee."] 

SAW ye my wee thing ? Saw ye my ain thing? 
Saw ye my true love down on yon lea ? 

Cross'd she the meadow yestreen at the gloamin' ? 

Sought she the bumie whar 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 e'e ; 
Red, red her ripe lips, and sweeter than roees:- 

Whar could my wee thing wander frae me ? 

1 saw na your wee thing, I saw na your ain things 
Nor saw I your true love down on yon lea; 

But I met my bonnie thing late in the gloamin', 
Down by the bumie whar flow'rs the haw tree. 

Her hair it was lint-white; her skin it was milk- 
Dark was the blue o' her saft rolling e'e ; 

Red were her ripe lips, and sweeter than roses: 
Sweet were the kisses that ^he ga'e to me. 

It was na my wee thing, it was na my ain thing. 

It was na my true love ye met by the tree: 
Proud is her leal heart ! modest her nature! 

She never lo'ed onie tillance she lo'ed me. 
Her name it is Mary; she's frae Castle-Cary: 

Aft has she sat, when a bairn, on my knee:— 
Fair as your face is, war't fifty times fairer. 

Young bragger, she ne'er would gi'e kisses to thee. 

It was then your Mary ; she's fttie 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 ga'e to me. 


Balrgloom'd tt dMk biow, bkMd-i^ bis cfcMk 4 

WUdllMh'dtkAilrefrMhiaredroUlnf cr«i- || 
Te'i me nir ttala momin< jour boMU and yoor 
Daftadjr«,l)Mifetimitor! fti' lead^ 7* Ita. 

Awtf trf becnlllnff, cried Ik* yovtk, HBlllac : - 
Aff vent the bonnet; the lint-wklte locks iMi 

The belled plaM te*ln«. berwhlle tMBoa itevtnfc 
Fnlr stood the lor'd maid wf ihedask roiUiw 

I* it my wee thing! Is it my aln thinf ! 

Is it mj tnie lore here that I see! 
O Jamie, forH'e me : yonr heart's eonslant to me; 

111 nerer m 

?$es» ms (onntf tore Unit. 

[Fbom "T 
Francis Bmrifocii." The 
•one " Matoxal Philosophy."] 

** Hsr, my bennle wee lai 

Blythe and ehearto wee 

Will ye wed acBBU eai 

Bonnie, bennle wee 

"I ha'e sheep an' I ha'e kjt, 
I ha'e wheat, an' I ha'e rj% 
An' heaps of sUlsr, lass, flMtf% 
That ye shall spen' wi' bm, laflM 
Hey, my boanle wee lami*, 
Blythe and ohssrts wee ImbK 
WiU ye wed a oanij oarie, 
Bonnle,fe " 

"Ye shall dress In d 
My Kowd and gear dutU a' be thine^ 
And 1 to ye be CTer kind, 
6ay, wtU ye many me, lasris? 
Hey, my bonnie wee lassie^ 
Blythe and eheerie wee laiiiek 
WUl ye wed a canty carte, - 
Bonnie, smiling wee lasda." 

** Oae hame, sold man, an' dam yoor I 
Fill up your lanky sides wT brose. 
An' at the Ingle wann your nose. 
But come na oooitiu' me, carle. 

O ye dawtec anld oaito. 

Ite htwk ntf dee shaU pair, t iwv, 
Bttan I ynir vT jew eada! 

•• Tew hs«» Is enM M' feud WMHMIW 
Ye ha'e nae ■ 
An' sUlsr eaua bny Ue I 
naft plMnn ffes la M*. t 

BM 111 M iiMp wf j% omW 

"I wtaaasten 70V levd wr jra, 
Yenr wMhsrtt hm*% — T wwkmj ¥•-. 
U dsMk rd aseMT dttsMsd ha. 
Than visddad IS yew Mid MsiC 

rn hloMi *tm fsv iNMl, carte; 

"BMIhessrs a lad, an' r» Us nta. 
May Beneea lilssrtnp — Wmnta\ 
ThMgh plaeklBBs, he Is no* Itfa. 
And h* ** ih* aan fsr M^ «Ml* ! 
U yovih an' at* oan M'sr acrs* } 
TfeMwh rteh, 7«i1* M OM man fcr aaa. 


• t 

ohyW.Pam. Okapossd fey J. P. OMkau] 


An' Is 

An' I BMnsi^ ife* w<*i« M ^fmk, 

lWlM1*^w^i^*s■^ry1 m ll. 


An* I mnnn I* ife* grsaawMd mac 



[This was first published in tbe Tea-Table Mis- 
cellany, 1724. The author la Robert Crawford 
of Drumsoy, not, as is generally stated, WiUiam 
Crawford of Auchinames. The air is very old. 
*'The Bush aboon Traquair," says Mr. Robert 
Chambers, a native of the district, " was a small 
grove of birches that formerly adorned the west 
bank of the Quair water, in Peebles-shire, about 
a mile from Traquair house, the seat of the Earl 
of Traquair. But only a few spectral-looking 
remains now denote the spot so long celebrated 
in the popular poetry of Scotland. Leafless even 
in summer, and scarcely to be observed upon 
the bleak hill-side, they form a truly melancholy 
memorial of what must once have been an object 
of great pastoral beauty, as well as the scene of 
many such fond attachments as that delineated 
in the following verses."] 

Hear me, ye nymphs, and ev'ry swain, 

I'll tell how Peggie grieves me; 
Though thus I languish and complain, 

Alas ! she ne'er believes me. 
My vows and sighs, like silent air, 

Unheeded, never move her; 
The bonnie bush aboon Traquair, 

'Twas there I first did love her. 

That day she smil'd, 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: 
If more there pass'd, I'm not to blame 

1 meant not to oflfend her. 

Yet now she scornful flies the plain. 

The fields we then frequented; 
If e'er we meet, she shows disdain. 

She looks as ne'er acquainted. 
The bonnie bush bloom'd fair in May; 

Its sweets I'll aye remember; 
But now her frowns make it decay; 

It fades as In December. 

Ye rural pow'rs who hear my strains, 
Why thus should Peggie 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. 

^^e S2Ri^oto*g lament. 

[This beautiful and pathetic "Lament" flr«t 
appeared in the Scotsman newspaper, about two or 
three years ago. Its author is Thomas Sm ibxbt.] 

Afork the Lammas tide 

Had dun'd the birken tree. 
In a' our water side 

Nae wife was blest like me ; 
A kind gudeman, and twa 

Sweet bairns were round me here. 
But they're a' ta'en awa' 

Sin' the fa' o' the year. 

Sair trouble cam' our gate. 

And made me, when it cam', 
A bird without a mate, 

A ewe without a lamb. 
Our hay was yet to maw, 

And our com was to shear. 
When they a' dwined awa' 

In the fa' o' the year. 

I downa look a-field. 

For aye I trow I see 
The form that was a bleld 

To my wee bairns and me • 
But wind, and weet, and snaw. 

They never mair can fear. 
Sin' they a' got the ca' 

In the fa' o' the year. 

Aft on the hill at e'ens 

I see him "mang the ferns, 
The lover o' my teens. 

The father o' my bairns: 
For there his plaid I saw 

As gloamin' aye drew near — 
But my a's now awa' 

Sin' the fa' o' the year. 

Our bonnie rigs thelrsel' 

Reca' my waes to mind. 
Our puir dumb beasties toll 

O' a' that 1 ha'e ty ned ; 



For whM oor wlMAi will aw, 
And WhM oar i beep wUl tkmr. 

Bin' mjr %' fMd awa' 
Inlhelk'o' the year? 

Mj hearth !• growlnK eanid, 

And wUl be caulder (till; 
And lair, aair in the &aJd 

WUl be tite winter's chUli 
Vor peau were yet to ea', 

Oor sheep thej were to smear. 
When mj a' dwlned awa' 

In the tk' o' the year. 

I etUe whUes to spin. 

But wee, wee pattenin' fsd 
Come rlnnln' out and in. 

And then I Jost maun freei: 
I ken it's teney a'. 

And Ckfter rows the tear. 
That my a' dwlned awa' 

In the Ca' o' the year. 


To ane sae wae and lane^ 
An' lak' her hamewards sone^ 

In pity 0* her mane: 
Lan« ere the March winds blaw, 

May she, fkr fkr ftae hers. 
Meet them a' that's awa' 


[Warrrw by Sn WAirma Soorr, ftw Cun^ 
bell's Albyn's Anthology, to a UaaUe air, called 
" Cha teid mis a ehaoldh, " (I will nerw fo wlik 
him.) '< In the original Oaelle,* snye tha aallMr, 
" the Lady makes protestations that she will not 
go with the Red Earl's son, nntll the swan should 
build in the cliff, and the eagle In the lake vatU 
one mountain should change plaoee with another, 
and so forth. It Is but fklr to add," oontlnoes 
Sir Waller, slyly, " that there is no aathorlty for 
onppodng that she altered her "><n4 «Tciii|if A« 
vehemence of her proteatatioiu.y' 

Hkar what Highland Nora said: 
The Earlie's son I will not wed. 
Should all the race uf nature die, 
And none be left but he and I. 

For aU the fold, aa4 an Ike • 

1 wUl Ml v«d tte Karllirk • 

Are Ughily made aod Uchily tnka* 
The heather eo the aMuiata^ M^ 

n« Ikwi «te« MM ifeBll avMy awi^ 
Ihal hmm dnp ft«B tf« uid tea* 
T«l Heia, en Mi Mmm W fDM, 
Mi^ hUthely wed tha BacltolB na. 

TIM iwBB, *e mid. IM lakars dMr hnMl 
Mhjr baiter fbrthe aiwliri amit 
n* Avers ten* MTMa maj baAward tan. 
BMQraaofeaa Ml aad era* KUekarat 
Oar kfUad elaa^ wkea blood k hlU. 
IMmv their tai may tara aad if t 
Bat I. v«o an tboM manrdie doM^ 
Woald B*Tv vod tbo Itkrite • ma. 

Bun la Iho walor-llly's shade 

I aem the wUd fwaa madtt 
• tlwA««%leKei1«art 
Vvikm ite iM* •TlbMaM'e «eel 
Vo MgklaM bncat hM tara-d the bail : 
Bat Horaf bean le lest aad wmi- 

^it l.aifO 0* limhfffoii. 

(WeHe aad Masle bj Jaam 

Cair I bear to part wl* thee. 
Hover mair thy keo to eeo, - 
Cha I bear to pan wt' iheo. 
^ - ideri 

Omi^ war y« ower year kalo, 
Toddy Jnp. aad jaapo o- ylll; 
Heart aya kiad. aad loal. aad bale. - 
Tbo boaom Lalid or LaadMioBi 

Ha ihaA ewean b bat M w t 
Ho that ehaals to beU mast f»t 
He that flUle In bacnto. 

Falls in the devll^ ftytng-paa. 



Wha was't ne'er put aith to word, 
Never fleech'd to duke or lord, 
Neyer sat at sinfu' board ?— 

The honest Laird o' Lamington. 

He that cheats can ne'er be just; 
He that lies is ne'er to trust ; 
He- that drinks to drauk his dust, 
Wha can say that wrang is done? 

Wha was't ne'er to fraud inclined? 
Neyer lied sin' he could mind ? 
Ane whase drouth there's few can find ?— 
The honest Laird o' Lamington ! 

I like a man to tak' his glass. 
Toast his friend and bonnie lass; 
He that winna is an ass — 

Deil send him ane to gallop on! 

I like a man that's frank and kind. 
Meets me when I ha'e a mind. 
Sings his sang and drinks me blind. 
Like the honest Laird o' Lamington. 

lu\^ '^uMtmun^ 

[Written by Sir Alexander Bos well to the 
old tune called " The East Neuk o' Fife," and In- 
serted in Thomson's Select Melodies of Scotland.] 

AuLD gudeman, ye're a drucken carle, drucken 

carle; [gaunt; 

A' the lang day ye wink and drink, and gape and 

O' sottish loons ye're the pink and pearl, pink and 

Ill-far'd, doited ne'er-do-weel. [pearl, 

Hech, gudewife ! ye're a fly ting body, flytingbody; 
Will ye ha'e ; but, gude be praised, the wit ye want. 
The puttin' cow should be aye a doddy, aye a doddy. 
Mak' na sic an awsome reel. 

Ye're a sow, auld mam 

Ye get fou, auld man; 

Fye for shame, auld man. 

To your wame, auld man: 
Pinch'd I Min, wi' spinnin' tow, 
A plack to cleid your back and pow. 

It's a lie, gudewife. 

It's your tea, gudewife, 

Na, na, gudewife, 

Ye spend a', gudewife. 


Dinna fa' on me, pell mell, 

Ye like the drap fu' weel yourselL 

Ye's rue, auld gowk, your jest and frolic, jett and 

Dare ye say, goose, I erer liked to tak' a dr&ppy ? 
An 'twerena just to cure the cholic, cure the cholic 
Deil a drap wad weet my mou'. 

Troth, gudewife, an' ye wadna swlther, wadna 

Soon to tak' acholic, when it brings adrap o'cappy. 
But twascore years we ha'e fought thegitber, fought 

Time it is to gree, I trow. 

I'm wrang, auld John, 

Ower lang, auld John, 

For nought, gude John, 

We ha'e fought, gude John* 
Let's help to bear ilk ither's weight. 
We're far ower feckless now to fight. 

Ye're richt, gude Kate; 

The nicht, gude Kate, 

Our cup, gude Kate, 

We'll sup, gude Kate ; 
Thegither frae this hour we'll draw. 
And toom the stoup atween us twa. 

[Printed in the 2d rol. of Herd's Collection, 
1776. It is also given, with the original mooic, in 
the 4th vol. of Johnson's Museum.] 

And fare ye weel, my auld wife; 

Sing bum, bee, berry, bum; 
Fare ye weel, my auld wife; 

Sing bum, bum, bum. 
Fare ye weel, my auld wife. 
The steerer up o' sturt and strife, 
The maut 's abune the meal the nicht, 

Wi' some, some, some. 

And fare ye weel, my pike-staflT; 

Sing bum, bee, berry, bum-. 
Fare ye weel, my pike-staff; 

Sing bum, bum, bum. 
Pare ye weel, my pike-staff; 
Wi' you nae mair my wife 111 baff • 
The maut 's abune the meal the nicht, 
Wi' some, some, some. 



'Sit &l\> Scotti0i €&ent1eman. 

(THn tone wiiU«D on tlM model and to the air of < 
for Um Am I 

Tkb toof 111 line, thooglilfttAly OMdo, U UDi of oMm dST*. 
Of a good old Boottkh tmUMMB.- of food old SooHfak «v>: 
When oar bMODc bold kopi koMO Md koM, Md luc flMfr •M«B l«7«> 
And dioTO with ipood aonw Iko TwMd «*Mld floMlMd^i- bloMj flM» 
Like hnro old BMMM cantloMM an oTilM «li« dMk 

With dimwbridce, moot, and ponealUB, and mo and ttnlwarl sm i 
lltf tteods w good aU hooMd itood. pntrnfA for flghft, and wk«n 
Ub trumpeu' thont the diaigo garo oM, the abhol HOd, AsMa ! 
The brare old SooOlik iminaan att of Ik* oMm tlma. 

In wMHh It wat a foodlr il^t to M« iMi bmt« oU MM, 
When bordordogan fbttk kad oaU'd kli kaid7 MiMkI fliM, 
A4, tioatly nnnktttf la Ihoir fkoni, ko boldl7 M IIM VM, 
Till fhim tkdr ■laid J Mowi^ In dtwd, iko kangMf SontkroM fUL 
Tko Moot old Beouirit flMMloMn aU oriko oldnttM. 

TkenTi noog^ w «k««M kit fMd «M k«Ml M iwad Mo boMd 10 M 
lite dauMaon and malMn m*. kO Joln^ tai vaaaO ftao, 
WhMi loodotl roae iht Mi« aad iMili, Ikt iMdMl ksfk »fv ko. 
And agro klf toart vao. •* SooUaadTb ifgki.* * «f »' Iko koMOi Ikro 
Tko laro old 80001* iMiloaan kU of Ik* oMw itec 

Hit door «M op'd to «T*f7 ono wkoM t^ftraMOMt dwr: 
The itranger cold and hvp«r oU wen alwi^ w«loanM kort} 
For aje he loVd to hear Ike talo oCaadett daodi of wotar. 
How Sngland'a might, OB BumoeTi eaU, dM 4«ia *a«alk Bn«f)m 
The rare old nwKilik gonlleMan an e< Ika oMoa tb— . 

At length death's arrowe, 'i^lnd wh 
Met thla old man aeraUantly ho fbogkllB baHlo toM; 
Where, though attaek'd b7 tteoo to one, j« mu ko NOffa'd !• TtaMt 
Bat blow for blow ho deall tko CM. tffl doolk kto eyolldi MoTtt. 
So died thli Soottiek faatiomaa an of tko oMia itaM. 

W. o. R 



^^^ 0u%inu\ ^m^^ 


[Thb following songs, by Robert Tannahiu., 
are, so far as is known to us, here printed for the 
first time. We were favoured with them by the 
poet's brother, Mr. Matthew Tannahill of Paisley, 
•who says they were composed when their author 
was about 16 or 17 years of age. The first is to 
the old air of " Good night and joy be wi' you 
a.'" The second is to the tune of "The Lea 

The evening sun's gaen down the west. 

The birds sit nodding on the tree; 
All nature now prepares for rest. 

But rest prepared there 's none for me. 
The trumpet sounds to war's alarms. 

The drums they beat, the fifes they play,— 
Come, Mary, cheer me wi' thy charms. 

For the morn I will be far away. 

Good night and joy, good night and joy, 
Good night and joy be wi' you a': 

For since it 's so that I must go. 
Good night and joy be wi' you ai 

I gi-ieve to leave my comrades dear, 

I mourn to leave my native shore,— 
To leave my aged parents here. 

And the bonnie lass whom I adore. 
But tender thoughts maun now be hush'd. 

When danger calls I must obey.— 
The transport waits us on the coast, 

And the morn I will be far away. 
Good night and joy, 5ec. 

Adieu, dear Scotia's sea beat coast ! 

Though bleak and drear thy mountains be. 
When on the heaving ocean tost, 

I'll cast a wishful look to thee ! 
And now, dear Mary, fare thee well. 

May Providence thy guardian be ! 
Or in the camp, or on the field, 

I'U heave a sigh, and think on thee ! 
Good night and joy, &c. 


[In introducing this second song, 3Ir. Matthew 
Tannahill says In the communication with which 
we are favoured : " My brother had a strong wish 
to see AUoway's auld haunted kirk, and he and 
two or three of his young acquaintances set out to 
pay it a visit. After seeing the kirk, they riaited 
some of the surrounding scenery. I remember he 
was well pleased with the jaunt, and, when he 
returned, he gave me a copy of two verses of a 
song which he said he wrote in his bed-room the 
first time he was in the town of Ayr. I know he 
did not think much of them himself, and I believe 
he never wrote another copy. I give you them, 
however, such as they are."j 

When I the dreary mountains pass'd, 

My ain kind dearie, O, 
1 thought on thee, my bonnie lass. 

Although I was na near thee, O. 
My heart within me was right sad, 

When others they were cheerie, O, 
They little kent I thought on thee. 

My ain kind dearie, O. 

But now an I ha'e won till Ayr, 

Although I'm geyan weary, O, 
I'll tak' a glass into my ban'. 

And drink to you, my dearie, O, 
Cheer up your heart, my bonnie lass. 

And see you dinna weary, O ; 
In twice three ooks, gin I be spared, 

I'se come again, and see thee, O. 

And row thee up, and row thee down. 
And row thee till I weary, O, 

And row thee o'er the lea ri«, 
},: J ain kind deai-ie, 1 

Mm Imntt^ ofcer t^e bottet. 

[This first appeared in the romance of "The 
Monastery," by Sir Walter Scott, 1820.J 

March, march, Ettrick and Tevlotdale, 
Why, my lads, dinna ye march forward in order? 

March, march, Eskdale and Liddesdale, 
All the blue bonnets are over the border. 


Many a teaiMrfprMd. flatten abOTtyoorkMd, A BMi glntod la tttlr «Mi« fM^ 

MtLDj a emt Ihat to temoo* In Kory, 
Mount and make readj tken, mus of Iks mo«a> 

riikt te 70W (^oMa and tt« oU BfloOMiitoiT. 

Ob— flwattaldlltwbw y u ui Miideawinatafc 

OoflM from tiM (tea «r Um tadi and Ik* roc I 
Com* to (ho one wlMTO tto beaooB li blailac : 

Oomo with the tra^tar, tko laodo, aad Iko bov. 
Tnimpou an Mondlnc* wareloeda an bouidlac i 

Stand to yoar anne, and mank ta food order ) 
Encland ■hall many a dajr teU of dM bkwdy fray 

When the blue bonneie 

9ii, <2^I)IotU. 

[Tnn elecant lyrle appean la the T»-TM4e 
MtooelUny, headed CHMoroy, that bolBf the tone 
to which It to adapted. It hM alee boea eop«od 
into moM other nnnittoi ceUerthme eC Map,aad 
oaerlbed to Pai ui i i Pe— «f CtoHeaM, Mr. 
Charlee Klrkpatrkk HlMitab ktvtnr. >mm— Hy 
dlseorered U to betoag la Ote Ctaito aamy** 
play of the Molbeny TMe, wMeh wm prfalad ta 
1675, befon Pnildaat Tbibei waa bara. II eaa 
thenfon no loafer ba admitted wMh proprlaiy 
into any BeoHtob eelleettea, aad to ea|y wprtend 
hen for the poipow «f aonwUag a lose eMab* 

An CkkrtoleeoMlB 

Yoor lateat beas^ eeald tafil 

No happlaem orpalai 
When I thto dawnlac did admtra. 

And piBtoed the eomlnc day, 
I lltUe thoa«ht that rieinc fln 

Would take my reel away. 

Year chamu In harmlem ehlldhood l«y, 

Ab metato In a mine ; 
Afo from no teoe takee mon awv 

Than yoath eonoealVl in thlnet 
Dot aa yoor oharme Ineenalbly 

To their perfection preai^d, 
80 lore, aa anpereelred, did fly, 

And centre in my breaM. 

My paadon with yoar beauty grew, 

Willie Capld, at my heart, 
Htlll, aa his mother faTour'd toq, 

Threw a new flaming dart. 

tepkjV iha vlaeel of Mi arti - 

rftneflwt appMM ilaa— Bfalaawafpa 
hf J. rwuam, BMafe 



To UH 10 Ha da* e( Iby Ibmalaa? 
flteUaahaadlbat I Inn nlm wj ftlnlbM^li^ 

nagdafftaMr^mldwarfhnaaddaafw? lV% 
Ab,aal CarlfoeltbalBylMlbeaTtafrfik 

Man ia« ea tka t^e er Ika MBaf«. 


the pv tea*, 
1 ly bew > Kwaimn 
Ike Mae iten Ueaai e*er aiy fwf^ 
Aad BMtt where a ftaaama to rfaeptag, 
Aad aty dime ibaU be keaid la ika MUa-a itoiJIafl 


Twaa a aaMler vfca lyeka - tal Mi v«lM aMP to 

Aad lowly Ike ban to (ytac (taae^ 

Xe aoaad neoii Ike ear. nva ikaeraaadlW^ aMaa, 

Or ika hn mt t bre af b tke pa h a I r ea <gM^ 
Bai loaa ikeagh karMi whendM«analtoM«, 

Bj tke w U dar a — keaHly pad^i 
Hto grare la oar baeoato AaU avar ba paaa, 

Aad hto mfflnnmani aefer baaw iteftrtat 

Vbi 0Un$txtl ^Irqpjt. 


The Minstrel sleeps! and common clay ^ My life had been a wilderness. 

Claims what is only common now; 

Unbless'd by fortune's gale, 

His eye hath lost its kindling ray. 

Had fate not link'd my lot to hers, 

And darkness sits upon his brow ! 

The Rose of AUandale. 

The Minstrel sleeps ! -the spell is past. 

His spirit its last flight hath taken; 

The magic wand is broke at last 

Whose touch all things to life could waken ! 

The Minstrel sleeps !- the glory's fled. 

m^^ tf)t ^&mk. 

The soul's returned back to the Giver, 

And all that e'er could die is dead 
Of him whose name shall lire for erer! 

[This humorous exposition of courtship in 
pastoral life is the production of the Rev. Dr. 
James Muibheap, minister of the parish of Urr 

The Minstrel sleeps! -and genius mourns 

ill Galloway, who died in 1808, at the age of 68. 

In tears of woe, and sighs of sorrow; 

It first appeared in Herd's Collection, in 1776.] 

For though each day his song returns. 

The Minstrel's voice, it knows no morrow! 

The Minstrel sleeps! -and death, oh! thou 
Hast laid the mighty with the slain- 

The mantle fallen is folded now. 
And who may it unfold again ? 

Blythp. young Bess to Jean did say, 
WiU ye gang to yon sunny brae, 
Whare flocks do feed, and herds do stray. 

And sport awhUe wi' Jamie ? 
Ah, na, lass ! I'U no gang there. 
Nor about Jamie tak' a care. 
Nor about Jamie tak' a care. 

^^S^ M^U ©t illkEtiaff* 

For he's ta'en up wi' Maggie. 
For hark, and I will teU you, lass. 

[Words by C. Jeffervs. Music composed by 

Did I not see young Jamie pass. 

S. Nelson.] i' -^ J 

Wi' meikle blytheness in his face, 
Outowre the mulr to Maggie ? 

Tub morn was fair, the skies were clear. 

I wat he ga'e her monie a kiss. 

No breath came o'er the sea. 

And Maggie took them nae amiss-. 

When Mary left her Highland cot. 

Tween Uka smack pleas'd her wi' this. 

And wander'd forth with me : 

" That Bess was but a gawkle. 

Tho' flowers deck'd the mountain's side. 

And fragrance fill'd the vale. 

"For when a civU kiss I seek. 

By far the sweetest flower there 

She turns her head and thraws her cheek. 

Was the Rose of AUandale. 

And for an hour she'U hardly speak: 
Wha'd no ca' her agawkie ? 

Where'er I wandered, east or west. 

But sure my Maggie has mair sense, 

Tho' fate began to lour. 

She'll gl'e a score without ofl'ence; 

A solace still was she to me, 

Now gi'e me ane into the mense. 

In sorrow's lonely hour. 

And ye shall be my dawtie." 

When tempests lash'd our gallant bark, 

And rent her shiv'ring sail. 

" Jamie, ye ha'e monie ta'en. 

One maiden form withstood the storm, 

But I will never stand for ane 

•Twas the Rose of AUandale. 

Or twa when we do meet again. 
So ne'er think me a gawkle." 

And when my fever'd lips were parch'd 

"Ah, na, lass, that canna be; 

On Afric's burning sand. 

Sic thoughts as thae are far tn» me, 

She whisper-d hopes of happiness, 

Or onio thy sweet face that see. 

And tales of distant land: , 

. E'er to think thee a gawkie." 

' B 



Bat. whMl, BM wttr o* tkls veil tpMk, 
For yonder Jaate dofli OS meet : 
InaMhd o' ]i«K be kte'd iM tweet, 

I trow he like* the f»wkle. 
" O dear Bm, I hanUj knew. 
When I CUB' hj, your gown mm new; 
I think you're f ot It wet wf dew." 

Qaoth the, " That's like a sawkle: 

" It! wat wf dew, and 'tvlU cM laln, 
And ru iti gowna when U Is fuei 
Sae ye may gan( the gate ye oaiM^ 

And t«U it to yoor dawtie.* 
The KttUt appear'd In Jamie^ atlifci 
He eited, ** O erael maid, hot IWMI, 
If I theald ganc anither gale, 

I ne'er eoold meet mj dawtto." 

The laaM fhilftme him thsy ffew. 
And left poor Jamie Mtr to HM 
That erer Macglfl^e ftee he knew. 

Or yM ca'd Be« a gawkle. 
As they gade owre the Bolr thty mat. 
The hills and dales wf eeho vane* 
The hills and dales wf eolM iaa«. 

** Oanf o^ar llM Bolr la 1 

4 if.^ 

ny TVlea ru Mai to ««e Ifejnil, 

Bal If taid lof« Ihy heart «aa fl 

Kaa— >daalyh»ttoii>l>i 

Vsr 7o« aleae I Ilia ifea ilBii 

For yoa alsM I Mtf* la itaic- 
O lall ■• haw la waol 

£t fell on a doming. 

rrms Moc; tj Joainta BAtua* artglBally a^ 
pnrsd la the Barp el ChMaate, paUklwd ■• 
Glaaiov ttt un, aaA atttad kj Mr. Jala flra- 

& tfll me I^olo to iDOo ttice. 

[Wairrair by Ma. OaAMAv of Qtgtmtn, aai 
lint pabllahod Im tba Mlaaualv af Ika laaiitt 
Border, UOLJ 

Ir doofhty deads my lady pleafN, 
Bight soon ru aMNUit my Bleed! 
And strong his arm, and Cmi his seat. 

That bean fime me the meed. 
Ill wear thy oolouB ta ny «p. 

Thy pktara in my haait> 
And he that heads BMio tkiM «|«k 
Shall rae it to his saaaru 
Then tell me hew to woo thee, lore, 

O tell me how to woo thee! 
For thy dearsake, nae oare 111 take^ 
Though neTer aneiher trow im, 

If gij atttre delight thtne aye, 

I'll tend thy oharaber door all night. 

And sqolre thee all the day. 

That aae uiha 4aardMp» la«« aad laaf. 
Bat the a«M gaiawlia and IMT M^ys «• lliN. 

F«r a afent M ilM 4aar, to kfBid 4ay HiH 
li ■• Ilka a dtty viMa haavl ai tf'aB. 

ynmmoA wUfcal^ half aairX, half skita, 
Balsad «f iha iBMh asd aaaa anaaaly ham. 
His asai waa Mv and Mi arartay vaa VMM, 



" Na, na !" quo' the pauky auld wife, " I trow, " 
You'll fash na' your head wi' a youthfu' gilly. 
As wild and as skeigh as a muirland filly. 

Black Madge is far better and fitter for you." 
He hem'd and he haw'd and he screw'd In his 

And he squeez'd his blue bonnet his twa hands 

For wooers that oome when the sun's in the 
Are mair aukwart than wooers that come at e'en. 

"Black Madge she is prudent."— " "What's that 
to me ? " 

" She is eident and sober, has sense in her noddle. 

Is douse and respeckit."— " I carena a'boddle. 
I'll baulk na' my luive, and my fancy's free." 

Madge toss'd back her head wi' a saucy slight. 
And Nanny ran laughing out to the green ; 

For wooers that come when the sun shines 
Are no like the wooers that come at e'e». 

Awa' flung the laird, and loud muttered he, 

"All the daughters of Eve, between Orkney 
and Tweed, O, 

Black and fair, young and old, dame, damsel, 
and widow, 
May gang wi' their pride to the deil for me ! " 

But the auld gudewife, and her Mays sae tight. 
For a' his loud banning cared little, I ween: 

For a wooer that comes in braid day-light 
Is no like a wooer that comes at e'en. 

11^ 'Mm^ €ouh 

[This song is to be found in Herd's Collection of 
1776. Bums made some slight alterations on it 
for Johnson's Museum. Old king Coul, according 
to fabulous Scottish history, flourished in the fifth 
century, and was father of the giant Fin M'Coul. 
Coila (Ayrshire) was under his sway,] 

Old King Coul was a jolly old soul. 

And a jolly old soul was he; 
And old King Coul, he had a brown bowl. 

And they brought him in fiddlers three: 
And every fiddler was a very good fiddler. 

And a very good fiddler was he : 
Fiddle-diddle, fiddle-diddle,wentthe fiddlers three: 
And there's no a lass in a' Scotland,^ 

Compar'd to our sweet Marjorie. . 

> Old King Coul was a jolly old soul. 
And a jolly old soul was he ; 
Old King Coul, he had a brown bowl. 
And they brought him in pipers three: 
Ha-diddle,how-diddle, hardiddle, how diddle.went 

the pipers three; 
Fiddle-diddle,flddle-diddle,went the fiddlers three: 
And there's no a lass in a' the land, 
Compar'd to our sweet Marjorie. 

Old King Coul was a jolly old soul. 

And a jolly old soul was he ; 
Old King Coul, he had a brown bowl. 
And they brought him in harpers three : 
Twlngle - twangle, twingle-twangle, went the 

Ha-diddle, how-diddle, ha-diddle, how-diddle, 

went the pipers; 
Fiddle-diddle,fiddle-diddle,went the fiddlers three: 
And there's no a lass in a' the land, 
Compar'd to our sweet Marjorie. 

Old King Coul was a jolly old soul, 

And a jolly old soul was he ; 
Old King Coul, he had a brown bowl, 
And they brought him in trumpeters tbre«: 
Twarra-rang, twarra-rang, went the trumpetersj 
Twingle-twangle, twingle-twangle, went the 

harpers ; 
Ha-diddle, how-diddle, ha-diddle, how-diddle, 

went the pipers ; 
riddle-diddle,flddle-diddle,went the fiddlers three: 
And there's no a lass in a' Scotland, 
Compar'd to sweet Marjorie. 

Old King Coul was a jolly old soul. 

And a jolly old soul was he; 
Old King Coul, he had a brown bowl, 
And they brought him in drummers three: 
Rub-a-dub, rub-a-dub, went the drummers: 
Twarra-rang, twarra-rang, went the trumpeters; 
Twingle-twangle, twingle-twangle, went the 

Ha-diddle, how-diddle, ha-diddle, how-diddle, 

went the pipers ; 
Fiddle-diddle,fiddle-dlddle,went the fiddlers throe: 
And there's no a lass in a' the land, 
Compar'd to sweet Marjorie. 


BoornsB iovoa 

SStlUf toajs 8 toanton toag. 

[Tiro foog flnt appeared tn the Tea Tabto lfl» 
eellany, toI. IL, 171 , with tlie IniUalt W. W. 
atu«hed.and iu aatbonhlp U cenenUjr 
toWiLUAM Walkikmaw of Wi HIimI mi w , 
PaUey. Tb« hero of U U »ld to haw 
WiUiam Hamilum of 6Ubcrta«i4, T a nwt^lW b 
the poelfcai wnmptn dm t af » a i— J, a 
of the metikal Ute of flr WUHaa 
Mr. Darid Lalag erM laattMS to IhaK iMt 
HaraiUon was noi only tko hero b«l tka tmi 
aaUior of the •ont, and llMt tko laStlali iw Oy 
Indicate his well-known «oM«tM< of Waaiaa 

WiiLTK wat a wanton wair. 
The bljthMt lad that e'er I mw. 

At bridals stUl he bore the bnc 
An' eairted loro the grro awa*. 

Mis doaUel was of ZeUand shac 

fJUkA wow ! hot WUlle ho was bcaw. 

And at his AeoMor banc a lac 
That pleasTd tho taMs bool of a . 

He was a maa wtthevt a dac 

Hto hoait was fhMk wtthoot a flaw : 
And ajo vhalofw WnUo Mid, 

It stta was haodn as a law. 
Hto boots llMT wore MMdo of the Jac 

Whoa ho wont 10 tho woaipoMohaw. 
Upon the pooa nano dant hUs bn«. 

The no^v a aae aanng Ihoai a*. 

And was na WlUlo wod woith (owd > 

He wan the Ioto o* greai and aaa't 
For after ho tho bilde had kMd. 

He kWd tho lassos hato ale a*. 
8ao moRfly roaad the ilntf thojr row'd. 

When br the hand he led then a'. 
And smack on unaek on thorn bestowed. 

By Tlrtue of a Mandinff law. 

And was na Willie a peat loon. 

As abyrs a lick as s^er was seen i 
When he danc'd wi' the Isoseo i«aad. 

The brideicroom spelr'd wheta he had been. 
QQOth Willie, rre been at the rlnc. 

W.' bobUnc balth my shanks are salr^ 
Gao ea' yovr bride and maidens in. 

For Willie ho dow do nao mair. 

Thoa rs« JO, WOUo, I'D |M oav 
Aad te a woo flU ay the riaf. 



Aad ar ifco ilac yo'U ayo bo lac 
Ualo sojUto wmio yo advaaoo: 

O! Wimohasawaaaealsf: 
For wTi ho loaiBs as a' lo sioor* 

Aad Harswsa vo boan wp iho itaf: 

U «• vaal wmHTM vaMfl« fltef. 

Voniiif ftal^s Ann. 

Bor bralsis aia lh»l la a holy vaOi 

Kao aortal ooa kook ibora. 
What 1^ daar kla, or wha« haad daar loaoh. 

Or what arm tf Ibto daar syaa. 
The htaalo lips, tho orsaaiy lafe. 
Or tho walsl o" Lady Ann ? 


Bat a broMoi'd belt, wl' a haoUo or I 
Her jtany waist awaa spaat 

Oh. she's aa anafh' flt ftr hooT«a> 
Uj boaalo Ia47 Aaa i 


▲ad oooMly dis *o la tho alM, 

MoB^ iaaglBc ooa to fcodt 
Sho wares tho ilaclois ftao hor ciMok, 

Aad her dMaksaooBiloa«h'd «r Iho i 
My boaalo Ladj-^^BO* 


The mornin' clud is tasselt wi' gowd, ^ Like harmony het motion ; 

Like my luve's broider'd cap; 

Her pretty ankle is a spy. 

And on the mantle that my luve wearer 

Betraying fair proportion. 

Is mony a gowden drap. 

Wad mak' a saint forget the sky. 

Her honnie ee-bree's a holy arch, 

Sae warming, sae charming. 

Cast by nae earthly han'. 

Her faultless form and gracefu' air, 

And the breath o' heaven is atween the lips 

Ilk feature - auld nature 

O' my bonnie Lady Ann. 

Declared that she could do nae mair 
Hers are the willing chains 0' love. 

I wonderin' gaze on her stately steps. 

By conquering beauty's sovereign law 

And I beet a hopeless flame! 

And, aye my Chloris' dearest charm. 

To my lure, alas ! she maunna stoop 5 

She says she lo'es me best of a'. 

It wad stain her honour'd name. 

My een are bauld, they dwall on a place 

Let others love the city. 

Where I daurna mint my han'; 

And gaudy show at sunny noon: 

But I water, and tend, and kiss the Howera 

Gi'e me the lonely valley. 

0' my bonuie Lady Ann. 

The dewy eve, and rising moon. 
Fair-beaming, and streaming. 

I am but her father's gardener lad, 

Her silver light the boughs amangj 

And puir puir is my fa' , 

While falling, recaUing, 

My auld mither gets my wee wee fee, 

The amorous thrush concludes her sang 

Wi' fatherless bairnies twa. 

There, dearest Chloris, wilt thou rove 

My lady comes, my lady gaes. 

By whimpling bum and leafy shaw. 

Wi' a fou and kindly han'; 

And hear my vows 0' truth and love. 

0, the blessin' 0' God maun mix wi' my luve. 

And say thou lo'es me Lest of a' ? 

And fa' on Lady Ann. 

^u iElax^m ^2U fjet rlngkt^^ 

^ing on, 0fng m. 

[This was one of Burns's finest contributions 

to George Thomson's collection. The "Chloris" 

here celebrated was Jean Lorimer of Craigieburn, 

[Writtkv by the Ettrtck SHPpnFRn, to the 

in Dumfries-shire, who was also the heroine of 

"Lassie wi' the Lint-white Locks," and other 

Bongs. The description is said to have been true 

SiNo on, sing on, my bonnie bird. 

to her appearance. She was unfortunate in life. 

The sang ye sang yestreen, 0, 

and died so recently as 1831. The air of the song 

When here, aneath the hawthorn wild. 

is Irish, and called Oonagh.2 

I met my bonnie Jean, 0. 
My blude ran prinklin through my veins. 

Sae flaxen were her ringlets. 

My hair began to steer, : 

Her eyebrows of a darker hue. 

My heart play'd deep against my breast. 

Bewitchingly o'erarching 

As I beheld my dear, O. 

Twa laughing een 0' bonnie blue. 

Her smiling, sae wyling. 

weels me on my happy lot ! 

Wad mak' a wretch forget his woe; 

weeb me on my dearie 

What pleasure, what treasure. 

weels me on the charmin' spot. 

Unto those rosy lips to grow. 

Where a' oombin'd to cheer me. 

Such was my Chloris' bonnie face, 

The mavis liltit on the bush. 

When first her bonnie face I saw; 

The lavTOck on the green, O; 

And, aye my Chloris' dearest charm. 

The lily bloom'd, the daisy blushd. 

She says she lo'es me best of a'. ^ 

i But a' was nought to Jean, 0. 



Sine on, rtnf on, my t 

Be neither flM'tf nor mk1«; 
r U w»d 7oar 10T« riH In llM twh, 

Th*t g»n ye riac ■» dMMtet 
She may be kind, die may be nrNt, 

She may be neat and eleuif O : 
Bat O Bhe'i bat a dfymne male, 

Oompar'd wl' bonnle Jean, O. 

If lore wad open a' her itorte. 

An' a' her bloomln' treaevM^ 
And bid me rlee, an' tarn an' cteOM^ 

And taete her ehletal pleaaucas 
My dkolce wad be the roey ekaak. 

The modeet beamln' ty, O . 
The yellow hair, the bo«m fhir. 

The Up* o' oonl dy^i O. 

A bnunble ahade aroaad her httA, 

A bamle poplin' by> O; 
Oar bed the twalrd, <mr ■hael «h« pfaJd 

Oar canopy the eky, O. 
And hara% the bora, an' thatfi th« In 

Arodnd the flewerie creen, O ; 
An' thlf the plaid, an' eare the !•■ 
^Wad be my bonnle Jean, O. 

Bear me, thoa bonnle modeft moon! 

Ye Btamlei twlnUln' hl<h, 0! 
An' a' ye rentle power* aboon. 

That roam athwart the tky, O. 
To tee me pateta' for the psfrt. 

Ye «w me hleM yertrm, O; 
An' erer tfll I braaihe my iMt 

Ye'U am me troe to Jean, O. 

tWarrran by Bin Waltbi BooffT tor Albynli 
Antbolocy, a eoUeetlon of HIcUaad aba edltod by 
Alex. OampbelL There la an old ballad, oaHed 
Jock o' HeaOgrMm, from whl^ the poal hae bor- 
rowed sereral llnee.] 

" War weep ye bj the tide, lady*— 

Why weep ye by the Ude ? 
ru wed ye to my joangeM eon. 

And ye shaU be hia bride; 
And ye thaU be his bride, ladye, 

Sae comely to be Men : " 
Bat aye ahe loot the lean down Ik', 

For Jock 0* Haiddean. . 

4 •VewMlMavflfnKrttfbadM*. 
And dry ttal dmak ae yala; 
Tout FkMk !■ Chtaf of T 

▲ad leM «r iM^tay date) 
Bk IMP li im In y«MM ha*. 

«• A etela a* faM ya mO »at ii*. 

Her hrmM la Mad yew hair, 
Wee wawlad fcwad. mm mamami fcawk. 

9i)f %uM 0* Cociym. 

Tks laird «r OMkpaa. hem yraad aa' h«ra gnat} 
Bk miad la m'ea «» vt' iha ihli^ 0^ iha Aalat 

Bli ale «M vaal poaikHM, la fold at whan a 
Hie vakioeal vw vkMa, Ui eaal It waa Mae t 
He pat oa a riac a twaid, aad oaaTd hat- 
And wha ooold Ntwa tM I«tfd arf a' lfeai> 



SONGS. 23 

He took the grey mare, and rade cannilie— i 
And rapped at the jett o Claverse-ha' Lee; 
"Gae tell mistress Jean to come speedily ben : 
She's wanted to speak wi' the Laird o' Cockpen." 

Where thyme and harebells grow— 
Farewell, the hoary, haunted howe«, 
O'erhung with birk and sloe. 

Mistress Jean she was makin' the elder-flower 

" And what brings the Laird at sic a like time ? " 
She put aff her apron, and on her silk gown. 
Her mutch wi' red ribbons, and gaed awa' down. 

And when she cam' ben, he boued fu' low; 
And what was his errand he soon let her know. 
Amazed was the Laird when the lady said, Na, 
And wi' a laigh curtsle she turned awa". 

Dumfounder'd he was, but nae sigh did he gl'e; 

He mounted his mare, and rade cannilie. 

And aften he thought, as he gaed through the 

"She's daft to refuse the Laird o' Cockpen." 

And now that the Laird his exit had made. 
Mistress Jean she reflected on what she had said; 
♦' Oh ! for ane I'll get better. It's waur I'll get ten - 
I was daft to refuse the Laird o' Cockpen." 

The mossy cave and mouldering tower 
That skirt our native dell - 

The martyr's grave, and lover's bower. 
We bid a sad farewell. 

Home of our love ! our fathers' home « 
Land of the brave and free! 

The sail is flapping on the foam 
That bears us far from thee I 

We seek a wild and distant shore. 
Beyond the western main - 

We leave thee to return no more. 
Nor view thy cliflEs again • 

Our native land-our native vale — 

A long and last adieu ! 
Farewell to bonny Teviotdale, 

And Scotland's mountains bluel 

Keist time that the Laird and the ladj were 

They were gaun arm and arm to the kirk on the 

l^aiti of img i^estt. 

Now she sits in the ha' like a weel-tapplt hen. 
But as yet there's nae chickens appear'd at Cock- 

[Thi< la another effusion of Thomas PKnroi.B'i>, 
on his leaving his native land. It is adapted to 

the tune of "Logan Water."] 

^1)2 'Emi%mnV^ ^autodL 

Maid of my heart -a long farewell ! 
The bark is launch'd, the billows sweU, 
And the vernal gales are blowing free, 
To bear me far from love and thee! 

[Written by the late Thomas Peinglb, in 
1819, on his departure to Southern Africa- It first 
appeared in the Harp of Caledonia, vol. iii., and 
is adapted to the tune of " My guid Lord John."] 

I hate Ambition's haughty name, 

And the heartJess pride of Wealth and Fame; 

Yet now I haste through Ocean's roar 

To woo them on a distant shore. 

Our native land-our native vale- 

A long and last adieu ! 
Farewell to bonny Teviotdale, 

And Cheviot mountains blue. 

Can pain or peril bring relief 
To him who bears a darker grief? 
Can absence calm this feverish thrill ? 
—Ah, no 1— for thou wilt haunt me sillli 

Farewell, ye hills of glorious deeds, 
And streams renown'd in song - 

Farewell, ye braes and blossom'd meads. 
Our hearts have lov'd so long. 

Thy artless grace, thy open truth. 
Thy form that breathd of love and youth, 
Thy voice by Nature fram'd to suit 
The tone of Love's enchanted lute! 

— 1 


SCOmSH 80K6& 

1%7 dtaapllaff cketk aad d«ep4>hie eye, 
Wberan - - 

Thii (\«nm th> itT of loT> lo 
EMk witdMrj of Mol Md 

ComUn'd to ftmmo tho fiUsl ipeU- 

That bloM-and teoke m7 taoMt-Fuwdl! 

[Tint beMttftal wiiff b the prodwUoB of J«or 
MATirs. Mithor of tho ** aUkr Gtta," "QtHvw.s 
poem," &e. Mojbo vm » natlTO of DvmlHoi, 
but ipent the earlj pMt of hk llfila Gtaopnr, 
where he ■erred an « » p i ontlB M hl pMaoempoilior 
QDder the odebnted pclnton^ FooBi. Ho oflot^ 
▼ardi ramoTod to London, and «•■ tong oom< 
neotod then wtth the Star daOjr notnpapor. Bo 
died on tho 14th Marsh, ISM. •'Locaa Bnto" 
wae lint printod In tho Star nowipapor oa tho 
Pd urn* iy«>» >n<> ^ IMtm BoiMlilod origlnnHy 
of «i^ tho flnt two flaaiw, to vhkh, ladoad, 
tho tone. In Mndm, it foooaaUf ttallod. Tho 
foor a ddi t ional iianaae flnt appoaiod ta tho 
Pocket Xnoyelopedia of Soap, pnhMahod atOlao- 
gow in itM, and aio proteMy no! If UajM. 
Tho toBO of "Lofan Walor," to vhkli fhli aad 
tho two Mtovtef ooitfi wo iilann. to of oaa. 
•idorahto aatltal^, and (bote* tho prodMHoa of 
MajBO) oaod to bo mg lo wordi of b7 aoMUo 
a wraimloai AanMtv, beglnnlac. 

Ae aimmer niiht, on Lopui braca^ 

1 help'd a burio on wf her daoe, 

Firat wi' her itoeklnp, and une vt' hor dMoo. 
&C.1 ^^ 

*« Bv Logaa't ttroaaM thai iln MO dooB^ 
Fu' aft wl' glee Fro herded dM«t 
Herded sheep, orgaihoi'd ^btm, 
wr mjr dear lad, on Lopa braoo. 
But vae'e taj heart I thao &ajt are fane, 
Andl, wf grief, may herd alano: 
^Mttle my dear lad mann fhoe hli fhci. 
Far, Ikr fhM me an' Logan braei. 

** Nae matr at Logan klric will ho 
Atween the preachioKi meet wi' me; 
Meet wl' me, or when ifi mirk, 
CoDToy me hame fine Logan kirk. 

9 IvoolBHgrrfagtkMdayta 
FTBO Uik an' ftir I oooM al 
WhUo «7 dMT hMl MMB teeo hto tei^ 
Dm, fltf tao »• as' Logan bnMl 


Whoro aft ho koft hto ti7« «r Ml 
My loTor ^nrtiblMi. an' ly ato ! 
Bdov^ by fiftai^ iwoTd bj ftoi^ 
We'd llTO in Mtoioa Lo«M bcMo." 

AMlaglV «r floarioi otooop 


What fito 11^ hoait MO Ai' o' oare ? 

** What MB I do bM voop aad ■ 
I tar av M vtU MroriMan, 
Hifarwlani to mm M y wao^ 
Win aota OMM hoMO to Legaa 1 
wr ilMl ho dMpTd h« la hto anM. 
▲ad MM, ** Fm fkoo ftoM varlii ' 
I aow ha% •■a4pMr^d ar My flM^ 
W«m hamy llfooa lepa bnoi.* 

▲adiola>A iMr haadi wl' oao OMMoai, 
wr oao OMooaft to «ad IhUr d^iW 

Aa' Bro la bitoD oa Logaa braoo. 

An' aov *o Map, ** thao day* aro gaai^ 

Whoa 1 vr grtof did herd alaao. 

Vte, te ftao MO aa' LogMi Imm." 

CTaa MIowlag vocdo are by Jamm Tbomow, 
anth e r of tho Bimobi. and they appear la tho 
Orph oM C b lode al M m fcr baefc m IVU, aMaifced 
to tht Mao of «« Legaa Wator.*J 

Wm Of«, Foitaao^ vfH Ihoo pioto 
Aa wawlMHag fco to koa^ 

OoMo la bMwooB, tad bid ao part > 



BONGS. 25 

Bid us Bigh on from day to day, ^ 0, wae upon you, men o" state, | 

And wish, and wish -the soul away. 

That brethren rouse to deadly hate! 

Till youth and genial years are flown. 

As ye make many a fond heart mourn. 

And all the life of Ufe is gone. 

Sae may it on your heads return » 
How can your flinty hearta enjoy 

But busy, busy, still art thou. 

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

To bind the loveless joyless tow. 

But soon may peace bring happy days. 

The heart from pleasure to delude. 

And Willie hame to Logan braes 1 

And join the gentle to the rude. 

For once, oh. Fortune, hear my prayer. 

And I absolve thy future care; 

AU other blessings I resign. 
Make but the dear Amanda mine. 

gailoic ani^ .^jbcplict^cjiji 

[This appeared in one of the early Noctes Am- 

ligHini muln. 

brosianae of Blackwood's Magazine (the Royal 

Number of 1822.) It is probably from the pen ol 

Pkofhsmor Wilson.] 

[Thk following are Bukks's words to the tune 

of Logan "Water. They were written four years | 


after the appearance of Mayne's song, and sent to , 

When lightning parts the thunder-cloud. 

Thomson's coUection. Burns was ignorant of 

That blackens all the sea. 

Mayne's production at the time, but had heard the 

And tempests sough through sail and shroud. 

burden of it— 

Ev'n then I'll think on thee, Mary. 

While my dear lad maun face his faes. 

Far, far frae me and Logan braes,— 


and adopted the lines as a fragment of an old song. ] 

I wrap me in that keepsake plaid. 
And lie down amang the snaw; 

LooAN, sweetly didst thou glide. 

While frozen are the tears I shed. 

That day I was my WUlie's bride; 

For him that's far awa'. Willie! 

And years sinsyne ha'e ower us run. 

Like Logan to the summer sun: 


But now thy flowery banks appear 

We sail past monie a bonnie isle; 

Like drumUe winter, dark and drear, 

Wi' maids the shores are thrang; 

WMle my dear lad maun face his faes. 

Before my e'e there's but ae smile. 

Far, far frae me and Logan braes. 

Within my ear ae sang, Mary. 

Again the merry month of May 


Has made our hills and valleys gay; 

In kirk, on every Sabbath-day 

The birds rejoice in leafy bowers. 

For ane on the great deep. 

The bees hum round the breathing flowers: 

Unto my God I humbly pray— 

Blythe morning lifts his rosy eye. 

And whUe I pray, I weep, Willie. 

And evening tears are tears of joy: 

My soul, delightless, a' surveys. 


While Willie's far frae Logan braes. 

The sands are bright wi' golden Bhells. 
The groves wi' blossoms fair ; 

Within yon milk-white hawthorn bush. 

And I think upon the heather-beUs, 

Amang her nestlings sits the thrush; 

That deck thy glossy hair, Mary. 

Her faithf u' mate wiU share her toil, 

Or wi' his sang her cares beguile : 


But I, wi' my sweet nurslings here. 

I read thy letters sent from far. 

Nae mate to help, nae mate to cheer. 

And aft I Wss thy name. 

Pass widow'd nights and joyless days, 

And ask my Maker, frae the war 

While WUlie's far frae Logan braes. ^ 

. If ever thou'lt come hame, Willie. 

1 ^ — ^ 1 


Wlist thoogh yoor fluiMt'i kat be lows 
AneMhthe gre«i hiU4ld« ? 

The aUp tkat Wlllte Mlkln, blown 
Like ebaffb7 wtnd Md tide, Mm7 ? 

Oh ! weel I ken the nftncMn, 

And a' the ateadfiMt land. 
Are held, wl' ipecks like thee Mid mt. 

In the hoUow of Ula hand, 1 

He leee tliee dtting on the bfie. 
Me hinging on the nuut; 

And o'er u» baith, in dew or ipnj, 
Hli ATlnc ahleld Is 0M(, Mmj. 

^j^atetoell to dfunetg. 

[Tan !• the in«da««Mt of Iko Bmr. Dr. No»* 
MAjr M AcuoB. flm, mlnKw «( CkiyboHwii, 
afterwarda of Oampato, and bow of 81. ikimmbatt 
choroh, Olaegow. It It rery p^mlar in Hm B||k* 
landa. The Englidi of the ^onu ii " AilM ftBd 

EmicH agat ttaglBB, Oi 
Elrleh agoi tloginn, O! 
Farewell, Cuewell to Foaciy. 

The wind is Cair, the day is ftae. 
And fwlfUj, swinij rant tiM tteoi 
The boat b floating oa tho ttde^ 
That wafts me olT from FuiMiy. 

A thoosand, thoosand tender ttei 

Accept this day my plnlntlro right; 

Hj heart within me almost diao 

At thought of learing Fnnery. 


With peiuiTe steps I're often strolTd, 
Where Fingars casUe stood of old. 
And llsten'd while the shepherds toU 
The legend tales of Fanery. 


AidUbMl mydMttiwddld, 
flhe«ldIrBt>im,01i! mmjltmt 
Tboo sBlllBg sllll at Faaofy. 

O mosl I kaf» llMM happy MMMv- 
8m, lh«y ipcaad Um liiplag ayii - 

BttavaO t# AdMry* 




iiona!^ (^©up^r. 

[Thb tune called " Donald Conper" is very old; 
and it can be traced back at least as far as the 
middle of the 17th century. The following words 
from Johnson's Musical Museum, Part iv., 1792, 
appear a mere fragment.] 

Hey, Donald, howe Donald, 

Hey Donald Couper ! 
He's gane awa' to seek a wife, 

And he's come hame without her. 

O Donald Couper and his man 
Held to a Highland fair, man; 

And a' to seek a bonnie lass - 
But fient a ane was there, man. 

At length he got a carlin gray. 
And she's come hirplin' hame, man; 

And she's fawn ower the buffet stool, 
And brak' her rumple-bane, man. 

[The first verse and chorus of this song are by 
Tannahim-. The last Terse but one is by Mother- 
well. The other stanzas are by Mr. Gibson, 
teacher, Greenock. R. A. Smith, who possessed 
Tannahill's fragment, set it to a Highland air, 
which he took down from the voice of a country 
girl in Arran.] 

Tho' simmer smiles on bank and brae. 
An' nature bids the heart be gay; 
Yet a' the joys o' flow'ry May, 
Wi' pleasure ne'er can move me. 

Hey Donald! howe Donald! 
Think upon your vow, Donald! 
Mind the heathery knowe, Donald, 
Whare ye vow'd to lo'e me. 

When first ye olimb'd the heath'ry steep, 
Wi' me to ^ear my father's sheep. 
The vows ye made ye said ye'd keep. 
The vows ye made to lo'e me. 
Hey Donald, &c. 

But love is but a weary dream. 
Its joys are like the summer scene. 
Whose beauty is the sunny beam. 
That dazzles to deceive me. 
Hey Donald, &c. 

I downa look on bank or brae, 
I downa greet where a' are gay; 
But, oh ! my heart will break wi' n 
Gin Donald cease to lo'e me. 
Hey Donald, &c. 

My father has a haddin braw. 
His setting sun's just gaun to fa". 
And Donald thou sail get it a'. 
My Donald, gin ye'll loe me. 
He; Donald, &c. 

[This forms the evening song of Ramjiat's Gen- 
tle Shepherd. The " waukin' o' the fauld " alludes 
to the old pastoral practice of watching the sheep- 
folds at night, during the weaning of the lambs, 
on which occasions the shepherd was generally 
favoured with the company of his sweetheart.] 

M» Peggy is a young thing. 
Just enter'd in her teens, 
Fair as the day, and sweet aa May, 
i'air as the day, and always gay: 
My Peggy is a young thing. 
And I'm nae very auld. 
Yet weel I like to meet her at 
The wauking o' the fauld. 

My Peggy speaks sae sweetly 
Whene'er we meet alane, 
I wish nae mair to lay my care, 
I wish nae mair o' a' that's rare: 
My Peggy speaks sae sweetly. 

To a' the lave I'm cauld; 

But she gars a' my spirits glow 

At wauking o' the fauld. 

My Peggy smiles sae kindly 
Whene'er I whisper love. 
That I look down on a' the town. 
That I look down upon a crown: 
My Peggy smiles sae kindly. 

It makes me blythe and banld. 
And naethlng gi'es me sic delight. 
As wauking o' the fauld. 

My Peggy sings sae saftly. 

When on my pipe I playj 
By a' the rest it is confest. 
By a' the rest that she sings best 

SC01TI8U eaaoB. 

And In her Mogi it trald, 
Wi' inDooenoe the w»l« o' eeni 
Ai wMldiic o'the ftald. 

[BoTR the words ftnd the beMittftil afr o ttM 
Ewe-Boghte are of ondoaMad aatlqallj. Tkuj 
are gJTen in the Oipheoi CMadonhw, n ihlkh a d to 
inSt bat belong to a period eoMUarabltj «aill«. 
Bamaar. In hia Tea-TaMe Mleeetlaay, naifti UM 
■ong with a Q, ilgnif jing that It wae an old Mac 
with additloDi. BaniMj^ addltleni vwa mmtlj 
a trifling rerbal alleratiwn or two.J 

Witx 76 gae to the ewe-boghla, Marion, 
And wear In the dieep wl' me? 

The ean diinea eweet, my Marion* 
2}«a nae half »e tweet aa thaa. 

O, Marion's a bonnie laa. 
And the bljthe blink '• in b« #•) 

And tmin wad I marry Marlon, 
Qin Marion wad many me. 

TboeTs gewd In yow garien, Marko, 

Fo' (Un wad I kto av Maitao, 


There'! braw ladi in 1 

Wha gape, and ^owcr wl'tholrire» 
At kirk when th«y teeay Marion. 

But nana o' them loi'ee like ma. 

rre nine milkFewee, my Marlon, 

A oow and a brawny qaey : 
111 gl'e them a' to my Marion, 

Just on her bri«lal-daj. 

And ye'se get a green aqy apron. 
And waistcoat o' London broon; 

And wow but ye'se be Tap^rln' 
Whene'er ye gang to the toon. 

rm young and stout. By Marion, 
Kane danoee like me on the greent 

And, gin ye fottake me, Marion, 
I'll e'en gae draw up wi' Joan. 

8Bin se io to tlie lMt%. 

'"■"'" • wrtiMB ty Bbw 

om I -« la aj Ti^ «4f jaanw wk«a 
tog 9t wttm to «te Wm tmUm, 1 1 
towHw teavdl «( a «Mr fM I lili 
and hM aalMiV of tha aMrti o( Ik* 
Toaa " ' 

pIM^ vw, as ll^y au of vtoaa, iksir n 
flMMM dM aoi ai rm M Iha taMiy af Ba 
waidi la tka taaa a( ilM B«a>Bagteb tm a 

waida adeplad thaai to Ida aaUacUsa. ) 

Wru, ya ga •• tka Iadki» toy Maty, 

Iha'afwafBbythahaaraaa toy Maty, 
I ka'a Bvaca by tha Wavaaa la be traei 

▲ad aaa atoy Um haavaaa ftoHt Be, 

O, pHiki toa y»» toltfe, tojr Mtoy. 

iad pl^4 aM yaar Wy^Mla tead : 
CVpUgto aM yoar tollh, toy Maiy, 

~ ' aIltoT«8oolto*i« 

Wa ia'a pUgtoai aar toMk. toy Maiy, 

la matoal aAallaa to Jato ) 
And eas« ba ika aaato Oai skaU part I 


[Therk is an old ballad called " Lizzy Lindsay," 
of which some fi-agraents remain. The first verse 
of the following words was written by Burns for 
Johnson's Museum, to an old air, '"Will ye gang 
wi' me, Lizzy Lindsay ? " which he communicated. 
The present yersion is Bung to the tune of " The 

Will ye gang wi' me, Lizzy Lindsay, 
Will ye gang to the Highlands wi' me? 

Will ye gang wi' me, Lizzy Lindsay, 
My bride and my darling to be ? 

To gang to the Highlands wi' you, sir, 

I dinna ken how that may be; 
For I ken nae the land that ye live in, 

Nor ken I the lad I'm gaun wi'. 

O Lizzy, lass, ye maun ken little, 

If sae ye dinna ken me; 
For my name is Lord Ronald MacDonald, 

A chieftain o' high degree. 

She haa kilted her coats o' green satin. 
She has kilted them up to the knee. 

And she's aflf wi' Lord Ronald MacDonald, 
His bride and his darling to be. 

[Thr -words of this song belong to about the 
middle of the last century, but their author's 
name has escaped being recorded. They are to 
be found in a collection of songs, called The Char- 
mer, published at Edinburgh in 1751, but whether 
printed there for the first time cannot with cer- 
tainty be said. The title to the song there given 
is "The Druken Wife o' Gallowa'," which title it 
bears in common with "Hooly and Fairly." The 
air is supposed to bfe old.] 

DouN in yon meadow a couple did tarry: 
The gudewife she drank naething but sack and 
canary; (sairly- 

The gudeman complain'd to her friends richt 
Oh, gin my -wife wad drink hooly and fairly ! 
Hooly and fairly, hooly and fairly. 
Oh, gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly i 


(First she drank Crummie, and syne ibe dnmk 

And syne she drank my bonnie gray marie. 
That carried me through a' the dubi and the 

Oh, gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly ! 

She drank her hose, she drank her shoon. 
And syne she drank her bonnie new goun; 
She drank her sark that cover'd her rarely - 
Oh, gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly! 

Wad she drink but her ain things, I wadna care. 
But she drinks my claes that I canna weel spare; 
When I'm wi' my gossips it angers me sairly - 
Oh, gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly ! 

My Sunday's coat she's laid it in wad. 
And the best blue bonnet e'er was on my head; 
At kirk or at mercat I'm cover'd but barely - 
Oh, gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly! 

My bonnie white mittens I wore on my hands. 
Wi' her neibour's Mife she laid them in pawns; 
My bane-headed staff that I looed sae dearly— 
Oh, gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly ! 

I never was for wranglin' nor strife. 
Nor did I deny her the comforts o' life: 
For when there's a war, I'm aye for a parley— 
Oh, gin my wife wad drink hooly and laiily ! 

When there's ony money she maun keep be 

If I seek but a bawbee she'll scold and she'll curse; 
She lives like a queen I butscrimpitandspaiely- 
Oh, gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly I 

A pint wi' her cummers I wad her allow ; 
But when she sits down, oh, the jaud she geta ton, 
And when she is fou she is unco camstarte - 
Oh, gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly ! 

When she comes to the street she roars and she 
rants, [wants; 

Has nae fear o' her neibours, nor minds the house 

She rants up some fule-sang, like. Up your heart, 
Charlie ! — 

Oh, gin my -wite wad drink hooly and fairly ! 

When she comes hame she lays on the l&ds, 
1 he lasses she ca's balth bitches and Jauds, 
And ca's mysell an auld cucklecarlle - 
Oh, gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly ! 


[WBima by iMinu Bamuub fir n io tf i 


, IvteHIi 

▲ad fl»t BM a BtBHdtr. ltatt»«Mll OMlTl 
O flB «7 wlfi v»A MBk ho^r Md Mli«7> 

Or iha ta Ik* I 

WIM 4mA MSB •• «7 kMy ani Mrtr ? 

Jlj* Wwlac Md MMdac and dlgM 

WUIeIrilMldaaadaMfeilpil)iil«M«l7l I 

O gte atr vtft wad fta« kMir a^ •>M7! 

To fUs* and la taMak aad pmiklap aad a-. 
8lM gaap M« llglA-fenrtad and bodMt M« bfa« 
It^ ilttPBi aad ■■■WH UM laa ■• I 


O (la aj vlti «■« ip«d kMtr aad Mrtji 
U— ty— dfcittjr,fca. 

Xa Ikt ktrt He iiaiiil 



▲ad If ja plMBjr iMT, iMTiV* ilavn M* feMB! 
TWtt totaii, Mt?a» aad aadfrtAtfllliv mtm 

O gla ny vlfli «ad Mtta beolj aad Iktriy! 
Uootj and fklrly. *e. 

SBf'tf a' n^mn*. 


[Twaiamlwiiaidii^eritiiaM liBiril. 
Pan •m «■ ka iMHd la Mbiv r««y ¥ MS. aa 

oe lairsdariBC <to I 
I of the vardi^ te|» I 

d vt' h« eaamps, *a Mm la ter bad, 
Tbe «ark a' aaglafllDM, tba bMM in ay^ad. 


O fla ay wtfH vad riai» llMtf aad Ibltty! 
Booty aadftbly.te. 

▲ votdo'foode 

il or pao* *im boar MM^ 

▲ad back la bli loolk bk ato lait lb* 

O gin Bky wife wad fpeak booty and teMy I 
Hoolj and fairly, to. 



▲BAobaaaaaddta tool 


▲ ftale'iboborto^ 

Btm'9 a' wT yoa, klaaMr» 
- ■ iba^jar 



A! aiwaoiaa: 
T«a 0^ ibaa van foMM 



SONGS. 31 

Cats like milk, ^ ttt. I 

And dogs like broo, 

Lads like lasses weel. 

[Vkrsbs to the same air -author unknown. 

And lasses lads too. 

The tune admits of considerable latitude m to the 

We're a' noddin'. Sec. 

measure of the line.] 

Gude'kn to ye, kimmer. 
And are ye alane ? 


0, come and see how blythe are we, 

[VERSB3 furnished by Allan Cvvvmoaku to 

For Jamie he's cam' hame. 

Thoinsous Select Melodies of Scotland.j 

And 0, but he's been lang awa'. 
And 0, my heart was sair 

Our gudewife 's awa'. 

As I sobbed out a lang fareweel- 

Now's the time to woo. 

Maybe to meet nae mair. 

For the lads like lasses. 

Noo we're a' noddin', &c. 

And the lasses lads too. 

The moon 's beaming bright. 

0, sair ha'e I fought. 

And the gowan 's in dew. 

Ear* and late did I toU, 

And my love 's by my side. 

My bairnies for to feed and cleed- 

And we re a' happy now. 

My comfort was their smile ; 

And we're a' noddin'. 

When I thocht on Jamie far awa'. 

Nid, nid, noddin'. 

An' o' his love sae fain. 

And we're a' noddin'. 

A bodin' thrill cam' through my heart 

At our house at hame. 

We'd maybe meet again. 
Noo we're a' noddin', &c. 

I have wale of loves,— 

Nannie rich and fair. 

When he knocket at the door. 

Bessie brown and bonnie. 

I thocht I kent the rap. 

And Kate wi' curling hair ; 

And little Katie cried. 

And Bell young and proud, 

"My daddie he's cam' back; 

Wi' gold aboon her brow. 

A stoun gaed through my anxious breart 

But my Jean has twa e'en 

As thochtfully I sat. 

That glow-r me through and through. 

I raise, I gazed, fell in his arms. 

And we're a' noddin', &c. 

And bursted out and grat. 
Noo we're a' noddin', &c. 

Sair she slights the lads. 

Three lie like to dee. 

Four in sorrow listed. 
And five flew to the sea. 

"ExWxz Punlar. 

Nigh her chamber door 

A' night they watch in dool, 

[Wbitten by Burns. In 1789, for Johnaon't 

Ae kind word frae my love 

Museum, to a tune called Johnnie ifGiU, from 

Would charm frae yule to yule. 

the name of its composer, John M Gill, musldsn. 

And we're a' noddin', &c. 

Girvan, Ayrshire. According to other aooounta, 
the tune is said to be Irish. ] 

Our gudewife 's come hame. 

Now mute maun I woo ; 

0, WILT thou go wi' me. 

My true love's bright glances 

Sweet Tibbie Dunbar? 

Shine a' the chamber through ; 

0, wilt thou go wf me. 

O, sweet is her voice. 

Sweet Tibbie Dunbar? 

When she sings at her wark. 

Wilt thou ride on a horse. 

Sweet the touch of her baud, 

Or be drawn in a car. 

And her vows in the dark. 

Or walk by my side. 

And we're a' noddin', &c. 

sweet Tibbie Dunbar? 


BcxymsH sosca 

I mn na thy daddie. 
Hit landt and hit monej, 

I cure na tb j kin 
8m hlc)> uid MM kmllyi 

Bat ne Omw wOt ba'e m* 

Al kB* llttto loekOT: 7«^ aftAt • taitiahri 
aMgr«M7«wplBMto rUeraartetaltoy*; 

And eoma In Uij ooaMa, 

(W«rrnDf by Hwcnm MMonn, to tt* MMM 
tone M that of the abore, saaMly./tkiMl* JTMO, 
and pabllthed In tli« rtztk tqIum if JtkBMtt^ 

Comb under my ptekUe: tktnlgkrigMmlote'; 
Come In frM the oaold bla«» tte ditfl» m4 the 

Come under my plaldto,aDd ri*4owBk«ld«B«: 
There* room int, deM* bMto, beltov* OM, fbr tva. 
Come under my plaldte. and tit d««B b«ld« bm; 
ni hap ye CM* er«7 caold btait ttet flan Mawt 
OooM nnder B47 plaldto, and tit dovB bMlda M t 
ThM^i iwrninX dear lairie. beltore OM. te iva. 

GM'wawryoarpIaldt*! aald Donald. gM 'wa 
I ftar na the flaald Matt, the drift, aer iha tDaw! 
Gae'wawt'yearplaMle! m no tit b«M« ye t 
TemldHbeaiyfalfllMr! «iM OwmM, «M *va. 
rm laon to 

He'd been at Me^e bridal, ta' trtC aad ft' hiwrl 
Kane daneet tae Uehtly. ta* giaotfh'. or lMh47» 
Hit cheeTe like the nev loee, hto htow^ lika Um 


Dear Marlon, let that flee ttMc tett to the wa' i 
Toor Jock*! bat a fowk, and hae nafthlng avat 
The haUl o' hit pack he hat now on hit baek; 
He'i threuy, and I am bat three teora and tw^ 
Be Crank now and kindly- ni boak ye aye flnetyj 
To kirk or to market there'll few gan( ta* beaw; 
A bein boote to bide in, a chatte for to ride in. 
And flunkiet to 'tend ye at aA a« ye ea'. 

My father aye tauld me, my mother and a', 
Te'd mak' a gade husband, and keq> me aye braw; 
It's tnie, I lo'e Johnnie; he't yoanc and he't 

bonnie : 
Hot, wae'a me ! I ken he hat naethlns ava ! 

Whare Joteato v« MMlB* a»« lMBi« h« MO a' t 
TWda y aea p pe to to d l-fcHpr— dheanltdaatod. 
And tiraek 'gataii kh Ma, ae tf tanite' la twa. 

Thahoiriet wao • 


0,ttedtfktelkalMMl « 
TiMgrllllodowavraaM MB aril 
TIM kaffl o* iMr »afria«o Itfowd and a «nliftt 
Plata loTO M *• OHUdaM bMM BOW ihift eaa Uav. 
Aold diluda bo wary t Mk' teat wh* yea BMiry ) 
Tmu« wl««, wr iMr MMfeMb ifeern «M» m4 

m Umj mm wr «M Xoknto Ihai'k ymtkti^ 

Aad UmjTU (1% ye honM OB Ilk b 

Zit lobf Ifi liM of labfrftfM. 

(TBBini MvllBMflf flkliM«at«oM. Iko 
• added by BvBM^ bbA yafcUAed.ta 

A waafti' day M WM to »o( 
ror tkor* I MM aty teiber dav. 
My fcUwr dear aad biMkw tl 





Now, \eae to thee, thou cruel lord! 

A bluidy man I trow thou he ; 
For raonj a heart thou hast made salr, 

That ue'er did wrang to thine or thee. 

[Written by Allan Cunningham, and first 
published in Cromek's llemains of Nithsdale and 
Galloway Song.] 

There liv'd a lass in Inverness, 

She was the pride of a' the town, 
She was blythe as a lark on the flower-tap, 

When frae the nest it's newly flown. 
At kirk she wan the auld folks' luve. 

At dance she wan the ladses' een ; 
She was the blythest aye o' the blythe, 

At wooster-trystes or Halloween. 

As I came in by Inverness, 
The simmer-sun was sinking down, 

there I saw the weel-faur'd lass. 

And she was greeting through the town. 
The gray-hair'd men were a' i' the streets. 

And auld dames crying, (sad to see!) 
"The flower o' the lads o' Inverness 

Lie bluidie on Oulloden-lee!" 

She tore her haffet-links of gowd, 

And dighted aye her comely ee ; 
"My father lies at bluidie Carlisle, 

At Preston sleep my brethren three! 

1 ihought my heart could haud nae niair, 
Mae tears could never blin' my ee; 

But the fa' o' ane has burst my heart, 
A dearer ane there ne'er could be! 

" He trysted me o' luve yestreen. 

Of love-tokens he gave me three ; 
But he's faulded i' the arms o' gory weir, 

O ne'er again to think o' me! 
The forest-flowers shall be my bed. 

My food shall be the wild-berrie. 
The fa' o' the leaf shall co'er me cauld, 

And wauken'd again I wlnna be. 

weep, O M' Scottish dames, 

Weep till ye blin' a mither's ee; 
Nae reeking ha' in fifty miles, 

But naked corses sad to see. 

e O spring is blytherome to the year, 

Trees sprout, flowen spring, and birds ulnt hie; 
But oh ! what spring can raise them up. 
Whose bluidie weir has sealed the eo ? 

The hand of God hung heavie here. 

And lightly touch 'd foul tyrannic! 
It strake the righteous to the ground, 

And lifted the destroyer hie. 
But there's a day, quo' my God in prayer, 

Whan righteousness shall bear the gree ; 
I'll rake the wicked low i' the dust 

And wauken, in bliss, the gude man's ee! 

i^^aiUe 1jc*0 TO2 tailing. 

[Of this popular Jacobite song there are differ- 
ent versions. The following are the words which 
appear in Johnson's Museum, under the super- 
intendence of Burns. In connection with the 
lASt stanza of this song. Sir William (iell relates 
an affecting anecdote of Sir Walter Scott. Sir 
William had the honour of acting aa cicerone to 
Sir Walter during his last illness, when on bis 
visit to Naples and on one occasion, when they 
were toiling over a rugged pathway in the vicinity 
of Mount Vesuvius, Sir Walter was obaerred to 
be muttering some verses. Sir William listened, 
wondering what might be passing iu his com- 
panion's mind, while treading a spot so rich in 
classical associations. But he soon found that 
tlie dying poet's heart was not iu Italy, but was 
reverting, even there, to the scenes of his native 
land; for the words he caught him repeating 
were the close of the present song- 

" It's up yon heathery mounUiin, 
And down yon scroggy glen. 

We daurna gang a-milking, 
For Charlie and his men." i 

'TwA*? on a Monday morning, 

Rlcht early in the year, 
That Charlie cam' to our toun. 

The young Chevalier. 

And Charlie he's my darling, 
My darling, my darling; 

CharUe he's my darling. 
The young Chevalier. 



As he WM wslkinf op Uie Mreci, 

Tbe city for to r\tw, 
O there he ipled » bonoie iam. 

The irindow looking throofh. 

See light's he jumped np the MUr. 

And till d at the pin; 
And irh» we read/ m henel' 

To let the laddie In ! 

Be tec his Jenny on 1^ knee. 
All In hi* Hishlaad divat 

For brawlj weel he kMWtd tiM vaj 
To pleaee a boonte iam. 

It's np yon I 

And down yoa mnuT^t^* 
We daoma sanf a-wHIMm, 

For ChaiUe aadlik MB. 

It^toom of ^oiDt)f nlinoM. 

riBia fine old melody called *TI» 1 
Cowdenknows ** it of (reat aattqator* 

known to h«Te tx' ' ' 

of the crowni of E 

G«y adopted it la hto Benar^ OpamCti 

in 17S8), for r ' - - - - — 

waa oclglBally railed an tart, trlik Um « 
of the ehoHM, vkkk na tkw : 

O, the hrooM, iht bonale, taula teM«, 
The broom of the OowdMikMva. 

I wiih I ware at huM i^Oa, 
Milking my dadd/e awM. 
The two wu of Tense here gtven ara both tnm 
the TeapTable Misodlaay pnbllskad by Fiwaj 
The aatbor of the first asd mm papalar Ml Is 
anknown, but it is snliadtibad vUk tte laittah 
8. R. The author of th« Meead asi la Bosotr 
CiiAwroRD, second son of PairMc OViawlbsd af 
Drumsoy. "Cowdenknows" is aridcydtatttalte 
Laaderdale, Berwickshire, onoe O TST g rew B vUk 
tall and luxuriant broom, but now sabjeolad lo the 

(nasT sxT.] 

How biythe ilk mom was I to see 

My swain come o'er the bill! 
He aktpt the bum, and flew to me, 

I met him wi' good will. ' 



Ha iMhard te «y Aaap Ml B^M, 

And fliMaf'd ■••**• d«f. 

Ba iBMi Mi ||M tad Nti ■• •MM, 
Tka fetoda siadi UMTBl^ k^i 

■v*B ika didl aanta sMad Md pMd. 
ClMai'd «r kit adodr. - 

White tiMi w« spaai aw tiMa ly « 
BMvIxt e«r tads aal pity, 

iMvtad Ml ika MraM dMM^^^ 
na«^ #flr aa tisfe Md ny. ^ 


SONGS. 35 

But my loved song is then the broom ^ Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear, | 

So fair on Cowdeuknows; 

And the rocks melt wi' the luu; 

For sure, so sweet, so soft a bloom. 

I will love thee still, my dear. 

Elsewhere there neyer grows. 

WhUe the sands o' life shaU run. 

There Colin tuned his oaten reed, 

And fare thee weel, my only luve. 

And won my yielding heart ; 

And fare thee weel a while 1 

No shepherd eer that dwelt on Tweed, 

And I will come again, my luve, 


Could play with half such art. 

Though it were ten thousand mile. 

He sung of Tay, of Forth, and Clyde, 

The hills and dales all round, 

Of Leader-haufehs, and Leader-side, 

Oh ! how I bless'd the sound. 

HoSsj ^oton P tit l^iume. 

Yet more delightful is the broom 

So fair on Cowdenknows, 

[Thb tune of "Low down in the Brume," or 

For sure, so fresh, so bright a bloom. 

something very like it, is often given to the song 

Elsewhere there neyer grows. 

above quoted, " A red, red Rose." The words of 
the present song are ascribed to James Cabkboib, 

Not TiTiot braes, so green and gay. 

Esq. of Baluamoon, near Brechin. They can be 

May with this broom compare; 

traced as far back as to a collection published at 

Not Yarrow banks in flowery May, 

Edinburgh in 1765, caUed " The Lark.' J 

Nor the bush aboon Traquair. 

My daddie is a cankert carte. 

More pleasing far are Cowdenkno^-s, 

He'll no twine wi' his gear; 

My peaceful happy home. 

My minuie she's a scauldin' wife. 

Where I was wont to milk my ewes. 

Hands a' the house asteer. 

At e'en amang the broom. 

But let them say, or let them do. 
It's a' ane to me. 

Ye powers that haunt the woods and plains 

For he's low doun, he's In the brume, 

Where Tweed and Tiviot flows. 

That's waitin' on me : 

Convey me to the best of swains. 

Waiting on me, my love. 

And my loved Cowdenknows. 

He's waiting on me: 
For he's low doun, he's In the brume. 

That's waitin' on me. 

^ re^, xt^ mm. 

My auntie Kate sits at her wheel. 

And sair she lightlies me; 
But weel ken I it's a' envy. 

[Writtbn by Burns for Johnson's Museum. 

For ne'er a joe has she. 

Burns says, "The tune of this song is in Neil 

But let them say, &c. 

Gow's first collection, and is there called Major 

My cousin Kate was sair beguiled 
Wi' Johnnie 0' the Glen; 

0, MY hive's like a red, red rose. 

And aye sinsyne she cries. Beware 

That's newly sprung in June; 

0* fause deluding men. 

0, my luve's like the melodie. 

But let them say, &c. 

That's sweetly play'd in tune. 

Gleed Sandy he cam' wast yertreen, 

As fair art thou, my bonnie lass. 

And speir-d when I saw Pate ; 

Sae deep in love am I; 

And aye sinsyne the neebora round 

And I will love thee stiU, my dear. 

They Jeer me air and late. 

Till a' the seas gang diy. ^ 
1 — 1 

. But let them say. Ac 


BOOmSH 9056& 


[J Aim TROMaoH, Mttk«r of ** TlM 

Tnx me, than mil of bcr I Iot«^ 
Ab! (dlDewhltkcrarttkMl0<i 

To wtaM dcUgktftil wotM •hon. 
Appointed for ite happy 4«id? 

Or doH Umq frM at imadoa NMB, 

And MmcliiMi akara ikj Uiwrn^ wm: 
Wluro, void of the*. Mi dMMriMi IMMC 

Cta noir, alat ! no oomftxt kaov? 

Oh! Ifthoahoref^rMndnywalk; 

While niMlor tTM7 v«U kMwa ma, 
I(o thy tenoj'd Aadaw talk, 

Asd aToiy toar to fhU of tkM) 

Shoold thMlte v«i7 fj* or ffK 
Bealda MM ^yapadMila aiNaa, 

In ■tumbar find a ahoit rdtaC 
Ob Tiftt tho« «y aoothlac dNMk 

a^ Hi iDf ats tiller. 

Wha wad Toatua nn IMT. 

That hadna |o» tha alUcr > 

SbiTa ataleiy. ptoad, and tkj. 

Wad gmt« at tha BMNM^. 

You'd think her heart vaa oal 
And nerer garea Batter, 

But toaeh it with the fold, 
T wad melt like tunmer hi 

G a'e tak ' her for a wtlii^ 

8ha'U wink at onie t "' 
And caddie yon throosh life, 

bae laof^ you keep yoor nuUlinf. 
U the weaiy liller, dM. 

And foetaae aeak la aim y% 
It^ ifeaa y«ni aae harilgk^ 

And tha Levd ha'a MV9Mn> 
O the weary rtttari 
Whawad f la m mfcar, 
IhMt iMdM fM ika Mtar ? 

fAip-LADia Hew palauj ftrtkeam 
Lir, -Th* heaalMlMi la a' the waitd." ] 

Tna «vaBlacMa haa deaad the di^, 

The yaOMP aNMili ea her wv 
wr at hmmmtmmmtjm^m. 


When KeldM* «lB«i IHT «vvy I 

liy birtaa iNa Mf Maealv itan 
oriefa «■' hllM we IMrfly draaa. 



IFrom a small volume of "Scottiflh Songs, by Ai-exandkr Humk," published at London in 1835.- 
Air, " The Posie."J 

Eliza was a bonnie lass, an' O, she lo'ed me weel ;— 
Sic love as canna find a tongue, but only hearts can feel; 
But I was poor, her father doure ; he wadna look on me - 
Oh, poverty! oh, poverty ! that love should bow to thee. 

I went unto her mother ; an' I argued, an' I fleeched : 
I spak' o' love an' honesty, an' mair an' mair beseech'd. 
But she was deaf to a' my grief, she wadna look on me— 
Oh, poverty ! oh, poverty! that love should bow to thee. 

I neist went to her brother, an' I told him a' my pain : 
Oh, ho was wae, he tried to say, but it was a' in vain 
Though he was weel in love himsel', nae feeling he'd for me— 
Oh, poverty ! oh, poverty ! that love should bow to thee. 

Oh, wealth, it makes the fool a sage, the knave an honest manj 
An' cankered grey locks young again, gin he ha'e gear an' Ian'; 
To age maun beauty ope her arms, though wi' a tearfu' ee — 
Oh, poverty ! oh, poverty ! that love should bow to thee. 

But wait a wee, O love is slee, and winna be said nay; 
It breaks a' chains except its ain, but it maun ha'e its way; 
Auld age was blind, the priest was kind -now happy as can be; 
Oh, poverty ! oh, poverty 1 we're wed in spite o* thee. 

fM2 ^tmf* 

[Alex. Hume.- Air, "The Posie." This song, set to a beautiful air, was published in "The 
Monthly Repository" for May, 1834.J 

My Bessie, O, but look upon these bonnie budding flowers, 
O, do na they remember thee o' childhood's hap[ y hours. 
When we upon this very hill sae aft did row an' play. 
An' thou wert like the morning sun, an' life a nichUess day. 

The gowans -they were bonnie - how I'd pu' them from the stem. 

An' rin in noisy blythesomeness to thee, my Bess, wi' them. 

An' place them in thy white, white breast; for which thoudstsmUe on me.- 

I saw nae mair the gowans then -then saw I only thee. 

Like twa fair roses on a tree, we flourish'd an' we grew; 
An' as we grew our loves grew too, for feeling was their dew. 
How . ft thou'dst thraw thy wee bit arms in love about my neck, 
An' breathe young vows, that after jeai-s o' sorrow ha'e na brak. 



We'd ntoe oor Ilaplnf toIom ta anld OoiUli aMlUaf hkya. 
An' dncUua Marfta' ule »boat Doo^ biBSte bMki »b' feiM 
Bat thoehl DA we 0^ bank! an' biiMi^ ociik liM at o«r fM« 
Like 7on wee bird, we »DC ow Mac 7M tea* M thtt tvw r 

O, U n» this a Jojoui daj ? kind 1 
In sUdneH an' in loTelineM, owiw »' w* wiww vs 
The lintiee, thej an UUln« lore oo Ukata* W « 
O miv de Jogrt be effw fdi, my Bm, ^ ifcM Ml' ■ 

Vonnie Sg^if laiig. 

rJAifMMacDoifAt&-BOTtflnlpctaMi. IfMltly Mr-MMifftppa 

Oh en we part, vy baul taaft M«, t» Alt •• banlt aafc 
▲boalmy aln iweei lady-leve, mj daittag Aflle Kaaci 
It li na tka» her eheeki are nke llM UeMrtiff teMik leiih 
It ii na that her braw li wme ae eialalea AlplBe M«v% 
It to aa that her leeki an Maek ae e«j mvMi^i wtafr 
Her tot hw ee «* wiulnf lie*, thai MM aa tMi^ ilat. 



The eaiellliw e^ jeTOTe bMi < Mm 


Por weel I ken her heart to Blae,- the 

I preaed her ntlkwhlto hua' ta mine - rfM aaflM ae a 
Bat ah ! ftae me, b«r tale o' lore, thto world HMMuaa wuew 

I WW the rflTer 11^ C heavw ftr oa her boBide brav, 

▲n' fitter OB the htaaer Make «fea her dMTiy mea't 

I Mw the Nlj meewbinie Meal the redaem e^ the teae. 

An' Bleep npon her downy cheek ta beaatiftal repeea.— 

The moon roee M(h, the iMHa laod by , bat aye dM aiflai aa ai^ 

An' what the wadaa breathe ta werda ehe laaU to wl' her «a. 

I're aat within a pa la ee hall aatfd the paad aa' lay, 

rre liMen'd to the earalTal o^ merry Mr* ta May. 

Ire been in Joyooa eompaalca-the wala •* atfrth aa' glee. 

An* danced In natare^i fhlty bowen by ■ 

But nerer haa thie heart o' mine oareet'd tap 

As In that moonlit glen an' bower, wt' A^le bf a^y aMek 


[Jambs MuRRAv.-Here first printed. -Tune, "Katy TjreU."] 

On the green banks of Neidpath, whilst pensively roaming. 

To mark the dull shadows that creep o'er the plain, 
I count the lang hours, and I sigh for the gloaming. 

For then I shall meet with my Anna again. 
I'll watch when the swain to his cottage is wending, 

I'll watch when the bird gangs to sleep on the tree, 
I'll watch when the shadows of eve are descending. 

And then, dearest Anna, I'll hasten to thee. 

'Twas lang ere I tauld, though I loved her so dearly, 

'Twas lang ere I ventured my lassie to woo, 
'Twas lang ere my heart felt she loved so sincerely. 

But sighs reveal secrets of love that is true. 
And dark cares may gather- but care shanna fear me; 

The storms of misfortune undaunted I'll see. 
I'll smile when they frown, for if Anna be near me, 

They'U cease 'neath the light of her love-beaming ee. 

[Jahes MuRRAY.-Here first printed.— Tune, " The brier bush."] 

O, WEARY fa' that little fairie, our Isabell— 

O, plague be on that wilfu' fairie, our Isabell; 

For although we like the lassie weel and that she kens hersel'— 

Yet ower the border, right or wrang, will our Isabell. 

O, we'll seldom get a sang at e'en, and scarce a tune ava, 
6ae we may sit and hing our lugs when she gangs awa' ; 
For little Bessie winna croon, and Johnnie scarcely craw. 
They'll be sao dowf and dowie soon when she gangs awa'. 

The sky that smiles sae fair at mom, ere night may be o'ercast; 
Sae our dearest pleasures fade away, and downa langer last; 
And it ser's us nought to sit and fret, whatever may befrf— 
But, guidsake, wha wad e'er ha'e thought o' her gaun awa\ 

O, we've canker'd folk and canny folk In our house at hame, 
And some that scarce dow bide a joke in our house at hame; 
And we'd ower the border ane and a', if ever we heard tell 
That ony birkie daur'd to gloom at our Isabell. 

O, weary fa' that little fairie, our Isabell - 

O, plague be on that wllfu' fairie, our Isabell; 

For although we like the gipsle malr than ony tongue can tell. 

Yet, ower the border, right or wrang, will our Isabell. 


S001T18H 8050a 

'^iext &)a$ a lajijs. 

[TRn song, which it remarkable for ita bean^j 
and ballad-like (implicit/. Bvntn vroie lo tbe 
tune of " Bonnie Jean," andwntittoThonapo for 
hia oollection. Thoroaon inMit«d II, bat adapMd 
it to Um tone of " WiUie mt a vaoton wtf." 
The heroine waa iilm Jean Maeorardo (alUr- 
irardt Mrs. Crawford), eldeaC daughter of Jeka 
Maemardo, Keq. of Drumlaa>1(. **I hart aoC 
painted her," nji the poet, "tn Ik* nak whiak 
she holds in life, but in the dreaiMidihMMMror 

THRim wns a la«, and ste wm Mi^ 

At kirk and markel to b« ama. 
When a' the fklrtat maid* wen mt». 

The faireM matd was boaato Jma. 

And aye she wroogkl Imt ■■■■liTa walk, 

Andayeeheianc — wiHH; 
The bUtbeM blid apM tka bMk 

Had M^er a Hgklw kMM IkM *«. 

But hawka wfU rob Om iMdv jofi 
That biMi tbt ttttto Hatvkllt^ B«l I 

And froet wiU bUgbt lk« tetoM Bovm. 
And lore wlU bnak i 

Tb« MB vaa rfaklAf la tk* w«i, 

n« kMa a^ vwMt ta Uka gnvi 
Hit flkMk •• ks** ka toad Ij »rs«i. 


▲ad kara !• i«ai Om 

\'onnc BobI* wm Ik* bcawMl lad. 

The floww aad prtda of a' tbv itai^ 
And ke had owMB, ikMp, aad k|% 

Ue gaed wf Jeaato to tka taTMa^ 
Ue danc'd wl' Jeaaie oo Ik* d««ai 

And lang ere wlUeM JeaaSa wiM, 
Her heart wai tin^ k«r paaaa waa Mova. 

As in the boeom o' tka mtmn. 
The moonbeam dwalla at dewy a'aat 

So tremblinf , para, waa tander lora. 
Within the br«a« o' boaak Jeaa. 

And now she worka ker naauale^ «arl^ 
And aye she atgha wl' car* aad palat 

Yet wisfna what her aU migkt ba. 
Or what wad mak' her weel agala. 

Bat did na Jeanie's heart loop light. 
And did najoj blink in herea. 

As Roliie tauld a tale o' lore, 
Ae e'enin' on the Illy lea/ 

Al ki«lk ika Uaak'd a ••art aaaaaal, 
Aad tort waa 9jm kalvaaa ikaai iw 

(Taa mmm ta It a wg ^i TMa^lkkla Mhaal- 
laay.kMlifnkabtraraldardaM. Tka iaa« •! 
" My )• Jaaai- la la aaM aM I 

Wkaa y« aasa Iv ika 1 asB, ikaa. 
Far tka tof« ya bear la »a, 

Tkan yaall aaa yaar kaaato art'. 

Ikaa a aiy kla wlU «f aad ew«ar 

1 droaaM ayaar fttr aia. sir. 
Hand Ika kaiiar Iv Um boMb 

Jaaai, Jaaal) 
flMd Ika banar ^ Um bn% 

Cadailr, tvyaar 

Wot Ik* tova j« baar K 

--. .... -- ■ -. 


Clout the auld the new are dear, ^ Sad will I be so bereft. 

Jauet, Janet; 

Nancie, Nancie; 

Ae pair may gain je hauf a year. 

Yet I'll try to make a shift, 

Mj jo Jauet. 

My spouse Nancie. 

But, what if, dancin' on the green, 

My poor heart then break it most. 

And skippin' lilce a maukin. 

My last hour I'm near it ; 

They should see my clouted sheen, 

When you lay me in the dust, 

Of me they will be taukin'. 

Think- think how you will bear K. 

Dance aye laigh, and late at e'en. 

I will hope and trust in Heaven, 

Janet, Janet; 

Nancie, Nancie, 

Syne a' their fauts wiU no be seen. 

Strength to bear it will be given. 

My jo Janet. 

Aiy spouse Nancie. 

Kind sir, for your courtesie. 

Well, sir, from the silent dead. 

When ye gae to the cross, then. 

Still I'll try to daunt you ; 

For the love ye bear to me. 

Ever round your midnight bed 

Buy me a pacin' horse, then. 

Horrid sprites shall haunt }'ou. 

Pace upon your spiunin' wheel. 

I'll wed another like my dear 

Janet, Janet ; 

Nancie, Nancie ; 

Pace upon your spinnin' wheel. 

Then all hell will fly for fear. 

jMy jo Janet. 

My spouse Nancie ! 

My spinnin' wheel is auld and stiff, 

The rock o't winna stand, sir; 

To keep the temper-pin in tiff 
Employs richt aft my hand, sir. 

Ecii^on'^ l&onnie fcoo^^. 

Mak' the best o't that ye can. 

Janet, Janet; 

[Writtkn by Robert Tannahiu,, and set to 

But like it never wale a man, 

music by R. A. Smith. Loudon castle, in Ayr- 

My jo Janet. 

shire, with its luxuriant woods, is the locaUiy 

in the present century, in 1805 or somewhat later. 

when the earl of Moira, afterwards marquis of 

Hastings, was commander-in-chief of the forces In 

JiEg ^f-umt, KaMi^. 

Scotland, and universal preparations were mak- 
ing for active service abroad. His lordship was 

married in 1804 lo Flora Muir CampbeU, in her 

[Written by Burns for Thomson's collection. 

own right. Countess of Loudon - and the song It 

to the tune of " AJy jo Janet."J 

supposed to depict the parting of the soldier and 

his young bride. Nothing could exceed its popu- 

Husband, husband, cease your strife, 

larity during many years of the war, and it is siUl 

Nor longer idly rave, sir . 

a favourite. In 1816, whUe Governor-General of 

Though I am your wedded vrtfe. 

India, the earl of Moira was created marquis of 

Yet I'm not your slave, sir. 

Hastings: he returned to England In 1822 or 2S. 

One of two must stiU obey. 

and visited Loudon castle, but died at Malta In 

Nancie, Nancie ; 

1824, of which place he had been appointed gover- 

Is it man or woman, say. 

nor. The late unfortunate Flora Hastings was 

My spouse I^aucie ? 

daughter of this nobleman.] 

If 'tis StiU the lordly word. 

Loudon's bonnie woods and braes, 

Service and obedience ; 

I maun leave them a', lassie; 

I'll desert my sovereign lord. 

Wha can thole when Britain's tIM 

And so good-bye allegiance ! 

Would gie to Britons law, Iwrio ? 


■oomsH soHGa 

Wte vo«ld rim Ik* laid •" d 

Wk» woaU ikoa her «»', lamkaf 

Bfti* MM Mr tepry MdAl di|% 
ABd «mi« k0p« iten MOlte Ikf VMi^ 
Wkta I am ftir a«»', iMri*. 

TMdlBc joy to Um«» luddtot 


Ovw (k« focy Mdi i^ «w, 
IkMH aMjbc tk', te* aw «hr, 
▲ad MM to «IM« 1^ Mb iMidlab 

TiMl Ite MMlM *UM, iMltot 

Dmtm vOl Atald Ikr fUikfld kMT, 

TUl the TMfrtkd Mrtfc h •««{ 

TlMO Wtll BMA, M« BMtr to MVW» 

W«ru «Md Mr fMMtel haypy dv% 


On LoadM^ C«Mi7 1«» li 


popvlar MM of " J Mi rt idy.* 

19 fwb a My >y Bito w y MmmjUj 

Ibn tlM Hln «f MMAodj. 
VoriMMlMara ' ' 

For tU Mk« of MMflkodjr. 
I Ml gMn to M6k a vlfi, 

I am gMn to tav a phMlat 
I kava UutM itoM ^ VM': 

OarttM. Ii tkr daashtor rMdy ? 
fte «k« «k» of Mmabodjr, &a 

Beuj, ImM. My*! UiTMl, 

▲ad te riauMT aak' SM lay? 


Am^ 1 liy My kMk «r ttMb 
■m* ya Ma MMSM M tta 

Vava^f laMly BMy CNm 

OMCMl la «• a feMfMMa 



O, •vMlly Mrfla M MMdMr t 

F»M Uka daa«w iraay Mm ftaa. 

▲BdModBtoaafcakya ' 



Ochon, for somebody ! 
Och hey, for somebody ! 
I wad do - what wad I not ?— 
For the sake of somebody. 

[Written by William Cambron. MusiO by 
Matthew Wilson. j 

Oh! bright the beaming queen o' night 

Shines in yon flowery rale, 
And softly sheds her silyer light 

O'er mountain-path and dale. 
Short is the way, when light's the heart 

That's bound in love's soft spell; 
Sae I'll awa" to Armadale, 

To Jessie o" the Dell. 

We've pu'ed the primrose on thfe braes. 

Beside my Jessie's cot ; 
We've gathefd nuts, we've gathefd slaes. 

In that sweet rural spot. 
The wee short hours danced merrily. 

Like lambkins on the fell. 
As if they join'd in joy wi' me 

And Jessie o' the Dell. 

There's nane to me wi' her can vie, 

I'll love her till I dee. 
For she's sae sweet, and bonnie, aye. 

And kind as kind can be. 
This night in mutual kind embrace, 

O wha our joys can tell ! 
Then I'll awa' to Armadale, 

To Jessie o' the Dell. 

31111 gau: mx ^n^emun* 

[An old ditty preserved in a small collection 
called "The Ballad Book," printed at Edinburgh 
in 1824.] 

I'Lr, gar our gudeman trow 

I'll sell the ladle. 
If he winna buy to me 

A bonuie side-saddle, 

To ride to kirk and bridal. 
And round about the town ; 

Stand about, ye fisher jauda. 
And gi'e my gown room' 

I'll gar our gudeman trow 

I'll tak' the fling-sirings. 
If he winna buy to me 

Twal bonnie gowd rings; 
Ane for ilka finger. 

And twa for ilka thoom ; 
Stand about, ye fisher Jauds, 

And gi'e my gown room ! 

I'll gar our gudeman trow 

That I'm gauu to dee. 
If he winna fee to me 

Valets twa or three. 
To bear my train up frae the dirt. 

And ush me through the town ; 
Stand about, ye fisher jauds. 

And gi'e my gown room ! 

fnmtf lume, ftamc. 

[Contributed by Allan Cunningham to 
Cromek's Remains of Nithsdale and Galloway 
Song, where it is said to be printed from a coj>t 
found in Bums's Common-Place Book. In the 
introduction to the Fortunes of Ntgel, It will be 
remembered. Sir Walter Scott speaks of this song 
in the most laudatory terms.] 

Hamk ' hame! hamel O hame fain wad I b«l 

O, hame, hame, hame, to my ain countrie! 

When the fiower is i' the bud, and the leaf Is on 
the tree. 

The lark shall sing me hame to my aln countrie. 
Hame, hame, hame! O hame fain wad I be I 
O hame, hame, hame, to my ain countrie! 

The green leaf o' loyaltie's beginning now to t^'i 
The bonnie white rose it is withering an' »'; 
But we'll watert wi' the blude of usurping tyran- 

And fresh it shall blaw In my alh countrie ! 

Hame, hame, hame! O hame fain wad I b« ! 

O hame, hame, hame, to my aln countrie ! 


(t there's nocbl now fnc rata mj 


Bot the keys o' kind beftren, to Oftm tk« wni9% 

Thkt a' the nohle tauxtjn, who dl«i for lojallK 

Haj liM asain and flfht for thatr ala coantvta. 

Hune, hMM, hMBol O hMM tete vad I b« 1 

O hMiM, huM, huii«, !• 1^7 aia eoBBtttel 

The great now are poMk vte aMMBplid 10 MT« ; 
The green cnua U fro wtac abWM Ikilr gnvw: 
T«( the eon threap ika Htak i 

ru shine on JO yak ta 7«v alB oaaaM*. 
Hame,taamo,kaiBo! O Imbo ftta wad I Wt 
O hamo, hantc^ haiM, to 1^ alB oeonlrtei 

avomsB Bosoa, 


rrkn forma tka "Budo OarilMra* aoac ta 
Bi KXii a Jollj bo«ani U li flvaa In iko Ifili 
Tolume of George Tkoiaaonli eeUoaHen, to Iko 
tune of ' The u-hlio Ooekada.* Olim aiayi H 

to the tune of " o an jo wa d«i, faMaaa.*] 

A RTORiaim lad ny tor* WM b«a. 
The Lawland Uwe he haM la Mont 
Bot he MUl wa* fhlthfU la kk tfM, 
M J gallant, braw John i 

Sing h»j, my braw Joka i 


Tkoo'a ao* a laA la a' iha iMd, 

Waaaaiaktemr^okar " 

And gada dajMora down kjr kk M^ 
The ladies hearte ko did lufaa, 

Mj gallant braw Joka MigM*-^—^- 

We ranged a' tkMB Twoad to 4kj, 
And lired like lovde aad ladla put 
For a Lawl&nd fhee ko tend atatu 
If J gallant braw Joka f 

rite MtoarHW aia ikaoM XkMkte f«nM 
pofalartaaoof TkoWl ~ 

They banish 'd him beyond tko eea; 
But, ere the bud was on the tno, 
A down my cheeks the pearla laa. 
Embracing my John '"f*''*TVlwiaB 

But, och ' they oatehed him al the ImI, 

And bound hinf in a dangeen fhat; 

Mr curse upon them erery one. 

They're hang'd my braw John iflghlandman * 

Mv tovo wao k«a la AkOTtem 
Tko koaaloM lad ikM «r«r waa Ma: 

Bora larea tto told «!• Mi vklto OMtadc 
O, kiTa a aaMac lavlv kkido t 
O. ka^ a krt* aad a kanto lai; 
Brtlda wkai Bv. aiy kaan li find 
Toiaoavladvrkto«llM«a*idai ' 

O, tant ■• aa Ik* vkUikai. 
Tko kalqr koa^ aia iBMai^ lat ' 
Bai va ika Mat Ikai tfadi aiy oi^ 
b Iko wkMo oo*ado akooa Ike bnc 

rn nO au rMk. IH aaB «y rsoi. 


fWoaaa kf Jaaiai Baoa. 

FAa arar fko kfOi of Iko WaHMr to poaa. 

And down kj iko OoRlo Ikamap to tko MO, 

8ko looTd at a koat vkk tko k 

Away oa tko wave Hko a klid aa tko aaUa I 
▲ad a^ aa It laMaid *a rt^M aad ika aaiV, 

" PteawaD to tko kd I iteU a^ar ato afalat 
Farewell to aiy koM, tki faOaal aad yaaag; 

FaiawaU to tka lad 1 ikaU aaTar aaa aiala. 



" The moorcock that craws on the brows o' Ben- -j& 

He kens o' his bed in a sweet mossy hame; 
The eagle that soars o'er the cliffs of Clan-Uonald, 

Unawed and unhunted his eiry can claim; 
The solan can sleep on his shelye on the shore; 

The cormorant roost on his rock of the sea ; 
But oh ! there is ane whose hard fate I deplore. 

Nor house, ha', nor hame, in his country has he; 
The conflict is past, and our name is no more,. 

There's nought left but soiTow for Scotland an' 

" The target is torn from the arras of the just. 

The helmet is cleft on the brow of the brave. 
The claymore for ever in darkness must rust; 

But red is the sword of the stranger and slave ; 
The hoof of the horse, an' the foot of the proud. 

Have trod o'er the plumes on the bonnet o' blue: 
"Why slept the red ffblt in the breast of the cloud. 

When tyranny revelled in the blood of the true? 
Farewell, my young hero, the gallant and good! 

The crown of thy father is torn from thy brow." 

[This appears in the first Tol. of the Tea-Table 
Miscellany 1724 . Nothing is known of the 
author. The song does not relate to the drums 
of the garrison of Dumbarton on the Clyde (as 
many suppose it does), but to a British regiment, 
called, as was then the custom, after its first 
commander, the Earl of Dumbarton, Dumbarton's 
regiment. The Earl was attached to the Stuart 
family, and died an exile in France in 1692. 

Dumbarton's dmms beat bonnie, O, 

When they mind me of my dear Johnnie, O ; 

How happie am I 

When my soldier is by, 
WTiile he kisses and blesses his Annie, ! 
'Tis a soldier alone can delight me, O; 
For his graceful looks do invite me, O ; 

While guarded in his arms, 

I'll fear no war's alarms. 
Neither danger nor death shall e'er fright me, O. 

>Ty love is a handsome laddie, 0, 
Genteel, but ne'er foppish nor gaudy, O. 
Though commissions are dear. 
Yet I'll buy him one this year. 
For he'll serve no longer a cadie, O. 

A soldier has honour and braTcry, ; 
Unacquainted with rogues and their knaT«i7,0, 

He minds no other tiling 

But the ladies or the king ; 
For every other care is but slavery, 0. 

Then I'll be the captain's lady, O, 
Farewell all my friends and my daddy, O; 
I'll wait no more at home. 
But I'll follow with the drum. 
And whene'er that beats I'll be ready, O. 
Dumbarton's drums sound bonnie, O, 
They are sprightly like my dear Johnnie, O. 
How happy shall I be 
When on my soldier's knee. 
And he kisses and blesses his Annie, '. 

[Written by the Rev John Skinnbr to the 
tune of "Dumbarton's Drums." The pictnro 
here drawn of contented old age was one realized 
in the venerable author's own life.] 

O ! WHY should old age so much wonnd ns, O ? 
There is nothing in't all to confound us, O; 

For how happy now am I, 

With my old wife sitting by. 
And our bairns and our oyes all around ub, O. 
We began in the world wi' naething, O, 
And we've jogged on and toiled for the ae thing, O ; 

We made use of what we had. 

And our thankfu' hearts were glad. 
When we got the bit meat and the clailMng, O. 

We have lived all our lifetime contented, O, 
Since the day we became first acquainted, O; 

It's true we've been but poor. 

And we are so to this hour. 
Yet we never pined nor lamented, O. 
Wo ne'er thought o' schemes to be wealthy. O, 
By ways that were cunning or stealthle, 0; 

But we always had the bliss - 

And what farther could we wtss ? - 
To be pleased wi' ourselves and be healtliy, O. 

What though we canna boast of car KuineM, O^ 
We have plenty of Jockies and Jeanies, O; 

And these, I'm certain, are 

More desirable by far. 
Than a pock full of poor yellow steenie*, O. 


scomsH BOHoa 

We h»Te teen manj a wonder ud ferli«, O, 
Of cluuicei Qua almoM are jtmxlit, O, 
AmoDK rich foUu op aod down. 
Both In oonntrj and in town. 
Who now lire but acrimplj and bar^, CX 

Then why thoold people bnf of p r wp er H y, O? 
A atraitened life, we we, ta no nrUj, O; 

Indeed, we're been la vaol» 

And oar Urine been bol wl. 
Yet we nerer were redooed to actd elMiHf, O. 
In thla house we dm easM MfMter, O^ 
Where we're lon( bean a fttlMr and mfUlkm, O; 

And though not of Mom and nam. 

It will lut oa a' oar time ; 
And I hope we shall nerer need anlllwr, O. 

And when we leare this 1 
We'U depart with a food < 


To a better ho«M «!«• Ikk 
To make room for the next ( 
Then whj should old a^ w WHk wtmmt «^ O? 
There is nothinc in't all to ooBfcand Mb O? 

For how happy now am I, 

With my auld wife ilttlac fey. 
And our balnu and oor oyci all aio«ad w^ O! 

®ttT 6iul)ema» cam* ftamc. 

[TmshUhlylwowMoiddlHyk fiW iadia 
the second odttkni of David BevCf vUkHttam, 17TC 
Johnson reoonred tko toBo fkoat Ikt dB^Bf of as 
old halrdTCMr la Idlataiili, aad fvMUMl H 
for the lint time in tho Mh ToL «f kto II ■] 

OtjR Kudeman cam' hame at e'eo, 

And hame earn' he; 
And there he mw a aaddlo-hono. 

Where nae hone dioald ba. 
Oh, how cam' this hooa k«« ? 

Howcan thiiibe? 

How cam' this horee hers, 

Without the leare o' me? 

A hone! quo' she; 

Ay, a horse, quo* he. 

Te auld blind dotard carle. 

And blinder mat ye be ! 
It's but a bonnie milk<-«ow, 
ajy mither sent to me. 
A milk-cow! quo' he: 
Ay, a milk-cow, quo' she. i 


O k*v «Mi^ Ihto svotd k«% 
WkkMi Um Imif tf mmf 


To aald Mial dslwd wH 
It's bat a panjdfs lyrtK 
Apantdfoepofite! quo'bo: 
Aj, a pairtdfMVBitK «w' H 
' ' "ofeB'tolsaBai 

OvfadaoMHi flam' kamt «l t'ss. 

Aad llMn ka iflsd a powdeTd w1|^ 
Wk«t BBt wic dMBid ba. 

Bow cam' Uds v1< kflra, 
Wliboat tlM IflBTt o' mt? 


SONGS. 47 

A wig! quo 'she; ^ j 

Ay, a wig, quo' he. 

Ye auld blind dotard carle, 
And blinder mat ye be! 

^6c MxH of Inbitmas. 

My minnie sent to me. 

A clocken-hen ! quo' he ; 

[Thb first two stanzas of this song are by 

Ay, a clocken-hen, quo' she. 

David Mallbt (bom 1714 died 1765;) the other 

Far ha'e I ridden. 

stanzas are generally ascribed to the Rev. Ai.bx. 

And muckle ha'e I seen. 

Brycb, minister of Kirknewton (bom 1713; died 

But powder on a clocken-hen 

1786). MaUet's verses appeared in the Orphem 

Saw I neyer nane. 

Caledonius, where they are directed to b« sung 
"to a Scotch tune. The Birks of Endennay." 

Our gudeman cam' hame at e'en. 

They are also given, with the three addiUonal 


stanzas, in the 4th vol. of the Tea-Table Miscel- 

And there he saw a muckle coat. 

lany. "Invermay," says Mr. Robert Chambers, 

Where nae coat should be. 

" is a small woody glen, watered by the rivulet 

How cam' this coat here? 

May, which there joins the river F^ra. It i« 

How can this be ? 

about five mUes above the bridge of Earn, and 

How cam' this coat here. 

nearly nine from Perth. The seat of Mr. Belacbes, 

Without the leave o' me? 

the proprietor of this poetical region, and who 

A coat! quo' she; 

takes from it his territorial designation, stands at 

Ay, a coat, quo' he. 

the bottom of the glen. Both sides of the little 

Ye auld blind dotard carle. 

vale are completely wooded, chiefly with birches; 

And blinder mat ye be! 

It's but a pair o' blankets 

a scene worthy of the attention of the amatory 

My minnie sent to me. 

muse. The course of the May is so sunk among 

Blankets! quo' he; 

rocks, that it cannot be seen, but it can easily be 

Ay, blankets, quo' she. 

traced in its progress by another sense. The pecu- 

Far ha'e I ridden. 

liar sound which it makes in rushing through one 

And muckle ha'e I seen; 

particular part of its narrow, rugged, and tortuouB 

But buttons upon blankets 

Saw I never nane ! 

tion of the Humble- Bumble to be attached to that 
quarter of the vale. Invermay may be at once 

Ben gaed our gudeman. 

and correctly described as the fairest posBible UtUe 

And ben gaed he; 

And there he spied a sturdy man. 

Where nae man should be. 

Thb smiling mom, the breathing spring, 

How cam' this man here? 

Invites the tunefu' birds to sing ; 

How can this be ? 

And, while they warble from the spray. 

How cam' this man here. 

Love melts the universal lay. 

Without the leave o' me.' 

Let us, Amanda, timely wise, 

A man! quo' she; 

Like them, improve the hour that flies; 

Ay, a man, quo' he. 

And In soft raptures waste the day. 

Puir blind body. 

Among the birks of Invermay. 

And blinder mat you be! 

It's but a new milkin' maid, 

For soon the winter of the year. 

My mither sent to me. 

And age, life's winter, wlU appear. 

A maid! quo' he; 

At this thy living bloom will fade, 

Ay, a maid, quo' she. 

As that will strip the verdant shade. 

Far ha'e I ridden. 

Our ta^te of pleasure then Is o'er. 

And muckle ha'e I seen. 

The feather-d songsters are no more; 

But lang bearded maidens 
Saw I never nane. j 

And when they drop, and we decay. 
1 Adieu the birks of InTennaj J 


Tte IftTcroela. now, and UntvMUi ilni^ 
n« rocks Mwwd wltk Mk0« rtagi 
Th« amiit aa4 Um MMkbM Ha, 
la tuMfel ftatas, to ihid tht 4aj. 

TlM wood* now VMT llMir MaUMTMllft 

To mlxth aU natan now initmi 
L«i Qc bo HytiMooM, ikMi, mad fir. 
ikOMac tho Urki of iBTOtfli^. 

BaMd tko kills and vy« annd. 
With lewlBf h«ds aad foifea akoud: 
TiM waaioa kkb and Mddaf bMibs 
Gambol and daaos aroand llMlr daas: 
Tbo busy boos, wttk haaualaf aolas, 
i^nd aU tbo roptUo klad r^toloot 
Lei OS. Uko tbem, thai, itef aad 9liy 
About tbo bilks of laTonsaj. 

Hark, bow tbo watots» as tbajr IMI, 
Loudlj mj loTO to flaidBOBsoall { 
Tbo wanton warso spstt la tiM ' 
And fisbos plar tkrooglmik tko SIMS 
Tbo dreUnc son doos aow adfaaoa^ 

A Tar,6kl ibat fcm la fcMWIy 

Lai oa as Jorlal bo as ifesir, 
Amoaf tbo blrks t€ lanmaj. 

^i, tit poor ifct'rp!)^). 

['■» too Irrts Is gtfm ta ttt im f«l 
Bamsar's Tsa-TMo lIlsssikHij wMMai aaii 
natwo, boi II Is tbo piodasiloa of Ibo a« 
plUbod pool, Witx AM UAmvnm af Bmi 
(bom 1704; dIOd ITM). II «M 
tano Of «*qahMWols," and wID bi 
musk la tbo sseoadTohnnoor Johi 

An tbo poor riiepbod^ movraftal flu«, 
Wben doom'd to loro and doon'd to 

To bear tbo sooraAd ftdr omTs halo. 
Nor daro dlsdoso his aagottl 

Tot eacar looks aad 4j1i^ iVM 

WbUs rspiaio. trmhllac Onv^ alB 

Tho teadcr glaaoa, Iho MOdoiilBf chosk. 

asnpnad with ristaic blaAos, 
A tbonsand Tartoos wajs thoj ipoak 

Thai aiilMi Mash aada 
Thyfiylwit,— dotaty ga es. 


Tin daaih ^smks aM la ihs «h 
flon wlB aj haMB yawM ihs 

Thso, whoa mj trtl sas h sai i a 
Bs this last UsHlV i>v«M. 

Low at ihgr teal to hrsaiha aty h 
Aad dto la illhl «( hSM«i. 

llatb*tiac Ogit. 

(Of ttM aalhor oT ttds aM sai« aoMac k 
kaewB, bai 11 saa ha toasad as fcr bask ao Iha 
daysof Charlss lU haltoa whoam was saat by 
John AboO of Iho nhapal isjsl, a sals bw>m 
rfi«« of Iha ported, aagte Aatis of li, whb tha 
masK ^*w pnbHihsd hi Um. laiho**PUlsto 


layHat of II Is girta. aad alto 

aaoihsr ssac to Iha SBHM laaa, dsllsd *• Kaih'rtat 
Loglo^- ■■■■y% fills <r Mla Iho TM-lhbte 
MisMllaay tlibii oa|f la a *v wards fkoai ihs 


Ppaa a towalM — «ty» 

iMTdhsraatoOt Kladi 
My aaM Is Kaihllaa Oglai 


ta a asaatiy bmM m mmtltft 

i Tho^hlhoaaild 
^ Tanhasaaaaai 



Thj handsome air and graceful look, 4b How sweetly bloomd the f»y fwro Mrk. il 

Excels each clownish roguie; 

How rich the hawthorn'H bloaeuin. 

Thou'rt match for laird, or lord, or duke. 

As underneath their fragrant shade, 

Mj charming Kaih'rine Ogle. 

I clasp'd her to my bosom ! 

The golden hours, on angel wings. 

0! were I but some shepherd swain. 

Flew o'er me and my dearie; 

To feed my flock beside thee ; 

For dear to me as light and life 

At buchting-time to leave the plain. 

Was my sweet Highland Mary. 

In milking to abide thee. 

I'd think myself a happier man, 

Wi' monie a vow, and lock'd embrace, 

Wi' Kate, my club, and dogie. 

Our parting was fu' tender ; 

Than he that hugs his thousands ten. 

And pledging aft to meet again. 

Had I but Kath'rine Ogie. 

We tore ourselves asunder: 

But, oh! fell death's untimely frost. 

Then I'd despise th' imperial throne, 

That nipt my flower so early ! 

And statesmen's dang'rous stations. 

Now green's the sod, and cauld's the cliiv. 

I'd be no king, I'd wear no crown. 

That wraps my Highland Mary ! 

I'd smile at conqu'ring nations. 

Might I caress, and still possess 

O pale, pale now those rosy lii» 

This lass of whom I'm vogie; 

I aft ha'e kiss'd sae fondly ! 

For they're but toys, and still look less. 

And clos'd for aye the sparkling glance 

Compar'd with Kath'rine Ogie. 

That dwelt on me sae kindly ; 

And mouldering now In silent durt. 

I fear for me is not decreed 

That heart that lo'ed me dearly! , 

, So fair, so fine a creature. 

But still within my bosom's core 

"Whose beauty rare makes her exceed 

Shall live my Highland X&rj. 

All other works of nature. 

Clouds of despair surround my love, 

That are both dark and foggie; 
Pity my case, ye Powers above! 

lIEarD IMoridon. 

I die for Kath'rine Ogie. 

[Writtkn hy Burns early in life, and after- 

wards sent to George Thomson, to be Inserted 

^^igjlam^ JEarg. 

in his coUection, to the tune of " Bide ye yet." 
Hazlitt somewhere quotes the second staosa of 

this song as one of extreme beauty.J 

[Bvnvi thought the words of " Kath'rine Ogie" 

unworthy of so beautiful an air, and wrote his 

0, Mart, at thy window be , 

*' Highland Mary" to the same tune. The story 

It Is the wished, the trysted hour: 

of Highland Mary is now familiar to all readers. 

Those smiles and glances let me see 

In a letter to Thomson the poet says, " The sub- 

That make the miser's treasure poor. 

ject of the song is one of the most interesting 

How blithely wad I bide the stoure. 

passages of my youthful days, and I own that I 

A weary slave from sun to sun. 

should be much flattered to see the verses set to 

Could I the rich reward secure. 

an air which would ensure celebrity."] 

The lovely Mary Morison. 

Ye banks and braes, and streams around 

Yestreen, when to the stented string 

The castle o' Montgomery, 

The dance gaed through the llchtlt ha', 

Green be your woods, and fair your flow'rs. 

To thee my fancy took its wing - 

Your waters never drumlie ! 

I sat, but neither heard nor saw. 

There simmer first unfauld her robes. 

Though this was fair, and that was braw. 

And there the langest tarry! 

And yon the toast o' a' the town. 

For there I took the last fareweel 

I sigb'd, and said amang them u'. 

O' my sweet Highland Mary. r 

', Ye are na Mary Morison. 


Or ouHltlMa tawk IIM kMrt or kb; 

WiMM ont7 ftm to toTli« tteci 
If lof« te tor* tkM vflt M (!'•, 

At taMi b« plt7 to »• riMwa; 
Jl thodu oaflratlo (saaA bo 

Ihe tkoekt of Mai7 Mortooa. 

!i)raiiie ^ort ii(eii. 

rSBAmm Uemmmmr ty Iki 
WiiAiAM MormaiircUi. vm ft 
IMtr* Bdliibafcli If MMlM Mii «M ' 
Ittllad Iqran putiMM OM ofikotraMtMidiMidMw 
wt oflbsloDt of iIm Sootttah lyrlnl bom wfeM&M^ 
dera iMjt IMTO piodMOd. Mr. Mottcrwtf wm* 
BBthro of the Buonr PmMi of OImrov, vk«o ko HoIobcImMm 

vhldi to^ plaoo 
ISSC Rto •* ~ 

IVll WaDdMfd CMt, Tto WUdM'd VHt, 
TlmNlgll BOOJ A V0M7 «^ 

Bat DOTor, BOTor, mn fbc|M 
Tho loTO o' Ute** 7oa«g Aiy* 

Tbo Aro tliAt'f blawa on Hilum o'ob 
Mtj wool bo btaek gla Tolot 

Bat blaeker (k* a«»lio tlM boMt 
WbcTo tat fMid lav* WW* Mia. 

O door, door Jooalo llonloaa« 

Tho tboobto o* bjfUM yton 
StUl Mat tboir abMlowi ovor mj foth. 

And blind m7 «on vt' toon: 
Tboj bUod mj oen wl' »at, aat loont. 

And loir and Hdc I pIno, 
A» mtaumj iA\j mmBon* np 

Tho blithe bUBk> 0' I 

Wlai o« vaa boaiii oMiM ifetok ? 

Tbj Hpa won OS Uqr lOMB. bot 

Ob Briad ya feav wo bng ov baa*. 

Wo fliaalfd tbaittw^ baaa? 
Aad Mted JO o' iho aaiwdafiw 

(Tba adMlo Hm tkairt at Boaa). 
WlMB wo na aff 10 i^ad ifeo braoa^ 

Tba brnw jr bcaaa ar imam? 

X J boad rlao rooad aad roaad about. 

Aa aao by aao ibo tboakii n* bade 

<r ariMdMtoo aad V iboau 
Ci, »— la 'lMH Ob,aMrala*l«?o! 

Twaa then we lorit Uk tibor wool, 

TwM then wo two did port; 
Sweet time - nd time! two halnu at aohala. 

Twa balms, and bot ae heart! 
Twai then wo aat on ae lalfb Mnk, 

And tonoi, and looks, and miles were abed. 

Bomembei'd oror nair. 

Ilka dow baais oa a roaa,yot aaa 

Had onj powtrto ipoak f 
That waa a tiaM. a btani Itaaa* 

Wbon froolj gMh^d an tNliBp teib, 



I manrel, Jeanie Morrison, 

Cin I ha'e been to thee 
As closely twined wi' earliest thochts 

As ye ha'e been to me ? 
Oh I tell me gin their music fills 

Thine ear as it does mine ; 
Oh ! say gin e'er your heart grows grit 

Wi' dreamings o' langsyne ? 

Ive wander'd east, I've wandefd west, 

I've borne a weary lot ; 
But in my wanderings, ifar or near, 

Ye never were forgot. 
The fount that first burst frae this heart, 

Still travels on its way: 
And channels deeper as it rins 

The luve o' life's young day. 

O dear, dear Jeanie Morrison, 

Since we were sinder'd young, 
I've never seen your face, nor heard 

The music o' your tongue; 
But I could hug all wretchedness. 

And happy could I die. 
Did I but ken your heart still dream 'd 

o' bygane days and me ! 

[Writtkn by the celebrated Dr. Smolmttt. 
The subject of these verses is thought to have been 
Miss Anne Lascolles, whom the author met with 
in the West Indies, and afterwards made his 

When the rough north forgets to howl. 
And ocean's billows cease to roll ; 
When Lybian sands are bound in ftost. 
And cold to Nova Zembla's lost ; 
When heavenly bodies cease to move, 
My blue-eyed Anne I'll cease to love. 

No more shall flowers the meads adorn, 
Nor sweetness deck the rosy thorn. 
Nor swelling buds proclaim the spring, 
Nor parching heats the dog-star bring. 
Nor laughing lilies paint the grove. 
When blue-eyed Anne I cease to love. 

No more shall joy in hope be found, 
Nor pleasures dance their frolic round, 
Nor love's li^rht god inhabit earth. 
Nor beauty give the passion birth. 

Nor heat to summer-iunihlne eleave. 
When blue-eyed Nftony 1 deoetve. 

When rolling season* ceaae to ehanxe. 

Inconstancy forgets to range ; 
When lavish May no more nhall bloom, 
Nor gardens yield a rich perfume. 
When nature from her sphere shall staiti 
I'll tear my Nanny from my heart. 

^lufj a patce! of togue^. 

[Written by Burns, for Johnson's Museum, 
' to the tune of " Such a parcel of rogues in a na- 
j tion.". The song refers to the disgraceful manner 
in which the union of Scotland with England 
was effected, by the bribery of many of the Scot- 
tish nobles. The beneficial effects of the Union 
were long in developing themselves— indeed, for 
nearly the first fifty years, Scotland was positively 
injured by it ; but, apart from this, Bums, like all 
true-hearted Scotsmen, could never think of the 
loss of hiflcountiy's independence without aagh 
of regret.] 

Fareweel to a' our Scottish fame, 

Fareweel our ancient glory ; 
Fareweel even to the Scottish name. 

Sae fam'd in martial story ! 
Now Sark rins o'er the Solway sands. 

And Tweed rins to the ocean. 
To mark where England's province stands: 

Such a parcel of rogues in a nation! 

What force or guile could not subdue, 

Thro' many warlike ages. 
Is wrought now by a coward few. 

For hireling traitors' wages. 
The English steel we could disdain. 

Secure in valour's station ; 
But English gold has been our bane : 

Such a parcel of rogues lu a nation '. 

O would, ere I had seen the day 
That treason thus could sell us. 

My auld grey head had Hen in clay, 
Wi' Bruce and loyal Wallace ! 

But pith and power, till my last hour 
I'll make this declaration, 

We're bought and sold for English coW = 
. Such a parcel of rogues In a naUou. 

52 ffximaa tOHO& 

i»ittt, tell me tol^ete. 

rWarmw ftr 6«MCi T1mmm% eollMllMi bf Mn. Ouawt of lMPa.««4k» lfw«idi«r Unti^** 
4iVanai««irikoOoBtlMBt«Uhfeiit«glB«tlBim. Ttta«,-naBkMBill«fawaM4.'^. 

Oiranu, tell bm vkcr*. !• jaw Bt^Uaad IftMIt fMM ? 
O wkOT*. t«U OM wkOT*. li 70V Bliktead iMMto fM* ? 
Bt^ goD* vlik ■nwmtac kMMn, wtera Babto 4M«i an «w«. 
And my «d kMA wtn maM* mi IM MM aftlj kMM. 

O wlMN, tell ma wlMTO, 4M JMT RIgUMd lid«to M^y > 
O wtam, taU ■• vlMra, tfM TMr Bliklud tafMto flay > 
H« 4w«U bMaatk Iks MI7 MM, taM* tiM impU 8p<7. 

O wtel, MI ■• wfeat, 4Mi yov I 
O viMi. tall m« whM, dMB TMT B1^Mhi4 MM* w«w ^ 
A IwasM wttk a lofty plaoM, Iha ffJiMi ta4i* ar WW. 
And a vlaM aoroM ika aaa^ feraaM IkaA jMiIaU w«ar a 

TW plpa woald flay a «ha«lM ■M'A* iW taasMa raod kte $y. 
na ipMl or a Blgyaad Maf VOTli KikMB to Mi iV«. 

BM I vOl kopa ta Ma Mm yai la BMlaafa boBBia %oui*. 
BM I wtU iMfo te MO Mm y« la SoMlaiitf't bMMlo I 
Bit nailtra laad of Ukony A 
WMIo wMo ikMi^ an ow BlcMaad k 

(Taa Mlovtac li aaotltar vM«a« aC Ifea Mac by •■ aakaovs hoMU 

O tnma and O vboM. 4oM ywff HItfriaM MMia d««n > 

O wherr. and O wbora, 40M yoar Bl^laad MMIo <l««0 ? 
He dvelb In nMRy tMUaad, viMfo Iha bhM-boUi avaolly a 
And oh. In my bMitl lata My Mdla ^att. 

O wbM. U«l«. what doM yaar B^kaA kddla «oar» 
A narlet coat and bannoi blao, wttk boBslo yaUow bait: 
And nana in tbo varld MB wl' My Wfo aoMvaro. 

O wboro, and O wboro, !■ year BlgMaBd laMla gano > 
U wbero, and O whora, H yoar BlsUaad laddlo caae ? 
Ho's fono te flcht for Oooi|o« oar Mag. aad loft at aUalMo; 
Vor neblo aad bcariTo my loyal E" " 


O what, lassie, what, if your Highland lad be slain ? 

O what, lassie, what, if your Highland lad be slain ? 

o no! true love will be his guard, and bring him safe a^ain ; 

For I never could live without my Highlandman : 

O when, and O when, will your Highland lad come hame? 
O when, and O when, will your Highland lad come hame? 
Whene'er the war is over, he'll return to me with fame ; 
And I'll plait a wreath of flowers for my lovely Highlandman. 

O what will you claim for your constancy to him? 
O what will you claim for your constancy to him ? 
I'll claim a priest to marry us, a clerk to say Amen ; 
And I'll ne'er part again trom my bonnie Highlandman. 

E^2 §:©ltirt ^I^^ WdH* 

IWrittev by the late Charlbs Dovnb Sii.lery. The music by George Barker.l 

Let the proud Indian boast of his jessamine bowers, 
His pastures of perfume, and rose-covered dells; 
While humbly I sing of those wild little flowers. 
The blue bells of Scotland, the Scottish blue bells. 

Wave, wave your dark plumes, ye proud sons of the mounlain. 
For brave is the chieftain your prowess who quells. 
And dreadful your wrath as the foam-flashing fountain, 
That calms' its wild waves 'mid the Scottish blue bells. 

Then strike the loud harp to the land of the river. 
The mountain, the valley, with all their wild spells, 
And shout in the chorus for ever and e^er. 
The blue bells of Scotland, the Scottish blue bells. 

Sublime are your hills when the young day is beaming. 
And green are your groves with their cool crysUl wells, 
And bright are your broadswords, like morning dews gleaming 
On blue bells of Scotland, on Scottish blue bells. 

Awake ! ye light fairies that trip o'er the heather, _ 
Ye mermaids, arise from your coralline cells. 
Come forth with your choms all chanting together. 
The blue bells of Scotland, the Scottish blue bells. 

Then strike the loud harp to the land of the river. 
The mountain, the valley, with all their wild spells. 
And shout in the chorus for ever and ever. 
The blue bells of Scotland, the Scottish blue bells. 


SM^ Ant^f r^oit, ms fo. 

[Warrmi bjr BcBm In ITM. Ibr JokmMi 
MweoB, to a Teiy old tone, oOled /oAfi il NrftrMM, 
flMV /». Tbo orifiiial John Andcnoa, neoortlag 
lo Mfdttlon. Ii Mid to hart ban ifco towa-pipcr 
oTKaho. In Bahop P«t7^ M& book of liaUadt 
(n vrodooHon of the middte of Um IMh oauarj) 
ooeor the followlnc T«mi I'- 
Joha Andcnon, ai7 joo, eoB In w 7* IM bj, 
AndTOwU fMnsholp^hrtdwwIbnkMla nKT*; 
Wool bnken In a p;e, and a haoio in a pat 
John Andatwn, mj Joe, asm In and jtt» (M that. 

And how doe ye, eamaer ? and bov deoTt thrive > 
And how manj balnMhM7e?OtBim«r,l*haeflre. 
Are thej to your awin godoiBaa? Ma^BoainMT. na 
For three o' them vara cottes fnhMt WllUe wae 

awa". • 

The latter ftmr liaai. tt tiin be obHTved. fbm a 
principal portion of the modara "Mid, Boddln'.*. 

Joan AssoHOK, my Jo. John, 
When we wece lint aoqaaol. 
Tear leeke were like the lavwi. 

te floapaay with Mr. Bnah. He dM Ui lan. 
Only the ftr« fear of tlw bUevtac MBMe «M ha 
fctrty attribnied to hton.J 

J«te Aaliik, my )•. ieha. 

I weadar vbM ye meaa. 
Tb r«n MM eatly la Ike mata. 



Bat new year bwwk bal d , J e b a, 

Year laekB an liha the Maw. 
Bat Mamlaii eo year ft««y yew, 

John Andenaai my jew 

John Andetaea, my je, Jeha. 

We elamb the hUl tMgkher, 
And mony a eanty d^, John, 

WeTe had wt' aae aalthar. 
Now we maon toUar down, John, 

Bat hand In hand we'll f». 
And we'll elecp thectther at the foot, 

John AndcTNO, aiy Jo. 

rjn a oolleetlon of " Poetry, original and rnled 
ed," publlahed in penny Moa. between the yaan 
179S and 17M. by Meani. Bradi & Bald. Ql^pv, 
and now very tcaroe, eereral additional -**-rnr 
to "John Andenon, my Jo," are glTea, whloh 
were probably ftam the pen of one of the partnen. 
Mr. WuxtAM RetD. who, at we have already 
hinted at pa^e », bad a knadt In cMaf oat popa> 
lar dltttet. Mr. Reld wee bom at Ola^ew In 
I7C4, and for nearly ihlny yean eanlad on In hItdM 


Ye werr my f 

That I ea' ye Mm aad aeat . 
T»ai«h aame Mke ma y#ie aald. John, 



WW>raaMa ear bi^iaa* balraa. 
Aad yet, my dear Jeto Aadenen, 

Aad ma are ye te adaa, John, 

I'm aM^yell aa'ar mf a*. 
Thar thadayaaiv pa* that we have areiw 

John Andeteao, my Jew 

• HUe. 

Bprtac np Iweea yea an' me; 
Aad Ilka lad and lam, Jeto, 

la oar ftoiatapa to t», 
Makaa partmi baaeta hme en earth. 

iate Aaianaa, «y Ja. 

Oar eiUar ae^er wae rife. 
And yet we n^er mw peeeny. 
ate* we wet* ama aad wUc ; 


We've aye haen bit and brat, John, 4S 

Great blessings here below. 
And that helps to keep peace at hame, 

John Anderson, my jo. 

John Anderson, my jo, John, 

The world lo'es us baith. 
We ne'er spak' ill o' neibours, John, 

Nor did them ony skaith ; 
To live in peace and quietness 

Was a' our care, ye know. 
And I'm sure they'll greet when we are dead, 

John Anderson, my jo. 

John Anderson, my jo. John, 

Frae year to year we've past. 
And soon that year maun come, John, 

Will bring us to our last; 
But let na that affright, John, 

Our hearts were ne'er our foe. 
While in innocent delight we've lived, 

John Anderson, my jo. 

John Anderson, my jo, John, 

And when the time is come. 
That we, like ither auld folk, John, 

Maun sink into the tomb, 
A motto we will ha'e, my John, 

To let the world know. 
We happy lived, contented died, 

John Anderson, my jo. 


Eong ^jgne. 

[Thk following are the earliest known verses 
to the old air of " Auld Lang Syne." They are 
from 'Watson's collection of Scots Poems, part 
HI., published in 1716. The words " Old Long 
Syne," used here throughout, sound ludicrously 
to the ear accustomed to the Doric "Auld Lang 


Should old acquaintance be forgot. 

And never thought upon, 
The flames of love extinguished. 

And freely past and gone ? 
Is thy kind heart now grown so cold 

In that loving breast of thine. 
That thou canst never once reflect 

on old long syne ? ) 

Where are tby protestailom. 

Thy vowB, and oaths, my dear, 
Thou mad'st to me and I to thee. 

In register yet clear ? 
Is faith and truth so violate 

To th' immortal gods divine. 
That thou canst ne^ er once reflect 

On old long syne ? 

Is't Cupid's fears, or frosty cares. 

That makes thy spirits decay ? 
Or is't some object of more worth 

That's stolen thy heart away ? 
Or some desert makes thee neglect 

Him, so much once was thine, 
That thou canst never once reflect 

On old long syne ? 

Is't worldly bares, so desperate. 

That makes thee to despair ? 
Is't that makes thee exasperate, 

And makes thee to forbear ? 
If thou of that were free as I, 

Thou surely should be mine; 
If this were true, we should renew 

Kind old long syne. 

Bnt since that nothing can prevail. 

And all hope is In vain. 
From these dejected eyes of mine 

Still showers of tears shall rain: 
And though thou ha«t me now for^^ot. 

Yet I'll continue thine. 
Ana ne'er forget forto reflect 

On old long syne. 

If e'er I have a house, my dear. 

That truly Is call'd mine, 
And can afford but country cheer. 

Or ought that's good therein ; 
Though thou wert rebel to the kin?. 

And beat with wind and rain. 
Assure thyself of •welcome, love. 

For old long syne. 


My soul is ravitih'd with delight 

When you I think upon ; 
All griefs and sorrows take their flight. 

And hastily are gone : 
The fair resemblance of your face 

So fills this breast of mine. 
No fate nor force can it displace. 

For old long syne. 


BoomsB soNoa 

sine* UMMifhti of joo da buMi ptei; 

WkCB I'm tnm yea iMu ofdt 

Wkra with Md evM rm ■ 

With ecKMlw ditlat, 
bpcdftUy wlMtt I rOmI 
OB old long ^jac 

aae* tkOD feM» loMTd M of ay knrt. 

Hjy tfcow rwlillMi poir— 
WUA Madam Katun doik Input 

To tlMM flUr ar« of 7««us, 
WUk koooor tt dock Boi oomM 

Ta kold a riavo te pjaa ^ 
Praj bi year rtvoar, ikaa, daii^ 

F« old loaf a7M> 

Th aot «y fraodon I do cimro 

Ely daptaoallBc pals* 
Sara, vitttj to voald ool hare 

Wto doilai la Uo fltolBOt 

DaiplM Ito ann aM dtai or « 


Bai faak la lara, apoa aiy ataM 
Ui yoar taava toad MMm^ 

Wiru p 

And la a vaeaM cataiy day 

Taa Aall to vtoQy Mlaa: 

To pity. If Itoa «aa« Bol loviw 
VoroldloBf «yac 

9Lutt Isng iVint. 

IWairrcn t>y R^inAT. and pabHAod In Ito 
Dm voL of his Tca>Tablo MlaooUaay. ITU.] 

Snoots aald aeqaalaiaaoa to ftorioi. 

Thoofh thqr rttam wlih Han? 
ItoM art tto BoMo fearer^ loc, 

Obtaln'd la glartooo wan: 
Weloome, ny Taio» la mj ttmm. 

Thy anna ahovl BM tvlaa. 
And mako mo onoo afalB aa Mai^ 

Am I wat lane ^n«r 

klothlnks aroond oa on oad 

A thoofaod Cupids plaj, 
Whilil throosh tho iroTw I walk with yoo. 

Saeh object makss m« gay: 
Slnee your retorn the tan and moon 

With brighter beam* do thine, 
Streams murroor aoft notes while they mn. 

As they did lang qrnc. 

Tto tora. ploMad wtth tto ewai 

Aad rioa arfmenoi lore, 
WUah hSf toaa BMar'd hy ito 

BawM la Ito pavna atova: 
Vakt day. wttk oaaaMM aiad 

Ttoiy apptaadi'd itoMMM 
Wtoia Ito fMd pttaii Ito aai 

▲»d pmitoBi aat af piaau 

^flulU Img ^finc. 

[TnMavlac kite 
^aa" vktah B«b» aai 
Masaam, and whtali toa 
i Ml a Ihroottto. to ito MoaMS II 
with a B. ^gnttjtat Mai k la aa 
to Ms 
I Mr. 
nyatiuMt to took itoaMf down 
of aa aid BMta^aad w 
tltk partially. Tto Sm. l^aiife. aad 
M«B tngmmtt of aa eld dli|y: ito 

I aCAaM Lai« 

I of «topoai 

I aaiher af ito seai^ va eaaaei asa tow 

I tore ^akaa widk 

I " Ufto to tto taif,- to a^a, **oa Ito I 

I tto haataa lasplwd paaiwto asaapaaad 

Hooa fti^Baat r-na air la wktak «* Aa 

1| Qyaa" la aav f ■laHy aaat la ael ito 

tt one, wkleh Barns proooaaaod 10 to aicd^ 



one adopted from an old Lowland melody, called^ Upon the Lomondg I lay, I lay; 

•• I fee'd a lad at Michaelmas," and now entitled 

Upon the Lomoncis 1 lay : 

in Gow'8 collection of Reels, "Sir Alexander 

I lookit doun to boniile Lochleren, * 

Don's Strathspey."] 

And saw three perches play. 

The Campbells are coming, &c 

Should auld acquaintance be forgot, 

And never brought to min' ? 

Should auld acquaintance be forgot. 

i He makes the cannons and guns to roar ; 

And days o' lang syne ? 

' With sound of trumpet, pipe, and drum ; 

For auld lang syne, my dear. 

The Campbells are coming, 0-ho, o-ho ! 

For auld lang syne. 

AVe'll tak' a cup o' kindness yet. 

The Campbells they are a' in arms. 

For auld lang syne. 

Their loyal faith and truth to show. 
With banners rattling in the wind ; 

"We twa ha'e run about the braes. 

The Campbells are coming, 0-ho, 0-ho I 

And pu'd the gowans fine ; 

But we've wander'd mony a weary fit. 

Sin' auld lang syne. 

"We twa ha'e paid'lt in the bum. 

^am 0* t&e il^alloc^. 

Frae morning sun till dine ; 

Hut seas between us braid ba'e roar'd. 

[Writtev by Hugh Ainslie to the tune of 

Sin' auld lang syne. 

i "The Campbells are coming.'] 

And theres a hand, my trusty frien'. 

In the Nick o' the Balloch lived Muirland Tam, 

And gi'e'sa baud o' thine; 

Weel stentit wi' brochan and braxie-ham . 

And we'll tak' a richt gude-willie waught. 

A breist like a buird, and a back like a door. 

For auld lang syne. 

And a wapping wame that hung down afore. 

A nd surely ye'U be your plnt-stoup. 

But what's come ower ye, >f uirland Tam ? 

And surely I'll be mine ; 

For your leg's now grown like a wheel-barrow 

And we'll tak' a cup o' kindness yet. 


For auld lang syne. 

Your ee it's faun In-your nose it's faun out. 
And the skin o' your cheek's like a dirty clout. 

ance, like a yaud, ye spanklt the bent, 
Wi' a fecket sae fu', and a stocking sae stent. 

^J)£ 0aiiB|p'b^Il^ are coming. 

The strength o' a stot-the wecht o' a cow ; 

Now, Tammy, my man, ye're grown like a grew. , 

[The following words are given in Johnson's 

I mind sin* the blink o' a canty quean 

Museum to the well-known tune of "The Camp- 

Could watered your mou and llchtlt your een; 

bells are coming." From the mention of Loch- 

Now ye leuk like a yowe, when ye should be a nun; 

leven, they are absurdly supposed by some to 

what can be wrang wi' ye, Muirland Tam ? 

belong to the days of Queen Mary's imprisonment 

there. They were with much greater probability 

Has some dowg o' the ylrth set yer gear abreed? 

composed when "the great Argyle and a' his 

Ha'e they broken your heart or broken your head? 

men" marched northward to suppress the insur- 

Ha'e they rackit wl' runj-m or kittled wl' steel? 

rection of 1715.J 

Or, Tammy, my man, ha'e ye seen the deU ? 

The Campbells are comlns, 0-ho, 0-ho ! 

Wha ance was your match at a stoup and a tale ? 

The Campbells are coming, 0-ho ! 

wr a voice like a sea, and a drouth like a whnle ? 

TheCampbellsare coming to bonnleLochlevenri 

Now ye peep like a powt ; ye glumph and ye p»>»nl; 


The Campbells are coming, 0-ho, O-hol ^ 

; oh. Tammy, my man, are ye turned a saunt ? 



Com*, lewM joar heMt, y iMa o' Um rnnlr; 
We l«U our dlttrea «« we look for » o«i«: 
Tbarali UA for a wtmoc, and »^ for A «lr; 
8m, Tmaaaj, tnj man, wkai vad ya ImT* mmIt > 

Oh! nartKwr, tt ntJUm wao ttni»i nar ifctoC 
Thai deepened my ce, and IkilwaMWl aqr baeT; 
Bat the word tha» auUice ma ■• waeta' aad Vfl 
Is-Tam 0* the Oallocta's a 

3irgr of SRallacr. 

aoorrua i 

4 WfeM htiMwIt ^W ikawvMfe ar aMhwriMM^i 
ifcafiii— llnlMi; 

CnioiiAo CAMraiLu] 

TnsT llihtad a Uper at Um dead ef BiiJU. 
And chaanled thdr haUeM hjmni 

And the lady «f ■Mmlla wapi for bw tart. 

Whan a dsalh-waiak b«t ta kar laMly raaa. 
Whan her eortafia had ritook of Hi ewB aeaefd« 
And the taTen hadflapp'd at her wladaw haari. 

To lall her of her warrton doom. 

Now Mnc y the Song, and iimMj fnj 

For the MMil of mj knifht ee dear; 
And eaU OM a widow Ihlo wiatehod di^. 

HInoe the wanilnctfOedie here. ^ 
For a nlshwniare ridii on mj MnMulad dee^i 

The lord of my boeom to dovm'd lo dlei 
Hto Taloroo* heart ihcj hare woaaded deep. 
And the blood-red lean »haU hto eoantry weep 

For Wallace of EldenUe. 

Tet Irnew not hto ooantry that emlMdl hear. 

Ere the loud matin bell wae rwac 
That a trumpet of death en an lagltoh lower 

Had the dtoite of her ehampian nnc. 
When hto dunseon li<ht look'd dim and r ' 

on the hi«li>born blood of a mart^ tlal ; . 
No anthem wae euof at hto holj Ueathbt^l, 
No weeping there wae when hto boeom ble<l, 

And hto heart wa» rent In twain. 

Oh ! It wae not thoa when hto oaken ^ear 

W«a true to the knight forlorn, 
Anrl host* of a thousand were Mattefd, Ilk* deer 

At the wuud of the hunteman'a horn. > 

Wm U^ IB hii lanfUo iMd. 
Bai» Meadti^ mi4 bend, «ka«|k Ikt WaUmi 

BM iha d«r af hie «toiy rfmll M 
HIi head aalnieayd ikaU wHk defy be patm^ 

TW the ravea hae M ea MeaaaMwIag bean. 
▲ MUer «v never eabalB^ 

8RaUacc*# lament. 

(W ai i i i If Tawramu, la. Iba mo ef 
**llaldte(Aneehac.-j - 

Xtoeo dait wladtaf ObifMi oMi fhMlst f» Mi^ 
' T»»eibo«eBa>dMTorglteplea0«r»«|ilB, 
Mj bmvo CUedottbuM llo low oo the lea. 
And i%| rtmM aw 4ai» tfaff^ with the bleed 
Tww baeebeawed trMebly th«% doom'd ear 

My peer tliedbig oDontry. what more can I do? 
Btaa valow looks pale «^ir the red dald of ruin. 

FkrMaO, ye dear paiiMR of peril! thMwaOl 
!•> barted ye Uo In one wtdo bloody cimTe, 

I be aaroUd wtife the • 

Bat I, a poor oatoMt. tn exile ■ 

PeilMpa. like a traitor. Ignobly moat die ! 
On thy wi«a».Om^ aoantiyl ImUgnani 1 1 

Abi veaie lhahevwh«i tkyWallaoe i 


k MoSuam ^xte. 

[Music arranged by Finlay Dun and John Thomson.] 

Oh, Rowan tree! Oh, Rowan tree! thou It aye be dear to me, 
Intwlned thou art wi' mony ties o' hame and infancy ; 
Thy leaves were aye the first o' spring, thy flow'rs the simmer's pride. 
There was nae sic a bonnie tree in a' the countrle side. 
Oh, Rowan tree. &c. 

How fair wert thou in simmer time, wl' a' thy clusters white. 
How rich and gay thy autumn dress, wi' berries red and bright, 
We sat aneath thy spreading shade, the bairnies round thee ran; 
They pu'd thy bonnie berries red, and necklaces they Strang. 
Oh, Rowan tree! &c 

On thy fair stem were mony names, which now nae mair I see. 
But they're engraren on my heart, forgot they ne'er can be! 
My mother! oU ' I see her still, she smil'd our sports to see; 
Wi' little Jeanie on her lap, wi' Jamie at her knee! 
Oh, Rowan tree ! &c. 

Oh' there arose my father's prayer, in holy evening's calm. 
How sweet was then my mother's voice, in the Martyr's psalm; 
Now a' ai-e gane ! we meet nae mair aneath the Rowan tree. 
But hallowed thoughts around thee twine o' hame and infancy. 
Oh, Rowan tree ! &c. 

^^t lEmigrai^f ^ (Complaint. 

[Words by R. Gilfillan, Composed by P. M'Leod.] 

Oh, why left I my hame ? Why did I cross the deep ? 
Oh, why left I the land where my forefathers sleep ? 
I sigh for Scotia's shore, and I gaze across the sea. 
But I canna get a blink o' my ain countrie. 

The palm-tree waveth high, and fair the myrtle springs. 
And to the Indian maid the bulbul sweetly sings ; 
But I dinna see the broom wi' its tassels on the lea. 
Nor hear the lintie's sang o' my ain countrie. 

Oh ! here no Sabbath bell awakes the Sabbath mom, 
Nor song of reapers heard among the yellow corn : 
For the tyrant's voice is here, and the wail of slaverie: 
But the sun of freedom shines in my ain countrie. 

There's a hope for every woe, and a balm for ev'ry pain, 
But the f^rst Joys of our heart come never back again. 
There's a track upon the deep, and a path across the sea. 
But the weary ne'er return to their ain countrie. 


I l^tfam'O i las. 

■■■ two ftaoMs," njPB Bomm, -t tarn- 

WlMB I WM abtmt MTVMMB. Tbtf ai« 

( tk« oMM of «7 ftlalod pam." Hmj 
raa In Jobaaott^ MwMm, ada 
a ty BHpfcwi OMlLj 


Golly In Um IDIIBJ b«Mi; 
LM'nInctothovildMvAi ' 

E|7 o tailing, etjMol MfOBS : 
Snlgkiiho ak7 Si«v UMk oad dutaf: 

Tkrcvgli tho woods Iko wkM«ln4B nr»; 

Ao ptooVd ftlr, sad pwftni^ bat a 
Of BMmy ajoj aad bopo b««ai^ im. 

A I. 

(Tbb foUowlac fracmont, to lb* tbT««lta oM 
red uine of " Jenny'* Dawbco," to all ibat bM 
oome down to as of tbo oi1(inal waf. It li glvaa 
In Uerd't eoUeoUon, 9d tdttloa, incj 

Awn a' that *'«> mj Jonny bal^ 
My Jonny had, my Jenny had: 
And a' that a^er ay Jonny had, 

There'* roar pladE, and ray plaek. 
And your plack, and my plaek. 
And my plaek, and joor plaek. 
And Jenny* bawboa. 

We'U pat it in the pint^toap. 
The plnt-*toap. the plnt-etoap. 
Well put It in the plnt-«loap. 
And blrk 't a' throe. i 


I BHt. of AadHaloek. aad aiaoll— Hy iHiiil la 
tbaoMina. U waa at^laaUy nWlibii lyifca 

" ta 

aatkor ta IMI. aad aOarwarti 
Oootia ThMMaa fcr lnwHaa la bha 
Oacidab MolodlML TWIaaaaaadM 
laibteaityeofiaiortba i 
added by iba Mtbar blaiaeif baa aat baaa aaiar* 
lalaad. Mr Akxaader wta lb* eldaat aaa aC iba 
w«U-kaa«Bblapafb*r of Dr. JabaaMi. aad waa 
batm la ITTS. Ba dM aa iba fnb Mareb.lfli, 


tta*l. a blfb-tory pap*r af Aaii^lfad astouaeaj 



Qpar ba, Ub ereai fhwd pawty eiiiH 
Ibna^bi b* was oaantac a* the dtil. 
Aad bva ibar oMa', awa le «*al 

Jfa«7^ bawbaa. 

Tb* •!«. a QiV>«te la biB mdo, 
Itonbd raoad Iba bara. aad by Iba riK4. 



A lAwyw aaM, wl* Malbarta la^ 

Wba epaaebaa wova life* any waK 

la Ilk aaera can aja laak a dab. 

And a' for a Iba. 

Aad mdaMacaVtoafaaa aa* ttalrcoold drown. 
Bat aaw b* ibaabt to tfoai bk |oaa 
Wr Joaa/a bawbea. 

A Kartaad LaM a«tol trodad op, 
wr hawnad na( aad dOcr whip, 
CMad, ** Tbcr*^ my beaat. lad, baod Iba rnip. 

Or da 't till a tree: ■ -^ 
WbaTa gowd to me> -I'r* watthlr Ian*! 
De*lew on one o' worth yoar baa' .'"— 
Ba Iboebt to pay what ba waa avtt 

wr Jenny • l*wb— , 



Drest up just like the knave o' clubs, 
A THING came neist (but life has rubs), 
Foul were the roads, and fu' the dubs, 

And jaupit a' was he. 
He danced up, squinting through a glass. 
And grinn'd, "1' faith, a bonnie lass!" 
He thought to win, wi' front o' brass, 
Jenny's bawbee. 

She bade the Laird gae kame his wig, 
The Sodger no to strut sae big, 
The Lawyer no to be a prig. 

The Fool he cried, " Tehee! 
I kenn'd that I could never fail " 
But she preen'd the dishclout to his tail, 
And soused him in the water-pail. 

And kept her bawbee. 

Then Johnnie cam', a lad o' sense. 
Although he had na mony pence , 
And took young Jenny to the spence, 

Wi' her to crack a Avee. 
Now Johnnie was a clever chiel; 
And here his suit he press 'd sae weel. 
That Jenny's heart grew saft as jeel. 

And she birled her bawbee. 


r'Tms is another set of verses to the old tune of 
* Jenny's Bawbee," and is directed to be sung 
slow. It is said to be the composition of a clergy- 
man in Galloway, and was first printed in Robert 
Chambers' collection of "Scottish Songs," Edin- 
burgh, 1827.] 

Whbn gloamin o'er the welkin steals. 
And brings the ploughman frae the flel's. 
Oh, Jenny's cot, amang the shiels. 

Is aye the hame to me. 
To meet wi' her my heart is fain. 
And parting gi'es me meikle pain; 
«A queen and throne I would disdain 

For Jenny's ae bawbee. 

Tho' braws she has na mony feck, 
Nae riches to command respec'. 
Her rosy lip and lily neck 

Mair pleasure gi'e to me. 
I see her beauties, prize them a', 
Wi' heart as pure as new-blawn snaw , 
I'd prize her cot before a ha', 

Wi' Jenny's ae bawbee. 

Nae daisy, wi' its lovely form, 
Nor dew-drap shiniug frae the com. 
Nor echo frae the distant horn, 

Is half sae sweet to me ! 
And if the lassie were my aln, 
For her I'd toil through wind and rain 
And gowd and siller I would gain 

WI' Jenny's ae bawbee. 

[In the Tea-Table Miscellany, Ramsay has a 
song "to the tune of Tibbie Fowler in the Glen," 
which proves that the air, at least, is old. A 
fragment of the words is given in Herd's collection 
of 1776, but the first complete copy appeared in 
the 5th vol. of Johnson s Museum. The author- 
ship has been ascribed to a " Rev. Dr. Strachan, 
late minister of Camwath;" but David Laing 
says that there has been no minister of Camwath 
of that name for at least the last three hundred 

TiBurK Fowi.FR o' the Glen, 

There's ower mony wooing at her; 
Tibbie Fowler o' the Glen, 
There's dwer mony wooing at her. 
Wooln' at her, pu'ln' at her, 

Courtin' her, and canna get her; 
Filthy elf, it's for her pelf 
That a' the lads are wooin' at her. 

Ten cam' east, and ten cam' west; 

Ten cam' rowin' ower the water ; 
Twa cam' down the lang dyke-side : 

There's twa-and- thirty wooln' at her. 

Tliere'8 seven but, and seven ben, 

Seven in the pantry wi" her; 
Twenty head about the door : 

There's ane-and-forty wooln' at her! 

She's got pendlea In her lugs ; 

Cockle-shells wad set her better ! 
High-heel'd shoon, and siller tajre. 

And a' the lads are wooln' at her. 

Be a lassie e'er sae black, 

Gin she ha'e the name o' siller, 
Set her up on Tlntock tap, 
} The wind will bl»w a man tUl hn. 



Aar ito vaM tlM p«iB7 iiUcr, 
▲ tie flMj flril kw te tk* air. 


[Tmi fotlowtas U Ram<at'* wax (o tte t«M 
or "Tibbie Fawler o' the Glen.' ii rmmMm 
the auae aatboft vvnlon of « BMtf BaO •»< 
Mary Orar." In Ika poai alliiwlBt to ba la a 
dUanuaa as to wMdi of tvo b oaa ilM ka AmU 
ehooao. BaiBaay'« Ion p— !«■ wiwatakatra far» 
taken maali of CMalB MaatMMik'a Mbml i^la or 

- Hew kappy ooaM I ba vllk dtk«r J 

Tiaar kaa a «of« o' dMHM, 

Her gcB^ •bap* oar teacgr varaa: 

How Manialj eaa bar oaa' whlia arat 

Fetter tka lad wbo look! bai at bar. 
lYa'ar aade lo ber itakder waM, 

Tbcaa aveau caooMl'd Invtte la davt b»n 
Her rav flkeak, and iMac bcaaM, 

Car aneli ■iiiaik jank kawifkf a' waNr. 

V*aj% fftwqr. ttft, and w. 
Frruk as Ike laekea tovvn la Mar. 
Uk ase ikai aaaa ker, flrtea. Ak key. 

Sbe'tbaaayl O I vaader as k«. 
Tke dlnplea or kw eUa aad akeak. 

And ttaba aaiinv taTlM la davt ken 
Her II90 na •wae^ aad ikla MO deak. 

a^iiUf eata^tic. 


bf Bvaaa Ibr iabaaoaH Maaaaa^ 

»aaBaaeallod'*Tkamikft Maa e( 

II h aka flfaa la Tkiama^ aallta 

aaaa ar ** TlkMa r«wl« af Ito Otaa.**J 

Witxta Witfrta d««li aa ^aii. 



Tb« oai kaa twa Ike very ■alea r ; 
i \** laUr >*<*k ibtkya a <awp, 

A elappv tncaa and deava a atller : 

■ka> bia kia^>*, *a% bala<Alaid. 

Ae Ifaapla' leg a kaad-kraed Aoftori 
BkeTe tvlMad rigki. AoTa ivtrtad leA, 
^ TO balaa« iHir ea Oka ^aarart 

Now 11100 niyfl 
Mj wyaon wltb I 
Gin I can leU wbUk I am for, 
Wben tbcae iwe nan appear •"niHiw 

lore ! wby dote tkoa gi'e tkj trm 

See larfe. vkUe waYa ekUTd to aekkcr > 
Oar fpaetoofl Mola iBnacaaa darifaa. 
And aije be in a baakerta' swiiker. 

Tibby'i tbape and ain are ftne. 
And Nellj'a bcMiUca are dlvlaet 
Bat ilnoe ikey oaana baltk be adaa. 

Ye gode, give ear lo my peUUon: 
ProTldo a good lad Cor Ike laaa, 

Bai lei U be wttk ikto prarMoa. 

1 gel Ike otiMr 10 my laar. 
In I 

Ika iwla er tkai avaa kv ri 


Dag Wma^ wfli to aaa M (rfc 

Her Caee wad f>le Ika I 

fiKji ain Drai iC8iit. 

[Waa»« by T. Bmaaar. Mwie by Mr. MkHtalL) 

O Bomna are Ike kowa, ..^ 

Aad MBay are Ike kaewaa - 4 

TkatfMikekyaaadyawa, 4 * 

Wketa «y UM Mm dmiM: 



And brightly glanced the rills, 
Tti&i spring amang the hills, 
And ca' the merrle mills 
In my ain dear land. 
O bonnie are the hows, &c. 

But now I canna see 
The lammies on the lea, 
Nor hear the heather bee 

On this far, far strand: 
I see nae father's ha". 
Nor burnie's water-fa', 
But wander far awa' 

Frae my ain dear land. 
O bonnie are the hows, &c. 

But blythely will I bide, 
Whate'er may yet betide. 
When ane is by my side 

On this far, far strand. 
My Jean will soon be here, 
ily waefu' heart to cheer. 
And dry the fa'ing tear 

For our ain dear land. 
O bonnie are the hows, &c. 

[First published in the Edinburgh Literary 
Gazette. Set to music by E. A. Smith.] 

Oh ! these are not my country's hills. 

Though they look bright and fair ; 
Though flowers deck their verdant sides. 

The heather blooms not there. 
Let me behold the mountains steep. 

And wild deer roaming free. 
The heathy glen, the ravine deep: 

Oh, Scotland's hills for me! 

The rose through all this garden land, 

May shed its rich perfume; 
But I would rather wander 'mong 

My country's bonnie broom. 
There sings the shepherd on the hill. 

The ploughman on the lea 
There lives my blythesome mountain maid: 

Oh, Scotland's hills for me ! 

In southern climes the radiant sun 

A brighter light displays; 
But I love best his milder beams 

That shine on Scotland's braes. 

Then, dear romantic native land. 
If e'er I roam from thee, 

111 ne'er forget the cheering lay. 
Oh, Scotland's bUla for mel 

[Writtkw, according to Mr. Peter Baehso, by 
Ai.Ex. Watsox, merchant tailor in Aberdeen, 
and at one time deacon of the incorporated trmdcf 
there. It was composed sometime during the 
American war of independence.] 

■Whkn our ancient forefathers agreed wl' the laird, 
For a spot o' good ground for to be a kail-yard, 
It was to the brose that they had the re^d: 

O! the kail brose of auld Scotland; 

And O ! for the Scottish kail broee. 

When Fergus, the first of our kings, I suppoee. 
At the head of his nobles had vanquished his foes. 
Before they began they had dined upon broee. 
O ! the kail brose, &c 

Then our sodgers were drest in their kiltc and 

short hose, tpoee. 

With bonnet and belt which their drew did com- 

With abag of oatmeal on their back to make broee. 

0! the kail brose, &c. 

In our free early ages a Scotsman could dine 
Without English roast beef, or fiuuous French 

Kail brose, if weel made, he always thought fine. 
O! the kail brose, &c. 

At our annual election of bailies or mayor, 

Nae kickshaws or puddings or tartt were seen 

A dish of kail brose was the favourite fare. 
O : the kail broee, &c 

It has been our favourite dish all alon/t. 
It our ladies makes beauties, our gentlemen strong. 
When moderately used, it our life does prolong. 
O! the kail brose, &c. 

While thus we can live, wedread no kind of fo««- 
Rhould any invade us, we'll twist up their n ose. 
And soon make them feel the true Tirtue of tares*. 
} O! the kail brose, &c 


JnToivtac cor flooaiiy ta BUBb«l«i VMi, 
WkM a UtHlBC U It tkmr* 7t« BUM opoB broMl 
O! tk«kaUlmiM.a(e. 

BM aj* ilMt th« ikMto VM J«la«d to ikt f«M, 

And tiM P«M ta A VMllO fH ptaHf «r ikMlk 

O! th« kaU bfOM «r MM SaMkad} 
Aad O forikc SeoMUi kaU tRM. 

Vroal^tDOil)^ of ^cotlauli 

"Ok,ito UmuBmt 9t 
pabHdMd la IMS, la 6«oi«i 11 
Uoo. aad IMN laMMd ly ifMlal 

2f owikml pcMS Miito Aon, a0v Umn^ Mlm 

rm aglMla llMlMrMi wtoMfMfdikaHw ftM. 
BIgkl aiiawaiali «r WaUaes, MoainH, aad 

Ok. tkt bna4m*ii cf aMaoMlaad! 

▲ad ok. ika aii flooilMi tNtttafwdi J 

Old ar Fal] 



aalMd la ilM7» M kladtvd la c 
Vir Iko vriraao k kfMk« la Hood 10 Mi s 

^ong of Sfat{). 

riir a Mior to Mia. Daalo^ ink 1 
BuaaoMfi: '■IkafOJBM r 


or HTonlMMta 


Thoogk ko diod Boi Uko Mm aaUd TMoty*! nar. 


Hoc Iko IM wo mMBbcr Iko iplitt of Mooio. 
Ok.ikob - ' 

Tea. a pUoe vliktko MloB IkollTlaf iMOl daloi, 
Well entvlno la ooo wioatk trmj glodoa* nimt. 
Tbo Gordon, tko H i w j, Um Bopo, aad Um 
▲U iko teoadnrofd^ &«. 

aor ■pilnp atma, a toM af kawli 

doy.oToalat- iko wi aa i<< aad JjtH* 

•o >ola la iko M^. Tko 


MaodoaaM^ oollMllia of B%ktead 

■melt vltfi oao, aa Ulo of flKjo laao. 

•Milo^OTlkoaoacor D«ak,lolko 


la kkwllt<lloa,do»ao> givotko 
MM Iko woidt to Iko M* Mao or «• Mr 
oalkoooM ronBd.** Tko ortflaal laao h glToa 

Fabowcu, tkoa Ikir dnj, Ikoa grwa ^ 
Mv w vttk tko kftikft MCttBf faa ! 

Tkoa 0te KlM «r «M«n.llMa ll«% 

Go ftliMia Iko oovaadaad iMto i 
Oo taadi Ikoa to ItmbMo, Ml tjront ! 
, 2feictToakMlikeatotktfenvo. 



Tliou strik'st the dull peasant, he sinks in the dark, ^ 

Nor saves ev'n the WTeck 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 

Our king and our country to save; 
While victory shines on life's last ebljing sands, 

O, who would not die with the brave. 

nm 1 uh'^h* 

[Words by Loru Btron. Music bv J. P. 

When I rov'd a young Highlander o'er the dark 
And climb'd thy dark summit, O Morven, of 
To gaze on the torrent that slumber'd beneath. 

Or the mist of the tempest that gather'd below , 
Untutor'd by science, a stranger to fear. 

And rude as the rocks where my infancy grew. 
No feeling, save one, to my bosom was dear- 
Need I say, my sweet Mary, 'twas center'd in 

I arose with the dawn, with my dog as my guide. 

From mountain to mountain I bounded along; 
I breasted the billows of Dee's rushing tide. 

And heard at a distance the Highlander's 
At eve, on my heath-cover'd couch of repose. 

No dreams, save of Mary, were spread to my 
And wftrm to the skies my devotions arose, 

For the first of my prayers was a blessing on you. 

Yet the day may arrive, when the mountains once 
Shall rise to my sight in their mantles of snow; 
But while these soar above me, unchang'd as 
Will Mary be there to receive me ? ah no! 
Adieu! then, ye hills, where my childhood was 
Thou sweet flowing Dee, to thy waters adieu ! 
No home in the forest shall shelter my head, - 
Ah, Mary ! what home could be mine without 
you? i 

bt i&ri^e cam' out o'tl)f bgte. 

[The author of this song, to the tan« of '• WooM 
and married and a'," Is unknown. It appe»n In 
i Herd's collection of 1776, but la of much olOm 
' date.] 

The bride cam out <r the byre, 

And, O, as she dlghted her cheeks ! 
Sirs, I'm to be married the night. 

And have neither blankets nor sheets; 
Have neither blankets nor sheets. 

Nor scarce a coverlet too; 
The bride that has a' thing to borrow. 
Has e'en right muckle ado. 
Woo'd and married, and a'. 

Married, and woo'd, and a' ! 
And was she nae veiy weel off. 
That was woo'd, and married and a' 7 

Out spake the bride's father. 

As he cam' in frae the pleugb, 
0, baud your ton{:ue, my dochter. 

And ye'se get gear eneugh ; 
The stirk stands i' th' tether. 

And our bra" bawsint yade. 
Will carry ye hame your corn— 

What wad ye be at, ye Jade ? 

Out spake the bride's mither. 

What deil needs a' this pride ? 
I had nae a plack In my pouch 

That night I was a bride; 
My gown was linsy-woolsy. 

And ne'er a sark ava ; 
And ye ha'e ribbons and buskins, 

Mae than ane or twa. 

What's the matter, qno' WilHo; 

Though we be scant o' clae». 
We'll creep the closer thegither. 

And we'll smoor a' the fleas : 
Simmer is coming on. 

And we'll get taits o' woo ; 
And we'll get a lass o' our ain. 

And she'll spin claiths anew. 

Out spake the bride's brither. 

As he came in wi' the kye 
Poor Willie wad ne'er ha'e ta'sn je. 

Had he kent ye as weel as I ; 


WOOfTTUia mMQ», 

For yarn tatth proad and mmj. 

I'M mlW tak* am 1* my U*. 


A» alM eanw In frac tte bgn; 
O^ I wen bat nuuvtod, 

Bat m poor fclli nuum Bn itaflt^ 

And do tbt ba« that mean: 
I dlBna can wkat I Am'4 wmM 


®i)f grafHi |)aD nae frecl^osu 

< i n* tntnttlAt fait WM tar ■ 

[Wairmt by Mac Boott of Doabi 
to tb* taaa flf " Woo^ and annlad an 

W !>!•.] 

Ta« gnn bad OM flmdoHi «^ frotrte* 

Hot la tlM tooa «oaU tiMn W itowta' 
For wooan tlwt waatid to oa'. 

Slio bowta' and ■hakta' a pavi 
Th«toaa«w«ir«nrtok ' 

Tha dandaUt tDMt or tiw parM. 
Shan wooad, aad dbaM carrtod awa*. 

Hat had ha a' kniaM har n I dVd. 
ma wooln' It wad iM^ baaa ama' 


Bm aam wad wnr oat o* 

And katt ap Imt hau» 

Bat yartodiV 1 faed to an bar. 
And, O, aha WM booBla aMl bnw : 

8ha ertad on bar gadaoiaa to gl** her 
An an o» nd ribboo or twa. 

Ha took, and ha aat down barida her 
A whaal and a reel tir to ea'; 


And at tt fbr anr to aa' ? 

And «*• to haart raal^d ly a 
Thart om^ ant« to «Mi 

Than« ba Ittb to pal ha lia «M^ 

OiTiabaMb ' 

■m lai«^ ya ha% yoodMt and vlfoar. 

Otalnyai tab 

80 than an aaawar ftr a*. 

9i)f em ^fUi^. 

{T— h—wiii<»lr,toth>la— of "Woo-d 

yiyayoanf p iobadoi 
or WMrtiiKl. a aailTa «r Ajnhtoa. aflarwaida 
- nlalMrorntf 

Ova Otny waa now thMgr-ds, 
Thoofh anna nttar nahr dM har aa*. 

And am qoMa «• aoM to tM nanrtad. 
Haa Uttia or am ihanw mm. 

And Oli^, aft lltfahinf ea thia. 

M cried, Woa he that way to gukk brr ? 
And out at the door and awm*. m 

Oil. li K not awfii* to thhik 
I uMgr not be marrlad ava ! 


No to be married ava, vft Now, lads, if there'i ony anumx w. 

No to be married ava ; 

Wad like just upon me to ca'. 

Oh, is it not awfti' to tiiink. 

YeU find me no ill to be courted. 

I may not be married ava ! 

For shyness I ha'e thrown't awa*. 
And if ye should want a bit wifie, 

For ilka young lass that can brag 

Ye ken to what quarter to draw ; 

Of her ha'eing a lover or tvi'a. 

And e'en should we no mak' a bargain, 

Will hand out her finger and say. 

Ye'U at least get a kissie or twa. 

That body has got nane ava. 

No to be married, &c. 

And then when they a' get married. 

While they laugh at auld maids like mysell. 

For no getting ony ava. 

No to be married, &c. 

Donald #ilac^ottalD. 

Some wives that are wasters o' men. 

Wear dune naething less than their twa; 

[This was one of the earlle«t •ong* which JAtt u 

But this I wad haud as a crime. 

That ought to be punished by law. 

1803, to the tunc of "Woo'd and married and a'," 

For are they no muckle to blame. 

and was long very popuLor. " I once heard th*- 

When thus to themsells they tak' a' ? 

song," says the author, "sung in the theatre hi 

Ne'er thinking o' mony an auld maid. 

Lancaster, when the singer substituted the fol- 

That's no to be married ava. 

lowing lines of his own for the last verse -.— 

No to be married, &c. 

* For Jock Bull he is good in a hurry. 

But as for the men that get wives— 

An' Sawney is steel to the bane. 

E'en though it were some ayont twa. 

An* wee David Welsh is a widdy. 

1 think they should aye be respeckit 

An' Paddy will hurkle to nane ; 

For helping sae mony awa'. 

They'U a' prove baith sturdy and loyal. 

But as for the auld bach 'lor bodies. 

Their necks every ane 1 could thraw. 

For what is the use of their lives. 

tJhall ne'er be the last in the fray." fee. 

Gin no to be married ava ? 

No to be married, &c. 

It took exceedingly well, and wa» three timet 
encored, and there was 1 sitting In the gallery. 

Oh, gin I could get but a husband. 

applauding as much as any body. My vanity 

E'en though he were never sae sma'. 

Just gi'e me a husband, I'll tak' him. 

turer that night that I was the author of the 

Though scarce like a mannie ava. 

Come soutor, come tailor, come tinkler. 

and told the landlady that he took me fur a half- 

Oh come ony ane o' ye a' ! 

crazed-Scots pedlar."] 

Come gi'e me a bode e'er sae little. 

I'll tak' it and never sae na'. 

My name it is Donald Macdonald— 

No to be married, &c. 

I live in the Highlands sae grand ; 
I've follow'd my banner, and will do. 

Come deaf, or come dumb, or come cripple. 

Wherever my Maker baa land. 

Wi' ae leg, or nae legs ava. 

When rankit amang the blue bonnets. 

Or come ye wi' ae e'e, or nae e'e. 

Nae danger can ffcar me ava ; 

I'll tak' ye as ready's wi' twa. 

I ken that my brethren around ma 

Come young, or come auld, or come doited. 

Are either to conquer or la*. 

Oh come and just tak' me awa' ; 

Brogues, and brochan, and a', 

Far better be married to something, 

Than no to be married ava. 

And is na the laddie weel aff 

No to be married, &c. ; 

Wha has broguea,and brochan,at»d «^ 


■oomsu soNoa. 

Onr fMMdi Mid oar eovatnr to M« 

Worn nMt Um bjr knd or bgr MO. 
Whmvor A doB b dUoyol, 

Whtrovor oar Hat boo o fco, 
BvH qukUf Mt Donald MoedoaoM, 
Wl* hki Blckkadon o* IB o low. 
Oana, and plitoli. Mid m\ 

PMob, Mid goM, and o' I 
Bo'il qolckljr wo Donald Maedooald. 
Wl' goBO, and piatoh, and a*. 

Whai tboogh wo MkooDdH yooBC OMwtta ? 

To taD It I dhuM think iteoMi 
PuIrM! hoean'toMtaltefolF. 


Bat I 


Tho iHvt or Uw BmI 10 lolBtei 
Won non kn<o to I 


H» Kf naj dopon d on 

Wl' hh nigWandinoB all la a 

Kmoo, and olbowo, and a*, 

Klbowo, and kaoH, and i 

if Ronapart* land at Fort-WnUam, 

Attld Earopenaalanffcrahangruw: 
I laogb when I think bow woU (an him 

Wf boOot, wl' stMl. and wl* otano: 
Wl* roda o' tho Kfiit and Oorax 

W«11 rmttk blm affftaooorohore. 
Or lull him aaloop In a ealmie, 
And ling hbn Loekmber no mont 
StaoM. and bollrti, and a*. 

Bulkti, and •tann, and a' : 
Well flnidi tho Conloan calUn 
Wl' ttanM, and boUeto, and •• 

Tho Gordon la gndo la a haiiji 
And Ctanpbril li •iHl to tho taM . 

Tho Staart b ttaodj and waaaal I 

▲ad MO li MaolMd aad Marii^i 
Aad I, thdr fadi toUhw, MaadoaaM. 
flail ao«or bo hM» to tho tay. 
Pi of a M> aad broohaa, aad a*» 

Bnohaa, aad hNcaM^ aad a' I 
Aad ap wl* tho boMdo btai boaaot. 

rWaimabyTaoxAo SataaaT totiw oMm( 
arthoakofDaadoo^-aolbaad to tho Aoat 

Faaa IkM wool, Ihoa boa ah ilvor, 

All to AiVO laao If fcr ooor. 

T^, ^loa I adfaa, DaadM t 

Oa thy waoM a fliht b ibia*. 

Saddy 00 tho looo to Jaooi 

■ooM najr trow H b tho dawto' 

Bat I h» thoattoaly bbMhli^ 
TtoH aaaU w Mm caaM bot 

Lfbo ttqr ipftafi my Mara aio fail 
1hy» adba i adba, DaadM I 

tBoaaar Waira of Vowoartto— Bon prtefd 

Tot tbo boanb Bodtodtb bMto 




Kow bright is summer's beauty ! 

When, Biiiilin' for an' near. 
The wildest spots o' nature 

Their gayest livery wear : 
And yellow-cups, an* daisies 

Are spread on ilka lea ; 
But the bonnie Redesdale lassie 

Mair charming is to me. 

O ! sweet is mellow autumn ! 

When, wide owre a' the plain. 
Slow waves in rustlin' motion 

The heavy-headed grain ; 
Or in the sunshine glancin'. 

And rowin' like the sea; 
Yet the bonnie Redesdale lassie 

Is dearer far to me J 

As heaven itsel', her bosom 

Is free o' fi-aud or guile ; 
What hope o* future pleasure 

Is centred in her smile ! 
I wadna lose for kingdoms 

The love-glance o' her e'e ; — 
! the bonnie Redesdale lassie 

Is life and a' to me ! 


[Composed by the Ettrick Shephfrd, to the 
tune of " Blue Bonnets over the Border." He 
aimself says, it was " the most popular love song 
he ever wrote," but we think he is here mis- 

O ! MY lassie, our joy to complete again, 

Meet me again in the gloamin', my dearie ; 
Low down i' the dell let us meet again, 

! Jeanie, there's naething to fear ye. 
Come when the wee bat flits silent an eerie; 
Come when the pale Cice o' nature looks weary. 
Love be thy sure defence. 
Beauty and innocence — 
() ! Jeanie, there's naething to fear ye. 

Hweetly blows the haw and the rowan-tree, 
Wild roses speck our thicket sae breerie ; 

fitill, still will our bed in the greenwood be — 
O . Jeanie, there's naething to fear ye: .-Jft 

Note when tha blackbird o' ringing ktowi wear;. 
List when the beetle bee's bugle oontc* near ye i 
Then come with fidry haste. 
Light foot and beating brea«t — 
O ! Jeanie, there's naething to fear ye. 

Far, tax will the bogle an' brownie be ; 

Beauty an' truth, they daurna come near it. 
Kind love is the tie of our unity; 

A' maun love it, and a' maun revere it. 
Love inak's the sang o' the woodland aae cheerie 
Love gars a' nature look bonnie that's near ye, 
Love niak's the rose sae sweet. 
Cowslip au' violet — 
! Jeanie, there's naetliing to fear ye. 

[Written by Joan:«a Baillik, and printed, 
though probably not for the first time, in t4te 
Harp of Caledonia, vol. II. published at GIa*(:ow 
in 1818.J 

Thk gowan glitters on the sward. 

The lav'KX'k 's in the sky. 
And CoUey on my plaid keep* ward. 

And time is passing bye. 
Oh, no .' sad an' slow! 

I hear nae welcome sound ; 
Th.' shadow of our trysUn" bush, 

I I wears sae slowly round ! 

My sheep-bell tinkles tne the west. 

My lambe are bleating near, 
But still the sound that I lo'e best. 

Alack! I canna hear. 

Oh, no ! sad an' slow ! 

The shadow lingers still ; 
And like a lanely ghaist I stand, 

And croon upon the hill. 

1 hear below the water roar. 

The mill wl' clackin* din ; 
And Lucky scolding tne her door. 

To bring the Imlmics in. 
Oh, no! sud an' slow! 

These are n»e sounds for me ; 
The shadow of our trj-stln' bush. 

It creeps uie drearily. 

I •oil yliMB thm iJMipinan Tkoi. 



Oh,ao! Mdaa'ilafW! 

n* ttaM It WlBIM pMi , 

TiM dMdow of tluu wMfy tlMrn 

O now I MM hw «B tfM wagTf 
Slk^t PMC tta* wHolMa' kaow* t 

DM^ dfanbia* vp th* btowMC^ bcB^~ 
Oh,noi *tiaa*»! 



Th*- • 
wm mov* BM BMdr tOI tfrnk. 

My book o' irnkr* I ni try to rMHl, 

Thoofh connM w1' little aklll t 
Wbm Collcy l»rka 111 rak* ny lm4, 


TIm ttaiM will nf'm b* fMW i 
n* thdMlow or Um trjfMfai' bwk 

bird lite oojrMMMb 

9.tiq^'» flittiu*. 

[Tan Utpt f pathvcl* MOf wm « 
Wtt.u«M T n nil ITT, fw HMiiij y«an 


to Um tmm^t-Tma^ O'BiArtr.*'] 

TwA* when tiM waa teal 

That Laer ivwVl op hw ww Mat wf hw a* ten. 

And Mt ter aald HMlteCT aad nMboufSMt tfaart 
For Loey ted mmd la tte gira a' tte i 

Sort that 


r tte ttabk when 

Bteht Mir waa Uiklnd teart, tte flittla' toMi 

Fki* y wmI, LwOMpM* Jam!*, and tan la; 

Tte gattefia* tidVtriokkd Aim era* hii t>. 


8te gaad hj tte ttabk whcrt Jamlt wa«ttaaafai*i 

A« down tte hon-dd* dM caHl alow wl* tte mtUa*. 

F)u«fB wmI, Laogrl was Ote blidii aaac t 
Ete teard tte erawMjlBt, hlghon tte ti«e rfttin'. 

A n«l rubin waa efalrptn t tte brown leant amang. 

Oh. what k*t tte» pMi ay P^ baart IB a tettfr^ 
And what fBialte«an«MM aa «Nllaav«» 

If I wMBa aMlid ta te ai7 teClv. 
Than «ha»^ M wWi aaf te«w to te ? 

I'm JwtHte a iHMBia tha* taM llr^rillMri 

I ftar I te> ttet ar piHr teart attegllter. 
Kaa wondar tte tMB ftk* aa bat ftaa «r a^ 

Wl' ttenatoraqrdMal te> nm-d op tte ffbtea. 

Tte boaala Mas ilbhaa that Jania fa^a MMi 
Toatraan. wtett te faM b>% and aw I waa 

t hat Fhat ya w«rl. 

Ill acvar Ibtyrt tte 1 
ThM^ aowtealdi 

It aata aa 1 ailUia iiiaM ipa>, tear, aoraw i 
Sa aoald naa agr aalr hat jnal, fhia y waa). 
Tat Ikaft I wn afaid mi tte itey that I daa. 



M ate wad aaar bmOt 


A«« waal a^ te paat a« tte kai* a* tte bara I 


tain 8Kfl)lltrb«nu 

tTaia ttiwIlBg dk^ waa at ana tfaa any 

at Falklrfc la 1788^) 



** Want not i^aiaat tte hiw. 
X wad tak* har to ay ate ted. 
And lay ter nriat tte wa*.** 

Kind air, now, Ifyva ptaMa: 



The supper bell it will be rung. 

And I'll be missed awa' ; 
Sae I winna lie in your l)ed. 

Either at stock or wa'." 

He says, " My pretty lady, 

I pray, lend me your hand. 
And ye'll ha'e drums and trumpets 

Always at your command ; 
A.nd fifty men to guard you with. 

That well their swords can draw ; 
Sae we'se baith lie in ae bed. 

And ye'se lie neist the wa'." 

" Haud awa' frae me," she said, 

"And pray let gae my hand : 
The supper bell it will be rung , 

I can nae langer stand ; « 

My father he will angry'be. 

Gin I be missed awa'; 
Sae I'll nae lie in your bed. 

Either at stock or wa'." 

Then said the pretty lady, 

" I pray tell me your name ?'* 
" My name is Captain Wedderbuni, 

A servant to the king. 
Though thy father and his men were here, 

O' them I'd have nae awe; 
But wad tak' you to my ain bed, 

■Vnd lay you neist tlie wa'." 

He licbtit affhis milk-white steed. 

And set this lady on ; 
And, a' the way he walked on foot. 

He held her by the haud. 
He held her by the middle jimp. 

For fear that she should fa'. 
To tak' her to his ain bed, 

And lay her neist the wa'. 

He took her to his lodging-house ; 

His landlady looked ben ; 
Bays, " Mony a pretty lady 

In Edinbruch I've seen ; 
But sic a lovely face as thine 

In it I never saw, 
Gae mak' her down a (}own-bed, 

And lay her at the wa'." 

*• O haud away frae me," she says ; 

" I pray you let me be ; 
I winna gang to your bed, 

Till ye dress me dishes three 

Pishes three ye maun dreM vat. 

Gin 1 should eat them a'. 
Afore that I lie in your bed. 

Either at stock or wa*. 

It's ye maun get to my supper 

A cherry without a stane ; 
And ye maun get to my supper 

A chicken without a bane ; 
And ye maun get to my supper 

A bird without a ga' ; 
Or I winna lie in your bed. 

Either at stock or wa'." 

" It's when the cherry is in the blume, 

I'm sure it has nae stane ; 
And when the chicken's in the egg, 

I wat it has nae bane ; 
And, sin' the flood o' Noah, 

The doo she had nae ga' ; 
Sae we'll baith lie in ae bed. 

And ye'se lie neist the wa'." 

*' O haud your tongue, young man," she tkjt, 

" Nor that gate me perplex ; 
For ye maun tell me questions yet. 

And that is questions six ; 
Questions six ye'll tell to me. 

And that is three tiroes tw«. 
Afore I lie in your bed. 

Either at stock or wa'. 

What's greener than the greenest gnm ? 

What's hicher than the trees? 
AV bat's waur nor an ill woman's wish f 

What's deeper than the seas ? 
TV hat bird sings first ? and whereupon 

First doth the dew down la' ? 
Ye sail tell afore I lay me doun. 

Either at stock or wa'." 

" Vergris is greener than the grass ; 

Heaven's hicJier than the trees ; 
The dell's waur not a woman's wi»h ; 

Hell's deeper than the seas ; 
T%e cock crows first ; on cedar tap 

The dew down first doth Ik' ; 
Sae we'll baith lie in ae bed. 

And ye'se lie neist tlM wa'." 

" O haud your tongue, young man," she •ys, 

"And gl'e your fleechin' ower ; 
Unless ye find me ferlies. 
And that is ferllos fourj 


FwnM KNff yt iBwn and tntf 
And that is twa and twn : 

Or 111 ne««r U« in your bed. 
Either at •totik or wa*. 

It** ft tnaan get to me a ptaa 
That in Deeember grew ; 

And y naan get a allk maatrf. 
That waft WM ne^ytf C 

A epaiion'e hen { a prieM ■■nra* 
Tliie night to join oa t«mi 

Or m nae lie In fowr bed. 

My motfMT haa a* Isdhui fomn. 
That waft «M MW aaM tlWMf<> I 
* alia 


It Oh 

And twm arw the aeh 9^ ktaRi 
Aod ]f« ■ten flM ihai tt>. 

The prim, h«^g 




8ae well lerfth Be la w tal. 
And y«rn He MM Mm «»•." 

• tl'teaawMlelH 

l^rMb If that her ttppanjr chMwe in 1 
W« tak* a rrfe Mw art, aai eat ■ 

I thialt,abl]rthcrtwa( 
▲ad they baith !le la ae bed, 

f'Tiira,'* mj* Burnt, "te perhaps tl* flnt 
tottle-soog that erer was eompaeed." Itappiws 
b RamMy's Tca-ThW* Misas|laay, whera U is 
cnarlwd as an (dd so^] 

Wrbx I ha'e a saxpenee and* ay thoom. 
Then I get credit in ilka tooai 
Uut, aye when I'm pair they bU me (aag by, 
Ohtporertarpartsgndeoompaitjl ^ 

r a^ I Iqr «•«■ t* *•»» 

Airf •!• whea w« wahMM ere «miih than dnr. 
What thlakyao^mjr wee kkBflMraad I? 

■ e^ve iiyv He gade^kaaiuar^ waea waella* yuw 

So^Ur' )(tme. 

HowswWp— rdtheaiialnaathnawofaeMghti 
The p iper f h <f < liiiii^, thawMle hara^ bright; 
▲ad Uak^ hi aif haad «aa«M maldea ae dear, 
▲a she teiii «M tear hi iMr hoBdiV fMr- 

Woe b me, and oaa H th«a he. 

_ I 

We aMt «l the idr, wa «H at the Idrlc, 

We mrt hi the saaiWM^ aad met hi the mbh: 

Aad «ba Maadi of h« voiee, aad the bUniu of 


lag aad Bft «f aqr h 


At bridal and infare I've braced me wi* pride ; 

The hrtue I ha'e won, and a kiss o' the biide ; 

And loud was the laughter gay fellows among, 

When 1 utter'd my banter and chorus'd my song. 
Bowie to dree are jesting and glee, 
"When poverty parts gude conipanie. 

Wherever I gaed the biythe lasses smiled sweet, 
And mithers and aunties were niair than discreet. 
While liebljuck and bicker were set on the board; 
l>ut now they pass by me, and never a word. 

So let it be, for tiie worldly and slie 

W'i' poverty keep nae companie. 

"^fiz ^©tum^. 

[Writtkn and sung to the tuife of " Todlin' 
Hame," by Archibald Cochrane, a well-known 
eccentric character in Glasgow, who died some 
years, back. The song is supposed to be the ditty 
of a road-mender, and honest John's antipathy 
to steam -boats may be accounted for from the 
fact, that when they were introduced on the 
Clyde, many of the roads to the western coast 
became deserted, and the road-maker's avocation, 
of course, either altogether or partially dispensed 
with in these localities.] 

Contented wi' Maggie, how biythe ha'e I been. 
This seventeen towmonds we've met aye at e'en ; 
Though whiles we fa' out, yet we quickly agree, 
A kiss turns the difference 'tween Maggie and me. 
Though steam-boats are against us we maunna 

For our twa bits o' totums are todlin' their lane. 

Nae bills I've to pay, nor nae heart-racking fyke. 
But to cairney up stancs, at the side of the dyke ; 
I'm pleased to see them break, and the vivid 

sparks fly. 
But gloom at the steam -boats as they're passing by. 
But tho* they're against me I maunna compkiin. 
For my twa bits o' totums are todlin' their lane. 

So I'll sing " Captain Glen," wi' a heart fu' o' glee, 
A nd be join'd by tlie mavis that sings on yon tree ; 
It warbles sae sweet, makes my hammer stand still, 
A' join in the tune, e'en the wee wimpling rill. 
Steam-boats may afflict me, but I'll ne'er com- 
For my twa bits o' totums are todlin' tiieir lan«. -j 


i So sang honest John, na be ipUnter'd a ■tam. 
Till twa bairns wi' bis breakfast cam' todlin' their 

They cam' todlin' their lane, arms round itbsr s* 

And the twa bits o* totums cam' todlin' their Ian* 
They cam' todlin' their lane, arms round ither so 

And the twa bits o' totums cam' todlin' tbdr lao*. 

" Hey, daddy dear, here's your parritcb quite liet, 
Mam struck Jock wi' the spurtle for scarting the 

" Whisht, baimie," says he, and bis bonnet be 

Look'd up to the sky, while the Giver he praised : 
Leaves a soup to the dog, hands the cog back 

And the twa bits o' totums gaed todlin' hame. 

The sun it looks biythe, o'er Coirlick sae hie, 
I'll meet my ain wife, wi' the smile in her e'e ; 
She'll ha'e Jean at her fit, and Tarn in her lap. 
And she'll toddle to meet me, when I'm at tb« 

Collie's bark welcomes me to a clean hearth stane. 
Where my twa bits o' totums gsvng todlin their 


[A PRODUCTiow of Dr. Ai.kxa.xdkr Gkddps. 
The Lewis Gordon alluded to was third son to tfa« 
duke of Gordon. He declared for prince Charles on 
the rising in 1745, and was afterwards attainted, 
but escaped to France, where he died in 17iM.J 

O 9KND Lewie Gordon hame. 
And the lad I diiurna name ; 
Though his back be at the wa'. 
Here's to him that's ha awa' ! 

Ochon, my HighlandmanI 

O my bonnie Highlandman ! 

Weel would I my true love ken, 

Amang ten thousand Uiglilandmen. 

O ! to see his tartan trews. 
Bonnet blue, and laigh-heel'd shoM. 
Philabcg .\boon his knee ! 
That's the lad that I'll gang »i*. 
Ochon, &c. 


Thb 1a«47 ymrth «r whom I iln«, 
On bk bnMt te wMa a fllwi 
TeoM tak* hte te tlw to< of war. 

^ AllM<4^DiUa ««■ a 

O ! to M» tUi pHafl^jr OM 
SMtod OB a rajral tliroa* • 
DteflM* a' woaM dkappcar: 
Thaa teglas th* jabiM jraar. 

H^tmntl atUi :f loti. 

I ^ar kaaidwy»MiiMiMa«tbt« 

DAaa loawn th» Bighl «%r tha «««• Man 
Tin mod nqr ■tonriag flM dMfM atali 
AUmI norBntarMtoiwWtir ' 

• toMiPtaaBaa 

FoTHttOB joaa 

Wheat W m m mm m mm 

AOta-a-IMt to Irii wBOtag ha 

SdJinSSliriiSrill^flriljr tWairraaifRMaiAaamtA* AmafiiaM 

iiaterlMl'«ad>ta«lMkailli^loa«i«ar. Maf kr Aaciyr.j 
dto vttk our Ooaari. aad iMaa Mai ■• aara. 



[Bora la Sir WALTaa SeoTf^ ponoT* Rokikf ."] 
AiA8ii*A<DAUi hai ao ftool tar Iwntihifc 

AllMmMlate has oo Into te tho 4ilaali« I 
Toft AOm-a'dato hat lad foM to «iM wtoatng. 

Aad taO no tbo enft oTbold AOMKa-Dalo. 

ThobawttofBai— iiiiilhptanoMlaprtdo, 
And ho Tlowa hk domataa apoa Aitteihdo Mo, 
Tho OMM fbr hh aot, and tbo huab Ibr hli funo, 
Tho dhaw flBT tho wild, and tiM park tir tho tamo : 
TH tho fUb of tito laka, aad tho dMT or tho VBlo, 
Am iMi fMO to kird Dam* thaa ABoa-a-Dalo. 

0, 04 V la «ko hM «r MM hnaii Mao OM ? 
Bv Ml* li *a svartMl thaft owr «ao «<■• 
Hot oho* ■■ tho PM It, bat fttohOT. I «ooa«- 
HM^i tkt laorital bMrto that ttrlpi aa Iho tvHB. 
Tho hooM or air tooo li totow M tho vaOv. 

■o tho waadiftaff boot 
or flonaM to that ipoft that to MA. 
lo tho OMdd ttoU I toML wt* tho boMlo Mat ooo. 
O taw )fo tho Mm, fta. 


lowo hv oat to tho gita. 

m Kr ft«n tho «ortd% flilio and vaahhtat iBoao, 
To mj dtar on*, tht bm wl' tho boaalt Maoatau 
O aiv jt tho hM^ to. 





[Written to an old Highland strathspey, called John o* Badenyon, by the Rev. John Sii(jiji«ii. I 

When first I came to be a man, of twenty years, or so, 

I thought myself a handsome youth, and fain the world would know : 

In best attire I stept abroad, with spirits brisk and gay ; 

And here, and there, and every where, was like a morn in May. 

No care I had, no fear of want, but rambled up and down ; 

And for a beau I might have pass'd in country or in town: 

I still was pleased where'er I went ; and, when I was alone, 

I tuned my pipe, and pleased myself wi' John o' liudenyon. 

Now in the days of youthful prime, a mistress I must find ; 
For love, they say, gives one an air, and ev'n improves the mind : 
On Phillis fair, above the rest, kind fortune fix'd mine eyes ; 
Her piercing beauty struck my heart and she became my choice. 
To Cupid, now, with hearty prayer, I offer'd many a vow. 
And danced and sung, and sigh'd and swore, aa other lovers do; 
But when at last I breathed my flame, I found her cold as stone— 
I left the girl, and tuned my pipe to John o' Badenyon. 

When love had thus my heart beguiled with foolish hopes and vnin. 

To friendship's port I steer'd my course, and laugh'd at lovers' pain . 

A friend I got by lucky chance — 'twas something Uke divine ; 

An honest friend's a precious gift, and such a gift was mine. 

And now, whatever may betide, a happy man was I, 

In any strait I knew to whom I freely might apply. 

A strait soon came ; my friend I tried — he laugh'd, and spurn 'd my mutin ; 

i hied me home, and tuned my pipe to John o' Badenyon. 

I thought I should be wiser next, and would a patriot torn, 
Began to doat on Juhme Wilkes, and cry'd up parson Home ; 
Their noble spiint I admir'd, and praised their noble zeal, 
Who had, with flaming tongue and pen, maintain'd the public weaL 
But, e'er a month or two had pass'd, 1 found myself betray'd ; 
•Twas Self and Party, after all, for all the stir they made. 
At last I saw these factious knaves insult the very throne ; 
I cursed them all, and tuned my pipe to John o' Badenyon. 

What next to do I mused a while, still hoping to succeed ; 

I pitch'd on books for company, and gravely tried to read : 

I bought and borrowed every where, and studied night and diiy, 

Nor miss'd what dean or doctor wrote, that happen 'd in my way. 

Philosophy 1 now esteem 'd the ornament of youth. 

And careftiUy, through many a page, I hunted after truth : 

A thousand various schemes I tried, and yet was pleased with none ; 

X threw them by, and tuned my pipe to John o' Badenyon. 

And now, ye youngsters everywhere, who wish to nmke a show. 

Take heed in time, nor vainly hope for happiness below ; 

What you may fancy pleasure here is but an empty name ; 

And girls, and friends, and books iilso, you'll find them all the s.ime. 

70 scornsH soikml 

Tbm tm afiTMBd, snd wamiaf tskt ft«B iwll • BMM M SMI 

I'm oiMHr pop* nor cvAbMl, oar «M Of kH^ d^(rH t 
Yow*! wwi r W i pl— ! ■ gtwy iHiwt tibm 4q m I hsv* «m»~ 
X*«a ttHM fpw pipt, aad piMW imfwlf wttk Jute aT V m Umimu 

Vjftf 8Bff SRifuUf . 

rw'srrm bf Dr. Aluavvhi Qm— , » OiIIipIIi itmtfmmm, amt wm >■>■■ >y Mi teMWIrti— •! 
Um BIbte and polnnlml writtii«k Dr. 0«da««ai bam tai thtWBB^arBMffla ITV.Mid aSatefc^ 
w>priwtfcrwwwUyi»t«4iita»tp«m<f<iW— HiafHwrtia* Ba taMrtj irttM to Lantfo^, 
whan ha dkd to latai AoMnalrarUaUftinHfiMklHAIyJatoillMaaOoodtolMi] 

TnmaiaM ft «ia Ml wltoldik «w aaariie *M Ika Mr, 
Bad got • «w Mt dnippvUa, tfMt M«i kv SMlMa f»i«t 
It tMi atoal Ika wlfla^ tatft, Mrf aba hifMi to ipaw, 
O ! qoa^ tlM «aa wttkMat I «kh 1 Mmm lb«. 

I »1ab I btam ft*, qw^ tka, I wWiI Mmm •»• 

Oh 1 «w tt« «w wMiMa^ 1 «Mi 1 Mmm te. 


Balll la «•«• Md HA* a Mp totov «■! I fM 
nttli« allha ^^ihMMa. aad tohhv ar har ai^ 
B!r aam a paatoaaa laddla «r a BMto paifc. 

Wf a Uttia paak, qaar iha. «r a Itlla pa*. 

Bjr — afBiilmnii toddtowfalwtopaah. 

Ha-a to^ hv pMw aad a* har ptodtoi and iMl a«i«' ha laa t 

Oh 1 taar iha «aa vMMda, 1Mb li aaa MM. 
TMa la aaa ■«, faar Aa, tUi b aaa M* 
8aaaaho4r haa haaa Mik« Mk and iMa li ■■• Mb 

Aad aMB, W thb ha llMaahli, tfwaa phiiito iMala liT ga 
BM I wOl kwk iha panto a«*a. aaa Rto Iha aaavla bat'- 
Thva^ aalthar pv«» Bor ptoak ahaat aal-tHa la aaa SMk 

I haaa a mtto howakto. tort aad a htodly mui t 
▲ dag^tkayefhtoiDaaariaMai If iMa to ow hall towa t 
And Joaaato, ball eeaia to Iha daor, and Madly ««leotna gf t . 
And a* «ha tadrna aa tha flaoa^haad win daMa If thto ha ma. 

Tha algkt «aa toto, aad daat oat WHI, aad ak bat tt «M dMk t 
Tba doggto kaard a bodTi Iboi. and ha bafaa to bark. 
Ub whan aha haaid tba doatW torfc. and kMoln' n «M tov 
Oh waal kaa yt, Poooria, quo* *a. thia la aaa ma. 
Thb la oar ia», itc 


When Johnnie heard his Bessie's word, fast to the door he ran ; 
Is that you, Bessukie ? — Wow na, man ! 
Be kind to the bairns a', and weel mat ye be ; 
And fkreweel, Johnnie, quo' she, this is nae me J 
This is nae me, &c. 

John ran to the minister, his hair stood a' on end, 
I've gotten sic a fright. Sir, I fear I'll never mend ; 
My wife's come hame without a head, crjing out most piteonsly. 
Oh fareweel, Johnnie, quo' she, this is nae me ! 
This is nae me, &c. 

The tale you tell, the parson said, is wonderful to me, 
How that a wife without a head could speak, or hear, or see I 
But things that happen hereabout, so strangely alter'd lie, 
That I could maist wi' Bessie say, 'tis neither you nor she. 
Neither you nor she, quo' he, neither you nor she. 
Wow na, Johnnie man, tis neither you nor she. 

Now Johnnie he cam' hame again, and oh ! but he wa* fain. 
To see his Uttle Bessukie come to hersel' again. 
He got her sitting on a stool, wi' Tibbuck on her knee : 
Oh I come awa', Johnnie, quo' she, come awa* to ine. 
For I've got a nap wi' Tibbuckie, and this is now me. 
This is now me, quo' she, this is now me, 
I've got a nap wi' Tibbuckie, and this is now me. 

ContemtclJ toi* littk* 

[Written by Burns to the tune of " Lumiw o' Padding."] 

Contented wi' little, and cantie wi' mair. 
Whene'er I forgather wi' sorrow and care, 
1 gi'e them a skelp, as they're creepin' alang, 
Wi' a cog o' gude swats, and an auld Scottish sang. 

I whyles claw the elbow o' troublesome thought. 

But man is a sodger, and life is a faught : 

My mirth and gude 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' : 
Wien at the blythe end o' 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 frac me, e'en let the jade gae : 
Come ease, or come travail ; come pleasure, or pain. 
My warst word is—" Welcome i and welcome again. 



80UTTISU 801I0& 

?$er Nsnif . 

• ^ IiMVMt«lidMl*ba«t«fM« 

t WOOldlt tlMM lMtP« BM 

(Mraie by Mr. J« 
litre Ant printed.] 

Hn wuiM ! oh, h 
Ab DO i from this 
Whieh ehMn it at •ratng and sliidi H M nwm, 
flowed b7 Ufct OMW tk dtamaiid aad lonu 
A nanM whleh k ainllght and ■eoslfh* «• Bib 
111 iMwUMttothtBlfktwIadttataotaBlDtkM. 


i>IA>ntMwh th i ■■■■ > ■! 


And Itot tm I hev th« ^«d < 
And, oft M It rlee*» the mA mntid biMM 
8h«n wmft It awv thnMfh the tadl IbTHt ti 
TiU Unneta and thnidMs, iMVliM bgr the tiMOM, 
BhiOl ristf like th* 1^ 01^ h«ud «k«ii 

-\rbAt joyoM deUgbt. la tho mhs cfiri^r iteda. 
To bMT tho lorM nauM warblad tfMa IhroaCli «ha 

Twfll ftaal o'er mj bntai Oka tha 

%Vbrn kaiad wttb fmtmmtt 

T«t, ladj. antU'et thai m* akjr h«fft, 
Thiirirthaa woold'M UA platarM thv*. 

My wMMt^ heart pariMps iMd |H 
BeM eparM Uw paagi of thk adlM • 

taoMorthe iW«« cracratloa ol 
NUria iMMa." i^ Caft. Ca<ai> 
Quit, M, iU-^Um ftm prtBlid.] 


Tha d«tf wordei but ah. I'U oat leO 

aanw I W. O. B. 

tkialMrn DMilibiii— hiawBiiai 


SSilt t^ott rrmfmbn bu. I Ba«ZtoJ?ih!irlSl 

[Patbics Mabwbu., adMor af Mia 
PorttaalWorto. Toaa, ** Good alfht, aad jay ba 
•rl* y a'.**— Here f 

Pabbwsu. ! aad, when I'm hr away* 

O mj, wUt thoa re man a bw dm, 
'Whan IhToar'd fHande and flwee fiif 

Their •ool'i pare taM«sa teadar thM ?— 
When an arooad aia glad tiM while. 

And giorj in thy kwa ih w t-~ 
When ercry heart ahaO own thjr ■an* 

It! pvoodaet aim-He hifheat bllM/ 

TlUeinay notbt: thoaknow^naaoti 
A wmnd*rer on U1^ wvary road; 

Yet wUl I bkae mj hnppy lot 
That led ma to thy lov'd aboda. 

fWrtAiAM Mnxn af fltonnw.— Haw 

I aAD a drean o^ tthar daiib 

A elnkei dreaas o'>y. 
It earn* like MaahlBe thfOi«k a ilad 

Lifc^ dark «o«B tad 


It came when I was sick at heart. ^ Your tackle mount, my gallant heart.. 

And sleepless was mine e'e. 

With mmnow, Hy, or roe. 

Wlien luve was fause, an' wily tongues 

It is best from the west, 

Turn'd frien' to enemie. 

While the gentle breezes blow. 

1 thocht a saft han* lay in mine. 

Old Scotland holds the cataract 

A sriia' waist in my arm. 

Among her mountains steep. 

A wee heart beatin'— throbbin' fast 

With streaming rills, and sleepy pools. 

Wi' love an' life-bluid warm. 

Where trout and salmon leap. 
Then mount the line, my gallant hearts, 

In quiet streams I've seen fair flowers 

The bills are clear of snow ; 

Kkl 'neath the bank they grew. 

Fling bait in the spate. 

t^ae in her deep blue een I read 

^^'hile the gentle breezes blow. 

Flower-thochts o' various hue. 

The spirit of old anglers gone 

0, dinna look sae kind, Willie, 

WUl rise with every cast, 

Orelsewi'joy I'Udee, 

And cheer us 'neath the summer sun 

An' dinna read my heart, Willie, 

Or winter's angry blast. 

Wi' thae lang lucks o' your e'e. 

Where old John Foster fish'd so well. 
To Birgham Dub, we'll go. 

A maiden's heart should be, Willie, 

And try with the fly. 

A sacred thing to men. 

While the gentle breezes blow. 

Its workings in an hour o' joy 

Man-body ne'er can ken. 

The fame of Carham's angling stream 
WiU only higher rise. 

The flower that in the shade wad live 

While Scott can wield a sahnon rod. 

Will wither in the sun,— 

Or Carse can dress such flies. 

An' joy may work on maiden-heart 

Tweed's been their glory, they her pride, 

What grief wad ne'er lia'e done. 

Then let her waters flow 
To the fame of their name. 

The marrin' o' a melody— 

While the gentle breezes blow. 

The stoppin' o' a stream— 

A sudden lapse in sunny licht— 

The burstin* o' a dream. 

I woke— and on my glassy een 


The paley moonbeam shone : 

Speak on, I cried,— speak on, but, lo! 

The weel kent voice was gone ! 

[John Mitchkli. of Paisley.— Here first printed. ] 

My hame ! I w.adna lea' my hame. 
Rough though the biggin be. 

£iM^% <S©^S> 

To live amid a blaze o' fame. 

For what is fame to me ! 
In life's gay morn, wi' lightsome tread. 

'W. A. Fo'THR, formerly of Coldstream, after- 

I roved the groves amang. 

wards of Glasgow. Tune, *' Ye mariners of Eng- 

Where, still at e'en, I lay my head 

land." Here first printed.] 

To list ilk wee bird's sang. 

Ye fishermen of Scotland, 

And I have seen in lordly ha' 

Who love the stream and pool, 

The fair and gay convene. 

Whose haunts are by the river side. 

Where wTeathed smiles chased care awa'. 

Among tlie shadow's cool . . 

I And love seera'd nature's queer ; ' 


■oornsa 801IWL 

Bat,0! vyhMm,«ylMBnM«^BW, 
WhHMW 1 theofht of th«, 

Tbe wimtlMd •naite, Um mlaatnrk tamw 
Wm a' liovfot by m«> 

■m jM. theagh Ml oqr had Ite MAW* 

O* Ttan* bafint t0 Mnl, 
ToathH Joy* ■cm mil* wifhtai «h» «m^ 

O* ay «•» angr bW. 
▲ad ttM^ to ma MM I 

Thiui »^ ji— id Bi l M lwf hy. 

And, I 

And I wiU trai thM wwl. 
And biMi, who* I te^ Mb, tiM b 

TtaMt s»Tt ^M to «y btaL 
My bMM, nay hna*, oqr ate dMi 

Wha wad tha Mtfta ka*. 

Ote ya frt a hddte ttet^ hwtac as* Ma. 


[Taa aathor of llUi i 

I «•> WnxtAM OtMM, a Mrtlva <f ObHfaw* 

— UawMkrMBMpMlBdar 

Hythapotf toa» n — > 

[Auz. Lai— aflfciiila,] 

An* O, oiay I B«f«r Kv* itafla agate— 
I wiah loaayaavwUvaitegliafyai 
I ha"* a gmtoman, aa' a kaaw tt agr ate, 
Aa* O, may I atw Iha ilagb i«ida. 
I>» twm boaal* balHM Um idnat oTa*. 
Tbay ofawr ap aiy heart wbaa UmIt 

!*«• aa* a» nay IboC, and X» aa* oa oqr fe 

At glaamte* tlMlr daddlt MBM te ft 
The bUnk la hisa'*, aa* tha amOa oo hto brow, 
Sayi, ** how ara ya, laaria, O, how ara ya a*. 
An' howli tha waa bodtaa ala' I gada awa' ?" 
He ainga V tha a'aala' Ai' ehaary aa' gay- 
He tella C the tott an' tha aawa & tha day: 
The twa boanla lammtea ha talCa oa hla knee. 
An' bUnka o^M tha ingi* fte' eoathia to taa. 

O bappy*a tha flUhar thafi happy at haoM— 
An- btytha iatha mltter that** Myth* o' tha aama; 
Tha oaiaa C tha warid thay'lbariM to dna— 
The warid ia naathhig to Johnny an' bm. 

aB**, foar OImI UUm oap of Ub. WkU* al 
Tiy««rth Obatia, «Im Mar^ali of BnadatbaM 
had ciWigad Mr. WBaoa. Um toMniad vonalM, 
to ateg batoa kar Mi^Mr* ▲ Hit «r tka aaagi 

Aa* ay* tha o^areooM tr hi* ang 
Waa *« Wa*% ma fcr Pttea* Charila r 


YW w*d 1 laiod Piten C^rite. 



Quoth I, " My bird, my bonnie bonnie bird, ^ For low shall riiany a proud head lie. 

Is that a sang ye bon-ow. 

And eyes be dim now sparkling clear ; 

Are these some words ye've learnt by heart. 

A nd severed many a tender tie 

Or a lilt o' dool an' sorrow?" 

Ere time revolve the infant year. 

" Oh ! no no no," the wee bird sang, 

memory ! when my mind looks o'er 

" I've flown sin' mornin' early. 

Thy records, often fall my tears. 

But sic a day o' wind and rain— 

For friends long lost, and vanish'd joys— 

Oh ! wae's me for Prince Charlie ! 

For loves and hopes of bygone years! 

" On hills that are, by right, his ain 

But why despond ? sure 'tis unwise 

He roves a lanely stranger. 

To damp our present bliss with fear; 

On every side he's press'd by want. 

When Heaven commands we must depart. 

On every side is danger; 

And farewell bid life's fleeting year. 

Yestreen I met him in a glen, 

And now, my friends, may fav'riiig heaven 

My heart maist burstit fairly. 

For sadly chang'd indeed was he — 

And health, and wealth, and happiness 

Oh I wae's me for Prince Charlie ! 

Attend you still from year to year. 

"Dark night cam' on, the tempest roar'd 

May peace and plenty bless your board. 

Loud o'er the hills an'valleys. 

And marriage crown with love sincere ; 

An' whare was't that your Prince lay down 

May joys unknown to auld langsyne. 

Whase hame should been a palace ? 

Make this a happy, happy year ! 

He row'd him in a Highland pLaid, 

Then fill the sparkling glasses fuU, 

Which cover'd him but sparely. 

And drink to friends both far and near;— 

A n' slept beneath a bush o' broom— 

Thus may we meet in joy to greet 

Oh! wae's me for Prince Chjurlie !" 

The glad return of many a year. 

Eut now the bird saw some red coats. 

An' he sheuk his wings wi' anger, 
•' Oh ! this is no a land for me. 

®^e EE^©^^ ©f MimiBmor^. 

I'll tarry here nae langer." 

He hover'd on the wing a while 

[Music by James Jaap.J 

Ere he departed fairly. 

But weel I mind the fareweel strain 

This lone heart is thine, lassie, charming and fair. 

Was, " Wae's me for Prince Charlie !" 

This fond heart is thine, lassie dear; 
Nae warld's gear ha'e I, nae oxen nor kye, 
I've aaething, dear lassie, but a puir heart to gi'e. 

Yet dinna say me na, 
But come awa'. 

^^2 ^2U Ytuu 

And wander, dear lassie, 'mang the woods o* Dun- 
more, [more. 
And wander, dear lassie, 'mang the woods o' Dun- 

[Inscbibkd to Joseph Train, Esq., by the author, 

William Dobib.— Tune, " Gnid night and joy be 

sweet is thy voice, lassie, charming an' fair. 

wi' you a'."— Here first printed.] 

Enchanting thy smile, lassie dear; 
I'll toil aye for thee, for ae blink o' thine e'e 

Comb— fill brimful the inspiring bowl, 

Is pleasure mair sweet than siller to me. 

We'll close this day in festive cheer; 

Yet dinna say me na, &c. 

Time out of mind old Scotia's sons 

With mirth have hail'd the new-born year. 

come to my arms, lassie, charming an' fair. 

We all have weather 'd many storms. 

Awa' wild alarms, lassie dear; 

And safely now are landed here ; 

This fond heart an' thine like ivy shall twine. 

B'.it who can tell to us 'tis given, 

I'll lo'e thee, dear, till the day that I dee. 

To meet and hail another year. ^ 

^ 0, dinna eay me na, &c. 


Snnran 6rtas« 



[" OOMAK 0»AT** i« Mid to h»f« bMB A aVtV 

or oumaa In duRow, about tiM baginiihif of 
tbt lait taatarj, Mtd th* ton* wbkh ffOM by his 
BMM k Mid to haM bam tokm dowa froa kk 
whktliiif. TiM MkmlBC It th* aid Mi or ««f<di 
MaltMad 1)7 Barns tbr JohnMBl Mumbhi ) 

Wbabt Ck' jroa, Donma Ofsy, 

U*, ba. the glnUn' o^: 
WiM fM by 70a, Doaeaa On;, 

'When a' tb« lav* gaa to their pbx. 
Then I roaaia rit the lee-Uag day. 
An'jttn the endk «!' my tae. 

An' a' (or the gtrdla' oX 

OlowrlB' a* the hBb ahoon, 

The gtadia' brak*, the beMt een* down. 
I tint mjr eonh aa' balth aiy dwoo ; 
An; Daacaa, 7«*i« aa aaoo leoo, 

Wm oa the bad gMla* et. 


IHUaMjoairt'Myl' ' 



▲a* aald MeM Joha wB M«d thi 
An' ekwt the bad gltdla' ot. 

3itiuaii Gtas* 

rwarrnnt by Bonm la Deeaaber, ITM^ fer 
Tbocneon'e ooUeettoa. Its hamoar aad i^Mt 
hare made it an oninoMl Aifoaiite.] 

DvjfCAM Grat Mm* here to woe, 

Ila, ha. the woofa^ 0% 
Oa blythe Tale nldit. when w wtn ka. 

Ha, ha» the woolav tfti 
lla«K)e COM her head Aa* hdeh. 
Looted aeidaat. and oneo ehelgk, 
Gart puir DoMaa elaad ebelgh 

Kn. ha, the «oa<i« ot. 

ftttid Hoi ^fUtti^. 

[Taia li ghMi la lewgri Vn-Thble Mieeel* 

antoeaaiMaeiB. Hw tae afAald Bah Mocrir 


at oae ttae to Mr. : 

Avu Boh Monrte, that wone la yea glea, 
Be^ the kli« e^ gaM tdto««,aad wale «> aaM a 
Beb - 
^ Aald Boh XflfHi ii tlw MB je a 


DAUGHTER. ^ The day comes to me, but delight brings me nane ; 

[laud your tongue, mother, and let that abee ; 

The nicht comes to me, but my rest it is gane ; 

For his eild and my eild can never agree : 

I wander my lane, like a nicht-troubled ghaist. 

They'll never agree, and that will be seen ; 

And I sigh as my heart it wad burst in my breisb. 

For he is fourscore, and I'm but fifteen. 

Oh, had she but been of a lower degree. 


I then micht ha'e hoped she wad smiled upon me ! 

Haud your tongue, dochter, and lay by your pride. 

Oh, how past descriving had then been my bliss. 

For he is the bridegroom, and ye'se be the bride ; 

As now my distraction no words can express ! 

He shall lie by your side, and kiss you too ; 

Auld Rob Morris is the man ye maun lo'e. 


W^^V %uk. 

Auld Rob Morris, I ken him fu' weel. 

His back sticks out like ony peat-creel ; 

1 [" Rob's Jock," or " The Wooing of Jock and 

He's out-shian'd, in-kneed, and ringle-eyed too; 

^ Jenny," to the tune of " Hey, Jenny, com' down 

■ Auld Rob Mon-is is the man I'll ne'er lo'e. 

to Jock," is one of the very oldest of our Scottish 
' songs, and can be traced as far back as to tlie 


i Bannatyne MS. of 1568. We find considerable 

Though auld Rob Morris be an elderly man, 

difference of reading in different versions. The 

Yet his auld brass will buy you a new pan ; 

following is the version given by Ramsay, who 

Then, dochter, ye should na be sae ill to shoe. 

calls it " a very auld ballat."] 

For auld Rob Morris is the man ye maun lo'e. 

Rob's Jock cam' to woo our Jenny ; 


On ae feast day when we were fou ; 

But auld Rob Jlorris I never will ha'e. 

She brankit fast, and made her bonnie, 

His back is so stiff, and his beard is grown gray ; 

And said, Jock, come ye here to woo ? 

I had rather die than live wi' him a year ; 

She burnist her, baith breast and brow. 

Sae mjiir o' Rob Morris I never will hear. 

And made her clear as ony clock ; 

Then spak' her dame, and said, I trow 

1 Ye come to woo our Jenny, Jock. 


^uu m^i jm©rtfe. 

Jock said, Forsuith, I yearn fu' fain. 

To luk my head, and sit down by you : 
Then spak' her minny, and said again. 

[Written by Burns, for Thomson's collection. 

My bairn has tocher enough to gi'e you. 

in November, 1792. Burns, it will be seen, bor- 

Tehie ! quo' Jenny ;. Keik, keik, I see yon 

rows the two opening lines of the,old song.^ 

Minny, yon man mak's but a mock. 
Beshrew the liar, fu leis me o' you. 

There's auld Rob Morris, that wons in yon glen. 

I come to woo your Jenny, quo' Jock. 

He's the king o' gude fellows, and wale o' auld men; 

He has gowd in his coffers, and owsen and kine, 

My bairn has tocher of her ain : 

And ae bonnie lassie, his darhng and mine. 

A guse, a gi7ce, a cock and hen, 
A stirk, a staig, an acre sawin. 

She's fresh as the raoming, the fairest in May ; 

A bake-bread and a bannock-stane. 

ahe's sweet as the ev'ning amang the new hay ; 

A pig, a pot, and a kirn there-ben. 

As blythe and as artless as the lambs on the lea. 

A kame but and a kaming stock; 

And dear to my heart as the licht o' my e'e. 

With cogs and luggies nine or ten: 
Come ye to woo our Jenny, Jock ? 

But, oh, she's an heiress, auld Robin's a laird. 

And my daddie has nocht but a cot-house and 

A wecht, a peat-creel, and n cradle. 

yard ; 

A pair of clips, a graip, a flail. 

A wooer like me maunna hope to come speed ; 

An ark, an ambry, and a laidle. 

Tiie wounds I maun hide that will soon be my deid. ^ 

|R A railsie, and a sowen-pail. 


A rooalj whittto to abMT tlw kin. 
And a tiBnbcfHneU tha bear to knodt, 

Tw» ilMUb nMl« of an aold flr-dato 
OooM y to woo our Jonnjr, Joek? 

A farm, a fttrlet, and a peek* 

A rock,a ra^ and a wiMel-faaiid, 
A tub, a barrow, and a Mdc, 

A qmrtle-biaid, and aa ohraiid. 

Tbfen Jock took Jenny bjr the hand. 
And ciT'd, A feait! and elew a eoek. 

And made a bridal upo" land. 
Now I ha'e got jroiur Jenny, (lOO* Jo^ 

Now dame, I have ynor doditer a —f ried. 
And tho' ye mak' tt M^aw laagh, 

I let yon wit ihe't nae mhearriid, 
Ife weU kend I ha** fear awMch : 
An aokl gawd ^oyd Ml owia a hangll, 

A epade, a ipeet, a cpor, a eoeki 

A TbewlfctpMrMffailhafcrflwaa 
TiM roMk «■• toigk 

May that no aer your Jenny, qoo* Jork > 

A freen truu e he r, a ram>hom ipoon, 

Twa bita ct barkat Uaatait halhar. 
A gnith that ganto to aoMa dboeo. 

And a thrawemek to tmjm a tMlbar. 

Twa eroeka that moiVMBMftf ' 
A pair or biaaka and a ftCtor kick, 

A teogh poiaa made oTa awfaa^ 
To hand your toehar, Janay, qaa^ Joek. 

Good ekUng itr our wtetor fiM, 
A eod of oaff wad fill a andla, 

A lake oTtion to daat 0H hyva, 
A dank aboot the daba to paddia i 
The pannal of aa aald lad aildla, 

And Bob my aeaa hadit ma a atook, 
Twa laaty Upa to Uek a tekklla. 

May thia no gaae yoor Jeaay> qno^ Jodt? 

A pair of heme and bnahon fine. 

And withoat Mtta a bridla n 

A grey green ckika that wm not atenaia 

Mair yet In aton— I ■ 
FWe handred flaaa, a Ibady flockt 

And are not tiiae a wakrifc maaria. 
To gae to bed with Jenny and Joek? 

Tak* thlr for my part of the teat. 
It ia weU known I am weal bodia' 

re neodna |ay my part la leaat. 

Were they aa maikia ai they^ lodin'. 


[Tan aooct to tba old taaa of ** Bay. 
It la 

altered and ahrtdgad ftVB tki 
la Hardl aellaaUM cfPTf.) 

Iffhea aha heard that Joafejr had aooe that way. 

Jaa«y iha vHi 09 tha Mrir, 
For JaMV «M Mato atoa BMO Mk I 

Aad a|« aa* load aa hv toUhar dM nwiw 
*• Hay, Jaaay, latoa ilii a ■ to Utk." 

Jaoay aha caaa dofWB «ha atoir. 

And aha aatM* bobktai* MBd boaMB* hen ( 
Har aliq»lh9««« hMafi, M^ter waal H WW 

AmAmhmm !■ ■ Ji p i i. Ukaip^ 

Joekit took iHr kgr the haa«V^ 
*'0,JaM«yIauiyalMeyB ' 



If yail ho mgr iM^r. IV he |«v J«ik.» 

L halth r «M^ Janiv* ** I *v yon atoak.* 


And aya aao toad aa her arithar dl4 ■ 
*Tww,ahal hwaa Jenny flotJeakr 

(Aaavwan old aong mathid hy Baato 
THt-Tabla MkoeUany with a Z.] 

Taa meal waa dear ahort ^ne. 

Wo hndtled na a' thafhher ) 

▲ad Magfb waa la her prima. 


Twa pistols charg'd by guess, ^- And whan that I gae hame. 

To gi'e the courting shot; 

I maun tak' to my coots ; 

And syne came ben the lass. 

The cloak is Geordy Watt's, 

Wi' swats drawn frae the butt. 

That gars me look sae crouse ; 

He first speir'd at the gudeman, 

Come, fill us a cogue o' swats. 

And syne at Giles the mither. 

We'll mak' nae somir toom rooee. 

An' ye wad gie'sa bit land. 

We'd buckle us e'en thegither. 

I like you weel, young lad. 

For telUng me sue plain. 

My dochter ye shall ha'e. 

I married whan little I had 

I'll g'ie you her by the hand ; 

O' gear that was my ain. 

But I'll part wi' my wife, by my fae. 

But sin' that things are sae. 

Or I part wi' my land. 

The bride she maun come forth. 

Your tocher it s'all be good, 

Tho' a' the gear she'll ha'e 

There's nane s'all ha'e its maik. 

'Twill be but little worth. 

The lass bound in her snood. 

A bargain it maun be. 

And Cnmamie wha kens her stake : 

Fye cry on GUes the mither ; 

Wi' an auld bedding o' claes. 

Content am I, quo' she. 

Was left me by my mither, 

E'en gar the hizzie come hither. 

They're jet black o'er wi' flaea. 

Ye may cuddle in them thegither. 

The bride she gaed to her bed. 

The bridegroom he came till her, 

Ye speak right weel, gudeman. 

The fiddler crap in at the fit. 

But ye maun menu your hand, 

And they cuddl'd it a' thegither. 

And think o' modesty. 

Gin ye'U no quit your land. 

We are but young, ye ken. 

And now we're gaun thegithei. 

A house is but and ben. 

And Crummie will want her fother. 
The bairns are coming on. 

imwidaiEii mniu. 

And they'll cry, their mither ! 

We've neither pat nor pan. 

But four bare legs thegither. 

[This is another song of very considerable anti- 

quity, and is valuable as illustrative of ancient 

Your tocher's be good enough. 

manners. It is marked by Ramsay in his Tea- 

For that ye needna fear. 

Table Miscellany ^th a Z, implying that it was 

T\va good stilts to the pleugh. 

1 then old.] 

And ye yoursel' maun steer: 

Ye s'all ha'e twa guid pocks 

Hearken and I will tell you how 

That anes were o' the tweel. 

Young Muirland Willie came to woo. 

The tane to baud the groats. 

Tho' he cou'd neither say nor do; 

The tither to baud the meal : 

The truth I tell to you. 

Wi' an auld kist made o' wands, 

But aye, he cries, Whate'er betide. 

And that s'all be your coffer. 

Maggy I'se ha'e to be my bride. 

Wi' aiken woody bands, 

With a fal, dal, &c. 

And that may baud your tocher. 

On his gray yade, as he did ride, 

Consider weel, gudeman, 

Wi' durk and pistol by his side, 

We ha'e but barrow'd gear. 

He prick'd her on wi' meikle pride. 

The horse that I ride on 

Wi' meikle mhi;h and glee. 

Is Sandy Wilson's mare ; 

Out o'er yon moss, out o'er yon muir, 

The saddle's nane o* my ain, 

Till he came to her daddy's door. 

And thae's but borrow'd boots, ^ 

jfc With a fal, dal, &c. 




ht.tejw within? 
fpw doducrli lov« to wts. 

WbMt munmr gl*« jw om ? 
Kow, wooer, quoth h*. woall yt Ufht down^ 
111 gl't jre mj dochtrr't love to win, 

With ft tkl, dkl, he. 

Mow, woo«r, itai' !• an Ugbtod down. 
WlMn do j« woo, or bi what town ? 
1 thlak nj doefator wlaaa gloom, 

Oa ilea lad ooyow 
Tht wooir ho Hi p p^ ap tfco h oati. 
And wow hat ho WW waadlVM eram. 


A kflnfe- oroorn 111 (i>o lollM% 

Thiat aiam •' •hMp, ta»toad afllhia, 


■ hn. 


Twa food faaa yadootaad flMT raoa^ 
Tho plaeo tho m' U Qodonoagh} 

I Mora to Ml allot 
llMldM. I ha'o frao tho giaat lahd, 
▲ p«H>at, and a laa« kaU-janl 

With a Ihl, dal, &c 

Tho maid pot on bar Urtlo brown. 
8ho woo tho brawwt la a' tho to« a 


▲ad ear MdoU «MMm 

. _ i,a'lBUao. 
Frm lap to lao Ihqr wan boa* atw. 

Tho lovnr ho oloadod ap la haMo, 
Aad gripi hor hanl about tho wabt, 

To wta foar lova, maid, I*ra oomo here, 
I'm yooag, aad ha^ caooch o* goar . 
Aad fbr mjrool' ft aoodaa ftar, 

Tn>wth trj mo whaa y Iflv, 
Il« took off hlo booaot, aad ipat In bloclMV, 
He dighUt his gab, and ho prlo'd hor moa'. 

With a ad, dal, &e. 

Tho maMoa bfaidi<d and bingM fti' tew, 
flhohadnawill toMybhnna, 
Bot to her daddy oho left it a', 

At thejr twa eoa'd agree. 
Tho tovor ho glod her the thher kiw. 
ilinae nui to hor daddy, aad 101111 hin thk^ 

With a (hi, dal. te. 

Yoor doohter wadna my mo aa. 

Hut to yoanel* ■he'O left it a'. 

Aa wo eoo'd agree be t woe a oa tw» , 

flay, what yell gi'o mo wi' brr ? 
How, wooer, qao* ho, I halo aa meikie. 
Hut alc^ I ha'e y«1 get a plekle. 

With a <kl. dal, «ce. 

Thoir tagro aad BMlolHo wore m daan. 
They glaaeod bt oar ladoW ooa, 

And ayo Ihay bobm aad ago thay bodtt, 
▲ad ay* lltoir loo* ihogkhor met. 

VtLuU o' iBomi. 

Ta flowory baaha tr boaalo Deon, 
Bow eaa ye bloom aae Adrt 

How eaa yo chaat, ya little btade, 

Thai alBga upon tho bo«gb| 
Thou mlnda om o' the happy daya 
Whoa my Ihum lovo wao trao. 

Thoull braak my baatt, thou bosalo bM, 

That ainga bealdo thy matai 
For aoo I ml, aad aao I aaag, 

Aad wlrt aa o* my litab 


Aft ha'e I roved by bonnie Doon, 
To see the woodbine twine. 

And ilka bird sang o' its love; 
And sae did I o* mine. 

\Vi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose, 
Frae aff its thorny tree ; 

And my fause luver staw the rose. 
But left the thorn wi' me. 

^HBfe d' Mmn* 

[Second "Version, ^vritten by Burns for John- 
eon's Museum. The following account of the air 
is given by the Poet, in a letter to Mr. Thomson, 
dated Nov. 1794: "There is an air. The Cale- 
donian Hunt's Delight, to which I wrote a song 
that you will find in Johnson — Ye banks and 
braes o' bonnie Doon. This air, I think, might 
find a place among your hundred, as Lear says of 
his knights. Do you know the history of the air ? 
It is curious enough. A good many years ago, 
Mr. James Miller, writer in your good town, was 
in company with our friend Clarke : and talking 
of Scottish music. Miller expressed an ardent 
ambition to be able to compose a Scots air. Mr. 
Clarke, partly by way of joke, told him to keep to 
the black keys of the harpsichord, and preserve 
some kind of rhythm, and he would infallibly 
compose a Scots air. Certain it is, that, in a few 
days, Mr. Miller produced the rudiments^ of an 
air, which Mr. Clarke, with some touches and 
corrections, fashioned into the tune in question."] 

Te banlcs and braes o' bonnie Doon, 

How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair ! 
How can ye chant, ye little birds. 

And I sae weary, fu' o' care ! 
Thou'lt break my heart, thou warbling bird. 

That wantons through the flowering thorn ; 
Thou minds me o' departed joys. 

Departed never to return. 

Oft ha'e I roved by bonnie Doon, 

To see the rose and woodbine twine ; 
And ilka bird sang o' its love. 

And fondly sae did I o' mine. 
Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose, 

Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree ; 
But my fause lover stole my rose. 

And ah 1 he left the thorn wi' me. 

^ ^mnu prlM^ €D|)aii:Ue. 

[Wkitten by James Hooo. Composed and 
arranged for the Piano Forte by N. Gow, jun.j 

Cam' ye by Athol, lad wi' the philabeg, 

Down by the Tummel, or banks of the Gary ? 
Saw ye our lads, wi' their bonnets an' white cock- 
liCaving their mountains to foUowPrinceCharlie? 
Follow thee, follow thee, wha wadna follow thee? 

Lang hast thou loved and trusted us fairly ! 
Charlie, Charlie, wha wadna follow thee ? 
King of the Highland hearts, bonnie Prince 

I ha'e but ae son, my brave young Donald ; 

But if I had ten they should follow Glengarry ; 
Health to M'Donald and gallant Clan-Ronald, 
For these are the men that will die for their 
Follow thee, follow thee, &c. 

I'll to Lochiel and Appin, and kneel to them ; 

Down by Lord Murray and Roy of Kildarlie ; 
Brave Mackintosh he shall fly to the field wi' them. 

They are the lads I can trust wi' my Charlie. 
Follow thee, follow thee, &c. 

Down through the Lowlands, down wi' the whig- 
Loyal true Highlanders, down with them rarely; 
Ronald and Donald drive on wi' the braid clajTiiore, 
Over the necks of the foes of Prince Charlie. 
Follow thee, follow thee, &c. 

[Written by the late DanielWkir of Greenock. 
Adapted to the celebrated air of " Rousseau's 

See the moon o'er cloudless Jura 
Shining in the lake below ; 

See the distant mountain towering 
Like a pyramid of snow. 

Scenes of grandeur — scenes of childhood- 
Scenes so dear to love and me ! 

Let us roam by bower and wildwood, 
; All ia lovelier when with thee. 


Aad llM ao mmm with dcw-4ro|M flM 

apnlte lih* tte «9tt cT lorn 
Xl^t M safan, to dewp M eloadlMi; 

Blond ntght to )oiw and me ! 
L«t tM nMun bjr bowvr and ibontatn, 

AU to lofalkr whM with thM. 

BcoTTuoi aovg«. 

ii OMdi 

®i)e Sbie. 

tWarrrait by tbt Bar. Jomr Sannraa to i 
«ld Htshtond fwl too*. " Tba Xwla wp «l 
wtolMd born" to mppomA to to a ■wtophar I 

Om whtoktj ttilL] 

O, wsaa I abh 

My ewto*s pratoa In propar ««to» 
I'd wand tt oat as load and 8am 
Aa evar pipvn dioa* I 
A' thai kann'd bar woald ba'Vi aworn, 
8to a awto na^ waa borat 
Haioabouta nor flir awa*. 

To nafk bar opoa blp or baali 
Uar ereohtt bomto did aa waal. 
To haa bar bf ama^ tbam a*. 

Bba aa««r tbtaatan'd aoaL aor ret. 
Bat kaepit ajf* bar ala Joff -trot : 
Baltb to tba fluUd and to tfaa oot, 
Wm navar awdr to toad nor oa'. 

naad e'er ha'a wtoh'd t 
wa never mtoa'd 
a tomb or twa. 

>'m booeat man 
For, aUIjr thing, i 

The flnt abe had I ga'e to Jock, 
To be to bim a kind o* atock ; 
And now the laddto bM a flock 
Ofmair than threttgr bead and twa. 

The netot I ga'e to Jean t and now 
The balm'a aae braw, baa •mlda me fti'. 
That lada aaa thick oana brr to woo, 
Tb«7*ra Ada to atoap oa bay or atraw. 


Wbaa oihar flOFtoa toy *• 4lK 


BaA aay aofla wa aNMr* 

Altb««b tba toted 



Fkaa bar and ban aaa all WM abomi 

Tba loaa a^ bar wa aoohl ba% borne, 


O, bad aba dtod o" eroap or eaaM, 
Aa awtoa dto wbaa tbay grow aald» 
U badiA baoa, bgr iMaiy teM, 
aaa aalr a baart to aaa o^ aa i^. 

Bat thaa, pair tblag. to taaa bar K*. 
BaMaib a btaldy rtttotaH baUbt 
la IMh, I toar tbat oar gaiawtto 

CtoU «p yoar moaaa, tot tiMa moarn 
Onr ewto wl' tba oookH bom, 
Fhm oa atowB, and toU-d and a ! 


[AVrittkn by Burns in May, 1795, for Mr. Thomson's collection. Tune, " Iluniours of Glen." 
" Bums," says Dr. Currie, " WTOte professedly for the peasantry of his country, and by them their 
native dialect is universally relished. To a numerous class of the natives of Scotland of another 
description, it may also be considered as attractive in a different point of view. Estranged from their 
native soil, and spread over foreign lands, the idiom of their country unites with the sentiments and 
descriptions on which it is employed, to recall to their minds the interesting scenes of infancy and 
youth — to awaken many pleasing, many tender recollections. For Scotsmen of this description more 
particularly. Burns seems to have written his song. Their groves o' sweet myrtle, a beautiful strain, 
which, it may be confidently predicted, will be sung with equal or superior interest on the banks of 
the Ganges or of the Mississippi, as on those of the Tay or the Tweed."] 

TirEiR groves o' sweet myrtle let foreign lands reckon, 

Where bright-beaming simimers exalt the perfume. 
Far dearer to me yon lone glen o' green breckan, 

"Wi' the bui-n 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, aft wanders my Jean. 

Though rich is the breeze in their gay simny valleys. 

And cauld Caledonia's blast on the wave ; 
Their sweet-scented woodlands that skirt the proud palaw. 

What are they ? The haunt of the tjTant 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 o' his Jean 1 

[The first four lines of this song belong to an old stall baUad called " The strong walls of Derry." 
1 iie rest were added by Burns for Johnson's Museum. Tune, " Failte na Miosg." 

My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here ; 
My heart's in the Hignlands, a-chasing the deer ; 
Chasing the wild deer, and following the roe ; 
Jly heart's in the Highlands wherever I go. 
Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the north. 
The birth-place of valour, the country of worth ; 
Wherever I wander, wherever I rove, 
Tlie hills of the Highlands for ever I love. 

Farewell to the mountains high cover'd with snow ; 
Farewell to the straths and green valleys below; 
Farewell to the forests and wild-hanging woods ; 
Farewell to the torrents and loud-pouring floods. 
My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here; 
My heart's in the HighLinds a-chasing tlie deer; 
Chasing the wild deer, and following the roe. 
My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go. 

OO scomsH sovotf. 

ifHomRtuf of B«iioiK. 

(TitM ^pMw<d la mi, m « twiMlHInn ham tfw fimtA, hi FiulM Ultan to Mi KtaiMk, Iv «r 
WALnmlevrr. UwMalterwwdi «t«» MMilt bfQ. F. OndMn, Biq. tai Mtw TI iimiib^ Mwt 
IMedtak ■rWaMvHv«tteft*'thtOTlgiMlaMatFBrt«raMS.«llM«iMi«rrMMkaoi«i.taw4 
omh«atldofWt>wtoo,»— AnriMiwHh<liy«adwHhbl»o<Mwailt»Hr*»fc<*">iO»>fc>» 
•ritiowBV.- MrIai*iMirtliitii—«miMi>t>fr%fauJ iiii, 

PMIBBA pouf ■ BJflli^ H JmW #C MOTS IlMBSlii MSk 

wa>wrtt»wi.Midtt> — l wlw, ty n ii H i M i ll — rt | i ,pinh iiii4»acU^K« <> ii w « ni < ln l3 


Bia im kt BUHlt his €rimM MbM M. Mairfe •Mm : 
•* Ab4 gnat, bMMrtBl «M« sTtaOTM," wM tlin tk* 
** That I najr pM«» 

Hb auk or koMw M «k» dvlM, h* giafvd tt with Ui ■wwO, 
Aad Mlv«v«d to Um Boir Uod tiM bMUMT oThk lord t 

Tbqr owid tiM coaqMik to Ui arm, Md IhM his Bigi ki 
" Ths h«rt tteft hM tor hoaow bMl, fegr Utai »isi bs rvi 
My dMghtor iMbsl and thoa ihiUl bs a wsMid pair. 
ycrthsaartbiawstofths h B iT S shs Mmfccf thstoir." 

That owhss a paiadlH oo safth, ir hMTto aad laa* sonUasi 
Aad amy lotd aad hKly brithi thaft aw* la « 
Orisd, *« HaaovMd ba tha b 

(Tax* popalar sliala was wtitttn by W iluam Locaa Aar^—Taaa, ** Ths Dail^ Glaa.' * 

8Ata,«lr«aanyhsart, wheal partod ftas aqr Jaaa, 

Aa* Mb, Hdr I righ^d white ths t«ur stood la oqr sea, 

For my daddte h bat poor, and aay tetoaa tosaa sbm'. 

It san ma IsaTs my aativa Ghtedoaia. 

Wh«a I thlnli oa ths days aow gaas, aa' m» happyis I ha^ b««a» 

White wand'ring wl' my dsar, whsM ths priavess btews aasiia, 

I 'm was to Icatrs my lasris. aad my daddism riapte ha*. 

Or ths hilte an' hsalthAa' bncss C Ostedsnia 

Bat whsrasar I wmadsr, stiO happy ba asy Jaaa, 

Naa saia distaib hsr bosom, whsrs paass has s««r bssa , 

Thaa tho* iUs oa Ute bsto* BM, •» hir III bsar thsm a', 

ThoaghaAIIihsavsarighteChlsdoate. « 

Bat shoaU ifchss a^sr bs mtaM, aad lay Jsaate sUn praas tras^ 

Thaa Maw ya tirriaff biasass, tin my aattea tead I visw : 

Thaa m kaasi oa Seotlali ihoas, white tha hsaitMt toar shaD C-. 


l.anli o' t^e Ech!» ■ 

^> Then Bell, my wife, who lo'es nae strife. 
She said to me richt hastilie. 
Get up, gudeman, save Crummie's life. 

[For many years It remained a mystery who 

And tak' your auld cloak about ye 

•was the author of this song, and very generally it 

was attributed to the pen of Burns. It is now 

My Crummie is a usefu* cow. 

known to be the production of Lady Nairne, the 

A nd she is come of a good kin' , 

authoress of seyeral other popular songs, i 

Aft has she wet the bairns's mou'. 
And I am laith that she should tyne; 

I'm wearing awa', Jean, 

Get up, gudeman, it is fu' time. 

Like snaw when it is thaw, Jean ; 

The sun shines frae the lift sae hie; 

I'm wearing awa', Jean, 

Sloth never made a gracious end; 

To the land o' the leal. 

Gae, tak' your auld cloak about ye. 

There's nae sorrow there, Jean, 

There's neither cauld nor care, Jean, 

My cloak was ance a gude grey cloak. 

The day is aye fair, Jean, 

When it was fitting for my wear ; 

In the land o' the leal. 

But now it's scantly worth a groat, 
JFor I have worn't this thretty year: 

Ye were aye leal and true, Jean, 

Let's spend the gear that we ha'e won. 

Your task's ended now, Jean, 

We little ken the day we'll die ; 

And I'll welcome you 

Then I'll be proud, since I have sworn 

To the land o' the leal. 

To ha'e a new cloak about me. 

Our bonnie bairn's there, Jean, 

She was baith guid and fair, Jean, 

In days when our King Robert rang. 

And we grudged right sair 

His trews they cost but half a croun ; 

To the land o' the leal. 

He said they were a groat ower dear. 
And ca'd the tailor thief and loon: 

Then dry that tearfu' e'e, Jean, 

He was the king that wore a croun. 

My soul langs to be free, Jean, 

And thou the man of laigh degree: 

And angels wait on me 

It's pride puts a' the country doun ; 

To the land o' the leal. 

Sae tak' your auld cloak about ye. 

Now, fare ye weel, my ain Jean, 

This warld's care is vain, Jean, 

Ilka land has its ain lauch. 

Well meet and aye be fain 

Ilk kind o' corn has its ain hool ; 

In the land o' the leal. 

I think the world is a' gane wrang, 
When ilka wife her man wad rule: 

Do ye no see Rob, Jock, and Hab, 
As they are girded gajlantlie. 

^^2 mu eiOHi, 

While I sit huyklin i' the aese ?— 
I'll ha'e a new cloak about me. 

[The antiquity of this song is sufficiently proved 

Gudeman, I wat its thretty year 

from a fragment of it being quoted in Shakspeare's 

Sin' we did ane anither ken ; 

Iragcdy of Othello, published in 1611. Bishop 

And we ha'e had atween us twa 

Percy gives an English version of the song in his 

Of lads and bonnie lasses ten : 

Reliques of Ancient Poetry, admitting, at the 

Now tht y are women grown and men. 

^ same time, that the song is originally Scotch. 

1 wish and pray weel may they be ; 

The following is the Scottish version, which ap- 

If you would prove a gude husband. 

pears in Ramsay's Tea-Table Miscellany.] 

E'en tak' your auld cloak about ye. 

In winter, when the rain rain'd cauld. 

Bell, my wife, she lo'es nae strife. 

And frcst and snaw on ilka hill. 

But she would guide me, if she can ; 

And Boreas, wi' his blasts sae bauldj, 

And to maintain an easy life, 

Was threafnin' a' our kye to kill : ;; 

^ I aft maun jleld, though Im gudeman : 




ir«kt% t» b* firibi'd at fraoMnl hand, 
UnlMi y» gilt her »• tfa* pim: 

nn m kave air whm 1 1 
And tak* my aukl ek 

[Tan t*as lacoftwd by DarU B«d, aad piib- 
fchad ia tha waoad adittop «f lik buBmIIihi, im 
TlMra to aa eU ■oog eaUad "Jokai 

bat to soniawbat toe aoana te estnwt.] 

It Ml abaat tha MarttaoBaa tlm^ 

And a gay tfant It was thaa, 
Whm oar gndawlfe got pnddtngi to mak', 

Aad iha boU^d thn la tha pan. 

Tha wind mm eaaU blaw aoath aad north. 

And bltw Into tha floor: 
<iaoth oar godcmaa, to < 

Godamaa, a« y« may aM, 

An' It •hoa'd naa be barr^ thtob 
Ifa no ba barc^ fbr ata.** 

Thay naida a paetwo ' t waa u thai tofa. 

They made it Ann aad wan : 
That tha flrrt word whaa'cr ahoaid tpmk, 

Shoo'd riaa aad bar tha door. 

Then by there eaoM twa fMttoi 
At twohw a'dodi at aight. 

And they ooold aeithar an h 
^or coal 1 

Kow, whether to this a tirh maa*i hooaa. 

Or whether to it a poor ? 
But aevcr a word wad ane o' tfaaa apeak. 

For barftag o' tha door. 

And Arat they ate tha white p 

And thea they ate the blaek; 
The' muekto thought the gudawifc to banal*. 

Yet ae^ar a word ahe apak*. 

Thea nld the one onto the other, 

** Hera, maa, tak' ya my kalfc, 
2V» ya tak* aff the aald maaia baant, 

Aad IT kis tha gadawlfc.** 

*' Bat Ikan^ aaa watiT la the haaer. 

Aad wint alMll w« do Ihaa «" 
" WlMt alto y« at the paddia* bna. 

That betta lato the paa." 

Aad aa oafry naa woB hat 

«* wni ya Mn ny wMb botaa ny aaa, 

"GndeaMM, ya^w ^ahaa tlM tanaatt wort. 
Oat ap aad bM Hh daar." 



aai^ waa wvttiMi by BvaM fee 

M Ill, wfcan It to aat to aa old atr 

Olaa.** It to alto aaag to tha ato 
■■ ■M a g ¥ Oa n d h l lynw") 





', «f ato ahiaw I 

« Oada d^r to yoo,- baatol ha aenn baa; 

a bei«i aad ha Uawa o^ hto tftor. 

Bat whaa wID ha teMa Iha Iton Otoa > 


iBiMtonHy jtoaaa aia^ 

Bat wlHi caa thiak aaa a* Ikn Otoa ^ 


Hall giv aw gade hoador aaato toa 
Ba^ If ira ofdala«d I maoa tak* htaa, 
O, wha Willi get bat Tua Otoo^ 

My heart to ny BMa' glad a atoa t 

For thriea I dnw aaa withaat MBa*, 



The last Hallowe'en I was waukin' 4 

-^i&e HilamtiE m,ik. 

My drookit sark-sleeve, as ye ken ; 

His likeness cam' up the house staukin'. 

And the very gray breeks o' Tarn Glen. 

[Allan Cunningham.] 

Come, counsel, dear tittie, don't tarry ; 

NiTH, trembling to the reaper's sang. 

I'll gi'e you my bonnie black hen. 

Warm glitter'd in the harvest sun. 

Gif ye will advise me to marry 

And murmured down the lanesome glen. 

The lad I lo'e dearly, Tam Glen. 

Where a wife of wanton Avit did won. 
Her tongue wagged wi' unhaly wit. 

Unstent by kirk or gospel bann , 
An' aye she wished the kirkyard mools 

"E^t Cade. 

Green growing o'er her auld gudeman. 
Her auld gudeman drapped in at e'en. 

[From Eamsay's Tea-Table Miscellany. There 

Wi' harvest heuk— sau- toiled was he ; 

IS an older version of the same song given in 

Sma' was his cog and cauld his kail. 

Thomson's Orpheus Caledonius, pubUshed in 1725.] 

Yet anger never raised his e'e ; 
He blessed the little, and was blithe. 

The carle he cam' ower the craft. 

While spak' tlie dame, wi' clamorous tongue, 

Wi' his beard new-shaven ; 

sorrow cLap your auld beld pow. 

He looked at me as he'd teen daft,— 

And dance wi' ye to the mools, gudeman ! 

The carle trowed that I wad ha'e him. 

Hout awa' ! I winna ha'e him ! 

He hang his boilnet on the pin. 

Na, forsooth, I winna ha'e him ! 

And down he lay, his dool to drie ; 

For a' his beard new-shaven. 

While she sat singing in the neuk. 

Ne'er a bit o' me will ha'e him. 

And tasting at the barley bree. 
The lark, 'mid morning's siller gray. 

A siller brooch he ga'e me neist, 

That wont to cheer him warkwai-d gaun. 

To fasten on my curchie nookit ; 

Next morning missed amang the dew 

I wore 't a wee upon my breist. 

The blithe and dainty auld gudeman. 

But soon, alake! the tongue o't crookit; 

And sae may his ; I winna ha'e him ' 

The third mom's dew on flower and tree 

Na, forsooth, I winna ha'e hun ! 

'Gan glorious in the sun to glow. 

Twice-a-bairn's a lassie's jest; 

When sung the wanton wife to mark 

Sae ony fool for me may ha'e him. 

His feet gaun foremost o'er the knowe. 
The first flight o' the winter's rime 

The carle has nae fault but ane ; 

That on the kirkyard sward had faun. 

For he has land and dollars plenty , 

The wanton wife skiffed aff his grave. 

But, waes me for him, skin and bane 

A-kirking wi' her new gudeman. 

Is no for a plump lass of twenty. 

Hout awa', I winna ha'e him ! 

A dainty dame I wat was she. 

Na, forsooth, I winna. ha'e him ! 

High brent and burnished was her brow. 

What signifies his dirty riggs. 

'Mang lint-locks curling ; and her lips 

And oiish, without a man wi' them ? 

Twin daisies dawned through honey dew. 
And light and loesome in the dance. 

But should my cankert daddie gar 

When ha' was het, or kirn was won ; 

Me tak* him 'gainst my inclination. 

Her breasts twa drifts o* purest snaw. 

I warn the fumbler to beware 

In cauld December's bosom faun. 

That antlers dinna claim their station. 

Hout awa' ! I winna ha'e him ! 

But lang ere winter's winds blew by. 

Na, forsooth, I winna ha'e him ! 

She skirled in her lonesome bow ; 

I'm fleyed to crack the holy band. 

Her new gudeman, wi' hazle rung. 

Sae lawty says, I should na ha'e him. { 

^ Began to kame her wanton pow. 


SCOmra 80568. 

Toam fivw iHT ktat aad caold ha> pn. 
And dn%h and 4o«te wmnd tlw Blsht, 

^ In Mm wemi been tlHU aiy mM ■MMTiVa*, 
!>• nft b«a At' vMitr ite* I «M a MM, 

8be drMvy Ml IwMi wted im^ 
Her chMk B«^ dta^lad imo nMh; 

Unlfteppit, bMrifav OM « 
And hii—w hMintil n» 

And «• th* tans fli- frn* IMT MO, 

IM now, wtea tM Idffe or tM MMkM I fBS 
My wMlfcw, trtMtt nwd 1 1» Mdki' o^» 

I diBk at «B IV7 tiw fMte* «rt. 
Imtt tunuiond I mM'd egfcnr btm 

ItedilBfBadlMliatliMMHa**^ («lMr, 

] ir«<r lidm timt b vmn. Ml* n 8t kr tte hdrd. 

Mjr nafi new Monv fer tiM taOtai' o^i 
I MyMd«M«n*bMn,MidMf Miy^lBttvywd; 

An* Ite M* OMtr In diMMi 0^ llw ivonia' ot* 
I Kowrii ri oo m ig«i l iwM th i r ,oriHnd,qrMM>wM t, 
[WniTTBii by A. Scott, to tht tan* «r "TIm fl Or bnnld n^ft^ wtum, wl* hU, mam, m alMt, 

®f^f flfiOif ;^afmn. 

BMkand tb« Wm Ptekto IVm."] 

In now a gndt A«nMr, I>> mm 

An' my hmrt iV* lonva Bfli» n 

An' I te'o MTvnnti M Mr aoMMi 

■ I'M vlmrln' 
I. lot. 


My ftiM li n MMV MM, Um hl|k on a Mnir, 
Tbo Mair-eoalB an' plt«M» aft ifeM at my door. 
An' whna Urn Ay lown I'm ayi mio o' • •bow y, 
To MolMM My bwd tor Um plowln' ot. 

LccM Mt on tlM maOln Ifcat^ to-n to my •harr. 

It Mbi MX MMkb bowM tor iho Mwin' oti 
I^ MX bMM aowM fbr pMlvn, an* BMlr. 

And a telnly bit bog te Iha Mawln* of. 
A iiiMw an'nbliiit iii My iimiiliia biiMi gi^M, 
l*vt a oamio «M wttt to dant whan I ptanM, 
Twa balmlM, twn MOans. tbnt abrtp owor tbo has. 

An* tboy*!! aoon mn aoitet at tbt pb»wln' o'U 

My bigsan Hand* rwwt on tblt oooth ilopln' bin. 

An' tho nn tbinM mo bonnUy bMtmln' on'l. 
An* paot My door troti a dMr piattttn* iflt, 
Fna tbo lod^ w4iar» tlM wOd dneka aio «wlM> 
An' on to gn«i banks, «k tho fay MMMM dayi. 
My wlflo trtpo banfcot. a-blM«hlm iMr daoi. 
An' on tbo dMr bimIuw wl* raptaro I gOM, 
WbUt I whtatlo and ring at tbo ptowla* ot. 

To rank amang fluncn I hatt maeUt prldi^ 
Bvt I naona ^Mak high whan I'm toUin* et. 

How brawUa I strut on my ilMltio to fido, 
Wr a nunpit to abow ftir tbo oelUn' o'U 



I* ox 

An* on tko dowfAgn. whaa tend hMitaMM bkiw 
Fn* Mag 1* tho ipoMo I'D bo vWwtai* o*t. 

An* JWI tiM rado Moot In My iMlHthMklt ba*. 
Whan Mds ara OMfd np ftno tbo plowin* ox 

My beulo woo wtto. tbo balraloo, an* MO. 

TmdoyoiOMtlMooonlo'toaiViyo^^ (bo^ 

An* woU MM la gndo kopM OP tbo pkfwln' ox 

jbSlUK IttD SlRft* 

[Wa«TTMilnl808 (dartiVttw alami oTa f 
la iiibia)by AiinaaweooTT, nowor rMontfy brth« 
' - V tai Iko parUb or Dowdon, 

Ml M*nr In tboir wlHtaM Bko oooc 

In wlntor, whan doop woo tbo g 
And niehro gloomy eanopy opiind, 

AoU Hymon oot lontln* bb enttto* 
And lewiln* bk bntloan kr bal I 


Auld Janet, his wife, out a-gazing, '^ There footmen and yeomen paradin'. 

To lock in the door was her care; 

To scour off in dirdum were seen ; 

She, seeing our signals a-blazing, 

And wives and young lasses a* sheddin' 

Came rinnin* in ryving her hair: 

The briny saut tears frae their een. 

0, Symon, the Frenchies are landit ! 

Then aflf wl' his bonnet got Symie, 

Gae look man, and slip on your shoon ; 

And to the commander he gaes. 

Our signals I see them extendit. 

Quo' he. Sir, I mean to gae wi' ye. 

Like red risin* rays frae the moon. 

And help ye to lounder our faes : 

"What a plague ! the French landit ! quo' Symon, 

I'm auld, yet I'm teuch as the wire. 

And clash gaed his pipe to the wa' : 

Sae we'll at the rogues ha'e a dash. 

Faith, then, there's be loadin* and primin'. 

And fegs, if my gun winna fire. 

Quo' he, if they're landit ava. 

I'll turn her but-end and I'll thrash. 

Our youngest son's in the militia, 

Well spoken, my hearty old hero ! 

Our eldest grandson's volunteer: 

The captain did smilin' reply ; 

O' tlie French to be fti' o' the flesh o'. 

But begg'd he wad stay till to-morrow. 

I too i' the ranks shall appear. 

Till day-licht should glent in the sky. 

His waistcoat-pouch fill'd he wi' pouther. 

What reck, a' the stoure cam' to naething. 

. And bang'd down his rusty auld gun ; 

Sae Symon, and Janet his dame. 

His bullets he pat in the other. 

Halescart, frae the wars, without skaithing. 

Gaed, bannin' the French, away hame. 

Then humpled he out in a hiury, 

While Janet his courage bewails. 
And cried out. Dear Symon, be wary ! 

#S) mm tiiti 0"J)» 

And teuchly she hung by his tails. 

Let be wi' your kindness, cried Symon, 

[From a collection of Jacobite Melodies, pub- 

Nor vex me wi' tears and your cares ; 

lished at Edinburgh in 1823. This lamentation is 

For, now^ to be ruled by a woman. 

said to relate to an incident connected with the 

Nae laurels shall crown my grey hairs. 

massacre of the Macdonalds of Glenco, in 1691.J 

Then hear me, quo' Janet, I pray thee. 

Oh, was not I a weary wight ? 

I'll tend thee, love, livin' or deid. 

Oh ono chri oh ! oh ono chri oh ! 

And if thou should fa', I'll dee wi' thee. 

Maid, wife, and widow, in one night ! 

Or tie up thy wounds if thou bleed. 

Oh ono chri oh ! &c. 

Quo' Janet, O, keep frae the riot ! 

When in my soft and yielding arms. 

Last nicht, man, I dreamt ye was deid ; 

Oh ono chri oh ! &c. 

This aught days I tentit a pyot 

When most I thought him free from harms. 

Sit chatfrin' upon the house-held. 

Oh ono chri oh I Sec. 

As yesterday, workin' my stockin'. 

Even at the dead time of the night. 

And you vd' the sheep on the hill. 

Oh ono chri oh 1 &c. 

A muckle black corbie sat croaking; 

They broke my bower, and slew my knight. 

I kend it forebodit some ill. 

Oh ono chri oh ! &c. 

Hout, cheer up, dear Janet, be hearty; 

With ae lock of his jet black hair. 

For, ere the neist sun may gae down. 

Oh ono chri oh 1 &c. 

Wha kens but I'll shoot Bonaparte, 

I'll tye my heart for ever mair; 

And end my auld days in renown. 

Oh ono chri oh * &c. 

Syne off in a hurry he stumpled. 

Nae sly-tongued youtli, or flattering swain, 

Wi' bullets, and pouther, and gun ; 

Oh ono chri oh ! &c. 

Af8 curpin auld Janet, too, humpled 

Shall e'er untye thU knot again : 

Awa' to the neist neebour-toun : ^ 

A Oh ono chri oh ! &c. 


Thtet, MDI, 4«r ytrnth, that bcM 

Oh OBO chil oh ! tte* 
ttot pmt lar aai^t »«• hMm • 



®t)e €EraberIttn!U«man« 

[Tnt h uH Miroai ud gnphk ptea !• ftonalty 
Meiibad to J A KM y. king or aeotkad, (born laS : 
ated 1619). Jmdm V. wu kaown oOm to go la 
di«niw> •nd Indolfo In froUoi rimllar to tho ooo 

Th* ■Im* «M «Md4, ht «M aaif , 


■■■■i w tfct— Xboifat. 
hm 1 mm , mjM . Piaiw b> hit! 

Tn* pawkto nli AMI* «MW 0^ Ite l« 
%iri' mooy gate tftai and di^B to mo. 

Will jroo lodg« • Mj poor man ? 
Tho niebt «ru oanld, the earlo wtm wat. 
And down ajront the Ingle be tat; 
MydOBghter^ eboathen he ■gan to dap, 

And oadgUy ranted and «ng. 

O wQfw ! (too* he, wen I ae ftve. 
As ftnt when I mw thit eoontrle. 
How Uythe and merry wad I bo I 

And I wad never think tang. 
He grew canty, and the grew Ada { 
But little did her aoU mlany hm 
-What thir ilSe twa togethtr were MgnnB* 

When wooing tbejr were ne thraag. 

And O ! qoo' he, an' y were aa biMk 
Ae e^ the crown of my daddyli hat. 
Tie I wad Uy thee by my back. 

And awa' wl' me thon thoold gang. 
And O I qat/ ehe, an' I were at while, 
Ae ew the enaw lay on the dfte, 
I'd deed me braw and faMly like. 

And awa' wl' thee I would gang. 

Between the twa wae made a plot; 
They raiee a wee betare the eodi, 
Aad wttUy they ehot the kKk, 

And fhet to the bent are they gaaa. 
Up In the mom the aald wift ralee, 
Ao«! at her Idrnre pat oa bn> daiee : 
Byne to the Mrvaafi bod the gaaa. 


O Or gv fMe, aad ly gar ita, 

Aad haete ye flad theee tiaytotfl agala } 

r» Aeli be hwat, aad heM be ehOa, 

The w Miifti * gabet huul e watm, 
tone fade apo' hone, aoiBe taa a fit. 
The wttt wia wad, aad oirt «^ IHT wHi 
flha aoB^d aa png, aar fit ODa^d the dt. 

Bat aya aha aanns aa4 *t baaa'd. 


The tana wfl 

To lo» her t» aye, he ga% her hit akh, 

Qoer aha. Te have thee I wffl be kith, 



wr flBBk aad kni rn wla year bnad, 
Aad ipladlea aad whoeiM tar tiMBB wha aaad, 

To eany the g 
111 bow my kg, aad craok ay kaaa^ 
Aad draw a bkMk doat a^ mj oX 
A orlppla or bllad th^r «« ••' iH. 

While wa AaD be MMny aad ala^ 




S? Tho' brighter the landscape, and blander the air. 
In climes that look straight to the sun, 

«< If ^ Uul if^ nm UmxJ' 

The dearest enjoyments of home are not there. 
The chat and the laugh by the hearth's cheering 

[Edward Polin, Paisley.— Here first printed.] 

When day and its laboxirs are done. 

It's true, frlen's, it's true. 

And thus, like the snow-cover'd hills of their land, 

An' I'm wae tne confess. 

Its sons may seem rugged and rude, 

That our joy micht be mair, 

Yet gentler in heart is each man of the band, 

An' our grief miclit be less; 

More kindly in feeling, more open in hand. 

But we aye get a moutlifu'. 

Than all whom the tropics include. 

Tliough we wliiles kenna wliar. 

Sae, ! frien's, be tlianlcfu'— 

" It's weel it's nae waur." 

We've a' dreet tiie girnin' 

** ^ %mh ©I^ ftoEg/* 

0' cauld gloomin' care. 
Yet 0' hope's moniin' sang 

[Edward Polin, Paisley.— Here first printed.] 

Ha'e we no luid our share ? 

Though the cary he dark whiles. 
There's aye some bit star. 

I HAVK wander'd afar 'neath stranger skies. 

And have revell'd amid their flowers. 

Tae keep us reflectin' 

I have lived in the light of Italian eyes. 

" It's weel it's nae waur." 

And dream'd in Italian bowers, 
While the wond'rous strains of their sunny cliraa 

We've sicken'd in sorrow 

Have been trill 'd to enchant mine ears , 

At parting to-day, 
But the meeting to-morrow 

But, oh ! how I longed for the song and the time 

When my heart could respond with its tears. 

Can chase it away ; 

Then sing me a song, a good old song. 

An' if some frien's ha'e wither'd 

Not the foreign, the learn'd, the grand,— 

Sin' we were afar. 

But a simple song, a good old song 

We ken whar their banes lie— 

Of my own dear father-land. 

" It's weel it's nae waur." 

I have heard, with the great, and the proud, and 

Our ills ha'e been mony— 

the gay. 

We've a' had our share, 

All, all they would have me adore. 

An' nae doubt we've whiles thocht 

Of that music divine that, enraptur'd, they say. 

That nane could ha'e mair; 

Can be equall'd on earth never more ; 

But yet there are thousan's 

And it may be their numbers indeed are divine, 

Mair wretched by far, 

Though they move not my heart through mine 

Then, ! frien's, be thankfti*— 


" It's weel it's nae waur." 

But a ballad old of the dear *' langsyne" 
Can alone claim my tribute of tears. 

Then sing me a song, &c. 


I have come from a far and a foreign clime 

To mine own loved haunts once more, 

With a yearning for all of my childhood's timij; 

[Thomas Smibekt.] 

And the dear home-sounds of yore i 

Thk hills of my country are mantled with snow. 

And here if there yet be love for i:ie. 

Yet, oh ! I but love them the more ; 

! away with those strangei lays. 

More noble they seem in the sun's setting glow. 

And now let my only welcome be 

Than all that the vales of the Southron can show, 

An old song of my boyhood days. 

When gay wiih the summer's whole store. ^ 

' Then sing me a song, &c. 



sooTTisu ■ojroa 

Saints SaMc. 

II I1iawtolikanMll«>ib«|. 

[Taa Mlowlng mmg, whkh Brmin «nt to 
Tbomoa'keoDectSoBiWMiiicidyaa fanpiovamenk 
•ad •steoilon of » wag whkh h* had pnvkNwIj 
oontrlbatnl to JohnMoM Xowam, calbd ** Th» 
OudeiMr wl* hii piddl*." ** Xtadnlgr Davte," mjt 
Allan CDnnlngfaam, *' k Um naiMor an oM aMRjr 
•ong from which Bonu haa bo ri u wtd noUdng 
nv* the titi* and the mcMaia. It rriatae the 
Advcntore of DavM Wllllanuon, a pr eae h i r of 
the dajrt of the covenant: he wm panned tgr IM> 
adl*e diagoone, and HcMnf a leA^e la the booee 
of Obe ii/u ec e , the deroat Udjr pot the man of 
God taitoa bed hMde her daaghtor, to hUe hha 
hum the men of BrtteL The letnm whhli the 
rpTvend fentlemaa made ftir thie Is mC fcrth very 
graphkalljr In the eld vefwe. Tkt Tonng lady 

' Being panaed bjr a dragoon. 
Within my bed he was laid down. 
And weel I wat he wae worth hie room. 
My donee, n.y dainty Davto !' ** 

'*The tone of Dainty DaTk," a^« Mr. 8len* 
hmue, " le Ineertad In PUyfcr«l'e Bandng Maetor. 
Ant pabtkhed te 1697. Itkckar. thei«ftMa,tlMU 
tiieie wae a eong nnder thk title, long belH* the 
well-known ttovy ahoat the ftet. SiavU William* 
•on and the danghtv ofthe lain! of ChenytNto.*^ 

Now roey May ooroee In wl' flowen. 
To deck her gay green birken bowcfi. 
And now come in my happy honn. 
To wander wi' my Davk. 

Meet me on the warfodt knewo. 
Dainty Davk, dahity Davkt 

There 111 qtend the day wi' jron. 
My ain dear dainty Darie. 

The erjfwtal waten round n« fh'. 
The meny birds are lorert a'. 
The aoented b r e e se s round as blaw, 
I wt* nv Dia*k. 

When porple morning starts the hare. 
To steal upon her early Aire, 
Then throogb the dews I will repair. 
To meet my ftkithAi' Dark. 

^\)t Gartout felt' ii$ yaiMe. 


between ** DalB^ Utty," aitd ** Tlw Oai 
hittor Bonaa aoBlHha 
i%M— III. ItkadaptodtoanoMt 

Td dsek her gay gi««i'«i 
* Then^ are hkh 

The gw^'Mr wf hb paMb. 
The eryelal waton flSiMly li'l 
The metty hMi an loean a* t 
The aoentod toeane noad Mm Uaw- 

The gard*Ber wi* hk paMlB. 

When parpk momliv starts the han^ 
To steal opoo her eaify Au«, 
Than thrDi«h the dcwt he HMM 
The gnd'Mr wt* hk paldla. 


ILttdts VTai^sf. 

[VBMi the am enl. «r ■■Mi^^i Tsa-Thhk 
Mkerihuiy, when H appaon wMb the mark Q, 
sigttUyiag that It k an okl song with addlt*oae. 
Rcpwdhig thk song, Locd W oo dh oo s s l es saysi 
" I han been hilbnaed, en good aathorfty, thai 
the wosdi, as prlntsd in Ramsay^ eeUeetks^ 
wen writton by the Bon. Doiioam Poaaas, hw< 
preeMent .of the Oourt of Se ss l D n ." Itkglnnbi 
Bamaay to the tone of ** Dainty OaYk."] 

Wmui Ibps, In safl Italian vene. 

Ilk ftdr aae^ eea and brvkt nhaai 

Whik aaagi abenad, and wit k « 



Hut neither darts nor arrows, here, I 


Venus nor Cupid, shall appear ; 

Although with these fine sounds, I swear. 

^gtrnw Mt^i^ie* 

The maidens are delighted. 

I was aye telling you, 

Lucky Nancy, Lucky Nancy, 

[This old ditty, to its own tune, appeared in 

Auld springs wad ding the new. 

Herd's collection, 1776.] 

But ye wad never trow me. 

Symon Brodie had a cow : 

Nor snaw with crimson will 1 mix, 

The cow was lost, and he couldna find herr 

To spread upon ray lassie's cheeks ; 

When he had done what man could do, 

And syne the unmeaning name prefix. 

The cow cam' hame, and her tail behind her. 

Miranda, Cloe, Phillis ; 

Honest auld Symon Brodie, 

I'll fetch nae simile frae Jove, 

Stupid auld doitit bodie ! 

:My height of ecstacy to prove, 

I'll awa' to the north countrie. 

Nor sighing— thus— present my love 

And see my ain dear Symon Brodie. 

With roses eke and lilies. 

Symon Brodie had a wife. 

But, stay— I had amaist forgot 

And, wow! but she was braw and bonnie. 

My mistress, and my sang to boot. 

She took the dish-clout aff the bulk. 

And that's an unco fiiut, I wot; 

And preen'd it to her cockernonie. 

But, Nancy, 'tis nae matter : 

Honest auld Symon Brodie, &e. 

Ye see I clink my verse vA' rhyme. 

And ken ye that atones the crime , 

For bye, how sweet my numbers chime, 

And glide away like water ! 

Now ken, my reverend sonsy fair. 
Thy runkled cheeks, and lyart hair. 

^|e Blgrt^wie UtiML 

Thy half-shut een, and hcddling air. 

Are a' my passion's fuel ; 

[This piece of satiric humour was first pub- 

Nae skyring gowk, my dear, can see. 

lished in Watson's collection of Scottish poems. 

Or love, or grace, or heaven in thee ; 

1706, and its authorship has generally been ascrib- 

Yet thou hast charms enew for me ; 

ed to Francis Semple, Esq. of Bel trees, in Ren- 

Then smile, and be na cruel. 

frewshire, who lived about the middle of the 17th 

Leeze me on thy snawy pow. 

century. Of late years, however, it has been 

Lucky Nancy, Lucky Nancy ; 

claimed as the composition of Sir William Scott 

Dryest wood will eithest low. 

of Thirlestane, in Selkirkshire, ancestor of the pre- 

And, Nancy, sae will ye now. 

sent lord Napier. His claim is only supported on 
the faith of an unbroken tradition in the Napier 

Troth, I have sung the sang to you. 

family. Sir William was married in 1699 to Eli- 

Which ne'er anither bard wad do ; 

zabeth, mistress of Napier, and died in 1725. T%w 

Hear, then, my charitable vow. 

years after his death, a collection of his Latin 

Dear venerable Nancy : 

poems was printed at Edinburgh.] 

But, if the world my passion wrang. 

And say ye only live m sang. 

Fy let us a' to the bridal. 

Ken, I despise a slandering tongue, 

For ther'll be liltin' there ; 

And sing to please my fancy. 

For Jock's to be married to Maggie, 

Tjeeze me on, &c. 

The lass wi' the gowden hair. 
And there'U be langkale and pottage, 
And bannocks o' barley meal ; 

And there'll be good saut hen-in*. 
To relish a cogue o' gude yill. 
; Fy let us a', &c. 



And tbef^ te Chodk tht 

▲od wm wl* tiM mkkte i 
And tberaH te 1km Um U« 

And Aadraw tiM tiaktar. 
And thmll bt bow-kgslt 

Wl' thaml 
And thtrrn tm Nin ctiwlrtl 

▲ad Uwito, the labd •* I 

Aad phMki».tei^ Wat cf tte flA { 
:teppOT-aaMd fyuMto, Md OOM*. 
Thai wlat la Um bam ar IIM kUL 

Tha» la wT blMk BmI* dM Mol ( 
Wl* oMCvBa* unit, aad llhM*, 
Tha iMi that iUi aft ea th» ilooL 

Aad thMvH b* Jattea Vadowil*. 

Aad bUakla' ditft Butaia UmOtgi 
WV flM-tafglt ihalnili fcnj Lawrk. 

Aad $imi^fi»^mu^4 flrtai Mi*. 
Aad thmH b* bapp»» M pyd Vaacte. 

Aad fldiy-awad PhMrrto by aamr. 
Mack Maadk, aad &t-hisstt Orink, 

Th* laM wt' Um g 

Aad hit flalklt wt* Jmmr Bril. 
Aad mitltthlna<d Moafo Maaivlt, 

Tht hMt that WM tUnwr htaMriL 
Thtrt ladi aad hunt la pcaillagi 

Win tatt la tht hMTt c tht ha'i 
On qrt>o««i Mid ratAult, aad tarlliu. 

That art faalth toddta aad taw. 


And «Mth o' gudt ftbboda o* tlnii, 
PowModie. and diammoek, aad oowdlt. 

And ealler aowi^btC OB a piMt: 
Aad thcrell bt parlq^ aad b«eUt% 

Aad whjrttat aad iptldlnt taew. 
And ringtt ■http-heada aad a hag^ 

And aciMiUpt to tap tm jn tftm. 

And theiv'U bt gndt 

And wmcntp and Ihritt, aad bapt, 
Wl* twatt aad watlt tia ptd paindMt. 

And teandjr la ttonpt aad la oMptt 
Aad thtrrn bt nMat-kaO aad kaalotkt, 

Wl* gldak to tap tai yt riw; 
And raatta to rottt oa a biaadtr, 

or llonka that wm tahte alha. 

WtH riw ap aad dtaM IB «• da^ 

For Jockt to bt aMtittd to M»§gk», 

Tha hMi wf tha •tvtfaa telr. 


[" HALunr-rAia.- to tht taat aT «* Pjr. Itt at 
a* to tht bridal." «aa wiltlaa by Ibt aatotaaato 
Boaaar raaaotM*. IhtitlUlaiaMiil piiaaitui cf 
BHrna.aad im prtatod la tevM r 
UoaoTlTTL HaBow^Mr li a Mr b 

Tnnu^ tartk ar bnw Joakka aod Jaaalto 

Ooaaai iwl tiatlll lato tht hir, 
WHh rlbboaa oa tMr aeehwaaala^ 

Thai Wmia «aa Had to hb brida I 
Tht powalt waa aa^v bal 

Vt aM WUUa bMklt Mt bnw t 
Aad flaaitjr ht aM la tht aWMMt, 

Aad hM« al Iba ll«aar did aa*. 
Thtia aaa niaidli, thai aaal laaad Ma haalt. 

Ha toak Iha plal-ttoap la ya anM, 
And hagptd ll.aad Mid. Ttaath ihty^ Maalt. 

That loa aa a cuid-lhlh«^ balra. 

Thtia WM WattK Uw aiabkuid kddb. 
That rldH oa tha boaala flap eewt. 

With twotd bp hk aMt Uht a eadlt 
To driM la tha thttpaad tht aavt. 

Hk deahltl Mt waal it did tl hha. 


With hair piMthaMd. hat. aad a kaihtr. 

Pak Wattk ht Ml mi ihi miiij. 

Aad bitaftl a* tht baaa ki hk dktak 
Hk platok Ml oat o* tha haMHt. 

Aad wn« a' badaahad wl* dkt, 
Tha Mk thcp eon' roaad htai la tiaalani 

Sgma kaeh, aiid ariad. Lad. WM la hart > 




But fH>ut wad let naebody steer him, '■ 

^ My daddle '8 a delver o' dykes. 

He aye \\-as sae waaton and skeigh ; 

My mother can card and spin. 

The packmen's stands he overturned them. 

And I'm a fine fodgel lass. 

And garred a' the Jocks stand abeigh ; 

And the siller comes linkin' in j 

Wi' sneerin' behind and before him. 

The siller comes linkin' in. 

For sic is the mettle o* brutes. 

And it is fu' fair to see. 

Puir Wattie, and wae's me for him, 

And fifty times, wow ! wow ! 

Was fain to gang haine in his boots. 

What ails the lads at me ? 

Now it was late in the e'enJng, 

"VVTienever our Bawty does bark. 

And boughting-time Avas drawing near; 

Then fast to the door 1 rin. 

The lasses had stanched their greening 

To see gin ony young spark 

Wi' fouth C braw apples and beer. 

• Will licht and venture but in ; 

There was LiUie, and Tibbie, and Sibbie, 

But never a ane will come in. 

And Ceiey on the spindle could spin. 

Though mony a ane gaes by ; 

Stood glovsTin' at signs and glass winnocks. 

Syne ben the house I rin. 

But deil a ane bade them come in. 

And a weary wicht am I. 

Gude guide us ! saw ye e'er the like o't? 

When I was at my first prayers. 

See, yonder's a bonnie black swan ; 

I pray'd but anes i' the year. 

It glow'rs as it wad fain be at us ; 

I wish'd for a handsome young lad. 

What's jon tlmt it hauds in its hand ? 

And a lad wi' muckle gear. 

Awa', daft gowk, cries Wattie, 

When I was at my neist prayers. 

They're a* but a ruckle o' sticks ; 

I pray'd but now and then. 

See, there is Hill -Jock and auld Hawkie, 

I fash'd na my head about gear. 

And yonder's Mess John and auld Nick. 

If I got a handsome young man. 

Quoth Maggie, Come buy us our fairin' ; 

Now I am at my last prayers. 

And Wattie richt sleely could tell, 

I pray on baith nicht and day. 

I think thou'rt the flower o' the clachan,— 

And, oh, if a beggar wad come. 

In trowth, now, I'se gi'e thee mysell. 

With that same beggar I'd gae. 

But wha wad ha' e'er thocht it o' him. 

And, oh, and what '11 come o' me! 

That e'er he had rippled the lint ? 

And, oh, and what '11 I do ! 

Sae proud was he o' his Maggie, 

That sic a braw lassie as I 

Though she was baith scaulie and squint. 

Should die for a wooer, I trow ! 

^!k|ttt KaEC|}, 

^J^ MnUx 0Ht hn%. 

[This appeare in the first vol. of Ramsay's Tea- 

Table Miscellany (1724) without any mark. The 

reader will discover in it the origin of the English 

[By J. Maynk, author of " Logan Braes." See 

Bong, " Nobody coming to marry me." It is givea 

page 24.] 

in Ramsay to the tune of " Kirk wad let me be."] 

The winter sat lang on the spring o' the year. 

It's I^a'e seven braw new gouns, 

Our seedtime was late, and our mailing was dear; 

And ither seven better to mak' ; 

^ly mither tint her heart when she look'd on us a', 

And yet, for a' my new gouns, 

And we thought upon them that were farest awa' j 

My wooer has turn'd his back. 

! were they but here that are farest awa' ! 

Besides, I have seven milk-kye. 

! were they but here that are dear to us a' I 

And Sandy he has but three ; 

Our cares would seem light and our sorrows but 

And yet, for a' my gude kye. 


The laddie winna ha'e me. { 

^ If they were but here that are far frae us a'l 


And DM MM ai ham* tiM dnil pro^Kct to ekMr, 
Oar Johaal* bM wrfttaB, fra* tkr awa' parti, 
▲ MMr tiMU H^tena and hands ap our iMarla. 
Ha i^a, ** Mj d«ar mhlMr, Cboosfa I to awm*. 
In lo«« and aflbelioa I'm alill wl' |a a' t 
Whoa 1 ha** a telnK, jrrw a|« taa-a a ba', 
Wr plMtgr to toap oat tha fkoat and tlM mmm." 

M y tolttor. a'wijogr'd at Ihli aha^t la tor tcato, 
B^ tto balm ttot ato doatad oa aarly aad lata, 
Ol'ai thanbi, night aad daj, to tto Givar oT a'. 
Ttonli baen naethlng onwathy o" hbn ttort awa*! 
Ttoa, tort ia to tton that art fttr Itot na a', 
Tto fHand that ne'er ftUl'd at, thooth krtatawa'l 
Health, peaea, and pio tp g i ty, wait on at a' ! 
Aad a bijrtto oomin* hamc to tto Mend thatt awa*! 

FU age ca' in. 

(CoMrotKD \>j Diraiti, in honoar of hit Jaaa. 
Tto title of tto tane it, '* I'U gang naa malk to 
yon toan," babag tto Ant line of aa old ballad, 

gang naa mair to yon toon, 
J, never a' my MJb again ; 
I'D ne'er gae baek to yea tooa. 
To tetk anither wUb again.'* 
me a|»pean to Atf back aa in Oawaid^ CUa- 
..«.»« Podwt Oompanlotu It wat ul— lad to 
to a great fltvoorite with Geotta IT. daiii« hie 
rMt to Xdlabargh in 18&] 

I'u. aye oa' in by yon toaa. 
And by yon garden graen again ; 

111 aye oa' in by yon toon. 
And tee my bonnle Jeaa afala. 

Tberet nana thall ben, therttnaae than gwiai, 
What bringt ma back tto gate again. 

Bat the, my flUrtat IblthAt' but: 
Ajod ttowiint we thall meet again. 

Sto'U wander by tto aikan trie. 

Wton tryttin time dmwi near again > 
And when her lorely ftmn I tee, 

O haith, tha't doubly dear agaiiu 

111 aye ca' In by yon toan. 

And by jron garden green again ; 
111 aye oa' in by yon toan. 

And ate my boaalt Jeaa again. j 

^, f9at 5f bt)B*K. 

ITntt It 


Xtq. or imiilawaUa, AyraUm. wtw I 

tfan to imaiawijllna la 17M^ wton i 

thirty ytanafiva. Bariililia aa— 


O, OTATya whalla yea tooa, 
Ta an tto a>alag aoa opaa i 

Vow toply dowB yoa gay grMa Aaw, 
8to waadeea by yoa tpiaadlag tiae; 

Haw blait, ya flowrn, that raoad tor Maw 
Ta aaaak tto glaaaat «^ tor flf^ 

Bow Mial* yt Mrdtoy that taaad tor tlag, 

Am4 • «ii^iipr<ii !■■ ^mm* 

WMtoat ay leva, ael a* «w akanat 
or PMadtat aoohl yWd moioy I 

Bat gl% ma Jaaalt la aqr anaa. 
Aad walaaaw Laptadm dnaria aky. 

My aata wad to a kear^ bowtr, 
Thoagh raging wtnttr laat tta alri 

And tto a ioir«|y UtUe flower. 
That I wad tent and ahelttr then. 

O awaet it tto in yoa toon, 

Tto tinliing tunt gaaa down opon ; 
Tto daanat mald't ia yon toun, 

Uk aittiitg beam e^ thooe apon. 

If aagiy Aito to awom toy ftie. 
And toflbring 1 am doom'd to bear. 

Ill oarekn qalt aught dn below ; 
Batapan,eh! sptunwr ' ' 



For, while life's dearest blood runs warm, ^ 

i Dear lassie, keep thy heart aboon. 

My thoughts frae her shall ne'er depart; 

For I lia'e wair'd my winter's fee. 

For, as most lovely is her form. 

I've coft a bonnie silken gown. 

She has the truest, kindest heart. 

To be a bridal gift for thee. 
And sooner shall the hills fa' down. 

And mountain -high shall stand ths sea. 
Ere I'd accept a gowden crown. 

#, iim imt Mm. 

To change that love 1 bear for thee. 

[Written by the late John- Sim of Paisley, to 

the tune of " Banks of Spey."] 

! Miou hast seen the lily fair. 
All bathed in morning dew ; 

^f Jac^'bltie^ ibg Hame. 

And thou hast seen the lovely rose. 
Just op'ning to the view. 

[This song appears in the fourth volume of 

The lily bathed in morning dew. 

Johnson's Museum, and there is every reason to 

The rose so lair to see. 

believe, that it is a production of Burns's, founded 

Are not more pure than her I love, 

on some older Jacobitical effusion. The tune of 

Are not more fair than thee. 

" Ye Jacobites by name " is very beautiful, and 
has been adapted to several songs, but to none 

But soon before time's withering blast. 

with more success than the one entitled "My 

The rose and lily fade ; 

love '8 in Germanie," given elsewhere.] 

Nor even will beauty such as thine 

Outlive its djirkeuing shade. 

Yk Jacobites by name, give an ear, give an ear ; 

Yet there is that within thy breast, 

Ye Jacobites by name, give an ear ; 

Will rutliless time defy. 

Ye Jacobites by name. 

A mind will bloom v.-hen beauty fades. 

Your fautes I will proclaim. 

Will flourish in the sky. 

Your doctrines I maun blame— 
You shall hear. 

What is right, and what is wrang, by the law, by 

# ^att 1 xm. 

the law ? 

AVhat is right, and what is WTang, by the law ?- 

[Robert Tanxahii.i,.] 

What is right, and what is wrang ? 
A short sword, and a lang. 

sAiB I rue the witless wish. 

A weak arm, and a Strang 

That gar'd me gang wi' you at e'en; 

For to draw. 

And sair I rue the birken bush. 

That screen'd us with its leaves sae green. 

And though ye vow'd ye wad be mine. 

What makes heroic strife, fam'd afar? 

The tear o' grief aye dims my e'e. 

What makes heroic strife ? 

For, O ! I'm fear'd that I may tyne 

To whet th' assjissin's knife. 

The love that ye ha'e promis'd me ! 

Or hunt a parent's life 
Wi' bluidie war. 

While ithers seek their e'ening sports. 

I wander, di>wie, a' my lane. 

Tlien let your schemes alone, in the state, in the 

For when I join their glad resorts. 


Their daffing gi'es me meikle piiin. 

Then let your schemes alone in the state. 

Alas! it was'na sae shortsyne. 

Then let your schemes alone. 

When a' my nights were spent wi' glee ; 

Adore the rising sun. 

But, : I'm fear'd that I may tyne 

And leave a man undone 

The love that ye ha'e promis'd me. ; 

; To his fate. 


woomm BonotL 

Wbt Nabob. | £22? 

nd, aad ■abrtJng ptodaeoon to to bt ftMtad la 

Motvy, with Um nam* " SI iM Buuitar' attMhc4 
•i Hm aathoiwf : but who ** Mi« Bmlnr «ai^ 
what part of tU eoaatiy th* hrionfid to, aad 
whMhtf aha waa Uvlns or daad, waia t aiiMo iM 
whSch Boaa or v«7 kw eoold anrwar, aatll tha 
nwnt pobUoatkiB ofa vohuM with tho I bU aalii g 
Utia, " Tho PoatkMl Worka of Mtoa flaaaaaa 
Blaadra, 'thamaaaorCkuDbarlaadt'Bowfcr tha 
§m ttano ooOaetod by Banfy Lonaialo, M. D^ 
wtth a PraaMO, Manolr. aad NoIh, bf VMrtak 
MaxweU: Idtehaffh, ISO.** Pron tUa alafm 
littla Tolum* wa ham, that Saawaa IWamliawaa 
» DutiTe of Oambariaad, aatf bom at Oudaw 
Hall, aboat aU milca fhim ChriMa. o« tha llth oT 
laaaA>7, 1747; that har Aithor waa a laapaiubla 
fctitlatnan of tha eoaatj, WUUaa Blamtaa, Biq. 
of tho Oaka : that har nothar dkd aaify tai lUb, aad 
Suaaaaa waa broi^ht ap ddaOjr with* baaovolaiit 
and ridk aant, Mia. atopaoaof Th adt wead t that 
in 1707 har oidaat dalw luah SMrriad Oahiaai 
Oiaham «r Oartaww, jJtot whiali paalod aha 
I poavoB of har tnno at har 

yean of hot liti wara aflUetad bf iatan health, 
andthatahodladatChrUatooa tha fth of Aprtl, 
17H»thaatoof > » Hy o» wu . " Sho had," ae- 
•ordlag to har Mopaphar Mr. Maswall, who tea 

fiartiealan of har Mft ftom 

Cut djrtng awajr, '*a giaeaf 

abo?« tha mlddla aiaa, and a oooni 

aUfhtly marked with tha anallpos— bcamteg with 

good aatora : har dark ayaa apaiUod with aahaa- 

tloB. and woo arafy haatt at tha ftnt tetiodae* 

tloo. 8ho waa caMad by har aWbrMaaaia ooaatiy' 

maybahi tir pt a l o daa awa n lB gabaaatlflilaMdfry 
llToly young gtal HaraflhMBtjraad ftoCal ftoadom 
from aflhctatlOB, pot to Oght that laaatvo whleh 

hambhr aaaodatca; Ibr they qukkly parealrad aha 

motfatgltbyaTatyaabrtbiharpowar. ShoAoaly 
mlaglad la thalr aoelal parttoa, calMd BWffy aMto 

A* waHhhig to hu^WMf 

Tha Iryid tawar DOW mat my aytk 
Whava aatoatnla aatd to Maw : 

Ka* MMd atapp>l fcrth wf opan k 
Vaa waal haaali fiMa 1 aawi 

Tm Doahld tettar^ to Ih* door. 


*' Cut, cut." they cried, " those aged ebas, ^ 

Lay low yon mournfu' pine:" 

Na ! na ! our fathers' names grow there. 

Memorials o' langsyne. 

SEJiat Rih tjfe Surart. 

To -wean me frae these waefu* thoughts. 

They took me to the town ; 

Bat sair on ilka weel-kenn'd lace 

[Susanna Bt,amirk.— Air, '' Sir .Tames Baird.' 

I miss'd the youthfu' bloom. 

—"This song," says Mr. Maxwell, "seems to ha\;e 

At balls they pointed to a nymph 

been a favourite with the authoress, for I have met 

Wham a' declar'd divine ; 

with it in various forms among her papers; and 

But sure her mother's blushing cheeks 

the labour bestowed upon it has been well repaid 

Were fairer far langsyne ! 

by the popularity it has all along enjoyed. The 
edition given, the best that has yet been in types, 

In vain I sought in music's sound 

is printed from a copy of several of her poems and 

To find that magic art. 

songs, (airly and carefully written out, apparently 

Which oft in Scotland's ancient lays 

either for publication or for the perusal of a friend. 

Has thrill'd through a' my heart ; 

all of which appear to have got her final correc- 

The sang had mony an artfu' turn ; 

tions. See the air in Neil Gow's First Collection 

My ear confessed 'twas finej 

of Reels, &c. 3d edit. p. 8. It forms the 541st 

But miss'd the simple melody 

song in 'The Scots Musical Museum,' vol. vi., 

1 listen'd to langsyne. 

first published in June 1803. The original title of 
the air seems to have been ' My dearie, an' thou 

Ye sons to comrades o* my youth. 

dee.' It is the second song to the music, the first 

Forgi'e an auld man's spleen. 

l)eing Gall's beautiful ' 0, Mary, turn awa'.' 

Wha 'midst your gayest scenes still mourns 

* Both of these songs,' says Mr. Stenhouse, ' art 

The days he ance has seen : 

excellent.' "] 

l^'"hen time has past, and seasons fled. 

Your hearts will feel like mine ; 

What ails this heart o* mine ? 

A nd aye the sang will maist delight 

What ails this watery e'e ? 

That minds ye o' langsyne * 

What gars me a' turn cauld as death 

When I take leave o' thee ? 
When thou art far awa* 

Hil^Ht mu 1. 

Thouit dearer grow to me ; 
But change o' place and change o' folk 

[WiLMAM Paul. Music by James P. Clarke.] 

May gar thy fancy jee. 

Mif father has baith gowd and gear. 

When I gae out at e'en, ' 

Forby a bonnie mailen free : 

Or walk at morning air. 

My mither spins wi' eident care, 

Ilk rustling bush will seem to say 

An' dochters they ha'e nane but me. 

I us'd to meet thee there. 

But vrhat care I for gowd and gear. 

Then I'll sit dovni and cry, 

Or what care I for mailens free; 

And live aneath the tree, 

I wadna gi'e a bonnie lad, 

And when a leaf fa's i' my lap 

For a' the gowd in Chrisendie. 

I'll ca't a word frae thee. 

My mither cries, Tak' Sandy Bell. 

I'll hie me to the bower 

The canny laird o' Hazleglen ; 

That thou wi' roses tied, 

My father bids me please mysel', 

And where wi' mony a blushing bud 

But tak' the laird o' auld Kilpenn. 

I strove mysel' to hide. 

But what care I for gowd and gear. 

I'll doat on ilka spot 

Nae charm has gowd and gear for me ; 

Where I ha'e been wi' thee; 

I wadna ui'e a bonnie lad, 

And ca' to mind some kindly word 

For a' the gowd in Chrisendie. c 

^ By ilka burn and tree ! 




4 am4lmmkm' 

▲Bd ted my hawt in twvntjr jcan 

Th* MBM M tk to-dajr. 
*Xk dMo^ta thai Mad Uw mmiI. 

And kwp Mend* i' Um e^j 
And gin I think I te* the* ajre, 

VThat can part UiM and OM ! 

[Taxbh down ftom Ika ibiflBf of 
oataral who frvqoniti tht waMrtag plaaM «f 
Donnlaae and Brtdgc of Allao. W« kaow aoi 
who la tha author of the toag, nor whether It haa 
bean before printed.— Ata, "The aold Baas'* 
man'a dead.**] 

O wsAaT oa tha «B 

It ehanMS oa a' the teoi 

tte tinea aa w* ha** aAn 

or a* the Ula in UftH oaMer, 
The want c bread and beef and beer, 
Tb« Uunt o' men, and womeiilijew 
The greatest It the toam paoeh. 
O weary on, &«. 

An emptgr potea I* dtgMad Mb, 
Gang jre to market, kirk, or flUr, 
Ye'II no be maekle thooght o* tbew 
Gin ye gang wi' a toom p 
O waaiy on, dec 

An empty ^ne la ill to « 

An empty puree la ill to el 

E'en lorera' ftriendahip eai 

To hear ouKht o' a toea 

O weary on, &e. 

Bat O, yt laaere biythe and aleaa. 
Juat let me tell ye a* a fHea*. 
Whene'er you meet yoor hide at e'en. 
De oanny on the toom pondk. 
O weary oa,&Q. 

Few *|ta! the tfanee are no the thfaag 
To mak' our aacrry tavern* ring ; 
And wha the deU coobl daaae and eiag 
Gin p m UK d wi* a toom poMli/ 

To many wl* a b 
Owaatyaa, H 

[ALBSAaaaa KaAT.aptoaglHHHilBtha Klaga* 

piateAta thaaMa«lam4y 

" T* MiW* llmt daaae la yaa wOd laMly «•■• 
Whoa* driak I* the dew tee the aw - 

Whom fbad I* the laa*M» tlMrt^ bonwan Ifc* gale 

*< O aay, have yoa ama a yaaag awala paeriag by. 
With h«Uth OB U* check, aad wtth lava la hk 

With the maid he oft woo'd te the awmt fleWiy 

Aad aBaatitofi the mart* te Ui ffMB haiQrWwar} 
r la ma b my fbad tovarH tale. 



[Marshall's tune, called " Miss Admiral Gor- 
don's Stratiispey," composed for tiie song " Of a' 
the airts tiie wind can blaw," is formed on tiie 
fine old air of " The Lawlands of Holland." The 
words themselves are said to be the lamentation 
of a young widow in Galloway, whose husband 
was drowned in a voyage to HoUand, about the 
l-eginiiing of the last century.] 

The luve that I had chosen, 

Was to my heart's content. 
The saut sea will be frozen 

Before that I repent; 
Repent it will I never 

Until the day I dee, 
Tho' the lawlands o' ilolland 

Ha'e twined my luve and ine. 

My luve lies in the salt sea. 

And I am on the side, 
Enough to break a young thing's heart 

Wha lately was a bride ; 
Wha lately was a bonnie bride. 

And pleasure in her e'e ; 
But the lawlands o' Holland 

Ha'e twined my luve and me. 

My luve he built a bonnie ship. 

And sent her to the sea, 
Wi' seven score brave marinere 

To bear her companie ; 
Threescore gaed to the bottom. 

And threescore died at sea. 
And the lawlands o' Holland 

Ha'e twined my love and me. 

My luve has built anither ship. 

And sent her to the main. 
He had but twenty mariners. 

And a' to bring her hame ; 
The stormy clouds did roar again. 

The raging waves did rout. 
And my luve, and his bonnie slaip, 

Turn'd widdershins about ! 

There shall nae mantle ci'oss my back, 
Nae comb come in my hair, 

Neither sal coal or candle light. 
Shine in my bowit mair; 

Nor sal I ha'e anither luve. 

Until the day I dee, 
I never lo'ed a luve but ane. 

And he's drown'd in the sea. 

O, haud your tongue, my daughter dear. 

Be still, and be content. 
There are mair lads in Galloway, 

Ye need nae sair lament. 
O ! there is nane in Galloway, 

There 's nane at a' for me. 
For I never lov'd a lad but ane. 

And he 's drown'd in the sea. 

^ lu^^k cam* U mx %ut^, 

[Thb author of this song, and of several others 
which we shall liave occasion to quote in the 
course of this work, was Robert Allan of Kil- 
barchan, iii Renfrewshire. He was intimate with 
Tannahill and R. A. Smith, and wrote a mmiber 
of pieces for the latter's " Scottish Minstrel" and 
other musical publications, some of which have 
become popular. He also published a collection 
of his poems at Glasgow in 1836. After spending 
a lengthened and much respected life in his native 
village, (his employment being that of a weaver 
and manufacturer's agent,) he was induced to 
emigrate to the United States of America, where 
some of his relations had established themselves. 
Accordingly, he sailed from Greenock, for New 
York, on the 28th April, 1841, but had not long 
landed in America when he was carried off by a 
bilious fever, under which he had been labouring 
during the latter portion of the passage. His 
death took pla«e on the 7th June, 1841, exactly 
eight days alter his arrival in New York. Hia 
funeral was attended by a number of his country- 
men and of Americans. At the time of his death 
his age was about 67.] 

A LASSIE cam' to our gate, yestreen. 

An' low she curtsied down ; 
She was lovelier fgi,r an' tairer to see 

Than a' our ladies roun'. 

O whare do ye wend, my sweet winsome doo ? 

An' wharfa may your dwelling be ? 
But her heart, I trow, was liken to break, 

An' the tear-drap dim'd her e'e. 


I h«inui • h«n«, qao' < 
1 ba'ciia a hanw nor ha', 

Faio hmn wad 1 rat my wMry ImH, 
For tbc night begin* to Ik*. 

An' «• dnuik th* niddy wfaMt 
An' ajc I stave, bat tend my hmit 


4b Tte lad* and Ih* IMM ««• 4|tet IB «MH> 
i TbatBOTikfU^wllev^aiidtiHtttlMrwI'iplHn, 
I Tba flriiglilt, dw Mwt^ Ika dMil^^ *• 


A' walk was MgiHl— Itar iJwrniilw JshiI 

rkae ths ssatk and tlM Mvtk. vw tka TwasiMi 

and gaaflBt than ■•«» was SBH, 

I wasn-d ihc might be the flUrisT qaaM, 

She was me jimp Mnd ana' ; 
And the tear that dlin'd her booale hhM e^ 

Fell OWT* twa iMotps o* enaw. 

O what* do ye weod, my swasi wtaHoe doo ? 

Aa* whaia may your dwaUSag be ? 
Cms the wintrr^ min an' the wintv^ wind 

Iflaw eaald on rie as ye ? 

1 lia'ena a ha' nor hama; 
My ikther was ane o* 
An* him i 

Whate^ be yoor kith, whate^ ba your kin. 

Fine tliis ye mauna gae; 
An' gin ye'il oonsent to be my aln* 

Kai naarow ye shall ha'ts. 

Hweat maiden, tak* the riDsr eop, 

Sae fti' o* tlie dsmssk wine. 
An' pnas it to yoor dierrie Up^ 

For ye shall aye be mlaa. 

An' drink, swert doo, yooai 
An' a' your kin sae dear . 

Oalloden hns dim'd mnay an c'e 
Wi' mony a saut, saat tsar. 

[Voatar Tajcxahilu— Air '* Johnnie H'ODL"] 

'Tts hinna ye heard, man, o' Darrodian Jean ? 

And hinna ye heard, man, o' Uairochaa Jean ! 
Bow death and stanratioa came o'er the haill aa> 

Ihe wrooght sle inlaehlsT wt' her twa pawky cm ; 

Dttratb^ ar kifiiig fcr Banaeli 
Theba liB Swsfea' 

They gat aaalhliw •» arowdy. boi fVBtt boO^ to 
Wm naathlag gat giowiiig hr aiashan Jsaa. 

The doataia dsdard H was past tf 

Tbe mtekaeis saU twae ajndgBMBtlbrste, 
Bat Ihsy hMkH ess blaa, and thsir hsarti wesa sar 

X'M tkavteda 

Ktakyaidse^ Ihsir awMd waraa* howkltfli' dsaii, 
Dead Ween w«a paridt Hhe havtiM hi harrsK 

ae thoomnds warn d|(i« Ibr BMvashaa Jaaib 
Bat Bo^ brav itaaii ta tha LaM af <Ns^ 

dlr giaA b aaerbaHlB aad 

Ha sla* the psaad haart ar oar waBle« yaaag My. 
Aad ipoOM a' tha ahwma o^ bar twa pawlqr aatt. 

[It may bscttfftoas to contrast the ** Banoehaa 
Jean" of TsBnahUI with a steOar aatweagaaaa 
by the Erratos SMsraaan.] 

O, WHAT win a* tha hide da 

O, what win a' the bide do. 
When Mi«gie gangs away ? 



T here's no a heart in a' the glen ^ And the leal hearts of Scotland 

That disna dread the day. 

Prayed it might never fe'. 

0, what will a' the lads do 

The thistle was sae bonnie green, 

When Maggy gangs away ? 

The rose sae like the snaw. 

Young Jock has ta'en the hill for't— 

But the weird sisters sat 

A waefu' wight is he ; 

Where Hope's fair emblems grew ; 

Poor Harry's ta'en the bed for't. 

They drapt a drap upon the rose 

An' laid hhn doun to dee ; 

0' bitter, blasting dew ; 

An' Sandy's gane unto the kirk. 

And aye they twined the mystic thrcal, — • 

An' learning ftist to pray. 

But ere their task was done. 

And, 0, what will the lads do 

The snaw-white shade it disappeared— 

When Maggy gangs away ? 

It withered in the sun ! 

The young laird 0' the Lang-shaw 

A bonnie laddie tended 

Has drunk her health in wine ; 

The rose baith air an' late; 

The priest has said — in confidence — 

He watered it, and fanned it. 

The lassie was divine: 

And wove it with his fate ; 

And that is mair in maiden's praise 

But the thistle tap it withered,— 

Than ony priest should say : 

Winds bore it far awa',— 

But, 0, what will the lads do 

And Scotland's heart was broken 

When Maggy gangs away? 

For the rose sae like the snaw .' 

The wailing in our green glen 

That day will quaver high; 

Twill draw the red-breast frae the wood. 

The laverock from the sky; 

The fairies fme their beds o' dew 
Will rise and join the lay : 

^|e (^^ijemaEtier'^ Eam^Et 

An' hey ! what a day 'tAvill be 

When Maggy gangs away ! 

[Robert Allan.— Tune, " The Martyr's Grave.''] 

There's nae covenant now, lassie ! 
There's nae covenant now ! 

^iji m^Uuh urn ti2 M©^e» 

The solemn league and covenant 
Are a' broken through ! 

[Robert Allan.— In this song, the spirit of 

There's nae Renwick now, lassie. 

fume of our old Jacobite effusions is happily 

There's nae gude Cargill, 

causfht. The white rose, as is well known, was 

Nor holy Sabbath preaching 

emblem of the Stuart family. 

Upon the Martyr's HUl ! 

There grew in bonnie Scotland 

It's naething but a sword, lassie ! 

A thistle and a brier. 

A bluidy, bluidy ane ! 

And aye they twined and clasped. 

Waving owre poor Scotland 

Like sisters kind and dear : 

For her rebellious sin. 

The rose it was sae bonnie. 

Scotland's a' wrang, lassie. 

It could ilk bosom charm ; 

Scotland's a' wrang— 

The thistle spread its thorny leaf, 

It's neither to the hill nor glen. 

To keep the rose frae harm. 

Lassie, we daur gang. 

A bonnie laddie tended 

The Martyr's Hill forsaken, 

Th^ rosp baith air and Late ; 

In simmer's dusk, sae calm ; 

He watered it, and fanned it. 

There's nae gathering now, laseie, 

And wove it with his fate ; . 

^ To sing the e'enin' psalm ! 



■MVtgr*^ gmve wtU riw, iMrit, 
tlM maitjr wan' wfll tlcep, lante. 


, Bom. TAmrARiix.— Air, '* Invcmiukl'* I 

Mr Umij I* » boniile UmI*, 
8«*C9C M th« dawy mom, 

Wbart floWn la wfld pro fti gtop rtow. 
When •pttadliif bMw and haadt throw 
Tbdr •hadowt o'er Um bora. 

Tla no the «ti«iuntoi'«ldytid wood, 

Wi- a' Iti k«iy bowm, 
That gun me wait In totltad* 

Atnonf the wild-eprung floWn; 
Bat aft I cart a lancing e'e, 
Down frae the bank oai-owia the lea. 
There haply I my la» may eee. 

Tcetnen I met mj bonnle laaU 

We raptoT'd tank In Ither^ orma 
And pnet the brtokau down ; 

The palrtriek lonv Ua etning note. 

The r7e<«ralk riept hie dam'roiu throat. 

While there the heav-nlj vow I got. 
That ari'd her my own. 

{WurrrMM by Jemr BAKn-row, Ibr many yean 
a moileeeller and tfcadter of mnrie In Xdlnboii^, 
and the co mp oeer of leyeTal reelodlee. Bedledat 
Edlnboigh In September, 1814, aged 03.] 

▲a mom, bwt oak, ae I ^aed oat 
To flit a tethrr'd jow« and lamb, 

I naet, ae ■kUBng ower the giaen, 

AJo^ynotla'BighlBadnian. t 

iU tkh yo«« mathir BItMMiH 

He eeld. My dear. ]W^ ame MlMT} 

Chm' ye te hear the h w ee u a k^ i 


When ftkhy li tha •«)• a^ iMBb. 
I'M row yi hi my tertaa pIM, 
And be yoor matla* I 

Well b% a eot, and bogr • itoak. 

Then aone. my ^av, ye 

And Idn I wad ha** gTta mgr has', 
Tet dontaa, kaet my mother rfwaM 

DWiha a rantin' HlghlanihnM 
Bat I e4bt he wOl eoaee back ( 

Then, tboagh my kta' rimdd eoaold I 
n ower the hill, or whve he wfB. 


Ctrl i^tct. 

[TnoMAe Cawmhox.] 
L Mareh look^ on Me dyli« tMM. 

e yonth, ha «Hed, whom I oall 
AttD b* iMiorad to woe b«. 

And her love lookM ap to EOeaii bower. 
And dw look'd oo her lom. 

Botahl BO pale, he know her not. 

Thoogh her emOe en him wae dwaHlag. 



In vain he weeps, in vain he sighs, ^ 

> Now Jennj-'B face was fa' o' grace. 

Her cheek is cold as ashes. 

Her shape was sma' and genty-like, i 

Nor love's own kiss shall wake thofe eyes 

And few or nane in a' the place 

To Uft tlieir silken lashes. 

Had gowd and gear more plenty, yet 
Though war's alarms, and Johnnie's charms, 

Had gart her aft look eerie, yet 
She sung wi' glee, I hope to be 

^f ?^s]pjps ^um. 

My Johnnie's ain dearie yet. 
What tho' he's now gaen far awa', 

[Alexaxder Laino.] 

Where guns and camions rattle, yet 
Unless my Johnnie chance to fa' 

The dark gray o' gloaming. 

In some uncanny battle, yet 

The lone leafy sb aw. 

Till he return, my breast will burn 

The coo o' the ringdove. 

Wi' love that weel may cheer me yet. 

The scent o' the haw. 

For I hope to see, before I die. 

The brae o' the burnie. 

His bairns to hun endear me yet. ! 

A' blooming in flower. 

An' twa faithfu' lovers. 

Make ae happy hour. 

A kind winsome wifie. 

A clean canty hame. 

^aik' tmt m^, SJean* 

An' sweet smiling babi^fi 

To lisp the dear name ; 

Wi* plenty o' labour. 


And health to endure. 

Make time row around aye 

The ae happy hour. 

Tak* tent now, Jean,— ye mind yestreen 
The tap that raised ye frae your wheel. 

Ye lost to affection. 

Your wily e'e, that glanced on me. 

Whom av'rice can move. 

Ha ! lass, the meaning I kent weel. 

To woo, an' to marry. 

But I ha'e tint thy kindly glint. 

For a* thing but love. 

And lightly now ye geek at me ; 

Awa' wi' your sorrows. 

But, lass, tak' heed, you'll rue the deed. 

Awa' wi' your store. 

When aiblins we'll be waur to 'gree. 

Ye ken nae the pleasures 

C ae liappy hour. 

Tak' tent now, Jean,— the careless mein. 
And cauldrife look, are ill to dree ; 

It's sair to bide the scomfu' pride 
And saucy leer o" woman's e'e. 

jmjg i^lnmiie. 

Ah ! where is now the bosom-vow. 

The gushing tear of melting love. 
The heaVnly thought, which fancy wrought. 

John Maynk.— Air, "Johnnie's grey breeks."] 

Of joy below, and bliss above ? 

Jbnnt's heart was frank and fi^e. 

Tak' tent now, Jean,— thae twa sweet een 

And wooers she had mony, yet 

Fu' light and blithely blink I trow; 

Her sang was aye, Of a' I see. 

The hinney drop on the red-rose top 

Commend me to my Johnnie yet. 

Is nae sae sweet as thy wee mou' : 

Tor, air and late, he has sic gate 

But though tliy fair and faithless air 

To mak' a body cheerie, that 

Hath wrung the bosom-sigh frae me ; 

I wish to be, before I die, 

A changing mind, and heart unkind. 

His ain kind dearie yet. ; 

; May chill a breast as dear to thee. 



SCOTTISR soaiofb 

Nat liKk about t&e iouit. 

[" Tru," wb$% Bunt*, " Woo* of tte mM» bCM* 
tifUl aoog* In the t>coU, or uaf etiMr h i t n na a>r- 
Tb« twu liDca, 

• And «1U I «• bla tet i«Bta, 

And wiU I bHur hlmivcdkr 

MwcnMtbetwopmsadhiKocMi^ mnmrnqmSkd 

abaost bj any thing I t««r hounl or nwl : anl Um 

*Tht pitKnt moQcnt k onr ala, 
Tb« neSrt «• mw mw/ 
are worthy or Um flnt poet. It }» lomf totbuier 
to Bamajrt daya. About th« year 1771 or 1771 U 
cam* Arrt on the etreets ae a baUadt and I Hp- 
poae the oompoeitkm of the eon* waa notOMMll 
anterior to that period."— Borne aayt nn i h l m 
about the aathonhip of the eong, wbidi baa beea 
nuule in biter daya a mb)eet of modi dieput*. 
It waa geneimUy aaeribed to Wiiaxam Jvuva 
MicKLB, the tnuubttor of the Loeiad* ttatU Cto- 
mek dained it aa the peodnetkiB oTn poor aefaool« 
mistrae^ named Jean Adama, who U*«d tai Ciwm- 
ford-e-dyke, Greenock, early In the laak aemtny. 
Ciomek ftmndad bto dabn on the f U ino wy of 
Jin. FnUarten, « popU of ieaa AduD^ and 
othen, who hMl ftwiaently baaid JcMNpaBt tiM 
eong, and aflna It to be her ow« oo w poii ll e B 
But he 

anderttood fimn Mkdde'a editor, tfaa Bar. John 
8fan, thu a eopy of the eoog la MkUeli hand- 
writing waa ftwnd among hia papara after hia 
death, bearing nMtfka of c o rrec ti on aa a flrn copy, 
and that Un. " - - - 

haeband giving 

riMiMrlalheT«wnii I 
Gbi«ow, wkan ika diad In 17«^ A i 
iMr poona, «Mai^ af a nwinl bbA MUg 
waa pttbttriMd ty Mboetlptfan aft OlaiFW IB OT^ 
mhaialai ttm j ai U l na wonid hava 1 

av «r the •dMoM af MMIe^a 
poMBS paUbhad daring I 



n. Mkkle perfectly reeoOeetod her 
Bg her the ballad aa hia owaii M B ^u 
;plalnlBgtolMr(aha bateg aa lar 
the floottiah words aad pheaaea. ) 
• eonaehraUaneeonthelMltao^r I 

iTD M|ft OBM llH aawa li «i 

A^Im ye aaia ht^ waal ? 
la thb a ttaae to ihlBk ^ walk ? 

T« Jaada, ai« fcgre yoar wheeL 
b thie a ya* to think or walk, 

WheaOaOa^at the door? 
Bax ma aqr okak,— 111 to the qaay, 

Aad CM hiaa aoaw aahora. 


8tUl, webatretoiaaehraUaneeoathe 
of Un. Fullarton, and the probity of Jeaa. UmA 
we are inclined to beiieve, that the poor eehool- 
miatnaa really did writo eome aong with a rioBOar 
borthen rTbei«-e nae Indt about the booae") 
and on a dmilar eol«)ect, whkh aong probably 
gavtIneplfatlontoMtekle'amrioa. Weaiotheti 
MAore diqwaod to thtek ao, whea wa laeoOect that ' 
Mieklet etodlH wwa moatly daarieal-that ha waa 
tttUe Ukely to oelgtaato tha aablect «f thia aoag— 
that hie poana ware BMra maHMd bf dagaaea 
Una rlgoar, aad that, with the pnaeat eaoep- 
Uoa. aoaa of tbam wart writtea la the 8eoctMi 
dialect. Add to thia. the arhiinlaiiatiaM waa; 

My taikvy attppan aaaaa ^a oa, 

ma a* to plaaaa nay ala glide— in, 

Y«r be% baltfa leal avl tiaa. 


Pat oa the nrachla pot( 
or* little Kato her bottoa gawB, 


And mak' their shoon as black as slaes, ^ Thae hills and thae huts. 

Their hose as white as snaw ; 

And thae trees on that green. 

It's a' to please my ain gudeman. 

Losh ! they glower in my face 

For he's been lang awa'. 

Like some kindly auld frien'. 

For there's nae luck, &c. 

E'en the brutes they look social 

There's twa fat hens upon the bauk. 

As gif they would crack. 

They've fed this month and mair; 

And the sang of the bird 

Mak' haste and thraw their necks about. 

Seems to welcome me back. 

That Colin weel may fare; 

0, dear to our hearts 

And spread the table neat and clean. 

Is the hand that first fed us. 

Gar ilka thing look braw ; 

And dear is the land 

For wha can tell how Colin fared. 

And the cottage that bred us. 

When he was far awa'. 

For there's nae luck, &c. 

And dear are the comrades 
With whom we once sported. 

Sae true his heart, sae smooth his speech. 

And dearer the maiden 

His breath like caller air; 

Whose love we first courted. 

His very foot has music in't. 

Joy's image may perish. 

As he comes up the stair. 

E'en grief die away, 

And will I see his face again ? 

But the scenes of our youth 

And will I hear him speak ? 

Are recorded for aye. 

I'm downright dizzy wi' the thought,— 

In troth, I'm like to greet. 

For there's nae luck, &c. 


The cauld blasts o' the winter wind. 
That thirl'd through my heart. 

[James Hogg.] 

They're a' blawn by, I ha'e him safe. 

The bittern's quavering trump on high. 

Till death we'll never part : 

The beetle's drowsy distant hum. 

But what puts parting in my head ? 

Have sung the daylight's lullaby. 

It may be fttr awa' ; 

And yet my Peggie is not come. 

The present moment is our ain. 

The neist we never saw. 

The scented hawthorn's sno\vy flower. 

For there's nae luck, &c. 

Mixed with the laurel's buds, I've strewed 
Deep in my maiden's woodland bower. 

Since Colin's weel, I'm weel content. 

I ha'e nae mair to crave ; 

come, my love, the branches link 

Could I but live to mak' him blest. 

Above onr bed of blossoms new. 

I'm blest aboon the lave : 

The stai-s behind their curtains wink. 

And vdll I see his face again ? 

To spare thine eyes so soft and blue. 

And will I hear him speak ? 

No human eye nor heavenly gem. 

I'm downright dizzy wi' the thought,— 

With envious smile, our bliss shall see ; 

In troth, I'm like to greet. 

The mountain ash his diadem 

For there's nae luck, &c. 

Shall spread to shield the dews from thee. 

®|)e ^^ameliDar^ ^m%. 

1 let me hear thy-fairy tread 

Come gliding through the broomwood still, 
Then on my bosom lay thy head. 

[Hugh Ainslik.] 

Till dawning crown the distant hill. 

Each whu:l of the wheel. 

And I will watch thy witching smile, 

Each step brings me nearer 

List what has caused thy long delay. 

The hame of my youth— 

And kiss thy melting lips the while. 

Every object grows dearer. < 

K Till die the sweet perfume away. 





My Pegsto aa' I wen jooii 
Bm blltlM at tiM bogfat i' th* 

My Peggie an' I ha'e eong, 
Mjr Peggie and I ha'e lOBg, 

TOl the etan did blink M 1 
Oome w«d or eeme WM to the 

My Peggie wm dear to ma. 

The etatety alk etood oo the womatatn. 
And towcT'd o'er the green bbtaa dM 
Ilk dentin' wee flow^ on the meadow 


i i ThoanUbihiUMM«B|Mtani«iB, 

Thr wtkl Mid whletlea 10 Mi MM^ 
My a 

Seem'd proud o' bdn' boekit SM bmw. 
When they aw thdr ain diape f tibe Doej 

Twae tiiere that I eoorted mj P«bK 

Hmmi^ loTo it baa little to look fbr 

Frae the heart thaTe wodded to gear. 
A wife wlthoat houe or a haadln' 

Ganane look rif^t Mate Ite an' qoerr i 
Oare aae baith look falate like an' qneer: 

But qoeerer when twa tame to three; 
Our fHenH tibey ha'e foo^ten aa' flytea. 

Bat Pegglel aye dear to ma. 

It voz'd me her ri^iin' and eabUa', 

Now nought eiiort o' marriago wo«M dot 
An' thoo^ that oar pwop e rte wwe dnaiy. 

What ooold I but e'en budde to? 
What could I but e'en buckle to. 

And dight the mt tear frae her oM? 
The warfs a wearifVi' wister; 

But Fttggie'B 1^ dear to me^ 

^9 ain bonnie ^a^. 

[WtiUAM lYieaouoii.] 

O WILL ye go to yon bora lide, 
Anaag the new>niade hay, 

And epoct opOQ- the flowcty twalrd, 

The waHag woode, wf maBtte gnH 
ShaU ahleli «e la the bvwer, 

Whare I-n pa* a perie *r ay ll^r. 

My klher maM afwl *• ham, 


But ga-e her haad. aad walkM alaiV, 
The yoothAi' kleo«la' May. 

[Taoeiaa OavvBau.] 



Come to the luxuriant skies, '■ 

^ An eye that flashes fierce for all. 

Whilst the landscape's odours rise ; 

But ever mild to me ? 

Whilst far-off lowing herds are heard. 

Oh that's the lad who loves me best 

And songs, when toil is done. 

In Low Germanie. 

From cottages whose smoke unstirr'd 

Curls yellow in the sun. 

Where'er the cymbal's sound is heard. 
And cittern sweeter far,— 

Star of love's soft interviews ! 

Where'er the trumpet blast is blown. 

Parted lovers on thee muse ; 

And horses rush to war ; 

Their remembrancer in heaven 

The blithest at the banquet board. 

Of thrilling vows thou art, 

And first in war is he. 

Too delicious to be riven 

The bonnie lad, whom I love best. 

By absence from the heart. 

In Low Germanie. 
I sit upon the high green land. 

When mute the waters lie, 
And think I see my true love's sail 

%^U &nmmi2. 

Atween the sea and sky. 
With ae bairn at my bosom, and 
Another at my knee. 

[Allan Cunningham.] 

I sorrow for my soldier lad 
In Low Germanie. 

As I saii'd past green Jura's isle. 

Among the waters lone. 

I heard a voice— a sweet low voice. 

Atween a sigh and moan : 
With ae babe at her bosom, and 

m^. I^ilb ©' ®al!^li0a% 

Another at her knee. 

A mother wmi'd the bloody wars 
In Low Germanic. 

[Thomas Cunningham.— Bom 1776: died 1834.] 

Oh woe unto these cruel wars 

Amang the birks sae blythe an' gay. 

That ever they began. 

I met my Julia hameward gaun ; 

Tor they have swept my native isle 

The Unties chauntit on the spray. 

Of many a pretty man : 

The lammies loupit on the lawn ; 

For first they took my brethren twain. 

On ilka howm the sward was mawn. 

Then wiled my love frae me. 

The braes \n' gowans buskit bra', 

Woe, woe unto the cruel wars 

An ' gloamin's plaid o' gray was thrawn 

In Low Germanic. 

Out ovn-e the hills o' Gallowa'. 

I saw him when he saii'd away. 

Wi' music wild the woodlands rang. 

And furrow'd far the brine i 

An' fragrance wing'd alang the lea. 

And down his foes came to the shore. 

As down we sat the flowers amang. 

In many a glittering line : 

Upon the banks o' stately Dee. 

The war-steeds rush'd amang the waves. 

My Julia's arms encircled me. 

The guns came flashing free. 

An' saftly slade the hours awa'. 

But could nae keep my gallant love 

Till dawin coost a glimmerin' e'e 

From Low Germanie. 

Upon the bUls o' Gallowa'. 

Oh say, ye maidens, have ye seen. 

It isna owsen, sheep, and kye. 

When swells the battle cry. 

It isna gowd, it isna gear. 

A stately youth with bonnet blue 

This lifted e'e wad ha'e, quoth I, 

And feather floating high,— ^ 

t The warld's drumlie gloom to cheer. 



But gl'« to BM my ialla dear, 
Y« powvra wha row* tfcdi jfathm te*. 

Ad' O ! M* bijrthe thnmgh Ufc I'D fltocr. 
Amaac th* hllk o* QMom^, 

Whan glnamln' rlaupnw «p tlw hUl, 

An' oar godaman ea^i ham* the jvmm, 
Wl' iMT I'll tmn th* iiKM^jr rill 






M7 Mrken pip* I'D tmmOj blaw. |; 

An' iing the tUxmam, th* atoatla, and boww, •! 

The hilk an* dak* o* QaUowa*. 

An* whan aald Seotiaad^ taattgr kOh, 
H«r nml njnnpha an* Jovial •wahM, 

Her flow'iy wOds aa' wbDpBat ^^O^ 
Awake aaa malr my oaiily alnJaai 

O i die nqr gnv*. and hid* mj k 
Anuuif Um hilk o' OaUowa*. 

®iie ^t8fi( of Vallai^un. 

[Troma* OmammtUM, fJillifc— li n 



Tha bM Inma nwDd Um woedMm boww, 
Oolhellac iwwto from way flowwi 
And pwa tht OTrtal MnamlMi m 
Amaag Um tnMS of BaOalmB. 

When wand*rinc ^M as FuMy tod, 
I ranced Um bothy boaom^d gten. 
The ■erotfto ihaw, Um rrtggtd linn. 
And mark'd eadi Mooming hawUwm borii. 
Where neaUing eat Um qMdded UinMh ; 
Or oarriem roaming, waadcred on, 
Amang Um bran of BaUahon. 

Why Harti Um tMHT, why bnrrta fte elgh. 
When hlUa and dalee rebound wiUi joy ? 
The floweiy glen, and UUed ton 
In vain display UmIt channe to me. 

sun haaat bm a* I atny aloaa 
Amang Um beam of naltohan 

<$f«(noctt l^uuk%. 

tiM iwHalluB of a lady la OhMtow wtth 
yot waa laHmelrty aagaalated. U~ 
edIUoa of Biaa, a iiiiiitogivift 
UmcHow ■■■■iMJiii. wUdiiUkn 
OmaekX hat wMeh w« have Mtow, 
hmotea of OMHoak Baaki was hai aol 
TW laa* of UM «« to «ltoi ** If he b* 


Whn itoli« Phabae tm to aeea, 
Aad dow.dfops «wtekto 0^ Um lawa i 

An'ihe •» twa HMftrWi^ wgiiitoh eea. 

■Mffe ipoUem like Um flowing Uwen, 
Wfth flown io white, and havea eo gree 

Wh«D panet in the dewy mora I 

An' the ^ twa epaitllag, nignetoh eea. 

Her loohe aio Uh* the vernal May, 

Au' the 'a twa 



Her hair is like the curling mist 

Thiat climbs the mountain-sides at e'en. 

When flow'r-reviving rains are past ; 
An' she '8 twa sparkling, rogueish een. 

Her forehead '8 like the show'ry bow. 
When gleaming sunbeams intervene. 

And gild the distant mountain's brow ; 
An' she 's twa sparkling, rogueish een. 

Her cheeks are like yon crimson gem. 
The pride of all the flow'ry scene. 

Just op'ning on its thorny stem ; 

An' she 's twa sparkling, rogueish een. 

Her teeth are like the nightly snow. 
When pale the morning rises keen. 

While hid the murm'ring streamlets flow; 
An' she 's twa sparkling, rogueish een. 

Her lips are like yon cherries ripe. 

That sunny walls from Boreas screen. 

They tempt the taste and charm the sight ; 
An' she 's twa sparkling, rogueish een. 

Her breath is like the fragrant breeze, 
That gently stirs the blossom'd bean. 

When Phoebus sinks behind the seas ; 
An' she 's twa sparkling, rogueish een. 

Her voice is like the ev'ning thrush. 
That sings on Cessnock banks unseen. 

While his mate sits nestling in the bush; 
An' she 's twa sparkling, rogueish een. 

But it's not her air, her form, her face. 
Though matching beauty's tabled queen, 

'Tis the mind that shines in every gra«ie ; 
An' chiefly in her rogueish een. 

[Two or three lines of this song are old. The 
rest is by BunNS. The tune is given in Oswald 
with the title " Young Jocky was the blythest lad 
in a' our town."] 

YouNO Joclty was the blythest lad. 

In a' our town or here awa' ; 
Fu' blythe he whistled at the gaud, 

Fu' lichtly danced he in the ha' ! 

He roosed my een sae bonnie blue, 
He roosed my waist sae genty sma' ; 

And aye my heart cam' to my mou". 
When ne'er a body heard or saw. 

My Jocky toils upon the plain. 

Thro' wind and weet, thro' i^ost and snaw ; 
And ower the lee I look fu' fain. 

When Jocky's owsen hameward ca'. 
And aye the nicht comes round again. 

When in his arms he taks me a' . 
And aye he vows he'll be my ain 

As lang as he has breath to draw. 

11)2 IbM tjiat'^ far u^n\ 

[The first verse of this song is old. The rest 
was written by Burns for the Museum, to the 
tune of " The bonnie lad that's far awa'." The 
words also sing to the old air of " O'er the hills 
and far awa'." "This little lamentation of a 
desolate damsel," says Jeffrey, "is tender and 

O, HOW can I be blithe and glad. 
Or how can I gang brisk and braw. 

When the bonnie lad that I lo'e best 
Is o'er the hills and far awa' ? 

It's no the frosty winter wind. 

It's no the driving drift and snaw ; 

But aye the tear comes in my e'e 
To think on him that's far awa'. 

My father pat me frae his door. 

My friends they ha'e disown'd me a'; 

But I ha'e ane will take ray part. 
The bonnie lad that's far awa*. 

A pair o' gloves he ga'e to me. 

And silken snoods he ga'e me twa ; 

And I will wear them for his take. 
The bonnie lad that's Car awa'. 

The weary winter soon will pass. 

And spring will deed the birken shaw ; 

And my sweet babie will be bom. 
And he'll come hame that's far awa'. 


[Tn MIoiHBff mv. (Kimwiw odbd ** Th* ]>i9« OP tMfVMw** iw •riMM Ir Mm Butaott, of 
wlMin w* hav* gpolna in a pnrlow note. It ha* bMa •omHkaM •noMnMlr Marib^ t» Dr. Jm 

Moor, pt o ft wo r of Owak In th> UoHwitty of m a n Tfci ------ 

«M WUUun dako of OonlMrfauid, and tbo ki* Bm of that « 

bat the aathoi 

ScotUttd, so long aa the odiaoB batekoriM tkat OMMitid OmIMm ««• 

Was* war had taako la oa «M pMM 0^ aaM MM, 
And fhw ChalMa to anas they MM HMBM^ ^Bhi, 

Wl' a iigh MM ralatiac hoar hard thiqr had toOMi 
Tha dntas tt WM beatiat. to tfht th«r taMtoib 
Hal Mji iliij liiil liiii II 111 I iliji I hamii 

Eh! Oavla. mM. Mil thoa rMMmbon tho thao, 
When t«a bfftak joaag eallaai, aa'jaet te oar pitea. 
The dake bade as eoaqaer, aa* A»m^ m the «af , 
▲a* niony a btaw ohM «• laid low M that day t 
OtOl agaia woaM 1 vMtaia thk aaM tiMk or mtaNk 

Bat ganfaoB duty to a' wt caa da, 

Tboai^ oar anna art wera weak. ]«t oar haarta aaa a 

Wo cara aa War daagara by had er by aaa, 

Vor ttao haa tam^ oeward, aa' ao yoa aad ■• I 

▲ad thoagh at tho ohaaft wo «hoald aadly taptao, 

Toath wlaM rotara, aor Aa atnafth V iM^vaa. 

Wbra after oar aoaqaaaia, M Joya no to akid. 
Row thy Jaaot oaiaaaf^ that, aad aty Mot was htaii 
They MlowM oar twtaaao, thoagh otar to hard, 
Hor oarad wo tor plaadar, whM ale aar raward i 
Xven now, they*ra waaHad halth their hamaa h 
▲ad wtU follow aa yat, •» the aako o* huigaya*. 

Bear ?9igi)lanll lallllU. 

fSoaaaT TAwvAnttu— Oaelle air, *• M or alM a OhltiarlaB.**] 

BLrraa waa the thne wfaea he htTA wt' aay AUhor. O, 
Happy were the daya when we hnded yMglthor, O, 
Bweet were the hoan whea he rowid aw la hto ptaldle, O, 
▲ od Towd to be Biiae. ny dear HIghlaad krddlo, O. 

But, ahl wace aie ! wl* their aodgoataf mi faady, O, 
The tofadf wyl-d awa* ny b»w Hlfhlaad iaddla, O. 
Mk^ aia the claaa and the dark hina aae eloady, O, 
That ay* aaonid aae biytho wi* ny dear Blgbkad hiddle. a 


The blae-berry banks now are lonesome and drearj-, O, 
Muddy are the streams that gush'd down sae clearly, O, 
Silent are the rocks that echoed sae gladly, O, 
The wild melting strains o' my dear Highland laddie, O. 

He pu'd me the crawberry, ripe frae the boggy fen. 
He pu'd me the strawberry, red frae the foggy glen. 
He pu'd me the rowan frae the wild steep sae giddy, O, 
Sae loving and kind was my dear Highland laddie, O. 

Fareweel, my ewes, and fareweel, my doggie, O, 
Fareweel, ye knowes, now sae cheerless and seroggie, ; 
Fareweel, Glenfeoch, my mammy and my daddie, O, 
I will lea' you a' for my dear Highland laddie, O. 

[Tune, "Sandy ower the lea."] 

Leaning ower a window, and looking ower a mound, 
I spied a mason laddie, wha gave my heart a wound ; 
A wound, and a wound, and a deadly wound gave he; 
And I wad wash his apron an he wad fancy me. 

I winna ha'e the minister, for a' his many books 

I winna ha'e the dominie, for a' his ■wylie looks ; 

I will ha'e nane o' the twa, though they wad fancy me» 

But my bonnie mason laddie he bears awa' the gree. 

I winna ha'e the mautman, for a' his muckle sho'el ; 
Nor will I ha'e the miller, for a' his niity meal ; 
I wad ha'e nane o' thae twa, though they wad fancy me i 
For my bonnie mason laddie he's up the scaffold hie. 

I winna ha'e the ploughman, that gangs at the pleuch; 
Nor yet will I the chaplain, though he has gear eneuch ; 
I wad ha'e nane o' thae twa, though they wad fancy me j 
For my bonnie mason laddie has stown the heart frae me. 

I winna ha'e the souter, that rubs upon the shoon ; 
Nor yet will I the weaver, that gingles on the loom ; 
I wad ha'e nane o' thae twa, though they wad fancy me , 
For my bonnie mason laddie he bears awa' the gree. 

The smith that canna lay an axe is no a man o' craft ; 
The Wright that canna seam a deal can scarcely lay a laft^ 
The lad that canna kiss a lass is no a lad for me : 
But my bonnie ma^ion laddie he can do a' the three. 


®i)e Wiil cam' ifil^Dlin'. 

[Tbb oM naim of tht taat nam eallad **TIm 
Dell's awa' with Um Ksdnman,** wm "Th* 
Herop-djuwr,'* aad it oaa be tmnd m Ikr back 
Mtbe middle of the 17th owitaiy. Thtt ttnm «t 
Bomiie are ganeaUy Mid to have bem an astna- 
pore eflbsion, at a meeting of hk brother ntim 
men in DnmfHta. It ic a corioaa fbfCt that the 
original in the p(<et't band U iwrUUn m a ^iere ^ 
r«ciM paptr, ruled on the back with red ttaee. 
LoeUiartIi aeooont of the oompoiitlan of the aoQg 
dUkfS from othm. Aoeordlag to hfan, H wae 
c o B MOe wl on the ehofee of the Solwa^, wfaOe tha 
poanuid a party of hie bflother 



engaged In watching the motto— of a 
looking brig, which had pot la ttva, l 
it wa« euppoeed, wae engaged la ■naggBof. Tbe 
day following that on which the was ftnt asHi, 
the veieel got into shallow water, and U was tiwa 
dieoovctcd that the crew were munorooa, and not 
like^ to jrMdwithoat a struggle. Lewanaoeofd* 
Inglj wae despatched to DomflrlM Sir a party ot 

simflar enand to Tnrisftohan, laarteg Baraa m 

while thus ooeq^ied, bsiaf Isftlbr ■ 

MiilaraWB hnpaUss 

be Inadeqiuate fcr tha porpeio it «M maaat to 

AiML Onaorhlsoua«adeebearli«hlBahMSlito 

friend Uwan in partiealar, fcr beta« stow about 

hie Joomegr, the man aaewaNd that ke also wtthsd 

the devQ had hhB ftr his palM. and tlMl 



taking a fbw oferldss by 

and shingle, r^Krioed his parlgr, aad ohaatsd to 

them thb wdl-kaowB dlt^.**] 

Taa dell cam' ilddUn' throogh the teoa. 

And danced awa' wi' the iiidlsiaiiBii t 
And illca auld wilb cried, Aokl Mahova, 
I wtoh yoD luck o' the priae, man. 
The deU*s awa'. the dell's awa% 

The dell's awa' wi* the eaeisssnan t 
He's danced awa', he's danoed awa'. 
He's danced awa' wl' the oselsemaa I 

Well mak* oar maat, well brew oor drink. 
We'll Uogh, ting, and R>}otoe, num ; 

And mony braw thanks to the nteikle blask doO, 
That danced awa' wi' tho« 

Wa% TlM dsfTft aw*' frt* the • 

:^ot lacft of (SelD. 


by ths kts Da. AosTta, phyaJrian at Kdlabinga. 
He had ooortad a lady, le whom hs was Aortty 
to iMtvs basB aanladi birt the Daks oT Athole 

kar, tlMt ha oMds propoaals of a 
wara amaplad oi; aad ite JMsd the doatar.-— 
The lady la qaaatfoo waa a daagblsr oT Joha 
Drmnmoad, Kiq. oT ManHadi* rwthriifra. She 
«anladJaBnaakaacood]>ahsorAthola,tai May, 
17«L aha had BO tasaa by kk C ' ~ 

r, ssaoad Daks of Oordea, aad 
uf Uw taiaa bi OWilaiuL flka dlsd 
at Ika palaso «r nuUiuwl lawaa, oa Iko ttl o( 
ftkbUM. Alitor Db. AMlteai^ 

•• Vo ami Mr ateB asarnoM 
My m)ars« kaait i«alB to lova,** 

ka sAsrau^s mafttsd MtaABMSsBgai. ^Blsr 
of Lord aaBwill, fey wkom ke kad a lasfs luBfly. 
Ue dM la 1774. Tka se^ appsaia la *'Tha 
Gtenaar,** Ufaikanik«17B, and abo la Jokaaoais 
Maiiiiiii Ae name of tka taaa, **ror bwk ti 

Foa hMk or gold dM IMM Ml ma, O. 
Aad oTaB tkaTfe dear akaH baasA Bsa, Ot 
aka aie taaook •» Atkob^ daks, 

Aad to aadkas woe ska kaa Ml ma, O. 
A star and garter hata more art 
Thaa yoath, a trae aad fldthftU heart; 
fygr empty tltke wa maat part^ 

' wshahasldtme.O. 



M J Iqjarsd ksart agata to bna : 

Tkroo^ dhtaatdhnatss I maat roeai 

afarn Jsaay sks kas left ma, O. 
Ta powers above, I to yoor aaas 
Resign my fldthlea^ tofcly fidrt 
Toor ch o bwat tiissring be her shan^ 

Though sks has over Ml BB^ O. 



1 gae^ a toHefu* %uU* 

[Written by Burns in 1789 for the Museum. 
The subject of the song was a daughter of the 
Rer. Mr. Jeffrey of Lochmaben, afterwards Mrs. 
Eenwlck of New York. The air vas composed by 
Robert Riddle of Glenriddle, Esq., and caUed 
" The blue-eyed lassie."] 

I OAED a waefu' gate yestreen, 

A gate I fear I'll dearly rue ; 
I gat my death frae twa sweet een, 

Twa lovely een o' bonnie blue. 
•Twas not her golden ringlets bright. 

Her lips like roses wet wi' dew. 
Her heaving bosom, lily-white — 

It was her een sae bonnie blue. 

She talk'd, she smiled, my heart she wiled. 

She charm'd my soul I wist na how , 
But aye the stound, the deadly wound. 

Cam' frae her een sae bonnie blue. 
But, spare to speak, and spare to speed. 

She'll aibUns listen to my vow : 
Should she refuse, I'll lay me dead 

To her twa een sae bonnie blue. 

^re me a 

[Written by Allan Ramsay, to supplant old 
and coarse words to the tune of " The Lass wi' the 
Lump o' Land." This appears in the 2d vol. of 
the Tea-Table Miscellany, and also, with the ori- 
ginal melody, in the Orpheus Caledonius, 1725.] 

Gi'E me a lass with a lump o' land. 

And we for life shall gang thegither ; 
Tho' daft or wise, I'll ne'er demand. 

Or black or fair, it maksna whether. 
I'm afif with wit, and beauty will fade. 

And blood alane's nat worth a shilling ; 
But she that's rich, her market's made. 

For ilka charm about her's killing. 

Gi'e me a lass with a lump o' land. 
And in my bosom I'll hug my treasure ; 

Gin I had ance her gear in my hand. 
Should love turn dowf, it will find pleasure. 

Laugh on wha likes: but there's my hand, 
I hate with poortith, though bonnie, to meddle ; 

Unless they bring cash, or a lump o' land, 
They'se ne'er get me to dance to their fiddle. 

There's meikle gude love in bands and bags ; 

And siller and gowd's a sweet complexion; 
But beauty and wit and virtue, in rags. 

Have tint the art of gaining affection : 
Love tips his arrows with woods and parks. 

And castles, and riggs, and muirs, and meadows; 
And naething can catch our modern sparks. 

But weel-tocher'd lasses, or jointured widows. 

I>f|p Ut u hm* 

[Written by Burns for George Thomson's 
collection, to an Irish tune, called " Balinamona 
Ora." " Your * Hey for a lass wi' a tocher,' " says 
Thomson, " is a most excellent song, and with 
you the subject is something new indeed. It is 
the first time I have seen you debasing the god of 
soft desire into an amateur of acres and guineas." 
We have placed this song of Burns's in juxtaposi- 
tion with one on a similar subject and in a simi- 
lar spirit by Ramsay, that the reader may indulge 
his curiosity by comparing the two. In this case, 
we think, the older poet surpasses his distin- 
guished successor in vigour and humour.] 

Awa' wi' your witchcraft o' beauty's alarms. 
The slender bit beauty you grasp in your arms ; 
O, gi'e me the lass that has acres o' charms, 
O, gi'e me the lass wi' the weel-stockit farms ! 
Then, hey for a lass wi' a tocher. 
Then, hey for a lass wi' a tocher. 
Then, hey for a lass wi' a tocher ! 
The nice yellow guineas for me ! 

Your beauty's a flower in the morning that blows. 

And withers the faster, the faster it grows ; 

But the rapturous charms o' the bonnie green 

Ilk spring they're new-deckit wi' bonnie white 


And e'en when this beauty your bosom has bless'd. 

The brightest o' beauty may cloy when possess'd ; 

But the sweet yellow darlings,wi' Geordie imprest, 

^ The langer ye ha'e them, the mair they're carest. 

* ■ 

]22 BOOmSB80If6& 

A Oll0«>!lof«llaiaib 

® gin gr foeu Ibut mine. 

LoffcMwII 1 lilt 

Oh ! gin je wen bat mliM, iMde, 

Oh ! gin r 'w* t«t mhM, taiil*, 

To tan i^r teM lUi tf^^ ««ril 

Wad Mk* a eofloM 4tafy. Oi 

I'd ICMl A lUb (Urine, loMle. 

Idmeawy— ffpiii<»^yK 

Tbera'a Minething in tfa^ booak fcot. 


I nerer nw bdbfe, taMrie, 

Tour actionc »' ha'* ale a gfaoe» 

My le««M saa teiw aad taqr. Ot 


I drfB tfaa iBBi tlHit I *aaM ptow. 



Soon aa Iha «Mm had bvo^kl tlM dif. 

There's ume but yoon ihoot throogh njr haan. 

I wesit to theak iW alaMa, O i 

An' aoOen a' mj tool, laaie ! 

I oooat my aoiU, aa* plr« awajr 

Ob ! gin ye were, ite. 


Each motkm ibow* aonM grace that* a new. 


Wh8B I had dMM, and hMkM aboat. 

And though >vur ebanna I dalljr view. 


I M them with lurprlM, laarial 


Oh ! gin ye were, &e. 

Bar wQy gteto rn M^» tavrt 1 

Sweet to the spring, and sweet the roaa. 

. ThadMr.thaka^yMtohiii'vt, [hmn. 

When ntiolsten'd by the ihower, laHle » 

Has pIsMM SM Ihiiith aiid ttuMgh th« 

Bright on the thorn the dew-drop glowi^ 



I trrd to drowan wl' drtekte* ant 
I tryM wf taO to drivel amy. 

But purer, brighter flff tluui thcae 

Bot oaw aw deea to Ihtahki* o^ 

Thou art, and charming more, laarie! 

Than tongue oan teU— I wond'ring gaae— 


Were Feggya lav* to hhvlhaiob, 

A a' save my heart flra* bnakta', O, 
I'd pot a gbdl* romd ih* floba. 

Or div* to Oofryrrsids, 1 

Eob(*i( Kite a DiniTtr$$0. 

la yeodar vaalt aa* aavi*. O i 

Or faae aad vlarfbr Mango Pam 

IhMNvh AMea aa* dieary. 0. 

[Warrmi by the BrmicK SRsvaniD, to thr 


tune of " Paddye Wedding."] 

T* Bttla kaa what pahw I pro** ! 

1 LAT«LT ilT'd in quiet case. 


An* nerer wiah'd to marry. ; 

I awvar I'm aairsr drunk wi* lofe 

But when I saw my Peggy's flwe. 

Than *W I waa wi' whisky, Ol 

I Mt a sad quandary, O. 

ror lo«* bM nUCd m* fbr* an' alt. 

Though wUd as ony Athol deer. 

I aeate* eaa on a l^tJi O : 

She haa t(«pan'd m* fidrly, O; 

I flnt ti<nr diny, thaa gaed daft. 

Her ohenrohceln, and een sae dear, 

Aa' now m de* fbr P««sy. O. 

BnraM me lau ao' early, 0. . 

^ 0!to**!tove:ft«. 


w My mammy coft me a new gown. 

Bim ^^* 

The kirk maun ha'e the gracing o't . 
Wer>? I to lie -vvi' you, kind sir, 

I'm fear'd ye'd spoil the lacing o't. 

[William Chalmers.— Air, " The pride of the 


Hallowmas is come and gane. 

The nights are lang in winter, sir; 

Sing on, thou little bird. 

An' you an' I, in ae bed. 

Thy wild notes sae loud, 

In trouth I dare na venture, sir. 

sing, sweetly sing frae the tree; 

Aft, beneath thy birken bow'r. 

Fu' loud and shrill the frosty wind. 

I have met at e'ening hour. 

Blaws thro' the leafless timmer, sir. 

My young Jamie tliat's far o'er the sea. 

But if ye come this gate again, 
I'll aulder be gin simmer, air. 

On yon bonnie heather knowes 

I'm o'er young to marry yet ; 

"We pledged our mutual vows. 

I'm o'er young to marry yet; 

And dear is the spot unto me; 

I'm o'er young — 'twad be a sin 

Tho' pleasure I ha'e nane. 

To tak' me frae my mammy yet. 

While I wander alane. 

And my Jamie is far o'er the sea. 

But why should I mourn. 

The seasons will return. 
And verdure again clothe the lea; 

iP^toaictJ m ft^ fejei^E. 

The flow'rets shall spring. 

And the saft breeze shall bring 

[Burns says this song was wTitten by a Captain 

My dear laddie again back to me. 

John Drummond M'Gregor of the family of Bo- 
chaldie, but he must have been misinformed. The 

Thou star ! give thy light. 

first four and the last four lines are old ; the rest 

Guide my lover aright. 

was added byTRAMsAV, and the whole is given in 

Fra« rocks and frae shoals keep him free ; 

the first vol. of the Tea-Table Miscellany. "Pol- 

Now gold I ha'e in store. 

warth," says Mr. Robert Chambers, " is a small 

He shall wander no more. 

primitive-looking parish-village in the centre of 

No, no more shall he sail o'er tlie sea. 

Berwickshire, with a green, in the centre of which 
three thorns grow within a little enclosure. These 

trees are the successors of one aged thorn, which, 
after keeping its place there for centuries, was blown 

Tm ^^2x ^mu^. 

down some years ago. It was formerly the cus- 

tom of the villagers, who are a simple race, and 

were formerly vassals to the Earl of Marchmoiit, 

[This is an old song, dressed up a little by Burns 

whose seat is in the neighbourhood, to dance 

for Johnson's Museum. "The tune," says Mr. 

round this venerable tree at weddings; which 

Stenhouse, " is evidently the progenitor of that 

they are said to have done in consequence of a 

fine modem strathspey, called ' Loch Erroch 

romantic incident in tlie history of the noble 

Side.' "] 

famDy just mentioned."] 

I AM my mammy's ae bairn. 

At Polwarth, on the green. 

Wi- unco folk I weary, sir; 

If you'll meet me the mom. 

And lying in a man's bed. 

Where lads and lasses do convene 

I'm fley'd wad mak' me eerie, sir. 

To dance around the thorn ; 

I'm o'er young to marry yet ; 

A kindly welcome you shall meet 

I'm o'er young to marry yet ; 

Era her, wha likes to view 

I'm o'er young— 'twad be a sin 

A lover and a lad complete. 

To tak' me frae my niammy yet. ^ 

^ The lad and lover you. 

" 1 


Let doff<gr dauMs taj N; 
A» hug M e'er ttaqr plow, 

A SiHkMBudnnwflnliwvtIkM, 

Who* Inwaidty thay bltie ; 
Bat I wfU frankly thaw my mind, 

▲ad yWd my taourt to thee— 
Be aver to th* mpth* kind. 

That langt na to b« frw. 

At POlWItfth, OQ tiM gTMB, 

Amang the n«w<inaini hay. 
With •aap and daadag kmu 

Wall paM tha liv»^nff day. 
At nidit, ifteda bt oww thniag hikl. 

And thoa ba twioMl or thiaa. 
Thoa ahalt lia waleoma, my daar lad. 

To taka a i 

'^ipa5( summer tlDr. 

pTVarrrm by Jomf OaisTS, to tba tuna of 
" PoIwBith on tha Onen.** Mr. Griava waa a hat 
manufiurtarer in Edinbon^ of Utnary tattaa, 
who will alwaya ba ramcmharad 1m ooa of tha 
Ettriek Shepberdi carllHt and kindcat flriaa^ 
andpatrona. Hogg dadleataa Mador oT tha Moor 
to him, and alao iatrodaoaa him as ona of tha 
competing mtnatfab In tha Qnaent Waka. Hit 
death took plaea in 1886, long after ha had rvtliad 
from bualneak] 


HI* a 
And dawi, liha dnatat^ d 

On flowar and kaiy epray. 
The eovarlat of gkwming gray 

On avaiy thing was seen, 
Whan lads and taans took their way 

To Polwarth on the green. 

The sptrit-moTing danoe want on. 

And hannleai rerdiy 
Ofyoang hearts all in onison, 

Wl* love's soft wltcharta: 
Their haU the open-dalsM Isa, 

While fraa the walkln shaan. 
Tha moon shooa brif^tly on the glee 

At Polwarth oo the green. 

While athni te tha kntUeii raar 

JF^oa hoaow^ trtflss atnrfa. 
Away, aaell pleaaaias i Msa aad laia i 

'SLit rinatsas biitr. 


aad alBO la Hardii ael i so lluB . 



Aad waMad «a4 Itay hat 
Oa Taaatey «B *• hiMal taat 

But hay play ap 

The M«irii« of k» MlMT «i 

Tha aastaif of har trMhari 

ThawaWafa'that hr sa 
Ttaaa bsy play ap tha rteaway 


Tha fackia thatu tat 



And when they came to Kelso town. 

They gaur'd the clap gang through ; 
Saw ye a lass wi' a hood and mantle. 

The face o't lined up wi' blue ? 
The face o't lined up wi' blue. 

And the tail turn'd up wi' green ; 
Saw ye a lass wi' a hood and mantle. 

Should ha'e been married on Tuesday 't e'en ? 

O at the saft and silly bridegroom 

The bridemaids a' were laughin' ; 
When up there spake the bridegroom's man, 

Now what means a' this daflfin' ? 
For woman's love's a wilfu' thing, 

And fancy flies fu' free; 
Then hey play up the rinaway bride, 

For she has ta'en the gee. 

[John Grieve. — The air of this is given in 
" The Scottish Minstrel," and is said to have been 
long current in the north of Scotland as the com- 
position of John M'Murdo of Kintail. It is the 
same as what appears among the Irish Melodies 
ander the name of " The Legacy."] 

Adieu to rock and to water-fall. 

Whose echoes start among Albyn's hills, 
A long adieu, Uldoonan ! and all 

Thy wildwood steeps, and thy sparkling rills. 
From the dreams of my childhood and youth I 

And all the sweet visions that fancy wove ; 
Adieu ! ye lone glens, and ye braes of green braken. 

Endeared by friendship, and hope, and love. 

The stranger came, and adversity's wind 

Blew cold and chill on my father's hearth ; 
I strove, but vainly, some shelter to find 

Among the fields of my father's birth : 
But my desolate spirit shall never be severed 

From the home where a sister and mother once 

smiled, [shivered. 

Though within its bare walls lies the roof-tree all 

And mouldering rubbish is spread and piled. 

1 hear before me the waters roar; 

I see the galley in yonder bay. 
All ready and trim, she beckons the shore. 

And Heems to chide my longer stay. 

Uldoonan ! when lingering afar from thy valley. 
At my pilgrimage close o'er the billowy brine. 

Harps long will be strung, and new voices will 
hail thee. 
Without devotion and love like mine. 

[From the first vol. of Ramsay's Tea-Table Mis- 
cellany. " A tradition," says Burns, " is men- 
tioned in the ' Bee,' that the second Bishop Chis- 
hobn, of Dunblane, used to say, that if he were 
going to be hanged, nothing could soothe his mind 
so much by the way as to bear 'Clout the Caldron' 
played. I have met with another tradition, that 
the old song to this tune, 

' Ha'e ye ony pots or pans. 

Or ony broken chandlers,' 
was composed by one of the Kenmure family, in 
the cavalier times; and alluding to an amour he 
had, while under hiding, in the disguise of an itin- 
erant tinker. The air is also known by the name 
of ' The Blacksmith and his Apron,' which from 
the rhythm, seems to have been a line of some old 
song to the tune."] 

Have ye any pots or pans. 

Or any broken chandlers ? 
I am a tinker to my trade, 

And newly come fi-ae Flanders, 
As scant of siller as of grace ; 

Disbanded, we've a bad run ; 
Gar tell the lady of the place, 

I'm come to clout her caldron. 
Fa, advie, diddle, diddle, &c. 

Madam, if you have wark for me, 

I'll do't to your contentment ; 
And dinna care a single flie 

For any man's resentment ; 
For, lady fair, though I appear 

To every ane a tinker. 
Yet to yoursell I'm bauld to tell, 

I am a gentle j inker. 

Love Jupiter into a swan 

Turned, for his loved Leda ; 
He like a bull ower meadows ran. 

To carry off Europa. 



TlMa SMf Mt I, M f*«a M iM, 


Bat thk flM plot yoani Adl ia : 
Vor tlMra h Mtthcr pot nor pan. 

Of mliw, fom'n dilv* • nail In. 
Then Und jroor bodgst on xoor back, 

4bsha hud • p«Mk t» kaad Iht riDir. 
Wi* It iht thodbt M •aek *• aillwi 
But dM itet tte poMk, Ik* rfDv. aai 
And M* bouk lad mrl tor k» ann 

Tor I>« a Hatar «ad« tack, 
naTk and to dovt nv «a^ft 

It mifkt ka>» HffM k« a' k« daiai 
Bat, nt a fvvk, ikt gkd H a«a'» 
▲■i Mi bault M wad laT hw awm*. 

8m Mw lb* Ihw la a ««• M pn«C 

S Ftar iht« aald. dM^ kald. riM% witeUid, aad 

[O iTw fat aHUBbnm Jovaal, Vo, Vi, wtmn H Aad bm k 
nUtakltoha«*b«nwilt«MfefaBflM«UDaiilid| Syc kw a«a', *a. 

lady, a» a kind of IiiiiIm^ih of bar turn kaNia ■nil ■ 
htetory. It to nng to an air raMKkKag tkaft of Vaw IrtM. Mr dmri^ to av 1>9*. 

" Th* I«M of Cookpao.-] 

A LAMlhfoddoinityyon bam knwi^ 
And aba WM WMl prawUtd wf elacat 
Hha bad tbrw omtcbM a' bat tmm. 
And na* bonnlt bid wad tak* bwawn*. 
Tak» bw a«n', tab* kw awa*. 
Vm bonnb M wad tok* her a«a*( 

8ba bad a io«»». It «M>M a* tko naUat, 
ItwanHdtb» M « b iaa dt k,tetmntodtk> ln i il i n ; 
Tt wanted tb* ■!■■?■>, tbc llnbif and a'. 
And na« bonnl* bwl wmI tak* hm awa*. 
Tak' bv awB', te. 

8bt bad ftm atoeklnfa, tb(7 wtr» at tbt k 
Tbqr wmnfead tha U^t, tb^ waatMl th« Otttait 
Tbigr waatad tbo b^ito, tb* bMli» and a% 
And naa bonnlt lad wad tab* bw awa'. 

She bad a •bawl. It waa Joat Uki a ilddK 

it wadna been tba waar e* tba thnkl and tb* 

For the mkklle wm boind, and tbt border awa'. 
And nae bonnie lad wad tab' her awa°. 
Tak' bar awa*. te. 


r«Br If ya^ ■» pM to weal ■• bmw, 

O aaa bonala bid w« tokr I* awa*. 

TaJt r» awa', l^yaawa*, 

Ka* benria kd wm tok* ya awa*. 

Ify*^ a* gaM aa waB aa bea*. 

O MS kaaato tot vll lar y« awa*. 

IriiHt, gitt fit toaO lo'c. 

CTkoK O— liMili Jooraal. Ho. IM^ wbei 
ippM* witk Iha toMtolB ** A. L.-1 


Te^H to lady* of My ka*. 
. Laa^gtoy*«adto>atoa. 

Wed pInMiM. ya nay mar aw : 
A brlA, a k^Ftha, a klad gadaaHM- 

f MB, gto ya wad lo% OM r 

** Wahh tbara^ IMIa doofct y« ba^B, 

Bat btt* aa' Hylh* y* aana ba, 

Aa' yaa aaa aold aa* «aqr. 


"Wad marriage mak' you young again ? 

Wad woman's luve renew you ?— 
Awa', ye silly doitet man, 

1 canna, winna lo'e you." 

" Witless hirzie, e'ens ye like. 

The ne'er a doit I'm carin' ; 
But men maun be the first to speak. 

An' wanters maun be speirin'. 
Yet, lassie, I ha'e lo'ed you lang. 

An' now I'm come to woo you — 
I'm no sae auld as clashes gang, 

I think you'd better lo'e me !" 

" Doitet bodie I — auld or young. 

You needna langer tarry. 
Gin ane be loutin' owre a rung. 

He's no for me to marry. 
Gae hame an' ance bethink yoursel* 

How ye wad come to woo me — 
And mind me i' your latter-will, 

Bodie, gin ye lo'e me I" 

[pe %um CI* <^amliiii^Iaiiig* 

[William Holmes.— Here first printed.] 

In a cozie white cottage upon a hill side. 
That cheerily lor lis on the green vale o' Clyde, 
There lives a braw lassie wi' sunny-brown liair. 
An" a face like the momin' sae ruddy an' fair. 

I lo'etl her fu' weel when I saw her wee smile. 
An' I thocht in my heart she look'd kindly the 

while ; 
She is gentle and gleesome, an' free frae a' pride- 
She's the bonniest lass on the banks o' the Clyde. 

O Clyde ! thou art bonnie while flowing between 
The thick twining branches o' soft dewy green ; 
Yet thy laneness sae deep was aye dowie to me^ 
Though the sun brichtly lay on ilk wee flower an* 

But the laneness is gane, and thy beauties appear 
Like a vision o' nope through a sorrowfu' tear ; 
Ilka souu' that I hear, an' ilk flower that I see, 
Seem happier noo ain' my love smiles on me. 


^ When clear merry Kirkbura first meets thy em- 
A tremulous ripple steals over thy fivce, 

a moment 'tis gone— then thegitiier ye run, 
1 Gaily sparklin' alang in the licht o the sun. 

Sae my heart has been flichterin' aye sin' the day 
I I first met my love on the lane hawthorn way ; 
But our hearts mingled ance, then thegither we'll 

Through life, wi' the sunshine o' love by our side. 

Fair, fair be thy beauty for ever, dear stream ; 
On thy gowany banks long may tnae lovers dream ! 
My thochts wander to thee wherever I gang. 
Sin' I met wi' the bonnie young lass o' Camb' slang. 

^t SsiHEt d' ^ilkr* 

[From Chambers's Journal, No. 178.— Air, 
•* Roy's Wife o' Aldivalloch."] 

Come, ragged brethren o' the Nine, 
Join ilka honest purseless callan; 
The waes o' duddy doublets sing, 

Wlien gousty want keeks through the hallan . 
It's true I've nae great heart to sing, 

Fuistit in auld hair-mouldy garret; 
But yet there's ease in dullii' croon. 
Though there be little in the wallet 
Oh the waefu' want o' siller. 
Weary fa' the want o' siller; 
It mak's nae what be in your povr. 
Gin your pouch be bare o' siller. 

It's waur nor a' the waes o' life. 

And sair benumbs a body's noddle; 
For worth nor vrit, without the pelf. 

Is never counted worth a bodie. 
It's no your wit, its no your lear. 

Though ye should on Pegasus gallop; 
It mak's na, gin your breeks be bare, 

And hinging a' in tatter-wallop. 
Oh the waefu', &c. 

When baugh wi' care and fell mishap. 

And puirtith bauds a body gaunting. 
There's never ane to speir your ail, 
^ Gif that the penny siller'a wanting. 





iMBTti «r HatofcM Irthins ; 
m A body look your wy, 
QiftlMi tht riDer Unu kything. 
Ok tb* wmAi% he. 

T«11 no get tmw, nor breid, nor eh«a», 
Kor toeial drap to w«ei your wjaon : 

What earn the polWMd mn o- wMlth, 
Thoofii wTBon, waoM, and a' fat gjrtaat? 

— ' *fl^lilaBf*tOitt, 


Bfcithrkh and pair wm aft bawiMm, 
Oh Um waeAa', fte. 

Wbat. think yc, b't Unlis tends and heatti? 

Itt nowthor beaatjr, wit, nor eairiacii 
Bat, (hw the oottag* to Uw ha', « 

It's tiUer ajfc that makt th* nanh^y. 
I've btea in lure oat ow the lac^ 

Ltka monay other dilal ate* HMt 
Bat, 'oanw taj bmIUb was bat maaf. 

The Maey Itannwfs did abhor BM. 
Oh the waaAt', dke. 

Hale books I've wrote, baith prose sad WM^ 

And mouy a rooelng dedioatloo. 
Bat nae ane owned the pair bao^ stilsM, 

8ae nodit fcr me bat grim starraMoB. 
▲nd oh, bat mjafai shanks be anaa', 

M7 TC17 noes as sharp's a flUsr t 
Orim deatti win soon tak* me awa^- 

Ohone,oboae, the want o sUW! 
Oh the wnsfti', he 

[Bora the words and air of tills soog are mid 
to be the comporitkm of Patrick or Patib Bmtra, 
a noted fiddler and rhymer. In KInghom, FUb> 
shtae, who floorished towards the doer of the 17th 
and beginning of the IBthceatorles, and of whom 
an exoeilent portrait by Alkman is still extant at 
Leelie House. Bamsay, in his Elagy on Patle 
Biraie, mentions " O wilto, wilta dot again," 
and "The aald man's msar's dead," as aongs 
whldiPatfe" made ftae his aln head.- We give 
here two dUhrmt rcnione of the eong. The 
seeond h Ikom **Tba 8ooCtisk MlneticL'J 


Then was hay to ea', and I 

A " 


The patra 

The aidd maa^ maar^ dead I 

The pidr aMHB% mearM dead I 

The psniB, and asaps, and a* 1 

And she ie gane-waos BBS I 

m' te his giu aaeari 
UUelhagnenkf ' 
The aald, te. 

And a* har dooee aad « 



[The universally-popular song of "Johnnie 
Cope," (which owes much of its popularity, we 
dare say, to its spirit-stirring air,) was written on 
the defeat of Sir John Cope and the king's forces 
by Prince Charles and the Highlanders, at Pres- 
ton, in Haddingtonshire, on the 22d September, 
1745. This engagement is called according to the 
different local positions of the conflicting parties, 
the battle of Prestonpans, of Tranent Muir, or of 
Gladsrauir. Sir John Cope, as is well known, 
made a precipitate and disgraceful retreat from 
the field, followed by his dragoons, and did not 
stay his flight till he reached Dunbar. His con- 
duct on the occasion brought him under the in- 
vestigation of a court-martial, but he was acquit- 
ted. The muses, however, did not acquit him, 
- for they have rendered him immortal in song — as 
a runaway. The author of the original words of 
" Johnnie Cope," we have every reason to believe, 
was Adam Skikvino, a wealthy farmer in Had- 
dingtonshire, who also wrote the song called 
" Tranent Muir," given in another part of this 
work. Mr. Skirving was a very athletic man, 
and distinguished for bin skill in all manly sports 
and exercises. He was Iwm in 1719, educated at 
Preston kirk in East Lothian, and long held the 
fai-m of Garleton, — about two miles from Had- 
dington, on the road to Gosford. He died in 
April, 1803, and was buried in the churchyard of 
Athelstaneford, where his merits are recorded in 
the following metrical epitaph : 

" In feature, in figure, agility, mind. 
And happy wit rarely surpass'd. 

With lofty or low could be plain or refined. 
Content beaming bright to the last." 
He had a son, Archibald, who reached high dis- 
tinction in Edinburgh as a minature and crayon 
painter, and another, Robert, who was long in 
the East India Company's service. There arc 
various different readings of the song of " Johnnie 
Cope," (see Johnson's Mxiseum, Ritson's collec- 
tion, and Cunningham's collection,) but the one 
here given is the original and genuine one. The 
song has been also often travestied, — and on no 
more memorable occasion than that of the royal 
landing in Scotland, when her majesty took the 
Magistrates of Edinburgh, and many others, by 
surprise, by getting up "so early in the morn- 
ing." The air of "Johnnie Cope" is older than 
the song, and used to be called " Fye to the hills 
in the morning." We cannot say whether the 
(jxpression in Skirving's song, " To gang to the 

coals" be a corruption of the old words " To gang 
to the hills," or merely a proverbial expression for 
early rising.] 

Cope sent a letter flue Dunbar: — 
Charlie, meet me an ye daur. 
And I'll learn you the art o' war. 
If you'll meet me in the morning. 

Hey, Johnnie Cope, are ye waukingyet ? 
Or are your drums a-beating yet? 
If ye were wauking, I wad wait 

To gang to the coals i' the morning. 

When Charlie look'd the letter upon. 
He drew his sword the scabbard from : 
Come follow me, my merry merry men. 
And we'll meet Johnnie Cope in the moni- 
Hey, Johnnie Cope, &c. [ing. 

Now, Johnnie, be as good's your word 
Come let us try botii fire and sword; 
And dinna flee away like a frighted bird. 
That's chased frae its nest in the morning. 
Hey, Johnnie Cope, &c. 

When Johnnie Cope he heard of this. 
He thought it wadna be amiss. 
To ha'e a horse in readiness 
To flee awa' in the morning. 

Hey, Johnnie Cope, &c 

ry now, Johnnie, get up and rin, 
Tlie Highland bagpipes mak' a din; 
It is best to sleep in a hale skin. 
For 'twill be a bluidy morning. 
Hey, Johnnie Cope, &c. 

When Johnnie Cope to Dunbar came. 
They specr'd at him, Where's a»your men ' 
The deil confound me gin I ken. 
For I left them a' i' the morning. 
Hey, Johnnie Cope, &c. 

Now, Johnnie, troth ye are na blate 
To come wi' the news o' your ain defeat. 
And leave your men in sic a strait 
Sae early in the morning. 

Hey, Johnnie Cope, &c. 

Oh ! faith, quo' Johnnie, I got sic fiegs 
Wi' their clajTnorcs and philabegs ; 
If I face them again, deil break my legs— 
So I wish you a gude morning. 
Hey, Johnnie Cope, &c. 


pTaoM "TtM WHelMS of KcOH Gtea, a Dmnstto Fw^niMt, vttk oter FMii^ ly Satm 
AaMnTr|irtntadatOlipwiafltelkli«laia& Mr. Afottli— iraiJMtjMM JaPMJM,) 

I madMil aloiW liy (h» wOd wood. 

SKI^ni lontis tjboit (mtoIu t*^t. 

In' iMtw*, an lofdlj M wfaMi iB bw drildkoed. 

On thy hMTl and thiM i|» la bMirtf OHf bHH 
Wtartn ofcr th* world tiM gngf ikndH an ncandab 
Aad tiw Iter of tk« avwl^ an d«i ii b 
WHh niliaflgiii wll toltha h fi 

Thn Ikfaik «rttgr low who dghaOila adMiib 
Whm TtowlBf that tlar M ha VMidM aloM, 

Whkb aoea «a hb Md «•• «ha MBbkm flfgladMiib 
Aa thy MthM bonm ha mM apao. 

OhI thiah 


ABd,ahl najrti 
~ hith 

1^ JKaiD I lo*f 


Aod aOI tha bah^r feMM owpi aaoaa* tht MaMly i 
' I Blhtly «te tha oMav 1 trip whM ali^ bagtet to 1^ 

Wbaa I htai Iha la^r hpi ar tar I tartk 

"- — -"iniiTi ITii r till (Ml I iim iiwiiiMi, 

Bar twth arNoty taO Ihr twMCi that lfa«v thm. 
And OB h« brow flMi naMr wnath^d la Um ravaa talr 
OM tha hMd •* hw Xlo^ 

rta hwd tha larfc^ dMf Mag arr Iha ro^r a^ a^ diV 
Had from oar ■Billag vbIm hrarfMd tte AmSm or alght amir* 
Bat iwaatw wordi Ml oa Bilat «ar thaa iBfaMtnl^ tiPMlMt lay 
Aa I gMd owia tho BMwr ywbaaa wf h« I le^ 

in boOd a war WM beoM, aad til tab* mgr IWilo baata. 
And I wfll lint wt* woalth timt th* fowd w prla* will ■haoM*. 
in nut wi* lova't aodMrinc jo|«. an •!» k bat a nanM, 
Unworthj o* tht diamia that m« la b« 1 10*0. 



f Awa', fause loons, your artfU' wiles 

Maun ne'er yon bonnie lassie spill i 


Her name and hame I winna tell. 
The bonnie lass ayont the hUl. 

[John Mitchell.— Here first printed.] 

Her cheeks are like the apple bud. 
Her brow is white as drifted snaw. 

Some may delight to spend their hours. 

Her lips are Uke the berries red. 

By limpid streamlets fring'd with flowers. 

That grow upon yon garden wa*. 

But give to me the wilds where towers 

Thy rocky crest, Benlomond. 

It's sweet to see the roses blaw 
Adown the holms o' Endrick lea. 

Through leafy groves young love may stray. 

But sweeter are the blinks o' luve 

To sing the joys of rosy May, 

The bonnie lassie gi'es to me. 

But bolder tones must fire his lay 

Whose theme's the proud Benlomond. 

Yon milkwhite thorn now a' in bloom. 
That sweetly scents the evening air; 

Dark clouds upon thy forehead rest. 

Yon cloud a warld o' pearly snaw. 

Eed lightnings play around thy crest. 

Are nae sae pure nor half sae fSur. 

And storm runs riot on thy breast. 

Thou heed'st them not, Benlomond. 

Ilk colour that the heavens can gi'e 
Does but ae lovely rainbow fill ; 

But when gay summer's in her prime. 

Sae a' that's sweet on earth is she. 

And balmy winds steal o'er our clime, 

The bonnie lass ayont the hill. 

Who would not dare thy heights sublune 

And glory in Benlomond. 

Gin I'd been bom a belted knight. 
Or laird of mickle gear an' Ian', 

There far above proud cities we 

I wadna lay me down to sleep 

With wonder fiU'd wiU lean on thee. 

Afore I gat her lily han'. 

Awed by the gorgeous scenery 

That round thee spreads, Benlomond. 

But waes my heart ! I'm but a herd. 
An' sae maun tether down my will ; 

Sublimity sits throned on thee. 

Yet come what may, I'll climb the brae, 

Veil'd in the vast profoundity 

And see my lass ayont the hill. 

That stills, or wakes the inland sea 

That bathes thy feet, Benlomond. 

®Jc mi%U^ ^iltanr®. 

^1^ Um ajSTOt t^2 6flL 

[William Finlay of Paisley.] 

[James Macdonald.— Here first Printed.] 

Comb, brawny John Barleycorn, len' me your aid. 
Though for such inspiration aft dearly I've paid. 

Gab range the warld baith far an* near. 

Come cram up my noddle, and help me to show. 

Search ilka court an* gaudy ha'. 

In true graphic colours, the mighty Munro. 

Get titled dames wi' princely names. 

I ken a lass wad ding them a'. 

! could ye but hear hun his stories rehearse, 
Whilk the like was ne'er heard o', in prose or iii 

Bring a' the walth Peru can gi'e. 


Or e'en Golconda's mines can shaw. 

Ye wad laugh tiU the sweat doon your haifets did 

Rake up auld ocean's hoarded gear. 


I ken a lass that's worth it a'. { 



Tt wMl think thiu tiM vnm tnaalBMto J«ff, 
WUik fftMiMoo tte tabte, malrteklitijr doth slow 
At tiM wild witeUof MaclM o^ mlgkly Mnro. 

INmIi i» MIHih miiiiw ■ 

BmIi cBBtriB' «B floddki, aad aadSlac la ^im 

Obold aa^ b* dkpl^rd b«t bgr mliklir V anow 

OrMt Oolteh o* Oath, who CUM OTrt sad ddM. 
With the Mg •wriUac words o* vafai glei7 aad prtdi^ 
Tha farav* MiniM «r laaal, M an of I* kaow, 
Wm a dwarf looUns bodlii Miapaiad wl* Maarow 

dad 8ainp«on, that hero, wherfew a«a •■ w w* 
Wl* aarthiac but Just th* jaw haaa o* aa a«: 
And draw down a hoaaa oa MniMf aad tha IM^ 
Wm a pair fcaMaa awalm* oompaiad wl' Maatoi. 

Tha ehhaboaa kalfht of la 1 


Thair asploiti ha?a aaloolabad tha wari, bat lo • 

Both tha Pan and tha Bar oo ma t bow tbMaam. 

Bat a tT^lM if hlsBMrtt aaa wotdiiaaa la^ai^ 
HIa anws ara aO of tha haaA aot tha haafti 
Thoa«h hk tongao doth a mtia laa «rtppti«tr fa^ 
Tat a gaid flhtal aft bottom, b MUhlr MnM. 

Whaa aoaa Ma dan «• tha da« ihaD Ntara, 
Aad Ibr aiM to oeoM a brisht halo wa thmw 
O^v thanoaldatlac NBMlaa of tha mlshly Maaraw 

WbvL to 5(i)f ti)at Wh me. 

rWarrrair by Beam to Ua ttiwaaHla laaa i 
"Matac.** Tha harolaa of this ooi« h ai 

O WRA la the that lo'tana. 

And haa my heart a*lcaeplat' 
O awvet le ahe that lo^ me, 
Aa dewa o* afaamar waapmgf 
la taara the r em b ad rti^ ilm t . 
O thafa tha hMrta of aqr kmrt, 

O thara tha q^mea of a 



O lhaft% tha hMla •• my heart. 

My lamia omrdmnrt 
O that^i the qaraa o* woamaWa 

Aad aa-ar a aaa to peer hm. 

ntvaa irOwi f^M, "Oa wT tha Ihvtaa,* 
V, -AhrtdMBMria.alhrtBO.* TMtMdfte 
dhmaaai^by Kma M*OBaan ftama IMIaMkmw 
m bl ib idbyh imia MW^ la Htf il «*Tho Maa^ 


QHo tha poMift. aaBn apaah^ 

Hlibi^htmm yffwaa t 



Tboi myoM; t ^Maoi oho, 




There health, rosy virgin, ^ " The maidens here are fair and free. 

For ever doth dwell; 

And sweet our heather braes do bloom ;" 

There love fondest whispers 

Yet sadly, sweetly still sung he— 

To beauty his tale; 

" Oh ! this is not my native home." 

There— freedom's own darling! 

The Gael, lives free,— 

" balmy is the breath of mom. 

Then, oh ! give the hills 

And bright the sun's declining ray. 

Of the heather to n>e. 

Sweet is the sound of mountain bum. 
And light the skylark's varied lay ; 

Gay are the lambkins on the lea. 


Yet sadly, sweetly still sung he— 

" Oh ! this is not my native home." 

[This exquisite little song was among the last 


Burns ever wrote. It was composed in honour 


of Jessie Lewars (now Mrs. Thomson of Dum- 

fries,) the sister of a brother exciseman of the 

poet's, and one who has endeared her name to 


posterity by the affectionate solicitude with which 

she tended Bums during his last illness.] 

[Evan M'Coi.1..— Tune, " Gradh geal mo chri."] 

Here's a health to ane I lo'e dear- 

Here's a health to ane I lo'e dear ; [meet. 

WHY do I love thee, Glenaray, why ? 

Thou art sweet as the smile when kind lovers 

'Tis not for thy plains or thy woods waving high. 

And soft as their parting tear, Jessie! 

Thy flowers wildly blooming, or brown heather 

Glenaray, Glenaray, I care not for these. 

Although even hope is denied— 

'Tis sweeter for thee despairing 

I love thee,— but not for thy echoing hills. 

Than aught in the world beside, Jessie ! 

I court thee,— but not for thy crystalline rills ; 
I haunt thee,— but not for thy fountains so clear. 

I mourn through the gay gaudy day. 

And the chase on thy mountains allures me not 

As hopeless I muse on thy charms; 


But welcome the dream 0' sweet slumber. 

For then I am lock'd in thy arms, Jessie ! 

Oh no! for unheeded the roe now skips by. 

The wild foaming cascade is nought in mine eye ; 

I guess by the dear angel smile. 

Sweet glen ! what then makes thee an Eden to 

I guess by the love-rolling e'e; 


But why urge the tender confession. 

'Tis the lass with the bright and the blue rolling 

'Gainst fortune's fell cruel decree, Jessie ! 


Yes, maid of my love 1 as a bee that has found 
Some sweet-laden bloom, as it wanders around. 

'Eit ^"^^^nh W>^^, 

Retums and returns oft to feast on his prize. 
Even so my heart moves to drink love from thhje 

[Evan M'Coli,.— Tune, " Ye banks an' braes 0' 


bonnie Doon."J 

False friendship may flatter, coy fortune may 

The shepherd boy was far away,— 

And hope's dazzling meteor shine soon to beguile; 

His heart was heavy, and his song 

Away with such shadows ! there's nothing to me 

Was often pour'd at close of day. 

Like the lass with the bright and the blue roll- 

While cheer'd him thus the rustic throng:— i 

^ ing e'e. 


Sotoif til tit t)int o' tulm. 

CWmttsm bj Hvam AjomLO, a iiattT* of Ite 
pwMi «r IMU7, Ajnktfa^ tad fbr mm ttoM » 
aspTlBCfltek tB tto B«gMOT Hoot*, Idiataiilk 
Mr. Atadle «M Aftcnraidi TCildnft IB UM Ualtcd 
8M« of AaMrtei, 10 wkifll|,«lik fek teiBUf, to 
MdcnMdlBim. B«liMUMror»MMllT«lH 
ttOad *• ▲ Pngrtmac* to Iks I«ad of BnBi.<-] 

It*! dowtt In tlM hint o- taaim. 
At tht wn'-sanff o" Um avraUow, 

liittob,lli4owtari»toM 4 
Tlw wm'^fug o' hv tht hMfft gup «t*, 
Th* AmA wt «■ • ridnln' M, 
ThiU darkna tlM wMfte «mM OB Um. 

Then WM mldtto lovt otwwa « !••— 
Oh, twn eooM no^ bo tedori 

Bot thi mqr o^ Bmv^ii obuM o* hM— 

irt oootet, thoBfh, to wwrt* BMti, 
That tte mnt o" tUb «MMli «Mi n 


Bat tho iMt leok 0^ that tovtty 0% 
And tko dytaf «itp ibo !•% to aMb 
Wwyw wttlid llh» HMttlU o 
Oh,Xafyl that I ««rB wf thMu 

On M' tf^e tartan. 

plooa An«UB.] 

ClAir y io^, tnjr dotf laaK 

Th« hak wild and ftoo^ 
Whar At— C o^ tiM ihiphwd 


Umb on iH* the tartan 




Chn ]« W% «k» ham, iMrfa. 





iKj ^I^trp I ntglntet). 

IIb UM irat vahHM of T^r^ "Ciarw," U 
hamh, 17«, hi Had^cmmlea, aiii olwirtM 
flMr MO to tiM «BM or Ml oM air, ooBmI . 
Jlpimt, imtrU, which,' with old wovdi. May 

Ok, wliU had aqryoath wttb anbHIaa to do? 
WhrWIIAanprta? Why taoht I My vow ? 
Oh,glwm<B<y<MO|>,aw1iwjrrfiwy hnohttnw^ 



Through regions remote in vain do 1 rove. 

J And now she heard the massy gates 

And bid the wide ocean secure me from love ! 

Harsh on their hinges turning ; 

Oh, fool ! to imagine that aught could subdue 

And now through all the castle heard 

A love so well-founded, a passion so true ! 

The woeful voice of mourning. 

Oh, what, &c. 

Aghast, she started from her bed. 

Alas ! 'tis too late at thy fete to repine ; 

The fatal tidings dreading; 

Poor shepherd, Amynta can never be thine: 

"0 speak," she cried, "my father's slain 5 

Thy tears are all fruitless, thy wishes are vain, 

I see, I see him bleeding !"— 

The moments neglected return not again. 

"A pale corpse on the sullen shore. 

Oh, what, &c. 

At mom, fair maid, I left him ; 
Even at the threshhold of his gate. 

The foe of life bereft him. 

(^CikMl <^ar^raer« 

"Bold, in the battle's front, he fell. 
With many a wound deformed ; 

[This is another production of Sir Gilbert 

A braver knight, nor better man. 

Elliot's, written in memory of Colonel James 

This fair isle ne'er adorned."— 

Gardiner, who fell at the battle of Prestonpans, 

While thus he spake, the grief-struck maid 

in September, 1745. It may claim singularity as 

A deadly swoon invaded ; 

one of the few songs of the period not on the 

Lost was the lustre of her eyes. 

Jacobite side. The " Fanny fair," mentioned in 

And all her beauty faded. 

the first stanza, was a daughter of the Colonel's, 

afterwards Mrs. Richmond Inglis, who died at 

Sad was the sight, and sad the news. 

Edinburgh in 1795. She was authoress of a poem 

And sad was our complaining ; 

called "Anna and Edgar, or Love and Ambition," 

But, oh ! for thee, my native land. 

published at Edinburgh in 1781, 4to. The poem 

What woes are still remaining ! 

of Colonel Gardiner is said to have been originally 

But why complain ? the hero's soul 

set to the tune of Barbara Allan, but it appears 

Is high in heaven shining ; 

in Johnson's Museum to an old tune called 

May providence defend our isle 

Sawnie's Pipe.] 

From all our foes designing .' 

'TwAs at the hour of dark midnight. 

Before the first cock's crowing. 
When westland winds shook Stirling's towers 

M,n2 nu mg Jifaitt IkSit* 

With hollow murmurs blowing; 

[This beautiful and affecting song was the 

When Fanny fail, all woe begone. 

composition of the noble-minded daughter of Sir 

Sad on her bed was lying. 

Patrick Home, (afterwards created Earl of March- 

And from the ruin'd towers she heard 

mont,) and wife of George Baillie, Esq. of Jervis- 

The boding screech-owl crying. 

wood, in Lanarkshire. Lady Grizzel Baillik 
was born at Redbraes castle in 1665 ; was married 

" dismal night !" she said, and wept. 

in 1692; and died at London in 1746. Her Me- 

" night presaging sorrow. 

moirs, by her eldest daughter. Lady Murray of 

dismal night !" she said, and wept. 

Stanhope, were published posthumously at Edin- 

" But more I dread to-morrow. 

burgh in 1822. The song appears in the Orpheus 

For now the bloody hour draws nigh. 

Caledonius, printed in 1725, and also in the fourth 

Each host to Preston bending ; 

volume of the Tea-Table Miscellany, printed some 

At mom shall sons their fathers slay, 

years later.] 

With deadly hate contending. 

There was anes a may, and she loo'd na men s 

" Even in the visions of the night. 

She biggit her bonnie bower doun i' yon glen; 

I saw fell death wide sweeping ; 

But now she cries Dool, and well-a-day ! 

And all the matrons of the land. 

Come doun the green gate, and come here away. 

^ But now she cries, &c. 


Mm'OWVtteMA. < * 

Aad ««• M aay k«it lkk» I md dak 

U* bid a «w lltty OH* loo^d M VM, 
Bmmh I WM twiet as bofuni* M tlwi 
8h» nia^ ndi a potiMT *t«rtzt hfan and hb moChOT, 
That wen aa my haari lleht I wad daa. 

Tba day It wa« Mt, and tha bctdal t» bat 
Tba wifa took a dwam, and laj down to daa. 
8ha nafai'd.aad aha gmaad, oat e'dolooraad pala, 
nn ba fow^ ha aaw wad aaa ma acala. 

Ula kla waa te ana oTa hlfhar dafM^ 
6ald. What bad ha to do wi* tha Uka or OM r 
Albalt I waa boonla, I waa na fcr Johaalat 
▲ad wtra na my haart Ucht I w»d daa. 

Thay mid I had nalthar aew Mr aal( 
Nor drlbblaa o* driak rtm thniagh tha dai; 
Nor pleklaa o* maal ftaM thraogh liw mill«%i 
And wara na my haarft Haht I wad daab 

ma tttty riia waa balth wylla aad daa^ 
Sha^iadmaaa I eam'ower thalaai 
And than ah* nut in, and mada a load dia t 
BaUava yoor ain aen an ya traw aa ma. 
And than abe ran In, he 

Hbbonnat stood ayafti' roandoBbbhrawi 
Hia aald ana looii'd aya aa waal aa aonaa^ aaw} 
Bat BOW ha lata *t waar ooy fsto It win htag. 
And aaata hfanaalf dowla apoo tha aotB-Mag. 
Bat now ha, *a. 

And now ha gaaa daandite' aboot tha dyhaa. 
And a' ba dow do la to bond tha tykaa : 
Tba llva-tamg nteht ha na^ ateaka bia a^l 

Tha ttva-kag Bleht, In. 

Wara I yoong tor tbaa, as I hais bass, 
Wa should ba% baan ipdiopin' down ob yoa 
And Unkln* It on yon liUa-whlto laai 
Andwowl glaIwarabatyo«i«fcrthaal 
And llnUB* It, to. 

^f ^iXi%% of ^t Set. 

[I» maal ibHuHbm llUta oaaa fapalar aaag is 
meribadtoJahnnwiat— ihsraf thabagi^l al 
DooflaB. Tha nal airthar, howavar, wm Jam 
TArr, a wHtor to tha atgaal, and aaaa Ikw Jadfs 
oTthaldlabarghpaaaaaavt. Mr-TMlteaarly 
tbaparfedlaalsorihaday. BadladhiUlf. Tha 

ah» of aMaad laaal^Saolkad tojote Iho BMUdb 

m9% "thaalghtlivyadi^taa Wwbwh. bat 
aaav from a tmat aad, la tha aaaaad plaea^ thara 

«r tha Daa, or oa tha baaha of aay otharrivar la 
Seelbwd.- Tha aathor Ml tha joallaa of thaaa 


Aad awaaUy tha laaad flfmm mt^pmktktttm. 
At tha fcot ar a task, wbara tha wiU-^mt mm 

I aat myaaVdawn as tha baaka or tha Daa. 
Tha aai« la aaac to tha Irtab air oT Lai^ato.] 



I vdaM thaaflbatlea and fcac 
or Jamla, tha gloty and prida «r tha Daa. 

TbqaaUthaprood i a b aia Ibr ^aBaat la ha i 
Ind ah I tbaa*^ no bopa of hla apaady rstaralaf, 
Ta waadari^afai on tha baaki or tba Daa. 

Tha ktedaat and awaatmt oTaO tha lay MIowa, 
Aad hft ma to atiay ■moagat tba oaaa lorad 

Tha laaallaal maid oa tha banka of tba Daa. 


But time and my prayers may perhaps yet restore ^ .' it's no my ain niin 


That saddens aye my e'e 

Blest peace may restore my dear shepherd to me; 

But the love I left in Galloway, 

And when he returns, with such care I'll watch 

Wi' bonnie bairns three ; 

o'er him. 

My hamely hearth burnt bonnie. 

He never shall leave the sweet banks of the Dee. 

And smiled my fair Marie: 

The Dee then shall flow, all its beauties displaying. 

I've left my heart behind me. 

The lambs on its banks shall again be seen playing. 

In my ain countrie. 

While I with my Jamie am carelessly straying, 

And tasting again all the sweets of the Dee. 

The bud comes back to summer. 
And the blossom to the tree. 

But I win back— oh, never. 

|M^rr|p mag ti$ knl x^^. 

To my ain countrie. 
I'm leal to the high heaven. 
Which will be leal to me; 

[From Cromek's Remains of Nithadale and 

And there I'll meet ye a' sune. 

Galloway Song, London, 1810.] 

Frae my ain countrie. 

As I cam' doun the Cannogate, 

The Cannogate, the Cannogate, 
As I cam' doun the Cannogate, 


I heard a lassie sing, : 

[Written by Allan Ramsay to the tune of 

Merry may the keel rowe, 

" Lochaber no more." It appears in the 2d vol. 

The keel rowe, the keel rowe. 

of the Tea Table Miscellany, and also with the 

Merry may the keel rowe. 

music in the Orpheus Caledonius, 1725. The air 

The ship that my love's in, ! 

at an earlier period is said to have oeen called 
" King James's march to Ireland."] 

My love has breath o' roses. 

0' roses, o' roses. 

Farewell to Lochaber, farewell to my Jean, 

Wi' arms o' lily posies. 

Where heartsomewi' her I ha'e mony aday been ; 

To fauld a lassie in, 1 

To Lochaber no more, to Lochaber no more. 

Merry may, &c. 

We'll maybe return to Lochaber no more. 
These tears that I shed, they're a' for my dear, 

My love he wears a bonnet. 

And no for the dangers attending on weir ; 

A bonnet, a bonnet. 

Though borne on rough seas to a far bloody shore. 

A snawy rose upon it. 

Maybe to return to Lochaber no more ! 

A dimple on his chin, ! 

Merry may, &c 

Though hurricanes rise, though rise every vdnd, 
No tempest can equal the storm in my mind ; 

Though loudest of thunders on louder waves roar. 

JH[g uiu Csmiintrfe, 

There's naething like leavin' my love on the shore. 
To leave thee behind me my heart is sair pain'd ; 

[Written by Allan Cunningham. A frag- 

But by ease that's inglorious no fame can be gain'd •. 

ment of this was contributed to Cromek's Remains 

And beauty and love's the reward of the brave; 

38 an old Jacobite production.] 

And I maun deserve it before I can crave. 

The sun rises bright in France, 

Then glory, my Jeanie, maun plead my excuse ; 

And fair sets he ; 

Since honour commands me, how can I refuse ? 

But he has tint the blythe bUnk he had 

Without it, I ne'er can have merit for thee ; 

In my ain countrie. 

And losing thy favour I'd better not be. 

! gladness comes to many. 

I gae then, my lass, to win honour and fame ; 

But sorrow comes to me. 

And if I should chance to come glorious hame. 

As I look o'er the wide ocean 

I'll bring a heart to thee ^vith love running o'er. 

To my ain countrie. ^ 

■ And then I'll leave thee and Lochaber no more. 


SKootng Song* 


Thb fprlng «oaMi bMk ts 1K0O Hm wrth, 

Wi' a' A lovar*t ipMdt 
Th« WM birds woo UmIt IovIb* naln 

Aroond o«rv«ry bead. 
But IT* DM tldll In lofw-enftt 

I iMver KMght • maldMil loifo, 

I Mw triad to woOk 

I'TO guod €B moBQr A WnMQT BMif 
And tboofbt It twwt an* fldr. 

Bat wl* tho Am tkf chBimitonM iM, 
And Mvtr BWfo mo mnlr. 

Bat mOaa nwaj* 7«v bOBsl* tea 
I« tv«r tn mjr vtow. 


At hnoM, A-flaM, fonla a* my tknaot 

I doat mj tiBM away t 
I drMun o^ a' yoar ohanna by Blfhl, 

And wonUp IkMi bgr day. 
Bat wlMi thqr ghA mf lai^*«i^ 

Aa th^r M« sladd«i>d now. 

My bead thiM lyliv oo jrow lap* 

Yoar band aMath aagr oIimIi, 
Lore •toanda mjrboaoQi tkroogh aa' 

But frt I oanaa tpMk. 
My coward btart wl' 

ButO! Ita fti'DMi man my 

I baltMi powar to woo. 

Tba •oiiinMr** upenlng bloom. 
And, cuukl yua frown, I dmad it matr 

Than he the aatuinn'i gloom. 
My lifle hangs on that sweat swaet Bp, 

On that ealm, sanny brow,— 
And O! luy dead hangs on tbiam baith, 

UnlaBB yoa ki mo woo. 

That Imay brtftthr my ¥M7 Mri 

▲ad a* tha whOa, te «MiP«« IMT. 

Tonl IsBiB ma, lasa, to wmt 

fiRjl aitt countdf . 

rrvim.''Tha Briar Bi 
Mlmri^ pisam am fema a m 
▲uBAVwm MaMumaA», wkM 




Am foar Uad kmrti av* Ite a 

Am ya aya aa Ai* ar flea, 

*Maag tba hMMB aad Hm ■ 




May bar bsrma, dear to tfaoa— 
The baald baarti aad tha fNo- 
Be rvady aye to doe 

For my ala eoantrial 


In my ala eoantrie ! 
Baitb tba great IbUt aad lbs mm 



On whatever sod I kneel, • 

i Fortune, the jaud , for a' she had. 

Heaven knows I ever feel 

Doled me but feckless blanks ; 

For the honour and the weal 

But bless'd wi' thee, and love, and glee. 

0' my ain countrie 1 

I scorn her partial pranks. 
As drumlie clouds o'er summer skies 

Let anger's shadows fiit ! 
There's days o' peace, and nights o' joy. 

# %im 1 ^tu. 

To pass between us yet ! 

For I do swear to thee, my fair. 

Till life's last pulse be o'er. 

[Albx. Maclaogan.] 

TUl light depart, my faithfu' heart 
Shall love thee more and more ! 

! oiN I were the balmy sleep 

That saftly seals young Phoebe's e'e. 

Fair be thy fa' ! my Phoebe Graeme ! 

When, soothed by slumbers warm and deep, 

Enraptured now I see 
The smile upon thy bonnie face. 

Sic visions in her dreams wad be 

As angels might be blythe to see. 

Whilk wont to welcome me. 
Grant me the bliss o' ae fond kiss. 

Then I would ope my aching heart. 

Ae kind forgi'ein' blink 

My aching heart, that Phoebe fair 

0' thy true love, and I will prove 

Might see in every troubled part 
Her own sweet image smihng there. 

Far wiser than ye think! 

Like sunshine on a cloud of care. 

®J)e ^^tu %nmH* 

PJcelie ©icaiemf ♦ 

[William Holmes.— Here first printed.] 

[Alex. Maciaooan.] 

My heart, alack » is sair opprest 
For love o' lasses three ; 

Arise, my faithfu' Phoebe Graeme 1 

I kenna whilk o' them to choose, 

I grieve to see ye sit 

They're a' sae dear to me. 

Sae laigh upon your creepy stool, 


Young Peggy has a takin' gate. 

A reamin' cog's a wilin' rogue; 

She's nimble as the fawn; 

But, by my vows sincere. 

An' likes to play a merr>- prank. 

Ilk smilin' cup, by mirth fill'd up. 

While skipping o'er the lawn. 

Was drained wi' friends lang dear. 

To see her dancin' gowden locks. 

Ye needna turn your tearfu' e'e 

My heart loups licht wi' glee; 

Sae aften on the clock; 

An' when I pree her rosy lips, 

I ken the short han' frae the lang 

Care flees awa' frae me. 

As weel as wiser folk. 

Let hoary time, wi' bleth'rin' chime. 

Wi' eager look upon a book. 

Taunt on— nae wit has he ! 

You'll aft see lady Ann, 

Nae spell-spun hour— nae wilin' power. 

Wi' jetty locks, an' Uly neck 

Can win my heart frae thee. 

Bent hke a stately swan; 

Oh, weel ye ken, dear Phoebe Graeme ! 

Amang the tales of olden time 

Sin' we, 'maist bairns, wed. 

She's sic a learned quean. 

That, torn by poortith's iron teeth. 

Ye maun tak' tent ere ye begin 

My heart has aft times bled :— ^ 

■ To crack wi' her at e'en. 


And tlMN h fmtl* Maddte, 


TIm wbMOOM aufi ab* 

I wMiU* to mTwl'. 

Hoo, oui y« fWM n* wfcllk a^ 

In troth, I iHBMi «wi njari*- 
Thagrl* »' M» dHtf to OM I 

f^ilb 0' ^aUDonia. 

rAi«SAirsK«Hr«m.— Atr, •• 
Donald.'*— H«n flnt priatHl.] 

O TBAM ha^ eooM, ■•* j 

M J aadrat fHwds MO la tlM taiBk^ 
On tba hilli or GMadMk. 

I> Uto n tnto thnfn httilid not. 

Or Mag nnsong, If no feft**» 

On tte hUk or GkhdMite. 

O* a* oar iKMH llMio^ Ml MM ttoo. 
A' swop* awagr Bkt ■nnw laag fBMi 

On tba htUi or Qatodonla. 

Tho Ttofs banks ar* ban and blfh, 
TIm •trcam riiu ama' an' moomfta* hf, 
Llko aooM Md iMart malol gfntlta d^ 
On tha hilk o^ Oakdontau 

Tbo Mrda rit rfknt on tbo trati 
Tht wild flown droop npoa tho ka, 
▲• ir tko kind thino Mt wl* OM 

^f W^iti al)fnt tie Soor. 

■■ O ImMIo vkMM ! tirilo a Mebt 

Tho «n« MO tMak, !• BMdan ft 
Bntgin Ihif iMrMi*aMik, 

111 twr H «M a MMlll omI^ 
Or «7t* tiM rartr iMk. 

And M fer mo I ooidd hnio onpl 

Tho mlthM lookt, M-flS how *o leoktl 

An' flag m oojr oat to ha 

Tbt doMO tadtBMB, thoach ho wm thtro, 

Ao wwl nlflkt bMB la BaoM* 
r^ by tho Art ht Itf •« hii plpo. 

Bat tittria' la a eonrr Hood 

Tho gawky rirtmlMr, 
A wfntan aiohft fcr BO thif MkM 

BM Hood ahint tho door. 



''How daur ye tak* sic freedoms here ?" 

The bauld gudewife began, 
\Vi' that a foursome yell gat up, 

I to my heels an' ran ; 
A besom whiskit by my lug. 

An' dishclouts half a score. 
Catch me again, though fidgin' fain. 

At kissin' 'hint the door 

There's meikle bliss, &c. 

iiiciMie*^ ^t2:ect Wtzn. 

[Thomas C. Latto.— Tune, " The Mistletoe 
Bough."— Here first printed.] 

YouNO lawyer Tom was the pride of the ball; 
His waistcoat shone like a white-wash'd wall i 
And though his retainers were small and few. 
His credit seem'd good, for his coat was new. 
The ladies all sigh'd, " Oh la! what a dear !" 
And in truth he looked spruce as a bottle of beer. 
0, the rogue with his bright boots aimed to be 
A moving mirror of gallantry ! 

O the Prince's street beau ! 

O the Prince's street beau ! 

At his lodgings arrived, "Ah dimmit,"heyawii'd, 

" I fear it's all up, for my shirts are pavm'd, 

A nd crucify me, if I know what to do. 

To pay my last trousers, my hat, and surtout. 

I've lived on a trotter a week, I am sure. 

But of course 'twas my appetite getting * so poor.' 

(hark in your ear) had mutton been cheap, 

1 think in the time I had manag'd a — sheep '." 

O the Prince's, &c. 

Next morning, when combing his whiskers,he cried, 
" I must vanish by twilight, but where shall I hide? 
Snip thinks he is up to a trifle or so. 
But I'm bless'd if I leave him a string to his beau !" 
A way he flew, and his landlord look'd blue. 
Three bailiffs are started, our friend to pursue. 
And the tailor scream'd, " He promised to pay 
The 'dentical hour that he cut away." 
O the Prince's, &c. 

They sought him that night, and they sought him 
next day, [away; 

And they sought him in vain when a week pass'd 
In the Canongate, Cowgate, all over the town. 
Old Cabbage sought wildly, the bhrd was flown, " 

And years flew by, he was neatly done. 

Yet the beau, though he managed his clutchets to 

At times hove in sight, when each imp shouted, 

" Beaus 
Should never forget to pay their clo's I" 
O the Prince's, &c. 

At length a live bundle of rags was seen 
In a field of barley near Juniper Green : 
Can I credit my eyes ? 'twas our hero indeed, — 
in running so fast, he had run to seed! 
Sad, sad was his fate ! be wam'd, ye beaus. 
And never forget to pay your " clo's !" 
He had hired himself out at a penny a day. 
As a bogle to frighten the crows away ! 
O the Prince's street beau, 
Tho &te of the Prince's street beau ! 

1 fosE^ifrt alane. 

' Lucy's Flittin."— 

[At,KX. Buchanan. — Air, 
Here first printed.] 

I wander'd alane at the break o' the momin' — 
The dun clouds o' nicht were a' wearin' awa', — 
The sun rose in glory, the grey hills adornin', 
A' glintin' like gowd were their tappits o' snaw; 
Adown by my side row'd the rock- bedded Kelvin, 
While nature aroun' was beginnin' to green. 
An' auld cottar bodies their yardies were delvin', 
Kenin' thrift in the mom brocht pleasure at 

I leant me against an auld mossy clad palin'. 
An' noo an' then dichted a tear frae my e'e — 
1 look'd on the bodies, an' envied their toilin' — 
Though lowly their lot, they seem'd happy by 

I thocht on my riches, yet feckless the treasure, 
I tried to forget, but the labour was vain ; 
My wifie an' bairn were a' my life's pleasure, 
An' they to the grave baith thegither had gane. 

The thochts o' her love had awaken'd my sor- 

The laugh o' my baimie cam' back on mine ears, 
An' piercin' my heart wi' the force o' an arrqw. 
It opened anew the saft channel C tears. 



I srmt Ml' I Mblird, tin I IhoAt flk «a« taft* M, A 

O WMTj th* dv waa, when tb«7 wen tete ftw 

LwTin' UM lu»«, the iMt iMf <m tht tmt 
~ t tte oHdd look ^itaMn « 

I'm WM-HM' tibsy A' look M wmAT M SMb 
I waodor 0M aften, to btmk ndiadM^, 
On Ok thfaic tkati Uefia% tho BMskB 1 M^ 
Hoi WBlth to tbo «««y 1 Uk* p«M» to Hm low^. 
8m bnidwM wl* grief, I BMm fH« tOI I te^ 

^dfecj^m IStff • 

[WiLUAit Fn 

Wmmtm trw, y« «m grw , giwi. 
Watm irtaa$ Mawln' yonr Tninhii 

WIU gmn Iwvot bMk to }onr ktnnckM bvtaf : 

BtodHB tTM, bof« bcoriwn tm, 
Tbo watld to Ai* o* tranehwio! 


JhuM at roar Mid mot I might 4w. 


Thnft «alti mo, kifo, tat thM. 


[John Mitchbi.1..— Here first printed.] 

Whkk gowd'8 in the pocket there's mirth in the lia'. 

And lightly the hours o'er our heads glide awa'. 

The tongue tells its tales wi' tlie cantiest glee. 

And the lips wear a smile that's near seen on — "poor me !' 

But when in the pocket the fingers in vain 
Attempt but ae coin o' our Queen's to obtain. 
How dowie we sit wi' the tear in our e'e. 
And sigh as we whisper in secret — " poor me !" 

Our trade's gane awa' and my meal-pock is toom. 
And muckle I fear I'll ne'er fiU't at the loom, 
Sae I to a far distant kintra maun flee ; 
For, O ! I am weary o' singing — " poor me 1" 

I ance dream't that fortune had featber'd my nest, 
But dreams are aye contrar', sae I maun just rest 
On what poortith likes in my cauld hame to lea'. 
With whom I aft sing in sad chorus—" poor me !" 

My coat is thread bare, and my cheeks ha'e grown thin. 
And drear is the path fate has doom'd me to rin. 
The vera wee birds, as I pass them, agree 
To sing but ae sang, and that sang is—" poor me !" 

The flowers in their beauty will shed their perfiime 
On a' that comes near them to gaze on their bloom, 
But do what I will, frae my presence men flee. 
They canna be fesh'd wi' the lilt o'— " poor mel" 

[W. A. Foster.— Here first printed.] 

Come listen now, ladies,— it winna be lang. 
While I sing you a cannie Northumberland sang ; 
It will tell you o' sports that have lang been my pride. 
And the games we've been haddin' in bonnie Till sidej 
There 's few keener o' them, — come tell me o' ane, — 
For thrawing the hammer, or putting the stane. 

The Cheviot bred lads may beat us for speed ; 

And the prize for the jumping may gang to the Tweedj 

The quoits to the town, and the race to the hill ; 

But there's something we'll keep on the banks of the Till; 

Two prizes there are, — I will yield them to nane — 

The thrawing the hammer and putting the stane. 

144 Boomea sobos. 

John Oola, wt' hk rifle, may beat as, I trow ; 

Lrt thm MBM tao tht BMumiont •>« TwMd 10 tiw n^ 
Won BBtah tkn fcr MBMhtog at AaU BmAm laUt 
Ar, itn, look mad mo-a* thw nodiai ««• tatM, 
Bj Uwawiaf tte kMBOMr aad mttliw tk* ilMMb 

Eul, CrookhMB, aad FH4, hav* mnMiltAdigr, 

Bat • bMd oTrnMnni kM that tetti^-aM anti 
▲ad 1 taO o' tiM lamM IB BV ate oMlkar «aagM I 
«r« Bk* iport b«l MM agMi«,-iMllit w alaaa, 
WhM tkmwiat tlw k— ww ■■# piittim Iko alaaa. 

€it s^utif • 

UMBAirMM Motiwiw >H to ■■* by Mr. IWakal, OtaagMV.] 
RoasAB fcr tka tktalli i tk» ktsfo aMtthk tkMK 

A^ffcrtka B aa w tei— rk^y-kaBt kow a 
Tha atMiW kwatei, «mI faavd*4 ikMIt te aMi 

Tli tka Baiw *a fMad «i«h pwli ki Mi «iK 
WkM ka Aadova tkt HM wttk tko «tH» «rkh aOskt t 
~s Iba Bewar tkat laiagka at tka atorai as It U«ii«k 
■H» tba tiiim tki gwiaw it gratial 

Boaad tka lvva4tl>M kMMO a^ Mr ate aalHa kwd- 
On tba bonaaited brow, aa ika kOtoTtha bfaad- 
On tka tea e* tba ibtaM. mid *a *airti «r tka Boa, 
May tba tbktfa ba awB wb«a tha IkMb *Oidd bat 

Hala kaarti «a ka^ yK to Uaai !■ Ma OMMi 
Bold barpa w* bait |ot to aaaad Ma avptaaart 
Bow tbaa eaa h Aida, wbaa ate ahMa as* aM flhav, 
Aai tm many btaw aprotttiaf tka IktiHi art kaaa? 
TbaabarrabfcrtbatbkUat tka baaaa Bae l Mil ' 
Tba attTBTMn tbiatia «r BaetlMid Mr nal 
A Of fbr tba flowcfi la yoar MdybsOt bvwan, 
Tba atraof bMtdad. wwl gurdad tbklla Mr OMl 



[This was an old song even in Ramsay's days, 
us it was marked with a Z in the first volume of 
his Miscellany. The title there given to it is 
"For the love of Jean," which must have some 
relation to another song to the same tune. 
•' Jocky and Jenny," says Mr. Robert Chambers, 
"were names which, for a long period previous 
to the early part of the last century, acted as 
general titles for every Scottish pair in humble 
life. The male name, in particular, was then 
invariably used by the English as appropriate to 
the personified idea of a Scotsman — exactly as 
Sandy is used at the present day."] 

JocKY said to Jenny, Jenny wilt thou wed ? 
Ne'er a fit, quo' Jenny, for my tocher-gude ; 
For my tocher-gude, I winna marry thee. 
E'en 's ye like, quo' Johnnie ; ye may let it be ! 

I ha'e gowd and gear ; I ha'e land eneuch ; 
I ha'e seven good owsen gangln' in a pleuch ; 
Gangin' in a pleuch, and linkin' ower the lea: 
And gin ye winna tak' me, I can let ye be. 

I ha'e a gude ha' house, a bam, and a byre, 
A stack afore the door; I'll mak' a rantin fire: 
I'll mak* a rantin fire, and merry shall we be : 
And, gin ye winna tak' me, I can let ye be.^ 

Jenny said to Jocky, Gin ye winna tell, 
Ye shall be the lad ; I'll be the lass mysell 
Ye're a bonnie lad, and I'm a lassie free ; 
Ye're welcomer to tak' me than to let me be. 

OTitftin a mik of lE^Wiutgl). 

[This is an improved version of an old song 
supposed to have been written by Tom D'Urfey, 
towards the close of the 17th century, and entitled 
"'Twas within a furlong of Edinborough town." 
The old air is to be found in Oswald's collection : 
the air now in use is the composition of Mr. James 
Hook, father of the late Theodore Hook. The 
words here given are from the first volume of 
Johnson's Museum, 1787.] 

Twas within a mile of Edinburgh town^ 

In the rosy time of the year ; 
Sweet flowers bloom 'd, and the grass was down, 

And each shepherd woo'd his dear. 

Bonnie Jocky, blythe and gay, 
Kiss'd sweet Jenny, making hay. 
The lassie blush'd, and frowning, cried, "No, no 

it will not do ; 
I cannot, cannot, wonnot, wonnot, mannot buckle 

Jocky was a wag that never would wed. 
Though long he had followed the lass : 
Contented she earned and eat her brown bread. 
And merrily turn'd up the grass. 
Bonnie Jocky, blythe and free, 
"Won her heart right merrily : 
Yet still she blush'd, and frowning, cried, " No, 

no, it will not do ; 
I cannot, cannot, wonnot, wonnot, mannot buckle 

But when he vow'd he would make her his bride. 

Though his flocks and herds were not few. 
She gave him her hand, and a kiss beside. 
And vow'd she'd for ever be true. 
Bonnie Jocky, blythe and free. 
Won her heart right merrily : 
At church she no more frowning cried, " No, no, 

it wiM not do ; 
I connd*, cannot, wounot, wonnot, mannot buckle 

[The tune of " O'er the hills and far away" is a 
very old Scottish melody. We find it mentioned 
by Pepys in the days of Charles the Second. It is 
also selected by Gay for one of his songs in the 
Beggar's Opera, "Were I laid on Greenland's 
coast." The song here given is, witJi the excep- 
tion of the chorus, not proi^erly a Scottish pro- 
duction, being rather a London imitation of 
Scottish song, brought out about the beginning 
of the last century, and published with the music 
in the " Pills to Purge Melancholy," <2d edition, 
1709) where it is called " Jocky's Lamentation." 
Ramsay adopts the song in his Miscellany, with 
some verbal alterations.] 

JocKT met with Jenny fair, 
A ft by the dawning of the day : 
But Jocky now is full of care, 
r Since Jenny staw his heart away. 


WUohfMpoarJoekjollMtaa, F»— • Hiili rfcinai K 1»— ^ 

1lHt«iwh»loT«daflckl«Btad. Aad — ■yi»>l'Biiii H » flip. 

▲ad in orer tiM hnk I 
Ofw the hillt and fkr away, 
Ow th* kOto and ikr away, 
Tha wtad haa Mawn my plaU away. 

Vow Joeky WM a booah lad 

Bat BOW, poor maal ha^ o^hi laaa «« 
flbMt Jtmqr haa garl Um dMpalr. 
Tottiif Joelqr waa a plpat^ aoa, 
▲ad Ml la lo«« wh« ha WW yooc t 
Bat a' tha nwlagi that ht eooM play, 
Wat o'ar th* hllK aad lu> away. 

I aaw, iha aHantd aaa fli' oTgrnea, 
WHh aoiklaloy nqr havt WW flll'd, 
Thanaow.alail with aonvw kfll'd. 
OhI waadMbirtaatoaaaatdr, 
Twad pot aa Mid to oqr dflpiirt 
laalMd of tiMt riw li eaUad. 

▲ad pat aa «ad to a* vgr !>«< 


Bat aha tHaaipha fai pvaad dMala, 
▲ad takai a plaaaava la av palB. 

Raid waa nqr hap to fh* la loiv 
With ana that doca aM liUhlMi paofo; 
Bard was Biy fliit to eoait a aaUd, 
That haa my auaataat haart batiayM. 
▲ thomand ttaiaa to ma db* awon, 
8ha wad ba ttaa te ofanoon : 
Bat.tomyt*M;akkal lay. 
(Bba ataw aiy haait aad taa away, 
▲ad Itl oW tha hUla, In. 

flfaMa thai Aa wlU aaa phy taha, 
I Btaaa gaa waadar ftw her mkt, 
▲ad, fai Ok wood aad gioacny giova. 


^IH^ cam »s pott {)eart. 

to tha taaa of *■ aw tha UBi aad te awiv. " J 

Bow aaa aqr poor haoit ba fiad. 

Bow aaa 1 tha thoi^ht ftaaao» 

Ba^ «a tha aav to Mai hit to I 

■tin a«y haul ia with m/ lowi 


• «p«a^iayl 

• kyd«y. 

▲t Ito atartaai aiillaHlit hoiar, 

Whaa alaf lato with booadlaa pewar. 


Btaaa— I w«apaad| 
FW hia wwd ihara to awv 

FMaa, thy olhra waad astaad. 

d, fai Ok wood aad gioacny giova. jj To wy awaa lh<f itoii 

alvhfauralBff.adiaalBlove! ^ My daar tad tton to a 


'^utEteisiifee. ^ 

i They charge a penny for ilka horse. 
In troth she'll no be sheaper. 
For nought but gaun upon the ground. 

[TuNB, " Clout the Caudron."— This ludicrous 

And they gi'e her a paper. 

description of a Highlaudman's perplexities under 

the laws against wearing the Highland garb, the 

They take the horse then py te head. 

innovations of Turnpike roads, &c., is said to have 

And there they make him stand, man ; 

been written by Douoald Graham, bellman in 

She tell them she had seen the day 

Glasgow, and author of a metrical account of the 

They had nae sic command, man. 

Rebellion of '45. Dougald was bom about the 

year 1724, and died in 1779. A memoir of him 

Nae doubt nainsell maun draw her purse; 

will be found in Chambers's Scottish Biographical 

And pay him what him like, man; 


She'll see a shudgement on his toor. 
That filthy turnimspike, man. 

Herseli, pe Highland shentleman. 

Pe auld as Pothwell Prig, man ; 

But she'll awa' to ta Highland hills. 

And many alterations seen 

Where deil a ane dare turn her, 

Amang te Lawland Whig, man. 

And no come near te turnunspike. 

Fa a dra, diddle diddle dee, &c. 

Unless it pe to pum her. 

First when she to te Lawlands came 

Nainsell was driving cows, man. 

There was nae laws about him's nerse. 

About te preeks or trews, man. 

®Ji? ^nU i^igPainMan. 

jNainseU did wear te phUabeg, 

Te plaid prick'd on her shouder ; 

[Jambs Hooo.— Tune, " Killiecrankie."] 

Her pistol sharged with powder. 

Hersell pe auchty years and twa, 
Te twenty-tird o' May, man ; 

But for whereas these cursed preeks. 

She twell amang the Heelan hills. 

Wherewith her legs pe lockit; 

Ayont the reefer Spey, man. 

Ohon that ere she saw the day ! 

Tat year tey foucht the Sherra-muir, 

For a' her houghs pe prokit. 

She first peheld te licht, man ; 
Tey shot my father in tat stoure— 

Every thing in te Highlands now 

A plaguit, vexin spite, man. 

Pe turn'd to alteration ; 

Te sodger dwall at our door cheek. 

I've feucht in Scotland here at hame. 

And tat pe great vexation. 

In France and Shermanie, man ; 
And cot tree tespurt pluddy oons, 

Scotland pe turn'd a Ningland now. 

Beyond te 'Lantic sea, man : 

The laws pring in te caudger ; 

But wae licht on te nasty cun. 

NainseU wad dirk him for his deeds, 

Tat ever she pe porn, man ; 

But, oh ! she fears te sodger. 

Phile koot klymore te tristle caird. 
Her leaves pe never torn, man. 

Anither law came after tat. 

Me never saw the like, man. 

Ae tay I shot, and shot, and shot. 

They mak' a lang road on te crund. 

Phane'er it cam' my turn, man; 

And ca' him Tumimspike, man , 

Put a" te force tat I could gi'e, 
Te powter wadna pum, man. 

And wow she be a ponny road. 

A filty loun cam' wi' his cun. 

Like Loudon corn riggs, man. 

Resolvt to too me harm, man ; 

Where twa carts may gang on her. 

And wi* te tirk upon her nose 

And no preak ither's legs, man. 

L» — __ 

. Ke me a pluddy arm, man. 


Aad MIt kk McpMr tait, null 
flu 4rtw my •wort, aod a* • MbI 

B««rt aff to tetf «^ Mt. MM. 
Bt vate to ton o^ a* ngr trtdai 

MyooaapaMaa W ii H ii,— a, 
Arno pa jte pMM aay kaak, 

Tto a* Pite Mjr kaa, MM. 

Ci I ■■ Bww T^iiab*T<ar«rilM»aadarthat.-] 

Hatmil pa Matator flkoa IfHab^ 
Ft aald'k ta te(y-t«« inaa. 

▲ad ^TM bt aa-d to prig, a 

Ta toqr ton to wklt. ■«(■ I 
Bat a* to tooB tkl^i rf» pa MM. 


OahaBlaAaaf kv 
Pidr maa I IT II19 BMir |oa to 


n> Craad to BMito to to kM» 


▲a* ifM *a« pa Mk-aoi, ■ 

Bar poal «aa troim-d, iMMl 0M t^M, 

BImV aatod lU dytav 4^r» BiM, 
Bo tett I ihaH pa A*.eod ao aota. 

An* tna iha tara to wkUky 'nn, 
P* piaw to «•• tn^ tnaa, aiaa t 

P«i Augaf iha «ll pM aalMiV to. 
Tat agra taak toaib aa% aaa. 


BhU woaiw «kar tqr a* foti^ooa 
To top toir pM aP toMl, totoi t 

Ik tril a ipaaa to a* to IwaM, 

ifca i taa w la — to M i l towi, toa» 


P* pet kw la to riMil, aMa. 
Wkar iha wad toood Itar oiony a tajr. 

M ■imati la «a to «aa yt Mra. 

Ft Jav tha watm aat, iMa, 
▲ad aaAv da diy, ttai^hika wad 

▲• tiV lilto maaatola 9«rt, aiai 
F» Mnapr fer «a toa to laaapa, 

lite ipaaklH la a mw, Btoa : 
▲* ptaalla priglrt tir want or oO, 

▲ad tril a wtak ava, maa. 

Ik OhMfow Mk ba aaee tA, 

Ha*)* iMBafi wl* to tiO, Baa.~ 
Wr An toy giaad to toit o* woo. 


Wi' fire tey spin, wi' fire tey weave, ^ 

f She'll met Shony Grant her cosin's son. 

Wi' fire do ilka turn, man. 

An' Tuncan, an' Toukal, an' Tonal Cunn, 

Na, some o' tem will eat ta fire. 

An' twa three more— an' she had sio fun. 

And no him's pelly pum, man. 

But she'll tum't oot a saut aaut mornin'. 

Wi' fire tey mak' ta coach pe rin. 

Bae Shony Grant, a shUl she'U ha'e 

Upon ta railman'8 raw, man. 

0' ta fera cootest usquapae. 

Nainsel will saw him teuk ta road. 

An' she'll pochtet a shill, aye an' twa three mae. 

An' teil a horse to traw, man ; 

An' she'll trank till ta fera neist mornin'. 

Anither coach to Paisley rin. 

Tey'U call him Lauchie's motion. 

She'll sat, an* she'U trank, an' she'll roar, an' she'U 

But oich ! she was plawn a' to bits. 


By rascal rogue M'Splosion. 

An' aye for ta shiU ta peU she'U rang. 

An' she'll maet sic a tin fat a man she'U prang. 

Wi' fire tey mak' ta vessels rin 

An' she'll say't— " Co home 'tis mornin'." 

Upon ta river Clyde, man. 

She saw't hersel, as sure's a gun. 

Ta man she'll had on ta great pig coat. 

As she stood on ta side, man : 

An' in her han' a rung she'll cot. 

But gin you'll no peUeve her word. 

An' a pumin' cruzie, an' she'll say't you sot 

Gang to ta Proomielaw, man. 

She'U maun go to ta Offish tis mornin'. 

You'll saw ta ship wi' twa miU-wheels, 

Pe grund ta water sma', man. 

She'U say't to ta man— " De an DiaouJ thm 
duitse f" 

Oich ! sic a town a« Glasgow town, 

An' ta man she'U say't—" Pe quiet as ta mouse. 

She never see pefore, man. 

Or nelse o'er her nottle she'U come fu' crousc. 

Ta houses tere pe mile and mair. 

An' she'U put ta Offish in you in ta mornin ." 

Wi' names "poon ilka toor, man. 

An' in teir muckle windows tere, 

Ta man she'U dunt on ta stane her stick. 

She'll saw't, sure's teath, for sale, man. 

An' fan she'U pe eheuk her rick-tick-tick. 

Praw shentleman's pe want ta head. 

An' fan she'U pe catchet her by ta neck. 

An' leddies want ta tail, man. 

An' trawn her to ta Offish in ta mornin'. 

She wonders what ta peoples do. 

Ta mornin' come she'U be procht before 

Wi' a' ta praw things tere, man. 

Ta gentleman's praw, an' her pones aU sore. 

Gi'e her ta prose, ta kilt, an' hose. 

An' ta shentleman's say't, " You tog, what for 

For tem she wadna care, man. 

You'U maet sic a tin in tis mornin'.'* 

And aye gi'e her ta pickle sneesh. 

And wee drap parley pree, man. 

She'U teukit aflf her ponnet and she'U maet her a 

For a' ta praws in Glasgow town. 


She no gi'e a paw-prown-pee, man. 

An' she'U say't, " Please her Grace she cot her sel* 

But shust let her co and she'll never to 

Ta like no more in ta mornin'. 

®a #fei)» 

But fan she'U ha'et to ta shentleman's praw 

Ta Sheordie frae out 0' her sporan traw. 

An' she'U roart out loot—" De an diaoul ahae gra t 

[Alkx. Fishkr.— Air, " Johnny Cope."J 

Oh hone ri 'tis mornin' !" 
fan she'U pe sait ta shentlemans, " she'U no 

Hkr nainsel' come frae ta hielan' hill. 

To pionny town 0' Glascow till. 

What fore she'U pe here like ta lallan prute. 

But o' Glaacow she's koten her pelly fill, ^ 

But she'U maet her cause either pad or coot. 

Bhe'U no forget tis twa tree mornin'. < 

y For she'U teuk you to ta law this mornin'.*' 


iOOTTUB 80V08. 

I licetolHWMMMfyball, 

Olah t *i «ldaft kBMT wteft to do a^ 

Aa* kla* the WM Hfte to kot s«m'. 
Turn oot o' to oflUi to to OMRito'. 

Oh i tot alM war to to BMaat paek, 
Wluv tm'mr to |wllS«H toft to craak, 
Aa* wfaaia alM wad foMtn to •orro' a ptosk, 
Fra* B'Mi «* ter ipofaB to to aaavBtai*. 

Aa tot thoa was tiMra k« «MteM ton, 
Aa' Taaoaa, aa' Tookal, aad Toaal Oaaa, 

[AiA. Boaaaa. Air * Tufcanf Cbpt^'^ 


Dot rfMH rit pgr to frMUc* IMT baftrfti to daw , 
Aa'iwMnlehCTaluuika,tUl the]r>t nd ai to baw, 

Aa' a' fti' o' mtriM Oka momto*. 
Bat her nalnad' at laM to to Lalaaa can* dooa, 
Aa* will got her a piaeo inaag to adUr 01— chow 

WliarclM^ BOO pruah-to>poot, aa' pv poltah-ta> 

Aa' po riMatkBoaal flankto la to nomla*. 

Bat at la«t Am will tarn vary ftell o* to pvoad. 
An' the'll bold ap bar baada, aa' aball apoka vaqr 

An' ■ba'Q look wl'dladatata •poB to low tirtjr etowd. 
Tat will bint *poat to doon ilka nMcnin*. 

It pt Av toe azpnat wr to laaria to go { 

Tat ika han ^WHC tft piMa d» woa para to. 
Tkaato totowaafy''laMiMi, whawftatodid 

Tat yoaH aet gha to iMrfa todaMaaB*todaaa?* 
Bat tola a' f 1 1 1 <i ■iiiili, aaaty mm *wt to 

Thagr wad apaWa al banpanaa aaa toaaarato*. 

Boa, ih«^ ttaolMte'ifaall jat tora a pmw waitor^ 

Aa'pjrShaoiflat aaariMV atop^ atoVpanaMar 


Wkaa akail M^ ap to rffB a^ tha ** OoMaa Oeai 

Aa* win alt to kto pMtoar bar avdtoi to gTa 
Ta bar wiym aa* hv baato to to narato* I 

) HIaTagri 

«ka1l bal^ a alraagar. aba*n bMk W7 aby-Uka ! 
SMmaawaalaeqaalatwl yoar Wgb klatoa dla- 

Balboagbl aaaarbaad.ibainetplwi^orflaplli 
»a aeaato taa to bewa at tha tl 0^ Olndea. 

Bat bar kilt aba'U i 

Aa' riM'D laani to to lB4f to aerap aa' to pow, air, 

A n' ■ay to to ibintlwnaai, Bow did yaa*n do, air > 

Aa'l * " ' 



An' when she'll pe spoket ta laigh kintra jabber, i 

f With Delia's breath my joy expired. 

She'll gi'e hersel' out for ta laird o' Lochaber, 

'Twas Delia's smiles my fancy fired ; 

Shust come for amusements to turn habberdaber. 

Like that poor bird I pine, and prove 

For tat will pe prawer tan herding ta cow. 

Nought can supply the place of love. 

She'll got a big shop, an' she'll tura'd a big dealer ; 

Dark as his feathers was the fate. 

She was caution hersel', for they'll no sought no 

That robb'd him of his darling mate ; 


Dimm'd is the lustre of his eye. 

But Tugal M'Tagger hersel' mak's a failure,— 

That wont to gaze the sun-bright sky. 

They'll call her a bankrumpt, a trade she'll not 

To him is now for ever lost. 


The heartfelt bliss he once could boast ; 
Thy sorrows, hapless bird, display. 

They'll called a great meeting, she'll look very 

An image of my soul's dismay. 

quate now. 

She'll fain win awa', but they'll tell her to wait now; 

They'll spoket a lang time, 'pout a great estate now; 

She'll thocht that they'U thocht her the laird o' 

JMarg'^ l)wam» 

They'll wrote a lang while about a trust deeder. 

[The author of this beautiful poem was John 

She'll no write a word, for hersel' couldna read her. 

Lowe, a son of the gardener at Kenmure castle 

They'll sought compongzition, hough, hough. 

in Galloway^ Having studied for the church, he 
was employed as tutor by Jlr. Macghie at Airds, 

never heed her,— 

There's no sic a word 'mang the hills o' Glendoo. 

an estate near the confluence of the Dee and the 
Ken. While residing there, about the year 1772, 

But had she her durk, hersel' would devour them. 

a gentleman named Alexander Miller, the lover 

They'll put her in jail when she'll stood there 

of Miss Marj- Macghie, was drowned at sea— and 

before them ; 

this gave occasion to the song which preserves 

But faith she'll got out on a hashimanorum ; 

Lowe's name. Lowe's life was unfortunate. He 

And now she's as free as the win's on Glendoo. 

died in America towards the close of the last cen- 

The moon had cUmb'd the highest hill, 
Which rises o'er the source of Dee, 

^|n? Wluk lEagk* 

And from the eastern summit shed 

Her silver light on tower and tree ; 
When Mary laid her down to sleep. 

[Written by Dr. Fordyck, and published in 

Her thoughts on Sandy far at sea ; 

Johnson's Museum. Dr. Fordyce perished at sea 

When soft and low, a voice was heard. 

in the year 1755.] 

Saying, " Mary, weep no more for me !" 

Hark ! yonder eagle lonely wails. 

She from her pillow gently raised 

His faithful bosom grief assails ; 

Her head, to ask who there might be. 

Last night I heard him in my dream. 

And saw young Sandy shivering stand. 

When death and woe were all the theme. 

With visage pale, and hollow e'e. 

Like that poor bird I make my moan. 

" Mary dear, cold is my clay ; 

1 grieve for dearest Delia gone ; 

It lies beneath a stormy sea. 

With him to gloomy rocks I fly. 

Far, far from thee, I sleep in death. 

He mourns for love and so do 1. 

So, Mary, weep no more for me 1 

•Twaa mighty love that tamed his breast, 

Three stormy nights and stormy days. 

•Tis tender grief that breaks hia rest ; 

We tossed upon the raging main ; 

He droops his wings, he hangs his head. 

And long we strove our bark to save. 

Since she he fondly loved was dead. • 

^ But all our striving was in vain. 


■ooTTiBu soicoa 


,whnlMtfOT«kIIMB7Moed, A Ob li« |wr ckMk to hIb^ Wl 

twwOlbdwtthloMfvlbM: f Tov lMa< m «y MmI4m 

iipMt,uMlIatf«tt; Oh agr ftH Iktek M ma, Wm 

f.wwpnomanrorBM! WIm Iam<Md«iifu»! 

We noQ tlMdl nwat opoa thai Aon, 
Whv* lo*« Is ikw ftnoi do«bi and owe. 

No awM «r flta47 «»M dw Mb 

" 8wwt lUiy, wMp DO man tar i 

tri^e filing ^lainK. 

[WiLUAH FAkcwsa, aatlnr of "Tka fl 


Art di«rtf to an Iho pM» or Maf I 
Tho Mf4» oa o««fy ip««]r>b0*> 

VoriVVtaf aor 
loMvadty ' 

Oioftailooo! ask 

Bat IM aa «■« «paa jri 


▲ad' - ■ 


r^rfttta'aa yi 



Tho MwaraifB baka of lo«o laiiaft t 
IV pnMM* iMttagjoy aten Mag, 
▲ad gifo tlM 9«ar Hwaal aprtaf. 

iVlS jbtil) i]» Utte to tmD. 

[William Morasawsu^ — Thfa 
aarpoam Um hisim author^ " J«anla 

Mt held to IOm to rrod. WlUia. 

My hmrt it Uka to hnmk— 
I'm wfarin' off nay feet, WUli*. 

I'm djrta' for yoiur aka i 


Hat tmnaaa kafltai* o«w 

Wkf «H»9*a«fcr« 

▲ad ilik at' a* I na- 



▲ Moaa 

▲ mil 

Ok! ha< 



Anither, and anither yet I— ^ Spring on the inountains laughs the while. 

How fiist my life-strings break ! 

Thy green woods wave in vernal air ; 

Fareweel ! fareweel ! through yon kirk -yard 

But the loved scenes may vainly smile- 

Step lichtly for my sake ! 

Not e'en thy dust is there. 

The lavrock in the lift, Willie, 

On thy blue hills no bugle sound 

That lilts far ower our held. 

Is mixing with the torrent's roar; 

Will sing the morn as merrilie 

Uumark'd the red deer sport around— 

Abune the clay-cauld deid ; 

Thou lead'st the chase no more. 

And this green turf we're sittin' on. 

Thy gates are closed, thy halls are stiU- 

Wi' dew-draps shimmerin' sheen. 

Those halls where s^vell'd the coral strain ; 

Will hap the heart that luvit thee 

They hear the wild winds murmuring shrill. 

As warld has seldom seen. 

And all is hush'd again. 

But oh ! remember me, Willie, 

Thy bard his pealing harp has broke— 

On land where'er ye be — 

His fire, his joy of song, is past! 

And oh ! think on the leal, leal heart, 

One lay to moum thy fkte he woke. 

That ne'er luvit ane but thee ! 

His saddest, and his last. 

And oh ! think on the cauld, cauld mools. 

No other theme to him is dear 

That file my yellow hair- 

Than lofty deeds of thine: 

That kiss the cheek, and kiss the chin, 

Hush'd be the strain thou canst not hear. 

Ye never sail kiss mair ! 

Last of a mighty line. 


mu%t nf a itigftlaw^ <^Ud. 

[Jamhs Hogg.— Air, "Malcohn of the Glen."J 
Was ever old warrior of suffering so weary ? 

[Set to music by E. A. Smith.] 

Was ever the wild beast so bayed in his den ? 
The Southron blood hounds lie in kennels so neai 

Hos of the mighty and the free. 

That death would be freedom to Callufti-a-Glen. 

Loved leader of the faithful brave. 

Was it for high-rank'd chief like thee 

My chief they have slain, and of stay have bereft me. 

To fill a nameless grave ? 

My sons are all slain and my daughters have left 

Oh, hadst thou slumber'd with the slain. 

me ; [ten. 

Had glory's death-bed been tliy lot. 

No child to protect me, where once there was 

Even though on red CuUoden's plain. 

And woe to the grey hairs of Callum-a-Glen. 

We then had mourn 'd thee not. 

The homes of my kindred are blazing to heaven, 

But darkly closed thy mom of fame. 

The bright sun of morning has blushed at the 

That mom whose sunbeams rose so fair : 


Eevenge alone may breathe thy name. 

The moon has stood still on the verge of the even. 

The watch-word of despair. 

To wipe from her pale cheek the tint of the dew: 

Yet, oh, if gallant spirit's power 

For the dew it lies red on the vales of Lochaber ; 

Has e'er ennobled death like thine. 

It sprinkles the cot and it flows from the pen. 

Then glory mark'd thy parting hour. 

The pride of my country is fallen for ever ! 

Last of a mighty line. 

Death, hast thou no shaft for old Callum-a-Glen? 

O'er thy own bowers the sunshine falls. 

The sun in his glory has looked on our sorrow. 

But cannot cheer their lonely gloom ; 

The stars have wept blood over hamlet and lea: 

Those beams that gild thy native walls 

Oh, is there no day-spring for Scotland? no morrow 

Are sleeping on thy tomb. j 

<f Of bright renovation for souls of the free ? 

154 aOORiBH 80V0& 

T«:«MaboT*anhMlMhtldoard««<otlMt A 
Oar valoor MMl aoth •!« not hid fkon hb km I 

Tb* daj k aMdlag of Km ntonntkm 
On an th« proad tea «r old G»llWB-»«lM. 

3)o]bii 9o^. 

Brs a tmfbl* mu. John Tod, John Tod, 

Ho*! • tMTfbU mnn, John Tod; 
Ho noM* in tho how*, ho Molda aft tho deer. 

Ho noldo In the rttj hlo rand, John Tod, 

Ho noldo in Um VM7 hlo rond. 

TIm wonna a' kar John Tod, John Tod, 

The woant a' fear John Tod ; 
When hoi poMlng bgr. the naochan will oty, 

Bomli an ill woan, John Tod, John Tod, 

Horn an 01 waan, John Ted. 

Tho oallanta a* fear John Tod, John 1M, 
The eallanta a' fear John Tod ; 

V Umt ataal bat a naop, tha hrfdto hail whip, 
And ifa ■nee wool dona or John Ted, John Tod, 
And ttlnneo wool doM ^ John Tod. 

And aaw fa nao llttla John 1M, John 1M r 

O oaw yo nao Uttlo John Ted ? 
HlaaheoBUM]r««ni«la,and hb feat ttagr ««• 

Bat alont doH he iuw on Um road, John 1M, 
Bat Matt da« he SBi« on the nad. 

How ia he fendln', John Tod, John Tod ? 

How ia he fendin*. John Ted? 
Ho la aeoortn' the land wi* a nmf in hia hand. 

And the Franeh wadan MfhlM John Tod, 
John Tod. 

And the Ficneh wadna ftlfhiaa John Ttod. 


YeTa taatit and taUarM, John Ted } 
Wi* jrour auld atrlppitoowi 7« look malatUkaa lUla I 
Bat there'a nouaa in the Unin', John Tad, John 


Ho-a wool raapeoklt, John 1V)d, John iy>d. 
Hoi wool raapeddt, John Tod ; 

Thoof h a tarrlbia man, we'd a' gaaji wrang. 
If bo ahoukl leave oa. John Tod. John Tod, 
irha ahoald iMkve ua, John Tod. 




Bat,feith! heifer f 

r than hel eat, John 

Hladeablet la w^jfe, John Mant, John Mat, 

Hla dooMat la B^flt, John Mant, 
Rla ham dawn in I 

And hlaatoekfai^aie warfhiy fant, John Mmt. 

Be ewaaa Hhaa trooper, John Mant, John Meat. 

Be eweare Hha a traopar, John Mantt 
Be neir Mlaki at a lee, and hell fecfet wi* a Aae, 

TW Mm bt lihiiiitl hi the fent, John Mant. 

Be« wMka te the ridai, Join Mant, John Mant, 

I wf a daut. John 




The weaaa thejr let Aw wf John Mant, John MaaV 
The weane thagr fot ftni wf John Meat, 

Thajr hoot aai tfMf «qr aa *ay oae hhn pHt ky. 

Bat wMki thei^ ha iMda thoM a ilan^ John 

Ten a* hnx »^ lUmu 

The hMaaa a* le^ John Meat, John Mant, 

The hMOHa* k^ Joha Mantt 
Th^ aweor iti no tino, bat thar fit thMSMli im. 

Tba wtvaa ara fend o* John MaaU John Mant, 

The wiraa ate a* Ibad o' John Mantt 
Tbayaigrhelagran'.thejr neW mind their gaU 


Saa I fedd pa tak' tant o* John Mant, John Maat, 

I redd ye tak* taat o' John Mant) 
He*a no weal to ha<e fer a IHand or a fea, 

8ae 1 radd ye heap ont or hie ehMrt, Joha Mart. 




f 0, who would choose a crown. 

Wi' its perils and its fame. 

Wi^m tje \^t tnrnt Jame. 

And miss a bonnie lassie 
When the kye come hame ? 

[This spirited song by the Ettrick Shepherd 

See yonder pawky shepherd 

first appeared in his novel entitled "The Three 

That lingers on the hill— 

Perils of Man," 1821, 3 vols. It is sung to the old 

His yowes are in the fauld. 

tune of "The Blathrie o*t."] 

And his lambs are lying still; 
Yet he downa gang to rest. 

Come all ye jolly shepherds 

For his heart is in a flame 

That whistle through the glen. 

To meet his bonnie lassie 

I'll tell ye of a secret 

When the kye come hame. 

That courtiers dinna ken. 

What is the greatest bliss 

Awa' wi' fame and fortune— 

That the tongue o' man can name ? 

What comfort can they gi'e ?— 

'Tis to woo a bonnie lassie 

And a' the arts that prey 

When the kye come hame. 

On man's life and libertie ! 

When the kye come hame. 

Gi'e me the highest joy 

When the kye come hame. 

That the heart o' man can fi»me; 

'Tween the gloamin and the mirk. 

My bonnie, bonnie lassie. 

When the kye come hame. 

When the kye come hame. 

'Tis not beneath the burgonet. 

Nor yet beneath the crown. 

•Tis not on couch of velvet. 

Nor yet on bed of down : 

•Tis beneath the spreading birch. 
In the dell without a name, 

"^^t %tAm$ fei' mt. 

Wi' a bonnie, bonnie lassie. 

When the kye come hame. 

[James Hooo.— Air, "Driving the Steer."J 

There the blackbird bigs his nest 

I'l.L sing of yon glen o' red heather. 

For the mate he loves to see. 

An' a dear thing that ca's it her hame. 

And up upon the tapmost bough. 

Wha's a' made o' love life together. 

Oh, a happy bird is he ! 

Frae the tie o' the shoe to the kembe. 

Then he pours his melting ditty. 

Love beckons in ev'ry sweet motion. 

And love 'tis a' the theme. 

Commanding due homage to gi'e ; 

And he'll woo his bonrie lassie 

But the shrine of my dearest devotion 

When the kye come hame. 

Is the bend o' her bonnie e'e bree. 

When the bluart bears a pearl. 

I fleech'd and I pray'd the dear lassie 

And the daisy turns a pea. 

To gang to the biakens wi' me. 

And the bonnie lucken gowan 

But though neither lordly nor saucy. 

Has fauldit up his e'e. 

Her answer was, " Laith wUl 1 be. 

Then the laverock frae the blue lift 

Ah ! is it nae cruel to press me 

Draps down, and thinks nae shame 

To that which wad breed my heart wae. 

To woo his bonnie lassie 

An' try to entice a poor lassie 

When the kye come hame. 

The gate she's o'er ready to gae. 

Then the eye shines sae bright. 

" I neither ha'e father nor mither. 

The haill soul to beguile. 

Good counsel or caution to gi'e. 

There's love in every whisper. 

And prudence has whisper'd me never 

And joy in every smile ; < 

, To gang to the braltens wi' thee. 



800R18B MVOB. 

Bat •' «»d Iw tint, wtthoot blUng, 

•• Daw kMfa, how OBS 9« apteaU at, 

For ]r* •>• tb* riehMk yooac My 
TiMt cw fMd «« tlw ytk-MllB ? 

Toar ■nUa ttet b bilth« thuioay. 
The bend e* TOUT nasy •V^na, 

Ab4 tte lof»4iBBks aMBtli It «■ bemdi 

TtaMM joy la tte Mytkt MooBlBff telB«» 
WiMB lo«« lailB la avwy fpaag tet; 

Thm'kioy la tht bwatiM cT aatan^ 
Thara-sjof la tte daaet aa4 tte wtaw t 

lad ttet b 10 low and «» Airirii 
Tho ftod llttk hMit thart oar alB. 

®l^f JrlotDft 0* 9«iAltiif . 

iTun m 

by TAimAaitA, and oM to aMMie bjr B. ▲. ftBttk, 
wM ftnt latoodaaod 10 tiM pabte la tlwywr Un. 
"TiMtblid ^ .. - 


wlMPd M%M la ta Mmm Ik* Mwt tooMT or 

flta«oa4hoa owaHawwIi, tlqrh9«Hititk*flf«alBt, 
Thoa'rt dMT to llM oAooi of CbMv«M« ilw I 

How ko» won av 4iV« <in I Ml •<* "V 'm^ 
Tho ipoMi or iho d^ oMBod tea* aad «al 

I Bt^ oftw a agraipk 1 ooaM oa' aqr Awr boili 
m ekafiMd wl* awoot J«^ tk* flowor o^ I 

flnWMd. TlMpoot,**lMadd^**kadaopartlw 
lar Adr oao la hlo «y* at tho IIM, aad Joiii wao 
qoMo aa Iniglnanr paiBinji " Tto tnrtk H 
TuuMhm wmto tho word! to a^flMt tho eM 
> or DaaMaMT^-ki 

itltlo. HoBovor WMla Daablaao^featft 


Icoi MB tho oua fo dewa oror *• M^ ] 

Tax OBB haa IBM dowa oW llM kAy Bn LoHMBd, 

And Ml tlw rod oloadoto fVHldoo^tfMflaoaa, 
While lonely I otfay. Ib tko calm rianav gkamla*. 

To mii« oa cwwi JMilt, tfio doworo^ DaablHM. 
How tweot li the briw, wl* Mi nil kaldlB* UooHml 

And twoH It the bilk, wl' Hi naaHo or pooB I 
Tot i wool w and ddror. and diar to tkh koooo^ 

li lovolj yeaag JMiio, thi fc w 

Aad laokoa aBMolhli«thi M^torHiil 

[TliM boaaMri Mag wBO wilttM Igr TAjmABitx 
tolkaoMalrofBoBBloOBBdiOw- Mr. Booi of 
Atirlinaliii UBipiiiiilatBaofcrit. Olnlftr 
bwwofcata^iiBlilifainiioifc aooiofPiiJiy.) 


» thoy te^ mank'4 mg doar 


Am n ttl^ aroaad ao wao biytha 

Vow aaUhli^ to hwud bat tho wlad wlitolllac 
to MB bot tfao wMo ^idli^ 

wao to a^y 
Tli wtaitw wl* tlMBi aad *tfi wlatv wT BM^ 


Ton cauld sleety cloud skiffs alang the bleak moun- '^ Come as the winds come, when 


Forests are rended : 

And shakes the dark firs on the stey rocky brae. 

Come as the waves come, when 

While down the deep glen brawls the snaw -flooded 

Navies are stranded. 


Faster come, faster come. 

That murmur'd sae sweet to my laddie and me. 

Faster and faster : 

It's no its loud roar on the wintry winds swellin'. 

Chief, vassal, page, and groom. 

It's no the cauld blast brings the tear to my e'e , 

Tenant and master. 

For, ! gin I saw but my bonnie Scots callan. 

The dark days o' winter were simmer to me. 

Fast they come, fast they come ; 
See how they gather ; 

Wide waves the eagle plume. 
Blended with heather. 

Wi^tm^ d mmuil D|)io 

Cast your plaids, draw your blades, 

Forward each man set; 
Pibroch of Donuil Dhu, 

[The "Pibroch of Donald the Black" is a very 

Now for the onset 1 

ancient pibroch belonging to Clan Macdonald, 

and supposed to refer to the expedition of Donald 

Balloch, who, in 1431, launched from the isles 

with a considerable force, invaded Lochaber, and 

at Inverlochy defeated and put to flight the Earls 

of Mar and Caithness, though at the head of an 
army superior to his own. The song here given 

ilMscgw|ciD:'0 fei|!ww§» 

was written by Sm Walter Scott for Campbell's 

Albyn's Anthology, 1816. It may also be seen set 

[Thkse verses were written by Sir Walter 

to music in Thomson's collection, 1830.] 

ScoTT for Albyn's Anthology in 1816. They are 
adapted to a very wild, yet hvely gathering-tune. 

Pibroch of Donuil Dhu, 

used by the Macgregors. The severe treatment of 

Pibroch of Donuil, 

tnis clan, their outlawry, and the very proscrip- 

Wake thy wild voice anew. 

tion of their name, are alluded to here.] 

Summon Clan Conuil. 

Come away, come away. 

The moon's on the lake, and the mist's on the brae, 

Hark to the summons; 

And the clan has a name that is nameless by day- 

Come in your war array. 

Then gather, gather, gather, Grigalach ! 

Grentles and commons! 

Our signal for fight, which from monarchs we drew, 

Come from deep glen, and 

Must be heard but by night, in our vengeful hal- 

From mountain so rocky, 


The war-pipe and pennon 

Then halloo, halloo, halloo, Grigalach ! 

Are at Inverlochy. 

Come every hiU-plaid, and 

Glenorchy's proud mountains, Calchuim and her 

True heart that wears one ; 


Come every steel blade, and 

Glenstrae, and Glenlyon, no longer are ours— 

Strong hand that bears one ! 

We're landless, landless, landless, Grigalach! 

Leave the deer, leave the steer. 

But. doomed and devoted by vassal and lord. 

Leave nets and barges ; 

Come vtdth your fighting gear. 

Then courage, courage, courage, Grigalach J 

Broadswords and targes. 

Leave untended the herd. 

If they rob ua of name, and pursue us with beagles. 

The flock without shelter; 

Give their roof to the flames, and their flesh to the 

Leave the corpse uninterr'd. 

eagles— [Uich ! 

The bride at the altar. ^ 

I, Then vengeance, vengeance, vengeance, Griga* 


flOOmSR 80H08. 
B tb* fbfot, or tam oa tlM 4 

SonalD Caitl). 

[Wkittw \if 8ni Wai.t«» Boott kr Attrnti 
▲Btholosy. Tol. U. 1818, mhI Mt to mwle Is Mr. 
•rhomwo't ooUwtkm, ISSL] 

DowAio OAOia't eooM apda I 
Donald Giirdi eooM i«ite i 
1W Um nrw* In bragh and gbn, 
Donuld Gkbd*! oooM afidal 

DoMld ObM cMi HM and *«, 

Drink tiU tlM gndmutt b* bBad, 

Hoop • kslu, doot n p«a. 
Or cnMk a pow wl' ooy ann t 
1W1 tlM am* tai brush and gl« 
Donald curd's eooM afate. 

B* oaa wank wlNn tkiy am « 
Mot Ibr bonntlth, or rNrard, 
Daor thqr niaU wt* Donald QiM. 

FMtatbuoUi wlfc 

WlMn iMH Am bo^ itoal and MOiT. 
Koopt tha eantlo o* tho cnaMj : 
HlghhMMl ^Icfand Lawlaad laM 
Maun fl** w«jr to Donald Qilrl. 

Btoek tho awmrte, lock the hlrt, 
KIm ooom gear will mar ba mltti 
Donah! Oafa<d llnda orm thhigf 
Wbm Allan Oregor tend tho tiafti 
Donta o* kabbnok. talti o' woo, 
WbilM a hm and whOa a too ; 
Weba or dads tnm badge or Tmrd— 
Wan Um waddle, Donald GMrd ! 

GMg to Mlb«. hvi to aim ( 
Ba»OaMldQiM.«r ^ 
«r aim. and 

[Tua Mt. Chomb old. waa aetiaoertad bi 
aaj i^akr liPiaHnn af flBoMbb oonfi tffl that 
orDafMBMdtalTli. - Tbeta h aMrtber eet o( 

Saw yo mjr Maggie^ 

What wtfk hM yoor MaggK 
What 0HMfc baa 9«v Maggla, 

That aM MV km bar *«r (fey). 

qnotod part, to be Iba oM 
In ~ '■" 

I have 

Vmmmtni wblla that wbleb I tobe to ba tho old 
aoi^ b In trmj db igb i wl li m oa l b "J 



! how Peggy charms me ; i 
Every look still warms me; 

^ "^tu^ a "^mli^ 

Every thought alarms me; 

Lest she lo'e nae me. 

[This is an extension by Burns of a Jacobite 

Peggy (loth discover 

fragment beginning, " Here's a health to ane that's 

Nought but charms all over : 

awa'." It was found among the poet's papers 

Nature bids me love her ; 

after his death, and first published in its complete 

That's a law to me. 

form in the Scots Magazine for January, 1818.] 

Who would leave a lover. 

Hebe's a health to them that's awa'. 

To become a rover? 

Here's a health to them that's awa' ; 

No, I'll ne'er give over. 

And wha winna wish guid luck to our cause. 

Till I happy be. 

May never guid luck be their fa' ! 

For since love inspires me. 

It's guid to be merry and wise. 

As her beauty fires me. 

It's guid to be honest and true. 

And her absence tires me. 

It's guid to support Caledonia's cause. 

Nought can please but she. 

And bide by the buff and the blue, f 

When I hope to gain her. 

Here's a health to them that's awa'. 

Fate seems to detain her; 

Here's a health to them that's awa' ; 

Could I but obtain her. 

Here's a health to Charlie,! the chief o' the clan. 

Happy would I be 

Although that his band be but sma'. 

I'll lie down before her. 

May liberty meet with success ! 

Bless, sigh, and adore her. 

May prudence protect her frae evil! 

With faint looks implore her. 

May tyrants and tyranny tine in the mist. 

Till she pity me. 

And wander their way to the devil ! 
Here's a health to them that's awa'. 

Here's a health to them that's awa' ; 
Here's a health to Tammie, || the Norland laddie. 
That lives at the lug o' the law : 

®i)e ^mi ftaf ^ atoa\ 

Here's freedom to him that wad read. 

Here's freedom to him that wad write I 
There's nane ever fear'd that the truth should be 

[Written by Mb. Dunlop, late collector at 


the custom-house, Port-Glasgow.] 

But they wham the truth wad indite. 

Hebe's to the year that's awa' • 

Here's a health to them that's awa'. 

We wUl drink it in strong and in sma' ; 

Here's a health to them that's awa' ; 

And here's to ilk bonnie young lassie we lo'ed. 

Here's chieftain M*Leod,§ a chieftain worth gowd. 

While swift flew the year that's awa'. 

Though bred amang mountains o' snaw ! 

And here's to ilk, &c. 

Here's a health to them that's awa'. 
Here's a health to them that's awa' ; 

Here's to the sodger who bled. 

And wha winna wish guid luck to our cause. 

And the sailor who bravely did fa' ; 

May never guid luck be their fa' ! 

Their fame is alive, though their spirits are fled 

On the wings of the year that's awa'. 

Their fame is alive, &c. 

f The colour of the Whigs. The striped waLst- 

Here's to the Mends we can trust. 

coat, which figures so prominently in the portroiifl 

When the storms of adversity blaw; 

of Burns, was buff and blue. 

May they live in our song, and be nearest our hearts. 

% The Eight Hon. Charles James Fox. 

Nor depart like the year that's awa'. 

II LordErskine. 

May they live, &c. < 

^ § M'Leod, chief of that clan. 


Vnue'$( aiDl)te)^. 

■corrtffif ioNot. 

lull iniliili «• 

It «M aB iM kiii «rtht Mi«*— 

Ing that bttftat 

wHh moM pntfoalv ■tlwIliiB, Iw tkei«M tt 

mneh teMv adapttd lor gl*la« 

poetfy thra ** Lewi* Oovteo." TlM Ibm of 

"Bey, tatti* Uiti^ It mm of 

Miti^ty. Barvtai|«tkMlWBMtwMi*tmll* 

tion la nraj parti «r ■h«Im4, tfM H 

■ •rBMM*- 

bom. Thh tradttlM li dMpvlid fegr BUms, «■ 
tlM - - - - - 

I, and by tiM iiyiwiBniHia 
or oMm willm » te back M «IM IMi cMtaiy. 
wlioairffBtolli»80Dlakaa4 IfWi a M|k ■!■•• 
of pwftgtfoa to tW niidiil art. •'B^.IbMI* 
talUt"hMbwiwwnJ»i|iHiMHab»tiw— i 
tan* ai *« B«y now tbt «ay^«K* wMoaiJ t^ 
Duofaar and olh«> BeettMb forti of ttw ilstMtk 
erataiy, and fcr whM ilwaaiw llo«t|OBni| 



On lOfan wna tjMf 
How •kainh the dTK 
Tb« alsht !• MAr gon 

In a VS. Lat0 Book, bowrrpr, of Oordon ofS t ia* 
looh, IflV, Um air of '* Tb« dajr dawto** Is gtmrn, 
and It dUkn t'*>^ (^o"> t^ tma In ^ 
aa n la now gmomllr raotlvid. W* know of no 
Mtniloa of Um wonb '* Rcy. tattto tahto.- ba-^ 


VOTTa Ika dar . M« BOT^ ttw tow: 
■m Ito frnrt aTkMla lovi 

WW will ba a IfaMar lm«» ^ 
Wtowmmaai i w ai d l igBwa> 


F » aidofM award wm a^BBfly draw. 

ly iili ii l uu 'b wmm aad yataa. 
Br yoaraoaa la wrrOt ahalna, 
Wa wm diato ear daaiart fttea, 

Uy Ito yroad warpara towl 
Tomato ftdllB amy fba f 

Lvt tt* do or dial 


#Vt iill unh Mh riamte\ 

O'ER hill and dale roamin', at day da^vn or gloamin', 

At kirk, or at market, or dance on the green. 
Now Bosa's beauty praisin', now sad and silent gazin'. 

Now sighin' and vowin', young Donald was seen. 
With frowns she met his glances, with sneers his fond advances. 

She laugh'd when he spak' with the tear in his e'e. 
And sprung away flauntin', some idle chorus chauntin'. 

Whene'er he sigh'd " Rosa! thou'rt dear, dear to me." 

The youth tir'd with doubtin', and teaz'd by her floutin'. 

Grew proud, and resented her scorning ere long. 
No more fond vows breathing — for others wild flowers wreathing. 

He mark'd not her beauty, nor thrill'd at her song. 
Though her neck was the whitest, her blue eyes the brightest, 

He vaunted of maiden's more lovely than she ; 
Whose eyes tender languish would charm all his anguish, 

And sigh'd no more "Rosa, thou'rt dear, dear to me." 

Proud hearts wdll be changing, soon Rosa was ranging. 

Pale, waesome, and weeping, and ghaist-likc alane. 
Through scenes that once delighted, though now lone and blighted. 

Unblest by the vows she might ne'er hear again. 
But, ah ! love 's not thrown off, as spring-flowers are blown off. 

Her truant was waitin' beside the hawthorn tree ; 
He threw his arms around her, and oh I so kind he found her, 

They murmur'd together, " Thou'rt dear, dear to me." 

[Joseph Macorboor.— Air, " Kinloch of Kinloch."] 
How blythely the pipe through Glenlyon was sounding. 

At morn when the clans to the merry dance hied ; 
And gay were the love-knots, o'er hearts fondly bounding. 

When Ronald woo'd Flora, and made her his bride. 
But war's banner streaming, soon chang'd their fond dreanung,— 

The battle cry echoed around and above ; 
Broad claymores were glancing, and war-steeds were prancing; 

Up, Ronald ! to arms for home and your love. 

All was hush'd o'er the hill, where love linger'd despairing. 

With her bride-maids still deck'd in their gay festal gear 1 
And she wept as she saw them fresh garlands preparing, 

Which might laurel Love's brow, or be strew'd o'er his bier I 
Put, cheer thee, fond maiden — each wild breeze is laden 

With victory's slogan, through mountain and grove ; 
Where death streams were gushing, and war-steeds were ruahiug. 

Lord Ronald has conquer'd for home and for love J 



Vffeabf sotttKf r before folk. 

wood, la taRM ef hich flOBOM 
• rVvth.] 



It tmdiM gi^ ■» Bdlte paiiS 
€Mb «« WH* MMi and hMvd tqr « 
To tak* a kki, or gnmi !«■ mm; 


WtelHv 9* do, wkM oirt a' vl«». 

O* nmMBt In 

If or gN fha tOiWM «^ MM or f 

ItM M tkvBiVli krtnd «r A Ui^ 

Thm I «• plalaly Ml im ttlii 

BBt.loihl IteTllMlmriM 

T» to «• «MHd bitav Mk, 

Wton ««^ ear Ibm y nay tak* aa% 
B«t Acnt a tm totoa folk. 

I'm mv wl* jva !*«• tow aa tim 
As oojr aaodatt kMi Aoold to { 

in pa^BT MtoaH again to l»— 

T« tdl me that nqr tMt li adrt 

As ye tot dom totot Mk. 

Vor toat BV atodB wT Toar Mad fteaka. 

Te trfl M Ikat ay «pa Ma ae^M. 
Mr talH, I daato, an a' «Mrfl» 
▲ta - 

That X ikoaM Mftr to to UiTtf, 
Oaa, pK a Bhm tea tto prtMi. 



Oan aa gM^ gyto kdbM Mk 7 

la a* fM do^ to «* ye m^, 
Te^ rta a pawUa eaaidaf ««g. 
Ttoi aiy pear erlii ye lad atonjr* 
▲a* dk« M dsM kitee Mk ! 
WkO* ye eMHM, oaa I •atoar 
Ta kki yea. tfM«k k*n Mk ^ 


nal Bpk Bto BmH teklddn ftolt, 
■t, pfanv, aa* ilpa, MM tnpli ■ 
1 1 BMaa pvM^ tkeagk I AoaM 


Can I behave, can I behave, • 

When Jockie's far awa' at sea. 

Can I behave before folk. 

When Jockie's far awa'. 

When temptingly it offers me 

But what are a' thae joys to me. 

So rich a treat— before folk? 

When Jockie's far awa' ? 

That gowden hair Bae sunny bright ; 

Last May mom how sweet to see 

That shapely neck o' snavi-y white ; 

The Uttle lambkins play. 

That tongue, even when it tries to flyte. 

Whilst my dear lad, alang wi' me. 

Provokes me tiU't before folk ! 

Did kindly walk this way. 

Can I behave, can I behave. 

On yon green bank wild flow'rs he pou'd, 

Can I behave before folk. 

To busk my bosom braw ; 

When Ilka charm, young, fresh, an' warm. 

Sweet, sweet he talk'd, and aft he vow'd. 

Cries, "kiss me now"— before folk? 

But now he's far awa'. 
But now, &c. 

An' ! that pawkie, rowin' e'e. 

Sae roguishly it blinks on me. 

gentle peace return again. 

1 canna, for my saul, let be. 

Bring Jockie to my arms. 

Frae kissing you before folk ! 

Frae dangers on the raging main. 

Can I behave, can I behave. 

Frae cruel war's alarms. 

Can I behave before folk. 

Gin e'er we meet, nae mair we'll part 

When ilka glint conveys a hint 

As lang's we've breath to draw; 

To tak' a smack— before folk ? 

Nae mair I'll sing wi' aching heart. 
My Jockie's fkr awa'. 

Ye own, that were we baith our lane. 

My Jockie's, &c. 

Ye wadna grudge to grant me ane; 

Weel, gin there be nae harm in't then. 

What harm is in't before folk ? 

Can I behave, can I behave. 
Can I behave before folk. 

IV^ m t^ut tj^nn'mit Umk, • 

Sly hypocrite ! an anchorite 

Could scarce desist— before folk ! 


But after a' that has been said. 

It's no that thou'rt bonnie, it's no that thou'rt 

Since ye are willing to be wed. 


We'll ha'e a " blythsome bridal " made. 

It's no that tliy skin has the whiteness o' gnaw. 

When ye'U be mine before folk ! 

It's no that thy form is perfection itsel', [tell; 

Then I'll behave, then I'll behave. 

That mak's my heart feel what my tongue canna 


Then I'll behave before folk ; 

But oh ! it's the soul beaming out frae thine e'e. 

For whereas then, ye'll aft get " ten," 

That mak's thee sae dear and sae lovely to me. 

It winna be before folk ! 

It's pleasant to look on that mild blushing face, 
Sae sweetly adorn'd wi' ilk feminine grace. 

' 3l^cMe'^ im aitoa\ 

It's joyous to gaze on these tresses sae bright, 
O'ershading a forehead sae smooth and sae white; 

[Walter Watson.] 

But to dwell on the glances that dart frae thine e'e. 

Jeanie ! it's evendown rapture to me. 

2?ow simmer decks the fields wi' flow'rs. 

The woods wi' leaves so green ; 

That form may be wasted by lingering decay. 

And little birds around their bow'rs. 

The bloom of that cheek may be wither'd away. 

In harmony convene : 

Those gay gowden ringlets that yield such delight. 

The cuckoo flies from tree to tree. 

By tlie cauld breath o' time may be changed into 

Whilst saft the zephyrs blaw ; 

white ; 

But what are a' thae joys to me. 

But the soul's fervid flashes that brighten thine e'e, 

When Jockie's far awa' ? i 

f-. Are the offspring o' heaven, and never can die. 

-^_ J 



tteMMvt, M Tn>«h,I'na«»'lMM«»af ■Mtar.IwOlt 

Wiut ! iMt* wf • BMB at ik> ia* if A Ml ? 


1/ MmM wl* llM Utht or HKJ kwwBlr vu 

I'll aioa' i^ame. 

[Albs. Booova.— Air, ** lairA V OockptD.'^ 

O f I'LL mrnm' luum to ay arilhw, 1 wfll, 
Aa' 111 a«a' Ihbm la a^ slilMr, I will: 
Otaf I lany wl* yaa I aaj inaM «f MaM m. 
Tbaa I« amm* hana to ay aiiltar, I «flL 

It^i wMfte* to gtaMBhiV as* «a« «fl 

An* tte llil^ Bitte bah* aw Ika* k^pwd to 

Wb« *a SMd to tlH tnr* wl' wm W»tt •' tbt 

Hat I'D awa* haaM to aigr aallhar, I wfll, 
flat III antf kaM to njr toMkv, 1 iHH, 
tat rn aaa* iMBM to aqr toliih«» I «ttl t 
A aUlk*^ InMa It Ika adtol flaw «■ i 
VlMa I'D waa* taaw to aqr «llfc«» I «IIL 

Mr arflhv aft gliN ato a tollk 

Aa* «ana ma to dwB Ik avfMMM* «r B I 
Thaa 111 awa* haoN to to7 toHbar, I wfB, 
O! IHaim'toanatotof aillktotlwfll* 
A|a i in atta* toaoa toaqrtoMkto, I wdli 
Sha toya, M I biaw. I Maaa afta Mak * yfl { 
Waal-in awa* haaM totoytotlkto* I wffl. 

Biiiati aayil iirt aaalt kaSa a aaai a^ito 

Saff 1 1 in aiaar kaaw to av ■!*»• t a>B. 
Boat! Itl aaa* k«aa to tof toMar, t «■. 

Saak* tollt Ikat laMa Ik* wlto aftM •rffi { 
Coom! Illawa'kaaatoaaymUkw.IwIB. 

Ta flaltor aad paalM aa, aa* liBk aaaa Ma. 
Pi«toBdta« I* »tik aqr aftMtoa to ^to t 
Bat I ftar yaar ato aada ya JM aatol to tun I 
Loik I rn aava* kaaa to aiy aMMT, 1 VOL 

Okaai I 111 awa* kaaia to av toMkto, I arm, 
Saiainiaaa'iMBato ' ' '" 

Oak I II aaa* kato* to Mf artlkar, I wVL 

Ta^ra ktoPi af aiy todMT to fMT aa* faai kfMi. 
Aa* !• kM Ikal Bk paaad li^ a akaaai to a hHi t 
Bat If feaaia ka My knaHiiw yaar lava'a aasa 

Ud! niaaa'kaiaatoaaraMMr.twB 

Tratfit I«aaa'kaaaatoai7toMtar,I«1B, 
Tm i in a«a' kaaa to aiy mMkto, I wflli 
For in aaw IM M Vf^ tV Ika Mart ar a fBill, 
Bat in a«a* kaai totof i^dMT 1 fpO. 

I If>waaaa#MtyaBkM M| aif, 


Haek I in aaa* kaaa* to My MMkM, I wB I 
O! inawa'kaaMtoaayBBUkir, ItrfBi 
Tm, m awa' kana to aqr adtbcr, I wOli 

I'm yoang yal, aa* itmfkt, Md ka^i tttthikaii 

aa* m awa- baaw to My aattkar, I irfiL 

■aa, m aMal yaa m 

Wmr, inawa* kaawtoaRjadakar, I wtii 
Tm, in awa* kaaM to a«y,adlkM, I wlB, 
Voir, in aa«' koaa to aiy mMmt, I wWt 

B»4BMnal, ba rfaaMa,aa*yrw aaleaaw haekalOI. 

Aa* III >«t b* yttor tin a* thcdUMr. I wUL 

'S^ii J^U) d lElunmoie. 

Par nana bat ootmI^ aaa I bm kaaabaam 
Aa- Ika illHl««4y Mlla yaar kMd auy pa» »- 

Fkl«a> I'll awa* ham* to mjr mitlwr, 1 wlM. 


Itopata^ atoM^ baf^A WM Ika daa^ 
- - - prttoaaaka 

aad lavar *a kM«ahkad tfaaac 


But a little bird sang at this fair captive's grate, ^ 'Deed, lad, quo' she, your offer's fe-ir. 

And seem'd as it chirrup'd, to soften her fate. 

I really think I'U tak' it. 

Ah ! Flora, fair Flora,— ah ! Flora Macdonald ! 

Sae, gang awa', get out the mare. 

Ah ! Flora, the maid of Dunmore— 

We'll baith slip on the back o't; 

The maid of Dunmore, the maid of Dunmore, 

For gin I wait my father's time. 

Ah ! weep for the maid, the maid of Dunmore ! 

I'll wait till I be fifty; 
But na ;— I'll marry in my prime. 

The maid tied a note to this little bird's neck. 

An' mak' a wife most thrifty. 

And pointed to home, like a far distant speck. 

O'er land and o'er water away the bird fle\v, 

AVow ! Robin was an angry man. 

Sought kinsman and lover;— the courier they 

At tyning 0' his dochter : 


Through a' the kintra-side he ran. 

But soon a brave knight burst the prison-house 

An' far an' near he sought her ; 


But when he cam' to our fire-end. 

A nd rescued his bride from the tow'r of Dunmore. 

An' fand us baith thegither. 

Ah ! Flora, fair Flora,— ah ! Flora Macdonald ! 

Quo' I, gudeman, I've ta'en your bairn, 

Ah : Flora, the maid of Dunmore— 

An' ye may tak' my mither. 

The maid of Dunmore, the maid of Dunmore, 

Ah ! joy to the maid, the maid of Dunmore ! 

Auld Robin girn'd an* sheuk his pow, 
Guid sooth ! quo' he, you're merry. 

But I'll just tak' ye at your word. 
An' end this hurry-burry ; 

So Robin an' our auld wife 

0i^ mii'^n mm*L 

Agreed to creep thegither; 

Now, I ha'e Robin Tamson's pet. 

An' Robin has my mither. 

[A LEX. RoDGEK.— Air, " The Comclips."] 

My mither men't my auld breeks, 

An' wow ! but they were duddy. 

And sent me to get Mally shod 

At Robin Tamson's smiddy ; 

<Bmn M%^. 

The smiddy stands beside the burn 

That wimples through the clachan. 

I never yet gae by the door. 

[This is one of " Peggy's" songs in Ramsay's 

But aye I fa' a-laughin'. 

"Gentle Shepherd." There were older words 
than Ramsay's to the tune of " Corn Rigs," the 

For Robin was a walthy carle. 

chorus of which was— 

An' had ae bonnie dochter. 
Yet ne'er wad let her tak' a man. 
Though mony lads had sought her; 

" 0, com rigs, and rye rigs, 
And corn rigs are bonnie. 
And gin ye meet a bonnie lass. 

And what think ye 0' my exploit ?— 
The time our mare was shoeing. 

Prin up her cockemony." 

I slippit up beside the lass. 

Gay selected the tune for one of his songs in the 

An' briskly fell a-wooing. 

opera entitled " Polly," printed in 1729.] 

An' aye she e'ed my auld breeks. 

My Patie is a lover gay ; 

The time that we sat crackin'. 

His mind is never muddy ; 

Quo' I, my lass, ne'er mind the cloutn. 

His breath is sweeter than new hay ; 

I've new anes for the makin' ; 

His face is fair and ruddy. 

But gin ye'll just come hame wi' me. 

' His shape is handsome middle size ; 

An' lea' the carle, your father. 

! He's stately in his walking ; 

Ye'se get my breeks to keep in trim. 

} The shining of his een surprise ; 

Mysel', an' a' thegither. ^ 

^ 'Tis heaven to hear him talking. 






soomsR soifOik 

l« kknfl. Ml «v»ia hi wad to BlM, 

4 I iMlt bM* b 


• wbut bmM tiMrrt «aalli« i 

[Tats was aa «Brtr ptoJ a otfoa «f BoaanX 
wilMHi talk* old ttuM «r ** Oon Blii.'* AMdt 
B(MMdd,aflw«Bvdi Mia. Pufaaa cf iftmhw^ 
b aid to hata bMB tka iB^lnr or liM m«.) 

Tha Hb» fcw ty wf IiiIIih >wd. 

IB, •«MM UN laat aB< «Hr. 
Wf na* |i liiB rf» apaad, 

Tb m M tkt«i«k tka bMlir. 

Tha il7 a>aa Mm, tlM wliid «aa am. 

Tha BMKw WM ridat^ alMitr> 
I Mft bar dawa, «l* i%la food will. 


I l0T<d bar motl 

I loeM bar la aqr Ibod MBbnaal 
Hw haait waa iMatlaff laialjri 

My MMtefi aa that ham plan. 
Amaag tht tip o* barlajr ! 

Bat bgr tha moon and itais mm 

Mm aia than biMi that 1m4>|7 B%lit, 
AnHuif tbt ifp a* hariiv. 


right wMwortiittB 

SKifif, come iMMi, 

tfM WaliW*alHinl»By Wlln itii 


Wma, aaaM hana. 



Owa «r *a yaa^ blaaaa ar MTB aa ttgr baai 
Obm aff tiM lawa alar a^ law la «Maa aX 

Oana wf Ik* Hd ak«if« ftpa «B Hv ■»■*, 
A* gMrtr wT balBs ■» tfH daw as Iha lM( 

Osa wriki lavid iMirii ftl^l^ Ihr hair, 
0pm «ff Ifcy laa* ahnki a* dhavM arr glai, 

Oaa* wf Uv aaa ilip, aad « 

O 07 hnrt waaHM «yir, 
Oaaaa wl* oar lofa pladga. oar dMT m«* dawHa. 

OoBM lit BM bmU* aad paaB ^a waa prttli, 

OMta« OS Oka awaat ftataia o^ thMi 
O bat tha hooH li a OHdd haao wtthaat la. 

laMr aad OMlo^ tha 1Mb that I diaa I 
O aoBM aana* aa* 111 daaa* laaad a h w it ya. 

Tarn Btiv aialB wte tea «y anH IB I dM. 



Eai^^k, of), Uabt mt^ 

[Joseph Macqreook.] 


Down whar the bumie rins whimplin* and cheery. 
When leva's star was smilin* ; I met wi' my dearie ; 
Ah ! vain was its smilin', she wadna believe me. 
But said wi* a saucy air, " Laddie, Oh ! leave me, 
" Leave me, leave me, laddie. Oh! leave me." 


" I've lo'ed thee o'er truly to seek a new dearie, 
I've lo'ed thee o'er fondly, through Ufe e'er to weary, 
I've lo'ed thee o'er lang, love, at last to deceive thee: 
Look cauldly or kindly, but bid me not leave thee." 

Leave thee, leave thee, &o, 

" There's nae ither saft e'e that fills me wi' pleasure. 
There's nae ither rose-lip has half o' its treasure. 
There's nae ither bower, love, shall ever receive me. 
Till death break this fond heart— oh, then I maun leave thee. " 
Leave thee, leave thee, &c. 

The tears o'er her cheeks ran like dew frae red roses ; 
What hope to the lover one tear-drop discloses ; 
1 kiss'd them, and blest her, at last to relieve me 
Bhe yielded her hand, and sigh'd, " Oh ! never leave me." 
Leave me, leave me, &c. 

FuKOET na', dear lassie, when I'm far frae thee. 

Forget na' the tear that may steal frae my ee ; 

Oh think on the time we sae happy ha'e been ; 

Oh think on the wandering beneath the moon's beam. 

I vnll think on the tear thou wilt shed when alone. 
And fondly remember each dear woodland scene, 
I'll bless the sweet smile, that still woo'd me to thee. 
And hope, sweetly smiling, will gladden my ee. 

1 see the rose fading, dear maid, on thy cheek, 
I feel the heart thi-obbings, thy anguish that speak ; 
But let the tear-drop nor sorrow be thine. 
Peace rest in thy bosom, and sorrow be mine. 

When 'midst the rude storm on the wide-swelling sea. 
Fond fancy will turn to this hour, love, wi' thee; 
I'll sigh to the billows to waft me ashore, 
^ To pjirt frae my hame and my lassie no more. 


A Lofd B«Bkatlim «M *Mh 

»«ttlt of MitM-iKkiu 


the 13th HovHibv, ms, Ut w— Uw tavni oT 
tlMroTal annymdv JotafDolMorAicfK ■■' 
tba«ortteGte«allv«Dd« Joha, bri«rilar. 

WMi Lovi LoaaM QH«Mli(i) 


• p>rtkil7« 
— tlM right wtagi or both i 

phMt, and fh* Wl wtaiii mrtid. Vpoa thk n Wmrmt m m m m i W Mn ii i i ^ t 

iliiwilMiw Ihi WMhit <■ bodi iJii niioi j Vor tar «Mgr dMsM «■! hla. « 

of tha hmov «r th« MBgi t» whUh tht taltfs I ImI^ gMivtaf ktMdmiarti wMh a pa*, ohu*. 

f»«» ffM li fcaadad. Thwa aia ■» Im thaa Aad thai tai laah r 

lathdrday. W« bifla with Cht «arflMl. aMrii H Aad ftwa th* bn«a oImi mi a 

is add by Buns to hava bosa wrltftsa by ths | 

Bar. Mvaooca M'LsxiiAir, iiiliilUM of Oathlo. n Tho gisat OMoa*! Hew, 

Dsssido, whoia bs dM ia ITOw Tbo taas of ~ 

** Wo raa and thsy ima" Is «M bf ItaB IB ha«a 

bosa oMlsBttr eaOod "flhsU 


at tho tBkh« awaj oTa bffMo.] 

Taaaa^ sobm aqr that wo waa, 
▲ad soBw «qr thai thi7 waa. 
▲ad MB* ay that aaao waa at a*. aMMi 

▲ battis thwt wM^ that I Hw, aaw I 

▲ad wo taa. aad fhtj raai aad th^ mm, 

and wona* 
And wo laa, aad thsy waawa*, awa. 

IHMi WhlttMa^i ditBsas ma awa', naa) 


ibaoo HMTyPS) lotooh 


; ad a body «r his vasiali hi ths royal a 

~ Bagh OtoapbsB, thM Ivfl of Lsadoa. of 

Brato Afprto aad Brihaisa, W 
Not lUn Mghtsd U*oa,(l) 
WMehBothosd) aad Baddta«tBo<4) obw, taoa t 

Porthsyan,wlthW1ghtBMn,(0) V W Iho EWl of 0^, bvothw to tho Dabo of 

Advaaesd OB tho right, man, |' Afgylo. Boa 

"" ) bsfcwth»batHo,aari wm aatmaaols^ waaadsd. 

OO) Mr Mm Aaw of emoaeok, aa 

0) (D (8) (4) Lotd Bslhafoa, tho Eori of Lma. H 
and tho Boris of Bothss aad Haddtagtsa, who aoH ailJMMO,lariofPhamara. I>lsdatPMta,»B> 
bofoanaoMTOloatMnlathofayalanBy. { (U) Ths HoaoanMo Harry Maalo of KslUo, 

W MiOc* O s a s w dJooophWI^tman, whooom- I brothsr to tbo lari, whom hs lo^aptarsd a(h« 
OMtrs of tho royal army. attho oagiipmoat. 


Grave Mar8haU(l) and Lithgow,(2) ^ Pitsligo (17) and OgUvie (18) a', man, | 

And Glengary'8 (3) pith, too. 

And brothers Balfours, 

Assisted by brave Logie A'mon', (4) 

They stood the first stours; 

And Gordons tlie bright. 

Clackmannan (19) and Burleigh (20) did claw. 

Sae boldly did fight. 


The red-coats took flight and awa', man. 

But Cleppan (21) acted pretty. 

Strathmore (5) and Oanronald (6) 

And Strowan,(22) the witty. 

Cried still, "Advance, Donald !" 

A poet that pleases us a', man ; 

Till both of these heroes did fa', man; 

For mine is but rhyme. 

For there was sic hashing. 

In respect of what's fine. 

And broadswords a-clashing, 

Or what he is able to draw, man. 

Brave Forfar (7) hirasell got a claw, mnn. 

For Huntly (23) and Sinclair,(24) 

Lord Perth (8) stood the storm. 

They baith play'd the tinkler. 

Seaforth (9) but lukewarm, j 

With consciences black like a craw, man ; 

Kilsyth(lO) and Strathallan(ll) not slaw, man ; 

Some Angus and Fife men. 


They ran for their life, man. 

The men were not bred. 

And ne'er a Lot's wife there at a', man 1 

For he had no fancy to fa', man. 

Then Lawrie, the traitor. 

Brave, generous Southesk, (18) 

Who betray'd his master. 

Tullibardine (14) was brisk, 

His king, and his country, and a', man, 

Whose father, indeed, would not draw, man. 

Pretending Mar might 

Into the same yoke. 

Give order to fight 

Which served for a cloak. 

To the right of the army awa', man ; 

To keep the estate 'twixt them twa, man. 

Then Lawrie, for fear 

Lord Rollo, (15) not fear'd. 

Of what he might hear. 

Kintore (16) and his beard. 

Took Drummond's best horse, and awa', raanj 
'Stead of going to Perth, 
He crossed the Firth, 

Alongst Stirling Bridge, and awa', man. 

(1) (2) The Earls of Mai-ischal and Linlithgow. 


To London he press'd. 

(4) Thomas Drummond of Logie Almond. 

And there he address'd. 

(5) The Earl of Strathmore, kiUed in the battle 

That he behaved best o' them a', nian ; 

(6) The Chief of Clanranald, also killed. 

And there, without strife. 

(7) The Earl of Forfar— on the King's side- 

Got settled for Ufe, 

wounded in the engagement. 

An hundred a-year to his fk', man. 

(8) James, Lord Drummond, eldest son of the 

Earl of Perth, was Lieutenant-General of horse 
under the Earl of Mar, and behaved with great 


(17) Lord Pitdligo. He was again "out" hi 

(9) William Mackenzie, fifth Ejirl of Seaforth. 

the '45. V 

(10) The Viscount Kilsyth. 

(18) Lord Ogilvie, son of the Earl of Airly. 

(11) The Viscount Strathallan. 

(19) Bruce, Laird of Clackmannan. 

(12) Lieutenant-general George Hamilton, com- 

(20) A relation of Lord Burleigh. 

manding under the Earl of Mar. 

(21) Major William Clephane. 

(13) James, fifth Earl of Southesk. 

(22) Alexander Robertson of Struan, chief of the 

(14) The Marquis of TuUibardme, eldest son of 

Robertsons. He was a poet, and died in 1749. 


(23) Alexander, ]\Iarquis of Huntly, afterwards 

(15) Robert, Lord Rollo. He died in 1758. 

Duke of Gordon. 

(16) WUliam Keith, Earl of Kintore. • 

^ <24) The Master of Sinclair. He died in 1750. 



ilDd fo off the ttiCe with a p*', aum^ ) 

Bob Box (S) stood watch 

Tb* boo«gr. Itar oi«h» tlMt I anr, nasi 

Kor ho Mitf afdvMMid 

fkoB tbo ptaet ho «M ilMOii, 
Tm BD Bon to do th«» at •*, nu. 


i i Or If thm iw II l««ln — a*, —a. 

For ho took ttM goat. 

Whieh traly was wit, 

Bbri«dtii« It tlBM to withdiaw, 


Aad tho Otoh orifeoVatlh I m 


■ tobo«««B 

aoo had Mi tht Dite oTAiololianqr, aad Jolaoi 
thoBMlofMaiXbifcwthofcaMKIatoniMi^ to 
aot ao a ipgr I and «hat« brfag MBpkgrid l«r Mar to 

ho ga«« a eoBtniy ototomwit, aad, aAw aMlat 

royal mnaj^-ttttt tg M, Clawlii'i. 
(1) Tho odotaatod Bob Bof . ThIi i 

tSif aMD fepaut tbfm a'. 

[taitoHBBtohalhoMeaodooac la yolaftol 
■aliaHi m tho nl[|M» of tho bottto oT ahoriff. 

' hkwwaorthoaaihor. Woted 


Tko toawMk «^ I tow, WBK 
Wa dM Mft doaht to aHUha raai, 
▲ad «ta tho diV and a% WOUa. 

To frt M» iMTd a te*, Wmio, 
WhOo i4pm phqr tea light to Ml, 
Wf, tUkk Wh%iaim', WBIlo. 

I ^Mo pravnitod, bjr mtaod motlvii, ft«a»>alB. 

ilthor parigr: ho ooold aet flfht agataHl tha H 

I of Mar, MBrfrtaat with hlo nnMcHnw, aor H (t) As 
Id ho oppon tho Daho of Ainrlo, withoat taw H OcvdsB. 


But when our standard was set up, < 


So fierce the wind did blaw, Willie, 
The golden knop down from the top 

^attk ^f Sljerif =|mui5:. 

Unto the ground did fa', Willie. 

Then second-sighted Sandy said. 

[This originaUy appeared in a broad-sheet, with 

We'll do nae gude at a', Willie, 

the title of "A Dialogue between WUl Lickladle 

WTiile pipers play'd frae right to left, 

and Tom Cleancogue, twa shepherds wha were 

Fy, furich Whigs awa', Willie. 

feeding their flocks on the Ocliil hills on the day 

Up and waur, &c. 

the battle of Sheriff-muir was fought." It waa 
written by the Rev. John Barclay, the founder 

When brawly they attacked our left. 

of the religious sect called the Bereans, who was 

Our front, and flank, and a', Willie, 

bom in the parish of MuthUl in 1734, and died in 

Our bauld commander on the green. 

1798. The tune is called " The Camerons' March" 

Our faes their left did ca', Willie, 

or " The Cameronian Rant," and is a very quick 

And there the greatest slaughter made 

reel tune.] 

That e'er poor Tonald saw, Willie, 

While pipers play'd frae right to left. 

Pray came you here the fight to shun. 

Fy, furich Whigs awa', Willie. 

Or keep the sheep wi' me, man ? 

Up and waur, &c. 

Or was you at the Sherra-muir, 
And did the battle see, man ? 

First when they saw our Highland mob. 

Pray tell whilk o' the parties wan. 

They swore they'd slay us a', Willie; 

For weel I wat I Siiw them run 

And yet ane fyl'd his breeks for fear. 

Both south and north, when they begun 

And BO did rin awa', WUlie. 

To pell, and meU, and kiU, and fell. 

We drave them back to Bonnybrigs, 

With muskets snell and pistols kneU, 

Dragoons, and foot, and a', Willie, 

And some to heU did flee, man. 

While pipers play'd frae right to left. 

Huh ! hey dum dirrum hey dum dan. 

Fy, furich Whigs awa', WilUe. 

Huh ! hey dum dirrum dey dan. 

Up and waur, &c. 

Huh ! hey dum dirrum hey dum dandj". 
Hey dum dirrum dey dan. 

But when their general view'd our lines. 

And them in order saw, Willie, 

But, my dear WUl, I kenna stUl 

He straight did march into the town, 

WhUk 0' the twa did lose, man ; 

And back his left did draw, Willie. 

For weel I wat they had gude skUl 

Thus we taught them the better gate 

To set upo' their foes, man. 

To get a better fa', Willie, 

The redcoats they are train'd, you see. 

While pipers play'd frae right to left. 

The clans always disdain to flee ; 

Fy, furich Whigs awa', WUlie. 

Wha then should gain the victory? 

Up and waur, &e. 

But the Highland race, all in a brace. 
With a swift pace, to the Whigs' disgrace, 

And then we rallied on the hills, 

Did put to chase their foes, man. 

And bravely up did draw, Willie ; 

Huh ! hey dum dirrum, &c. 

But gin ye speer wha wan the day. 

I'll tell ye what 1 saw, WilUe : 

Now, how deU, Tarn, can this be true f 

We baith did fight, and baith were beat. 

I saw the chase gae north, man. 

And baith did rin awa', Willie. 

But weel I wat they did pursue 

Bo there's my canty Highland sang. 

Them even unto Forth, man. 

About the thing I saw, WUlie. 

Frae Dunblane they ran, i' my own sight. 

Up and waur, &c. 

And got o'er the bridge wi' a' their might. 
And those at Stirling took their flight: 
Gif only ye had been wi' me. 


You had seen them flee, of each degree. 
For fear to die wi' sloth, man. 
^ Huh ! hey dum dirnun, &c. 



FiM Furth onto DandM, mail. 
TIM Ml wliit gmml iMl BM rida» 


For tmr, bjr torn, thtA thtf ■! 
Adr eosoM o^ bnw, all oiTtef « 
T«ad« thwk fOiiW d<y* «•, ■ 
Buhl I 

I «• bat fcw llkt fmkMB 
Atamag y«a flrfslilid «vw, BMSt 

I taurmjr Lord PumwM b* afada. 
Or that h*^ tava jort aow, maa. 

For Uwach hla«aem obiy» 

His «oirrrd)7 aominaiia ran a«if , 

For ftar ttw r ' 

8m how they dala» aad « 

WofcMiha nflw 

Aad boldly flfht thi 
Oi«a thMD a tnial to 


To had a niinMMi tatm, a 

Their mottoM do oar • 

Aad pat «■ to a kM, OMB. 
Yooni hMT of oi •» botMr OM^ 
WhoB wt attaok wf BIghlaad taowa. 
To haah. aad aaaib, and dMl^ aad bralM. 
Tin tho Md, thoagh bnM. bo an o^^MVMad, 
But eoat or plaid, wV iiarpwi dMd, 

In thrtr oBold bad, that% BOM, naa. 

Twa gMilalo ftao tho flold did roa. 

I^Nda HttBtly aad Saalbrth, man ; 
They eried aad ma, grim death to ebon, 

ThoM heroM or the north, maa. 
They're flttM fcr Ibr book or pea. 
Than ander Man to lead oa men I 

Their kfa« had poM 

ThM eaeh WMg ealM wad 

f I liliiirniiwilliiiiiiinal. 

Aad rent it at the aewa, maa. 

Iluii! h«y4amdlr«« 

M'Orifan they kr off dM etaad. 

• agbtaatMile, 
Aad devt lahe iha ariM K 
That ony oAoer WH Mt *ilm 
That laa that degr, aad waa Mt ta-M 
BthM i^div to or ftMa DMbhmot 
When Whii aad Tea. te thair tey, 
Birovo fcr gleey, to oar eorrew, 

Uoh ! hv 4mm dtorvm. *ab 

»attb of ^erif .^ttir. 


aad whkh, at wOl bo eeoB, iB *a 

O, OAH* yo boN the ftcht to el 
Or herd the iteop wl' mo, I 


I saw the battle, aair and teuch, w Now wad ye sing thU double flight. 

And reekin' red ran mony a sheuch ; 

Some fell for wrang, and some for right ; 

My heart, for fear, ga'e sough for sough. 

And mony bade the world gude night; 

To hear the thuds, and see the cluds. 

Say pell and mell, wi' muskets' knell. 

0' clans frae wuds, in tartan duds. 

How Tories fell, and Whigs to heU 

Wha glaum 'd at kingdoms three, man. 

Flew afif in fritrhted bands, man. 

The red-coat lads, wi' black cockades. 

To meet them were na slaw, man; 

They rush'd, and push'd, and bluid out-gush'd. 
And mony a bouk did fa', man : 

^|e lit^gatf W>xi%. 

The great Argjie led on his files. 

[Alexander Rodger.— Air, " The Cameronian 

I wat they glanced twenty miles ; 

Rant."— The Drygate Brig is a small bridge in 

They hough 'd the clans like nine-pin kyles ; 

the north-east and most ancient district of the 

They hack'd and hash'd, while broadswords clash 'd. 

city of Glasgow, which over-arches the fiar-famed 

And through they dash'd, and hew'd and smashed. 

Molendinar burn.] 

Till fey men died awa', man. 

But had you seen the philabegs. 

And skj-rin' tartan trews, man. 
When in the teeth they daur'd our Whigs 

And covenant true -blues, man: 
In lines extended lang and large. 
When bayonets opposed the targe. 
And thousjmds hasten'd to the charge : 
Wi' Highland wrath, they frae the sheath 
Drew blades 0' death, till, out 0' breatli. 

Last Monday night, at sax o'clock. 

To Mirran Gibb's I went, man. 
To snuff, an' crack, an' toom the cap. 

It was my haJe intent, man : 
So down I sat an' pried the yill. 
Syne luggit out my sneeshin mill. 
An' took a pinch wi' right good will, 
0' beggar's brown, (the best in town,) 
Then sent it roun' about the room, 

They fled like frighted doos, man. 

To gi'e ilk ane a scent, man. 

how deil, Tam, can that be true ? 

The sneeshin' mill, the cap gaed round, 

The chase gaed frae the north, man ; 

The joke, the crack an' a', man, 

I saw mysell, they did pursue 

'Bout markets, trade and daily ncMrs, 

The horsemen back to Forth, man ; 

To wear the time awa', man ; 

And at Dunblane, in my ain sight. 

Ye never saw a blither set. 

They took the brig wi' a' their might. 

0' queer auld- fashion 'd bodies met. 

And straight to StWing wing'd their flight; 

For fient a grain 0' pride nor pet. 

fiut, cursed lot ! the gates were shut. 

Nor eating care gat footing there. 

And mony a huntit puir red-coat 

But friendship rare, aye found sincere. 

For fear amaist did swarf, man. 

An' hearts without a flaw, man. 

My sister Kate cam' up the gate. 

To cringing courtiers, kings may blaw. 

Wi' crowdie unto me, man ; 

How rich they are an' great, man. 

She swore she saw some rebels run 

But kings could match na us at a'. 

Frae Perth unto Dundee, man : 

Wi' a' their regal state, man ; 

Their left-hand general had nae skill. 

For Mirran's swats, sae brisk and fell. 

The Angus lads had nae guid-will 

An' Turner's snuff, sae sharp an' snell. 

That day their neebours' bluid to spill ; 

Made ilk ane quite forget himsel'. 

For fear, by foes, that they should lose 

Made young the auld, infl.amed the cauld. 

Their cogs 0' brose, they scared at blows. 

And hameward fast did flee, man. 

1 That daur'd the power o' fate, man. 

They've lost some gallant gentlemen 

But what axe a' sic mighty schemes, 

Amang the Highland clans, man ; 

When ance the spell is broke, man ? 

1 fear my Lord. Panmure is slain. 

1 A set o* maut-inspired whims, 

Or in his enemies' hands, man. { 

', That end in perfect smoke, man. 


WkM ttMi niglit kte, I took tiw gait. 

I dotting eom' awB\ wmn. 

The win' begui to blow, i 
Wtam I evD' to tbo Dimto Brff. 
TiM %in' blow aff My fiM taowB wit. 
That whMod Kta ««f wkk«i%, 
A* ap H flow, oat e^ ny vlow. 
White I ttood glowTfn', wadb* Uao, 

Wl' wido ojrtondcd jow, man. 

Tlinuig poatrin' wl' nj alaff, i 

▲a* AaOod oqr ploklo niia; a 
Aavhlft mj a 
Bat wlMT tt flow. 1 Dovor kMW, 
Tot Mir I no thk oiaffc ■• blai^ 


4a' 9«t, a qaomr aalla iltK 

I trow JO aofov aw, BMB. 
I*vo ttvod tUr flftriwa aa* sMrir, 

My wtff flow afl; I tint nj itafl; 
I •kaO'd mj matB, I pool*d oqr loo4; 
Aa* btak mj moot aa' a% OMa. 

Sow wad yo proflt bgr my loa? 
Thoo tak* adrleo tnm no, OMa, 

Ob ftnaoi e* bariqr bioo, naa ; 
Vor dflak eaa hoHi a BMn HM high. 
A* mak* bli kMid inalil ftoaeh tko okjr, 
Bat down ho toinhki Iqr-^ui'-fey, 
Wf tie a thad, inaag olaaoo aa' mad. 
That all itt guld. If dirt an' Maid 

Bo a' he hoo to dm, num. 

If arrraa bj Jomm Lowa, aa tf i w of ** Maty'o 


F»DaiJ«y»ii« |l ili1l l i IHr , 

Aad ftaai a ifrfBf wMMrt flMf t 
I aoaao ly C^vlMa^ bamMm ki 
Aai flfo IkM iim ■>!>■■ Ifc 


[Tn kMBlIM iaao «r«*Mi«B QmHo- hm 
kooM oftwi ortmioiia^i ■— ftai toOwiaM, a — t- 
oal uwBiinMi wha Mood la tho oaftf P«t of tho 
la««0Btai7. BatMlitoboftMndtaiapakltea. 

TaaM^-whora ttb oaDod *'TlM Boom oCOkHM.- 
ThoeldwardiaTCMppaood tokoloot. ThoM. 
lowk^Bppo ar In Boid^ O nJltol i w i. XTTI, batky 
wlH« aathor io ftol kaowa.] 

My OoHb kUi no oooaa away. 

b tho ohonao oTIooo divloy. 

T» own nqr l0«at mM UHi aif owaia. 



No longer can my heart conceal 

The painful pleasing flame I feel. 

My soul retorts the am'rous strain. 

And echoes back in love again ; 

Where lurks my songster ? fi-om what grove 

Does Colin pour his notes of love ? 

O bring me to the happy bow'r, 

"Where mutual love may bliss secure. 

Ye vocal hills that catch the song, 
Repeating, as it flies along. 
To Colin's ear my strain convey. 
And say, I haste to come away. 
Ye zephyrs soft that fen the gale. 
Waft to my love the soothing tale ; 
In whispers all my soul express. 
And tell, I haste his arms to bless. 


[Written by Richard Hewit, who, when 
very young, was engaged by the blind poet, Br. 
Blacklock, as his guide and amanuensis. Hewit 
subsequently became secretary to Lord Milton, 
and died in 1794. He was a native of Cumber- 

'TwAs 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 Nannie's charms the shepherd sung : 
The hills and dales with Nannie rung : 
While Roslin Castle heard the swain. 
And echoed back his cheerful strain. 

Awake, sweet muse ! The breathing spring 
With rapture warms : awake, and sing 
Awake and join the vocal throng. 
And liail the morning with a song : 
To Nannie raise the cheerful lay ; 
O, bid her haste and come away 
In sweetest smiles herself adorn. 
And add new graces to the mora ! 

O look, my love ! on every spray 
A feather'd warbler tunes his lay ; 
'Tis beauty fires the ravish'd throng. 
And love inspires the melting song: 
Then let the raptured notes arise : 
For beauty darts from Nannie's eyes ; 
And love my rising bosom warms. 
And fills my soul with sweet alarms. 

Oh, come, my love ! Thy Colin's lay 

With rapture calls : O, come away I 

Come, while the muse this wreath shall twine 

Around that modest brow of thine. 

O I 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 1 

®J)ie gkiDm^ miglt. 

[Written by Burns to tlie tune of " Roslin 
Castle." It was afterwards set to music by hia 
fi-iend Allan Masterton, and called " The bonnie 
banks of Ayr." " I had been for some time," 
says the poet, " skulking from covert to covert, 
under all the terrors of a jail, as some ill-advised 
people had uncoupled the merciless pack of the 
law at my heels. I had taken the last farewell of 
my few friends; my chest was on the road to 
Greenock; and I had composed the last song I 
should ever measure in Caledonia — ' The gloomy 
night is gathering fast,' — when a letter from Dr. 
Blacklock to a friend of mine overthrew all my 
schemes, by opening new prospects to my ambi- 
tion." Professor Walker completes the sketch 
from materials supplied by the Poet : " Burns had 
left Dr. Lawrie's family after a visit, which he 
expected to be the last, and on his way home had 
to cross a wide stretch of solitary moor. His mind 
was strongly affected by parting for ever with a 
scene where he had tasted so much elegant and 
social pleasure, and depressed by the contrasted 
gloom of his prospects : the aspect of nature har- 
monised with his feelings ; it was a lowering and 
heavy evening in the end of autumn. The wind 
was up and whistled through tlie rushes and long 
spear-grass which bent before it. The clouds were 
driving across the sky ; and cold pelting showers 
at intervals added discomfort of body and cheer- 
lessness of mind. Under these circumstances, and 
in this frame. Burns composed this poem."] 

The gloomy night is gath'ring fast, 
Loud roars the wild inconstant blast. 
Yon murky cloud is foul with rain, 
I see it driving o'er the plain. 
The hunter now has left the moor, 
The scatter'd coveys meet secure. 
While here I wander, prest witli core, 
; Along the lonely banks of Ayr. 


9f Mi^ WtUtKt* nVMfi tOffBJ 
ACMM h« piMM MOM Ay 

A» Mi fbs mmll^ tnipail 4r i 
f blood to bMT It mv*. 

Fkr <k«ai tiM boBBl* iMUiks oT Att. 

Tto not that iktal, dMdljr dbon: 
TiMwgfa dMtk te amy dbupa « 

a of Ayr. 

To Imiti th* boonte !■ 



Panning pMfty v^appgr lova f ' 
F Mi ipJ I , —y IH iaii , fcim il l , — y torn. 
My p«Mt wHk *M, my l0*« witli thw I 
Thtbtmngtof mylwMt fl ii hm 
rM«««D tte bouto teate «r Ayr. 

Saarff Gti* 


[ran li aObckMiy iMMatlai 

tiMlMtenftasy. Itbih— talu haw M 
Vol. L Bbhm aq« or R datt **lt li a 

TIm aoaspoav «r 

A* Jamto Gay furd Uytbi hh way. 

Aloof tho banks of TwMd t 
A bonny laK, ai aw waa, 

Oama trtpptat o'totha HMad i 
ThB baarty iwain, antaasht to Men, 

TiM bosom nymph anayM : 
And ftaD oTglM, aa lad ooald ba. 

OW MO and tela, anv platai aiii oiK 

And M llMy a«JM. flTlMa tiMf mft^ 

And now Ika MB bnd mm to noen, 

WkM to a An* tMr atopa tlMgr mm 

T» pMi tka mld-dny hoar: 
Tha bonny lad raw^ In Ub phJd, 

And ha to 0Bi« to town. 


Tham^ Hilhhn oan flmaano«r,myioelHgnia«v 
Portom I Mifa4lli«, aat thh li my Mmia. 
Baato, haata» Biy daar loahiar, to ma baak a^aln. 

Daar laaiy, ton, why 17 thinaaO 
Then haatly wand*nat ben > 

If jr awaa, aha aqr<At aia atiaylag wtda; 
Qm'it toa ma, lnddy» when ? 

Wojlii I ml 

It aakm ma to dfh, 1 from toan 
ml wU my danr Jaohqr vMmnM fc 


But hope shall sustain me, nor will I despair. ^ 

He promis'd he would in a fortnight be here ; 

On fond expectation my wishes I'll feast. 
For love, my dear Jockey, to Jenny will haste : 

^ftie %mn'^ ^uluU. 

Then, fareweU, each care, and adieu, each vain 


[Burns, while he admired the air of " Deil tak' 

Who'll then be so blest or so happy as I ; 

the wars," thought the words of Tom D'Urfey a 

I'll sing on the meadows, and alter my strain. 

poor imitation of Scottish song, as indeed they 

When Jocky returns to my arms back again. 

are, and wTote the following stanzas to the same 
tune, for Thomson's collection. The heroine was 
Miss Philadelphia Macmurdo.] 

Mnl U¥ m hm^. 

Slkep'st thou or wak'st thou, fairest creature ? 

Rosy morn now lifts his eye. 
Numbering Uka bud which Nature 

Waters wi' the tears of joy : 

[The fine old Scotch air that goes by this name 

Now through the leafy woods. 

will be found in Play ford's collection Of Scotch 

And by the reeking floods. 

tunes published in 1698. The words are supposed 

Wild Nature's tenants freely, gladly stray; 

to be by Tom D'Urfey. They appear in the first 

The lintwhite in his bower 

edition of his " Pills to Purge Melancholy".] 

Chants o'er the breathing flower; 
The laverock to the sky 

Deil tak' the wars that hurried Billy firom me. 

Ascends wi' sangs of joy. 

Who to love me just had sworn ; 

While the sun and thou arise, to bless the day. 

They made him captain sure to undo me— 

Woe's me he'll ne'er return. 

Phoebus gilding the brow o' morning. 

A thousand loons abroad will fight him. 

Banishes ilka darksome shaile. 

He from thousands ne'er will run. 

Nature gladdening and adorning; 

Day and night I did invite him. 

Such to me my lovely maid. 

To stay at home from sword and gun. 

When absent frae my fair. 

I us'd alluring graces. 

The murky shades o' care; 

With muckle kind embraces. 

With s'.arless gloom o'ercast my sullen sky ; 

Now sighing, then crying, tears dropping fall; 

But when, in beauty's light. 

And had he my soft arms 

She meets my ravished sight. 

Preferr'd to war's alarms. 

When through my very heart 

Jly love grown mad, aU for my bonnie lad. 

Her beaming glories dart ; 

1 fear in my fit I had granted all. 

'Tis then I wake to life, to light, to joy. 

I wash'd and I patch'd, to mak' me look provok- 

Snares that they told me would catch the men. 
And on my head a huge commode sat poking, 
JVTiich made me show as tall again ; 

i^m% ^m^u i^nmf. 

For a new gown too I paid muckle money. 

Which with golden flow'rs did shine ; 

[This was another song which Burns wrote to 

My love well might think me gay and bonny. 

the tune of "Deil tak' the wars," and sent to 

No Scots lass was e'er so fine. 

Thomson's collection. Jean Lorimer, the " lassie 

My petticoat I spotted. 

wi- the lint-white loclcs," was the subject of the 

Fringe too with thread I knotted. 


Lace shoes, and silk hose, garter full over knee ; 

But oh! the fatal thought. 

Mark yonder pomp of costly fashion 

To Billy these are nought; 

Round the wealthy, titled bride: 

But when compared with real passion. 

W hen he, silly loon, might have plundered me . ^ 

; Poor Is all that princely pride. 



What aw tli> »■% pli—irw ? 
Tb* gay (Midj gtu* of vanity aail art : 
Tte polUb'd invtlii Uaa* 
Magr draw tb* woodtliiff taat, 
▲ad eoofUr gnuMtoor bffgbt 

Id dmpUdty*! anajr ( 
hotttjmyooitrwwmiaptaiat a omm la, 
ShilBkliit ftm tha fiaa oTdiV? 
O thm, tha hMVt ata)Hfe« 
And aU iwiiliwi ilMiirini, 
In lov«% daUfMU kMM ihi ahalH Iht « 

Tte iratk or what to IM iM. 


Tbo woridH lmp«WI crown, 
Evan Availeo weald diay 
And ftvl Ouwtth rTry vohi Lofo% t 


of FaaayoaWty Bvt^ fer bmi^ Mly yvnoaa of 
thoBawM of TiitniiH laliiHiBl. SrJoka 
waiBMMli vmid la ■■HjrtlK Mi oifcwlM 
•wwwgMifcod B««iilalim Joha Ctok of 
Bdla. tka wrikor of Iko wiai^ •• Vanl IMhi^ 
waa hk na, and ho WBO ooMMfaaatfr fnaiiilkv 
of tholalaoeoontrfc LovdBdla. Ao aai« Inl 
•ppoand la **TIm CharaMr," Utebvck, ITU, 
VoL XL. bat wUboat tba laot vona, wUoli WM 
oftcrwardaaddod bjr tb* aatbor.] 

Mannv aMf tbo amid bo • 

Offood hHd oaboa Mt adllHr I 

Good rffno an HMoi, aqr fl 



Ho flUa borfdo a flhaa baulk 

For fgal daj aad Idr day 

Hon ay* bri^li« «m kori 
Baa ayo a ponay ki bb paao 

Aad gla riio plMMo, a good bl cbooN^ 
Aad bnapa of jaOow batt». 

Wboa Jando ftnl did woe no, 
I oplerM what wao bk calllaff I 

7alr maU, M7I ba, O eona aad Mo^ 
To>» wt k omo to a^ JwoDiag: 

Wkb aal^taawa ab bo talk bk taK 
WUob i«M kba a^v tb- aamr < 

Wkaai bo a bfcir-a poMy tkbif. 
Whoa a arfUar Bfw ae l^tf r 

(A »a*— rrofaaoMoi ^i liilaJokaeeal 
>,rwtll.l7aL TboakkoM^aad «■• 


Daoty wao tbo oeal. 

DMty waa tba kki. 
Tfeat I gat (hM tbo minor ' 

Boy, tbo dotty nOWr. 

Loooo BO oa the oalBag 




nUs the dusty peck, 
Brings the dusty oiler : 

I wad gi'e my coatie 
For the dusty miller. 

JEg ^i^lifie uuh mt. 

From "The Gaber- 

[Jamks Ballantine.- 
lunzie'3 Wallet."] 

O NATURE is bonnie and blythsome to see, 
Wi' the gowd on her brow, an' the light in her e'e ; 
An' sweet is her summer sang rollin* in glee. 
As it thrills the heart-strings o' my fiddle and me. 

When the young morning blinks through araang 

the black cluds. 
An' the southland breeze rustles out through the 
green wuds ; 
The lark in the lift, and the raerl on the tree, 
Baith strike the key-note to my fiddle an' me. 

When amang the crisp heather upon the hill-side. 
Mine e'e fu* o' rapture, my soul fu' o" pride; 
The wee heather-lintie an' wild hinny-bee 
A' join in the strain wi' my fiddle an' me. 

When daunderin'at e'en doun the dark dowie dells. 

To cheer the wee gowans, an' charm the wee bells — 

The sweet purling rill wimples doun to the sea. 

Dancing light to the notes o' my fiddle an' me. 

At kirn or at weddin', at tryst or at fair. 
There's nae saul-felt music unless we be there ; 
Wi' a spark in my heart, an' a drap in my e'e. 
The vera floor loups to my fiddle an' me. 

E'en now when the cauld drift sweeps ower the 
bleak hill. 

An' mony stout hearts sink beneath the fell chill. 
What keeps my puir callant alive on my knee. 
But twa-three blythe staves frae my fiddle and 

My fiddle's my life-spring, my fiddle's my a'. 
She clings to me close when a' else are awa' ; 

Time may force friends to part, he may wyle 
faes to gree. 

Death only can part my auld fiddle an' me. ^, 


[Written by Alex. Wilson of Paisley, the 
author of "Watty and Meg," and the great 
ornithologist of America. This was a youthful 
production of Wilson's, and seems to have been 
occasioned by certain inhospitable treatment 
which he had received at Auchtertool, a small 
village in Fifeshire, while travelling the country 
as a pedlar. His experience of the fatigues of a 
pedlar's life, and of the indignities to which it was 
occasionally exposed, was only fitting him all the 
better for his afterwards glorious career — when he 
had to travel through immeasurable tracts of the 
woods of America, in search of his favourite birds, 
and subject himself to the unsympathising rude- 
ness of the early settlers there, who could not 
comprehend the enthusiasm, or be brought to 
patronize the exertions, of the young naturalist. 
The song is marked, in the volume of his poems 
published at Paisley in 1790, to the tune of " One 
bottle more."] 

From the village of Lesly with a heart full of glee. 
And my pack on my shoulders, I rambled out free, 
Resolved that same evening, as Luna was full. 
To lodge ten miles distant, in old Auchtertool. 

Through many a lone cottage and farm-house I 

Took their money, and off with my budget I sheer'dj 
The road I explored out, without form or rule. 
Still asking the nearest to old Auchtertool. 

A clown I accosted. Inquiring the road. 

He stared like an idiot, then roar'd out, " Gude 

Gin ye're ga'n there for quarters, ye're surely a fool, 
For there's nought but starvation in auld Auch- 
tertool !" 

Unminding his nonsense, my march I pursued. 
Till I came to a hill top, where joyful I view'd. 
Surrounded with mountains, and many a white 

The small smoky village of old Auchtertool. 

At length 1 arrived at the edge of the town, 
As Phoebus behind a high mountain went down ; 
The clouds gather'd dreary, and weather blew foul , 
And I hugg'd myself safe now in old Auchtertool. 


▲n inn I biqnlnd art, a 


•* I M^v kspc rie lodcMS IB Mid AMMirtoaL- 

With Mora X toon left her to Ih* OB ter vrM*i 
Bat, MUag. WM told, thov WM neo* dH b«M^ 
Kaevpi aa old Wmnr, who aawfctptaw l i n o l , 

TehkmaailoB la 
U« op'd. bat u aooB a* I dand to taapiaia, 
U« ■hat it Uki thaadv. aad nn«^ a kawi, 
ThatnmtthwrtacfcaanwrafaM iaihlBlnni 

Piufuhad BOW to fuff tito I^iw i l B te I aanl* 
Aad oAr^ to cadid tha wntoh, ir ha dant: 
Bat tha door ha fhat bolted, the Boraaa blew cool, 
Aad Ml na aU Mendleea la old AaehtartooL 



MialWl ddlgiyh . 
b Ika a>M hamfl^ ha •Waap^ 
Wa Man aa «• aaew tad ana hhB, 
So Btab^ ta eapen aad laapa, 
ToB woald n*«r that aoBM davO «aa la hta 
Tb aaaiWi hia hadh aa aivan. 

Diprlvad oTaD riMll 
Till I earn* to a nla'd old hoaw Igr Ita read I 
Hera tta night I will ■paad,BDd,laapind fegr ttaoiri, 
ini amd up aooM pnvara fcr oM Aaahlvtool. 

9fte Group. 

[Bt Aus. WtiMi ar VhMiy. IWaa^ '*PMr 
Laaria.**— Wa !>«• thk as eoa««3iaf aa ' 
tag diatoh of Wlbaa^ 
waa tta poor waarar aai< 
of hhnarif IB tta Ian 

laBtlOM *'tta WBBt of 

Bihary, thows how BtHa ha kaaw of 1 
ta had a gnat ohfaei to toBtoad fer.] 

OoMS All ap tta bowl, nf bnna bojik! 

And roond kt M drda tta tNMBto 
Baoal mygoodfcnowa,r<>oltol 

For here la a Ibantata of pl eaa are. 
And while tta Ug bompar doth pMt. 

Old Baeebaa ihaU never eoofoond BM : 
ru drink, and, toilwwa avaiy glaan. 

Loud roar of the wlti that auroaad m% 
And bring thdreadi talent to view. 

Iraprtmli. Here dtibjBiy aide, 
A hamYooa Toong aoa of tta naaaa, 

Wta lord o'er oar paatoea can tide, 
Aad wind ttam wtanear ta etaaea. 

rhaftO«pM*MliH»gltohhB wtap^ 
Aad toata feki Mi MiMr kr aew, 
Da kari tta haaaMto aad brftaa. 

Sow a(Bhk« Ita «W to dMM aas 
Tat —wllMi ta% BiiBiBlhUi WBto, 

And hia aiiBB7 tta waat ofaBibMli 
To altaib to tta Botlaa ortek. 


But round with the liquor, my boys ! 

' A bairn in her bosom I lay a' the night. 

•Tis folly to languish repining; 

When there, neither bogles nor ghaists could me 

To swell up the tide of our joys. 


This brimmer was sent us so shining. 

When yamm'rin', she hush'd me to sleep on her 

Since blockheads and asses grow rich. 


And modesty murders the wearer. 

! whae'er can compare wi' my mammy to me ? 

If Merit must cower in the ditch. 

May she still have a bumper to cheer her. 

Fu' aft in her face I ha'e look'd up fu' fain. 

And raise her poor head to the skies. 

WhUe fondly she clasp'd me and croon'd some 
auld strain. 

And aften the saut tear wad start to my e'e : 
They were waesome, the sangs o' my mammy, to 

ril Wt tiu, ^unu. 


! yes, 1 ha'e grat for the twa bonnie weans 


[From a collection of Poems published in 1836, 

The wee robins cover'd wi' leaves wi' sic pains : 

entitled "The Sea N>-mph's Wake, and other 

And still, like a sunbeam that glints o'er the sea. 

Poems: by Robert Hamilton." Mr. Hamilton 

The auld sangs C my mammy return back to me. 

was subsequently resident in New York, and 

editor there of a popular monthly miscellany. 

When sickness o'ercam' me, she watch'd late and 

callPd "The Ladies' Companion."] 

If open'd my dull e'e, I aye saw her there ; 

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

When roses my pale cheeks o'erspread, blythe was 

In siller bells hings on the tree; 


Or while the burnie's waves o' blue 

! whae'er was sae kind as my mammy to me ? 

Rin wimplin' to the rowin* sea. 

I'll lo'e thee while the gowan mild 

Lang, lang I'll remember the days that are gane. 

Its crimson fringe spreads on the lea ; 

Since first I could lisp mam' and toddle my lane; 

"While blooms the heather in the wild— 

Though sair I be toss'd upon life's troubled sea. 

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

Yet my heart, will aye cling wi' affection to thee. 
W. G. B, 

I'll lo'e thee while the Untie sings 

His sang o' love on whinny brae ; 

I'll lo'e thee while the crystal springs 
Glint in the gowden gleams o' day; 

ms Pfggg'a §M«. 

I'll lo'e thee while there's licht aboon. 

And stars to stud the breast o' sky ; 

[Writtkn by Burns in 1787, for Johnson's 

I'll lo'e thee till life's day is done. 

Museum, but not brought out there till the last 

And bless thee wl' my latest sigh. 

volume. Mr. Grcorge Thomson inserted it in the 
3d vol. of the 1st edition of his collection, chiing- 
ing the name "Peggy" to that of "Mary," and 
directing the song to be sung to the tune of " The 

img JEammg, 

Ewie wi' the crooked horn." The heroine of the 
song was Miss Margaret Chalmers, youngest 
daughter of James Chalmers, Esq. of Fingland, 

[This song, to the tune of " Contented wl' little 

and one of the poet's most confidential female 

and cantie wl' mair," or, as it was more anciently 

correspondents. She married, in Dec. 1788, Lewis 

called, "Lumps o' puddin'," is here printed for 

Hay, Esq. Edinburgh, and afterwards long resided 

the first time.] 

in the south of France.] 

Ilk ane now-a-days brags awa' 'bout his dear. 

My Peggy's face, my Peggy's form. 

And praises her ripe lips and bright een sae clear; 

The frost of hermit age might warm; 

But neither the ripe lip nor bonnie blue e'e 

My Peggy's worth, my Peggy's mind. 

Can compare wi' the blink o' my mammy to me. { 

; Might charm the first of human kind. 


1 low flij Paarfe aafri air, 
B» ftM ■> tnOjr hwrnlr Ihlr. 
Hot attht gme* w ««M ofart. 

n* Wg^ kot, Um roM^ d|V, 
Tkt ktadli^ faHtra of an ey* i 
Wka bsl owm tibiir nagle fwi 

The gmtle look, that faft 

S&txatjbalUn'K ftsnunt. 




Hiif li to Tmom aflw tha battit ot 
«kanklaftlhar«M*aa. "Thaalr.-Hva 
"li IIM aonpoillteB flf OM ar tka ««vtMi 

ipvosta Oi JaaoMlMBt wa asiaM I 
voitfiaiidalrtoCliatMMM. lb toB Ika awti 
ar iMt. aaaapt «IM Biy paarfaM ««• kMtotf I 

by wy af afaa fa t^airflt." ) 

BawBag taiBpaM^ anv aw Hwai 
TarMd tanauta, wtetnr aarrfBag, 

Cbywal itiMnHli, jwtjy ttoajafc 

t0eloatf •* toinff flnii. 

[Warm* ty Bvmaa to ITS fer . 

Ta faOaato MgM, I rate la rigkt. 

B a w aia a'' b a —i a A— i 
!!■ toiaiV ftwa toa fti' af gtaab, 

Taar iMBrt *a am tnpaa. 

iMJImptj laaad, kar faatj oBlM. 

Toatli. g*ae», and lava, atbrntant ■«««. 
▲ad pteMaia kaia tka vaa 1 

Bolt not aajr tUttnetad Bilad. 

la tha eaoat Of rifkl aap^id. 
Wroogi IfOarioM to ladiaat. 

CftenA 09tttent. 

CTM Mhmli^ la aa awly pfodoctioa or Taoa A* 
CAarraaix, aatbor of ika ** Plaaaaiaa at Uof,- 
b«l la Mt hMtodad to a^r aallaetod adMaa ar hia 
wariatkaAwakMwat Iltoadaftof 


BbIiiI wbaal haa drHaa o-ar aa. 

Hot a hopa that daia attend, 
Tha wUa world to all batea aa- 

B«t a irarU wlihoat a IHaad i 

O Onava Ooatmt! at Cbj moai ■atWH MtHma, 
I woold an tha gay hopaa oT my baaeok lailgB/— 
f avaald part with ambltloa thy aotaiy to bt, 
Aad toMiha aot a tww bat to ftiaadahlg and tk«a> 




Uk>tkagDld« w lea r ' J otoa d a»tka<atgBaftkaaty; 
Ko laaHa that haiWi as tka graan arfltov ma 
la aa ibart M tta MDlla af tky Ikvoar to ma. 

^ 1 


In the pulse of my heart I have nourish'd a care, ^ ! gin I were where Gadle ring. 

That forbids me thy sweet inspiration to share; 

Where Gadie rins— where Gadie rins. 

The noon of my youth slow departing I see. 

! gin I were where Gadie rins, 

But its years as they pass bring no tidings of thee. 

Bv the foot 0' Bennachie! 

Cherub Content ! at thy moss-cover'd shrine. 

I would offer my vows, if Matilda were mine ; 

Could I call her my own whom enraptur'd I see, 
1 would breathe not a vow but to friendship and 

m^l^mi'ict mix dUx'^. 

[John Imlah.] 

Thou'rt sair alter'd now, May, 

WJiew Calik tiB^, 

Thou'rt sair alter'd now. 
The rose is vrither'd frae thy cheek, 
The wrinkle's on thy brow ; 

[From " Poems and Songs: by John Imlah," 

And grey hath grown the locks 0' jet. 

London, 1841, 12mo.— Gadie is a rivulet, and 

Sae shining wont to be. 

Bennachie a mountain, in Aberdeenshire.] 

Thou alter'd sair,— but. May, thou'rt yet 
The May 0' yore to me. 

! oiN I were where Gadie rins. 

Where Gadie rins— where Gadie rins. 

Thy voice is faint and low. May, 

! gin I were where Gadie rins. 

That aft in former time 

By the foot 0' Bennachie ! 

Hath woke the wild bird's envious chant. 
The echo's amorous chime ; 

I've roam'd by Tweed— I've roam'd by Tay, 

Thy e'e hath lost its early light. 

By border Nith and highland Spey, 

My star in ither years. 

But dearer far to me than they. 

That aye hath beam'd sae kindly bright. 

The braes o* Bennachie. 

To me through smiles and tears. 

When blade and blossoms sprout in spring, 

For a* the signs that show. May, 

And bid the burdies wag the wing. 

The gloamin' 0' our day. 

They blithely bob, and soar, and sing, 

I lo'ed thee young— I lo'e thee yet. 

By the foot 0' Bennachie. 

Myainauldwifie, May; 
Nae dearer hope ha'e I than this. 

When simmer deeds the varied scene. 

Beyond the day we die. 

Wi' licht o* gowd and leaves 0' green. 

Thy charms shall bloom again to blesa 

I fain wad be where aft I've been. 

At the foot C Bennachie. 

When autumn's yellow sheaf is shorn. 

And barn-yards stored wi' stooks 0' com, 
, 'Tis blythe to toom the clyack horn. 

;§M2 tfjife Um\. 

At the foot o' Bennachie ! 

[John Imlah.] 

When winter winds blaw sharp and shrill, 

O'er icy burn and sheeted hill. 

Fare thee weel, my bonnie lass, 

'Die ingle neuk is gleesome stUI, 

Fare thee weel, my ain lassie .' 

At the foot of Bennachie. 

Monie a day maun come and pass, 
Ere we shall meet again. Lassie ! 

Though few to welcome me remain. 

Monie a chance and monie a change. 

Though a' I loved be dead and gane. 

Ere that lang day we'll see, lassie! 

I'll back, though I should live alane. 

But where'er my feet may range. 

To the foot of Bennachie. : 

(^ My heart shall be with thee, lassie ! 




WImt* «« M* aft kai* OMl, kMit I 

I tor cwBMijr tofC(M( 

Jcgr iwqr coom, bat at««r mak* 
nw pmcBt Hm tte pMt, iMri* ! 

avlat BM bMk, to Sad tlMi 

^ Auld Adaa hd a ««wte Uto 
Tin K««, hi Id«i% kaMk 

SBc'bf Dtunli to tfyrm. 

▲ iMaMiitolMr-^M 
I ^ yoa jajr, wba ka% toanA 1 

I ftd tor xoo— I kn tha OM*- 

WlMB aoma toir UdaTa^ kaavti lan rw. 

iRi ftiii BBiff . 


Qua waak In hcr^ Um UmdnMmt, 
T«t ««*n tofghrlac « ' 

O ! wcaria to' tiw vamaidted, 

TlM]r>» tMa, iln* ftrat tka wartd btfaa, 
O' triiiaiaff mten— and wajwaid nlod, 

Tha blnring or Um bam o' maa { 
T«i allw a% do what wt eaa, 

Tha bonnla doan wa caaaa Mam* I 

B Saa wl* oar ban, l| 

rtah thaiaaaBa woold bMToar namti ^ 

-A to. LAisa ariNthla.l 





AM* Am* 

An* aya g«da wf m 

I «adaa gl^ aay ala « 



ftooaf wItolMau 


^ But be we clad in braiil-claith coat. 

^t* ftn^ir^to'^ Dag* 

Or hame-spun hodden grey. 
Let Scot rejoice wi' brither Scot, 
Upon St. Arfdrew'9 day! 

[John Imlah. Tune, " The Miller o' Dron."— 

Where'er we live, &c. 

"Saints," observes the author in a note to this song. 

" seem to have the fate of prophets—but Uttle or no 

Have we not cause to crack fti' crouse. 

honour in their own country. St. Andrew's Day 

When this dear day returns. 

Dear to the land of Robert Bruce, 

—and particuLorly so in London and in America. 

The land of Robert Burns ! 

The principal festival of that ancient and excel- 

Wha better raised the patriot brand. 

lent Corporation, the Scottish Hospital, in the 

And pour'd the patriot lay. 

metropolis, is held on this day, and is generally 

Than prince and peasant of the land 

well attended by Scotsmen, and the benevolent 

That loves St. Andrew's Day ! 

natives of other countries. A worthy Alderman, 

Where'er we live, &c. 

well known for his strict attention to his magiste- 

rial duties, a few years ago, when he was Lord 

" The better day the better deed," 

Mayor, presided in the absence of the late Duke of 

The saying's auld, I trow. 

Gordon, and paid a compliment to his country- 

Those of our nation here in need, 

men, whose names were in the book of subscribers 

Be they remember'd now ; 

to this charity, by terming the printed list a good 

Each mite on high Is treasure stored 

Scotch Directoiy— at least, he added, all Scotsmen 

We here to poortith pay. 

worth inquiring for were recorded in it. The last 

'Twill crown our cup— 'twill bless our board. 

verse of this song alludes to the festival of that 

Upon St. Andrew's day ! 

body, and the objects contemplated by their na- 

Where'er we live, whate'er our lot. 

tional and convivial meetings."] 

Still will I plead and pray 
That Scot rejoice wi' brither Scot, 

Hebe's health and hail to Goth and Gael, 

Upon St. Andrew's Day. 

"Wha bear the Norlan' name. 


Blythe be they a'— the far awa'. 

And happier folk at hame ! 

And spend we gowd or but a grot. 
Our drink be what it may. 

^^t mn Jiali ^Mppeli. 

Let Scot r^oice wi' brither Scot, 

Upon St. Andrew's day. 

[David Vedper. — From "The Edinburgh 

Where'er we live, whate'er our lot. 

Literary Gazette," vol. II. 1830.] 

Still will I plead and pray 

That Scot rejoice wi' brither Scot, 

The sun had slipped ayont the hill. 

Upon St. Andrew's Day. 

The darg was done in barn an' byre; 
The carle hunsel', come hame frae the mill. 

Some seek the Edens o' the east. 

Was luntin' his cutty before the fire : 

Some Carib isles explore — 

The lads and lasses had just sitten down. 

The forests of the " far-off" west. 

The hearth was sweepit fu' canty an' clean. 

And Afric's savage shore ; 

When the cadgie laird o' Windlestraetown 

Still charms of native speech and spot. 

Cam' in for till haud his Hallowe'en. 

And native springs for aye. 

Will band like brithers Scot with Scot, 

The gudewife beck'd, the carle boo'd ; 

Upon St. Andrew's day. 

In owre to the deas the laird gaed he: 

Where'er we Uve, &c. 

The swankies a', they glowr'd like wud. 
The lasses leugh i' their sleeves sae slee ; 

Some that have won an honour'd name. 

An' sweet wee Liliaa was unco fear'd. 

Some that have gather'd gear. 

Tho' she blumed like a rose in a garden green ; 

And others a' unknown to fame 

An' sair she blush'd when she saw the laird 

Or fortune may be here ; ^ 

^ Come there for till haud hia Hallowe'en ! 

Bflwrw M fMfi nqr Ilia III diM. 
8taMb««IaiBk ~ " 

TIM pAwkj sold wllb. at ths 
Took mmf »n' tifkr,m* 


H«« BMk* ym • iMly. aad tkat rffte MM, 
I draunt It tm\m owro, I'm ■»•, fHlRHa."<-> 

** A bipdn bon," <■>• W l « i n iilil^ M ■ 1^ 
** Ifo kMigr to book «• miiiai^r 

* rn ttf* by tlM alti, ftr bMftv. kr «MV^ 

wm 7* do Um Uco, 1117 boujr lUf ^ 
To «U Ate* at ny board Km lb* ikMlM* olar, 

▲a* fowd IB floirpiao |«ri ba>i kr •!• r~ 
Tbo Dili •!• oMMno hM «• tb* tafK 

Wool. «Ml tft Ihif tMtod wT MSlMO 0^ I 
And owMtOo la Mi tiMctthtrlkiy ailBlilo I 

** »o» biHHd te v* ko ihli BalloM^ r 

I ntititx gat. 

rrM« « TIM UhibMili Umffy QmM*.* «^. 
II. UMl-AIr, ** Lidrd o^ OMbyr*.'! 



Wf Um bonnj «M kMlt 
But 1 lak • kind bMit, ■ 

▲a4L«bU WM WMlk MM 

BodisHi'd wl* tflnhots sad p o artla o mm mmi 
▲ wod Modilt pofw. Bad a laag pod^iw,— 
Bttt tiMM wltboat tra* lot*, wad ao^ aolMd aia. 

Oooumnd aw to Joaalo* tharo^ giaM la Iht air. 
And parity ratcm in bar bonn Mt ftdr; 
Tbo tomo of bar Tolflo and Um bUak or bar «X 

SottaA of Swidff . 

aMaAgiif aadftvoi 

Aad la Hi plaM ho laobi M ■ 

It dMMB aqr baart at ova M a 





r^ aM •» wad iMi yaafli I halt I 
t «a fai«^ tlM bMhi «r Toy. 


Vit %B$% 0* iku. 

[Sta Ab 

" Aa. Maiy, ■ 1 iiImI Ma l i, l u aaa O l 
Uj bepM art iowa. hr a** ta wm*i 



la Wmo la Ma lafM aatHM? 
Bagag^ Iha BMra to ba bk brtia, 
Ak I ha^i ya, ba^ ya to^ tka HM ^ 

Abi bait jFa, aaia ya la-ba tka la 
WbtaabotaiftaabM.bawBiybBMlibapalir^ ll ^ 

Tbo'Idiaawl'tboloddloB.aaddrtokwI'ikabAdiy "TaaaaaavowaMfiadfawa. 
BattoBMatkarafala,aadkar8«aHl»lralMthMa,n Or b<gar wad, arl' aaa g h t atai 

•IralMtlnaa, n -. 

— -«l Mybyaaradrawa'd.aqrboaMlidawa. 

1 Ml laatokaapikaaBoatkikoMMv-- 

aCOTTISH S0KO3. jg^ 

" o:'.;;ira°;Ard'';r«,ehm. t ®»«t^ Kfe'^ gia& «om«tg. 

For Willie's sake, I Willie lo'ed ; 

Though poor, ye are my WUlie still"— 

[This popular song is said to be a translation 
from the German, by Sir Alexander Boswem., 

" Ye canna thole the wind or rain. 

liart. of Auchinleck, author of " Jenny's Baw- 

Or wander, friendless, far frae hame; 

bee," &c.] 

Cheer, cheer your heart, some other swain 

Will soon blot out lost WUUe's name"— 

Taste life's glad moments. 

Whilst the wasting taper glows; 

*• I'll tak' my bundle in my hand, 

Pluck, ere it withers, 

An' wipe tlie dew-drop frae my e'e. 

The quickly fading rose. 

I'll wander wi' ye ower the land, 

I'll venture wi' ye ower the sea'.'— 

Man blindly follows grief and care. 
He seeks for thorns, and finds his share. 

" Forgi'e me, love ; 'twas all a snare ; 

Whilst violets to the passing air 

My flocks are safe ; we needna part; 

Unheeded shed their blossoms. 

I'd forfeit them, and ten times mair. 

Taste life's, &c. 

To clasp thee, Mary, to my heart." 

When tim'rous nature veils her form. 

" How could ye wi' my feelings sport. 

And rolling thunder spreads alarm. 

Or doubt a heart sae warm and true i> 

Then, ah ! how sweet, when lull'd the storm. 

I iraist could wish ye mischief for't. 

The sun smiles forth at even. 

But canna wiah ought ill to you." 

Taste life's, &c. 
How spleen and envy anxious flies. 

And meek content, in humble guise. 
Improves the shrub, a tree shall rise. 
Which golden fruits shall yield him. 

E^^ JMHi^'0 mjemoE^traEceo 

Taste life s, &c. 
Who fosters faith in upright breast, 

[Thomas Cahphell.] 

And freely gives to the distress'd. 

There sweet contentment builds her nest. 

Ne'\kr wedding, ever wooing. 

And flutters round his bosom. 

Still a love-torn heart pursuing ; 

Taste Ufe's, &c. 

Read you not the vsrongs you're doing. 

In my cheek's pale hue ? 

And when life's path grows dark and stniit 

All my life with sorrow strewing. 

And pressing ills on ills await. 

Wed— or cease to woo. 

Then friendship, son-ow to abate. 
The helping hand will offer. 

Rivals banish'd, bosoms plighted. 

Taste life's, &c. 

Btill our days are disunited i 

Now the lamp of hope is lighted. 

She dries his tears, she strews his way. 

Now half quench'd appears. 

E'en to the grave, with flow'rets gay ; 

Damp'd, and wavering, and benighted. 

Turns night to morn, and morn to day. 

'Midst my sighs and tears. 

And pleasure still increases. 
Taste life's, &c 

Charms you call your dearest blessing. 

Lips that thrill at your caressing. 

Of life she is the fairest band, " . 

Joins brothers truly hand in hand ; 

Soon you'll make them grow 

Thus onward to a better land 

Dim, and worthless your possessing. 

Man journeys light tuid cheerly. 

Not with age but woe. ^ 

^ Tuste life's, &c 

]g3 SOORUB 80VG& 

Knt 'ji to ti)ee, mp ^otttol) U$%U. 

Um*m • to thM, f fliuillMi kilt ! hm"* • bwnr hoMk •» tk«. 

For thiiM tx* ■» brifht, thy ton » lig bt, aad tky ••■» w An aai ft«t{ 

FW an thin* artlM aNvuMK, aad an thy MtH* fTM^ 

Var tht marie or thy BlrtkAd votat. Md tiw MaiMM «r thy fhni 

For thy fttlMMi look and i^Mih riMMia. I»t awBti as VMrii caa ht^ 

H<reii a haalth, f BiinllMh hwrii! tera^ahMrtf iMaMhlalkwt 

Hcm-B to thM, ay BBotttah iMtol-ttoagh my gkw ofyoaA b a^l 
And I. •• one* I Ml and draamad. maM fcri aad drmm M man i 
Thoogh tha world, wtth an te ftmli aad atanM, haa ChilM my Mat at hM, 
And fMifaH, with tht IbodAd loola oTyoatMhl IktoBdM^ paat; 
Thoagh my path It dark and londly. bow, «fw Ihto wartdli dwi u y m^- 
B«f«^ah«lth,my8eottiahteido! hara^ahmrtyhmlthtothm! 

Bara^ t» thao. my Seetthh kato l-thoagh I know thai Bot tor ma 
la thtea tya 00 Mfht, thy tern M litht, and thy ilip w dm aad ftao : 
noi«h thoa, with aald aad oaialM loohi wOt oftm paoi ma by, 
UMNudaaa or my awrilliv hmrt, aad oTmy wMfhl igwi 

Bomn a hoalth. any SoattMi liariol haa'fe a hoaity hmUh to thaal 

Bm«MtethM.my8ea«tWilBHla! whn I matt thoo hilho throat 

Of mtfiyyoathoapdrntriltat, <it<BfMthlwiri| aloag, 
,^ - . -- . - 



Aad fer OMO, vy ■iMIlii hMria I doMi a ilddy dMoa wtth *aa. 

Whi 1 1 Htaataad fckaHHar »■! MlHtt ■» Ihttaih htaota i 
I ihaB htar thy owtH and laatMiW volt*, hi ataqr wlad * 
A> K whitit bom Urn ahaailtBtd aah. Hi Pithtmd aaf 
In Um gloiaa of tho wild Itarttt, hi tht itnaom or tha am, 
IihaUthiakfrnySeottkhlaaitol 1 iteB oHm Ihiak oa thoo. 

Boroii to thoo, aqr SeettWb hMtlt!-^ mr Md aad lontly hean, 

Tht thoofht orthM ooamo o^ ma, Iht tha bmath or dlttaat flowom;— 

Lika tht BHole tiMU onchaata mim oar. tht righto that Umb mfaM oya, 

LIka tht Todurt or tho mtadew, Bha tho aaaia or tha riiy, 

LIka tho lalnbow tn tht •foaiag, Bhatha tl mi iiiii i oa tht two. 

It tha thooght, toy Boottkh taariti k tha IMH^ thaiVht OB thta. 

Herrttethto,my8eottfah l ta ri i l t hnn^ toy — » B Wri waa bo d—h, 
(For gravtr thov^to and datko, wMh my gn«to ymiB, am eoana,) 
Thoo^ my loal matt bnmt tha boadi or OMfth, aad Itani to aoar on hifh. 
And to kwk oo thit worMi Mlhi with a oahn and tobtr tyt; 
Thoo^ tha meny wtao maat atUom flow, tho nvri etaar Itar ma*— 


Here's a health, my Scottish lassie ! here's a parting health to thee ; 

May thine be still a cloudless lot, though it be far from me ! 

May still thy laughing eye be bright, and open still thy brow. 

Thy thoughts as pure, thy speech as free, thy heart as light as now ! 

And, whatsoe'er my after fate, my dearest toast shall be, — 

Still a health, my Scottish lassie ! still a hearty health to thee ! 

^Iie mu^ m tfee hxM. 

A' THn witches langsyne were humpbackit and auld. 

Clad In thin tattered rags that scarce kept out the cauld, 

A' were blear-e'ed, an' toothless, an' wrinkled, an' din. 

Ilka ane had an ugly grey beard on her chin ; 

But fu' sweet is the smile, and like snaw the bit bosom. 

And black are the e'en, ay, black as the slae. 

An' as blooming the cheeks as the rose's sweet blossom, 

C the bonnie young witch that wins on the brae. 

They might travel at night in the shape o' a hare — 

They might elfshoot a quey — they might lame a grey mare : 

They might mak' the gudewife ca' in vain at her kirn. 

Lose the loop o' her stocking, or ravel her pirn, — 

Put the milk frae her cow, an' mae tricks as uneannie — 

As queer and as deil-like as ony o' thae. 

But o' a' the auld witches e'er kent by your grannie, 

I could wager there's nane like the witch on the brae. 

'Twere a sin to believe her coUeagued wi' the deil. 
Yet for a' that she casts her enchantments as weel: 
An' although she ne'er rode on a stick to the moon. 
She has set the auld dominie twice aff the tune. 
Ay, and even Mess John ance or twice ga'e a stammer. 
But brought himsel' right wi' a hum and a hae ! 
An' a' body says it was just wi' some glamour 
Frae the twa pawkie e'en o' the witch on the brae. 

No a lad 1' the parish e'er gets a night's sleep. 
There's no ane mak's a tryst that he ever can keep 
Ilka lass far an' near fears she'll die an auld maid. 
An' the piper and fiddler complain o' dull trade; 
For although tailor Rab night an' day has been busy. 
Yet there's nae been a waddin these sax months and mae; 
An', they say, it's a' for that trig winsome hizzie. 
The bit bonnie young witch that wins on the brae. 

She ne'er passes the mill but the dam aye rins out. 

For the miller forgets what he should be about: 

Neither mason nor sclater can ane work a turn. 

An' whene'er the smith sees her, some shoe's sure to burn. 



Haw ilBfi • qoMT ■»• Mfw, orlrils a 4M«> Morj. 

>• wad Ml* iM't* bMB dnrna^ ta» Igr fii* hidl «w Mfli« 
An' In aiyi tbuft tkt wtah di««« kte tlMM to 4iV^. 
Foribt took hk 1M» pMm to papv k« kalr. 
Lite tte VMI, I «M p«t IB • t«7 avt* •«*<»«, 
I hud BM pMM at hMM. M' MW kMi wten lo ^ • 
Bat, to wt MCh HV toar M' IMT wiMlnr- -^-^-^ 
I «0 tooa to Ikt wurioriilhat ^MM oa II 

nCM«AB>ra H AMtt-raa. aathef«« af * Tl» Ovttocm cT OlMaarato.'H 

I BA*8 n«a fiaal aav, and «i la fiaat hax 
M aiW hMdi aad iaa ladla a' aaw^ wf toawa. 
WlM* «to fnad ridaa fl^ «l»dav kai dMrfai Mf «• t 
Bat a ilikt to* drillhttiM tMw, 1 aaw iVM, 

A.ti - ■' 

My a 

My ato I f Mi, ay ato di a H i. 

ABM BMir, gad* to Haaihrt. raMd ay ato 


I MV toi^ arlMB I'M BHny, aad iUli «taa rn ad. 
Km MtohMd to dNBd. aad aaa bmUm to tar. 
Bat tiatk to driiikt BM, aad MMdAlp to ckMV I 
or a* foadt to kaffptaMi aw ««r trtod, 
Thmri aaat k^f » Buv ai aatfH ato totoMi. 



WiMB I draw to aiy itool tm mtj congr fc i ftlKan a, 
My h«K tear* M lifht I Mam toBt te Biy ato I 
Gtoa^ dowa OB tiM wtod. II li alMB aat a^ light. 
PMt tfaahiM tto^ Mm bat aa dNHM «rika Bight. 
1 hMT bat toad ««lMi» hand flMM t am, 
▲ad BMih aft aftattoa giMt fend ftaa Ilk a<a; 
VaalaatBhtagio'flattinr* mm bnaatlagi oTptM*, 

O t 


^ He did like ony mavis sing, 


And as I in his oxter sat. 

%iuhm BU^ U^ CUttjJ gWE, 

He ca'd me aye his bonnie thing. 
And mony a sappy kiss I gat. 

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

[The lively and popular tune of "A.ndro and 

I ha'e been far ayont the sun ; 

hia cutty gun," otherwise known by the name of 

But the blythest Lid that e'er I saw. 

" Blythe, blythe and merrj- was she," is old. The 

Was Andro wi' his cutty gun. 

song is given in the fourth vol. of the Tea-Table 

Miscellany, without any mark. " This blythsome 

and convivial merriment, is an intimate favourite 

at bridal trystes and house-heatings. It contains 

a spirited picture of a country ale-house, touched 
off with all the lightsome gayety so peculiar to the 

' M^tii2 torn ^Jf ♦ 

rural muse of Scotland." Elsewhere, in a letter 

to Thomson (Nov. 19, 1794) " ' Andro and his 

[Written by Bukns, in 1787, to the tune of 

cutty gun' is the work of a master." A " Hawick 

"Andro and his cutty gun," and published in the 

gill," alluded to in the chorus, was a double gill : 

second vol. of Johnson's Museum. " I composed 

a " tappit-hen" was a quart stoup with a nob on 

these verses," saj's the poet, "while I strayed at 

the top of the lid.] 

Auchtertyre with Sir WUliam Murray." The 
heroine was " Miss Euphemia Murray, commonly 
and deservedly called The Flower of Strathmore." 

Blythe, blj-the, and merry waa she. 

Miss Murray was distinguished for her affability 

Blythe was she but and ben ; 

as well as beauty, and delighted in pointing out 

And weel she loo'd a Hawick gill. 

to the poet the romantic scenery of the banks of 

And leugh to see a tappit hen. 

the Earn. She was married in 1794 to Lord Meth- 
ven, a judge in the court of session.] 

She took me in, and set me down. 

Blythe, blythe and merry was she. 

And hecht to keep me lawing-free ; 

Blythe waa she but and ben, 

But, cunning carline that she was. 

Blythe by the banks of Earn, 

She gart me birl my bawbee. 

And blythe in Glenturit glen. 

We-loo'd the liquor well enough ; 

By Ochtertyre there grows the aik. 

But waes my heart my cash was done. 

On Yarrow braes the birken shaw , 

Before that I had quench'd my drouth. 

But Phemie was a bonnier lass. 

And laith I was to pawn my shoon. 

Tlian braes o' Yarrow ever saw. 

When we had three times toom'd our stoup. 

Her looks were like a flower in May, 

And the neist chappin new begun. 

Her smile was like a simmer mom ; 

Wha started in, to heeze our hope. 

She tripped by the banks o' Earn, 

But Andro wi* his cutty gun. 

As light's a bird upon a thorn. 

The carline brought her kebbuck ben. 

Her bonnie face it was as meek. 

With girdle-cakes weel toasted brown. 

As onie lamb upon a lee; 

Weel does the canny kimmer ken 

The evening sun was ne'er sae sweet 

They gar the swats gae glibber down. 

As was the blink o' Phemie's e'e. 

We ca'd the bicker aft about ; 

The Highland hills I've wander'd wide. 

Till dawning we ne'er jee'd our bun. 

And o'er the Lawlands 1 ha'e been ; 

And aye the cleanest drinker out. 

But Phemie was the blythest la«. 

Was Andro wi' his cutty gun 

f That ever trod the dewy green. 


idlStf^e anD t^utit. 

(Wmttsv bf Jamm Boo* Io fb« tarn of 
«*Aa«iDMidkii«attygm»." Bon* eopia of tkit 
■oaf am doQbbU* ln«tk «r whM b km •!««, 
bat tkt ovt^M iwilwi ii mmdk tk* Man pn- 


Bat ^iBj^ffowB Cbt MvHt Sowv 
Tba biaM or Etiriflk ««« Hw. 

Hv •% th* Tlotet Ht «r «mi 


A TotlJ 

TM la h« boMB Hati Mi kaa^ 

Had I hm hum at mj wm b aaw. 

That ftaadi aa«Uh foo noBBtal 
To iMip OM wl* tht bar* aa* cwMb 

Aa' la Biy armo at •'•ataf Bai 
O MM blytlMi aa' O «• «hMiyi 

O MM bappy «• wad bo! 
Tho buamW to tbo •«• io doar, 

B«t P«ar* doamr fcr to HM. 

9fte ibodal Cmp 

Vaa.'^Tba AaM-KM-LaArf^ w ■Hiiiil !■ Iba 
ftmrtk mM, Is litaatod Doar AMiratkv, la rMb, 
tho nridMMo «rtho aatlvr whM tko aoag i 

oompoood.— Tbio It tbe miOmH iwina.) 

Btrma, Uytko, aad nmwj an «•. 

Bljrtho an «•, aaa aad a* I 
▲An ba^o «• flatttjr boon. 

Tho gkamtai' nw oo a' A doira. 

And lytf^tf nlrtb hat boon oar Ck' : 
Bat ea* tho ochor toaat aroan'. 

TiU nhontlfflog boglao to cnw. 

Tho aold kirk bdl hn dbapplt twal. 

Wha ouoi thoai^ ika had ckappit twa I 
Wo'n Uokt o" kMit, and otoaa pavt. 

Thoogktiaoaadtldaikoaklrinawa'. Aald Sootkiii noa riftB aft bo ftva. 

And, fif liko hor «• an ear boon, 
I diaM deobt won drink It dnr. 

■booM w pu« IVfbo AaM.Klril.UMk. 

Ornondtka i i M ilil k MliAknw^ 
AaMCtootlo II iini akirid iltkl nlA. 


Than iD no a» a Mlal «i^ 
And aonrnikid tho dappio daW« I 

Jwt rit a arUiOp tho oan nH9 nBite. 
Aad Ufht 00 a' nonoi tho k»n. 

(Watma br • Jpamnmaa oaMMMaater ta 

niii fib nfrniioi M'rniii.tolb^r 

of wnnd othv oenvlrial aad pntriolii ommp. 

a* thogHhar,- aad anothor ontltlod "TW t»»- 

onhitkoi mniiiilia JI«FlMl«aoaa 


aUMtthaiovUB. Ho «ao a natin, m « 
■land^Ptrt niiiiiia,thoagklnBtwriilwllnthr 


Wkfc «m h«» wtV ba% adnvpb- 
•ntkk'iaoaa kaM oya boon ftoo. 

r o««kt «n an «o tnat ann*. 

m nMrnlh* ionono orlliM <M dmw . 
Tot. dnMi to rin, tko oartn raon' 
Oriid, Doach aa don^ tkon a«mM 

Tba taadlord than tho nappio briap. 
And loart^ rti* happy a' najr biw 

I tiM oogao X tho ckorao rtap^ 



Then like our dads o' auld lang syne. 

Let social glee unite us a'. 
Aye biy the to meet, our mou's to weet, 

liut aye as sweirt to gang awa'. 


[Adam Knox. — Tune, "Andro and his cutty 
gtin." — Strathbungo is a small hamlet about a 
mile south of Glasgow.] 

BiiYTHE, blythe could I be wi' her, 
Happy baith at morn and e'en. 

To my breast I'd warmly press her. 
Charming maid, Strathbungo Jean. 

The Glasgow lasses dress fu' bravr. 

And country girls gang neat and clean. 

But nane o' them's a match ava 

To m.y sweet maid, Strathbungo Jean. 

Though they be dress'd in rich attire. 
In silii brocade and mos-de-laine, 

Wi' busk and pad and satin stays. 
They'll never ding Strathbungo Jean. 

Bedeck'd in striped gown and coat. 
Silk handkerchief and apron clean, 

Cheerfully tripping to her work, 
Ilk day I meet Strathbungo Jean. 

Ye gods who rule men's destinies, 
I humbly pray you'll me befrien'. 

And aid me in my dearest wish 

To gain my sweet Strathbungo Jean. 

Gi'e to the ambitious priest a kirk, 

Gi'e riches to the miser mean. 
Let the coquette new conquests make. 

But, ! gi'e me Strathbungo Jean ' 

No happiness all day have I, 
My senses are bewilder'd clean. 

In bed all night on her I crj-. 

My heav'n on earth, Strathbungo Jean. 

Should fortune kindly make her mine, 
I would not change for Britain's queen ; 

But fondly in my anfls I'd clasp 

My chiu raing maid, Strathbungo Jean. 

^cllira dcKsle. 

[This highly popular song first appeared in 
" The Harp of Renfrewshire," a collection of songs 
published at Taisley in two small volumes, about 
the year 1820. In the Index to that work, " John 
Sim" is the name given as the author of the song. 
Mr. Sim furnished a numler of original pieces for 
the Harp of Renfrewshire, and indeed had a con- 
siderable hand in getting up the work, but before 
its completion, he left I'aisley for the West Indies, 
where he died soon after his arrival. Meanwhile, 
the song rose into repute, when Mr. Thomas 
Lyi.e, surgeon, Glasgow, stepped forward and 
declared himself to be the author. In support of 
his claim, he stated, that he was in the habit of 
corresponding with Mr. Sim during the publica- 
tion of the Harp of Renfrewshire — that he sent 
him the song of Kelvin Grove, with another song, 
to be published anonymously in that work— that 
Mr. Sim having transcribed them both, they were 
found among his papers after his departure, and 
naturally enough supposed to be his own. So 
satisfactorily did Mr. Lyle establish his claim, that 
Mr. Purdie, music-seller, Edinburgh, was induced 
to become the purchsiser of the copyright from 
him, although he had previously bargained for 
the copyright with Mr. Sim's executors for a few 
pounds. — Kelvin Grove, a picturesque and richly 
wooded dell through which the river Kelvin flows, 
lies at a very short distance to the north-west of 
Glasgow, and will in all probability soon be com- 
prehended within the wide-spreading boundaries 
of the city itself. At one part of it (North Wood- 
side) is an old well, called the Pear-Tree-Well, 
from a pear-tree which formerly grew over ^t 
This used to be, and still is to some extent, a 
favourite place of resort for young parties from 
the city on summer afternoons. The tune of 
Kelvin Grove, or " Bonnie lassie, O," was origi- 
nally arranged with an accompaniment for thp 
piano-forte by R. A. Smith, and subsequently by 
Mr. Braham. We give here the author's own 
version of the song, from a small collection of 
Ballads and Sdngs, original and selected, published 
by himself in ISiJ. It differs somewhat from tlie 
copy in " The Harp of Renfrewshire," which has 
only six stanzas.] 

Let us haste to Kelvin grove, bonnie lassie, O, 
Through its mazes let us rove, bonnie lassie, O, 

Where the rose in all her pride. 

Paints the hollow dingle side, 
, Where the midnight fairies glide, bonnie lassie, O 


M«miidvbytiMmm.baul*lMii*.0, # Tk* ImMtet vM vfl mm pvtaM 

lh«eo«* bald* Ikt Tin. boDBtolMrie.O. Tht air. «kn ftialM^ ly Aprfhuyn, 

or tlM iQwtaff imMnr Ml. 


• WlMB in nnHBOT «• af« tlMN, taMit iMrii. O, 
TiMra, th* JUypter* «HMaa piMM, 
Throw* a nA, tat ■««« paiHM, 


Thoi^ 1 4m ao» aJI Hi !■■> >■■■!■ iM^r. O. 

A« tiM mil* or totVM^ HiM. kMHii ImK O, 
T«t wltll krtuM •• Mf iMib 
I cpuld Majr tlv IttlMn fiMi^ 

Aad wta tbM te mr M4«, tanl* iMlib O. 

UDUylowr — ttriifcof,liaBli 


Wl—jili II iWiiwittlwwaa, 

ftan Mik Im4 I BMt A*^. kM^* li^». O. V uuwwii. 

Th— luwwB f K«M« gww. I mih tM^« o, I (Tm«m LviJb— D«mm to 

Aad adkn loaU I !•«•. tonli iHili. O. 
To Ite rl*«r wtodliV aliw, 

K«w 10 tiMo oraO Mil *M, taMte iMii. U. 

Whoa «PM a »HgB *M«, WMte IM^ ti. 

i I Ml ahM hattf*^ f«w. hwalo ki^ O, 

l^Mawwyohoi a tm^, fciiaah' ImIo, U. 

jitewv «rate. lito ho fh««l la fM 

SKekmnf ^mmtx. 

CTmomao LTLs^Alr. ** HlshlaaA Hany iMk 

•sain." rim puUtabod In "Tho PwtMlo «t 

Im Plora'o tnla tho gnwoa wait. 


lac-phMoaa «ho ahom oT tho Ifik of O|fio, i 

■If^^ i iili H r w^m a 

iiHiilhH Thotaaalt%lH«w|lMiih*aMlo. 

hat aot naVy oo.) kr tho paiy ooi of 



•0 ttai«r*i 1 

I. bat ««y «[V*i9««lei 
b, T«* ar «MM of li 

■Ight. 1lM* wo aUr-tM ipoilM «r Ihli iaowt 
MBtlMi ••« ih* ftar fHMM «r tho gloho. of 
«HM tvo «alr ■>• ikaai !■ •■» ••• ooaatty. 
vte. tho Olew-wotai aad tho flir^.-] 

Ha tho hMdhyihwa t iwlag fcB. 
•Twist Ho«y-Loah. aaa daih I 

rroai tho imr iftti, ■nimlaai Iwwr, 

anti mjr wMoiHlBt tMrtipo tfMo, 



When the distant beacon's revolving light ^ No ! Fare thee weU, Phebe ; I'm owre vfae to weep. 

Bids my lone steps seek the shore. 

Or to think o' the broom growing bonnie an' fair ; 

There the rush of the flow-tide's rippling wave 

Siiice thy heart is anither's, in death I maun sleep, 

Meets tlie dash of the fisher's oar^ 

'Neath the broom on the lea, an' the bawm 

And the dim-seen steam-boat's hollow soiind. 

sunny air. 

As she sea-ward, tracks her way ; 

All else are asleep in the still calm night. 

And robed in the misty grey. 

When the glow-worm lits her elfin lamp. 
And the night breeze sweeps the hill; 

#E tje DcatJ) csf Wnm^. 

It's sweet, on thy rock-bound shores, Dunoon, 

To wander at fancy's will. 

[Richard Gall.— Tune, "0, wat ye wha's in 

Eliza ! with thee, in this solitude. 

yon toun."] 

Life's cares would pass away. 

Like the fleecy clouds over grey Kilmun, 

Thkrb'b waefti' news in yon town. 

At the wake of early day. 

As e'er tlie warld heard ava ; 
There's dolefu' news in yon town. 
For Robbie's gane an' left them a'. 

I SttCe fej^SlDi COntJTEt. 

How blythe it was to see his face 

Come keeking by the hallan wa' ! 
He ne'er was sweir to say the grace. 

[Thomas Lti-k.] 

But BOW he's gane an' left them a*. 

I ANCK knew content, but its smiles are awa'. 

He was the lad wha made them glad. 

The broom blooms bonnie, an' grows sae fair^ 

Whanever he the reed did blaw : 

Each tried frienil, forsakes me, sweet Phebe an' a'. 

The lasses there may drap a tear. 

So I ne'er vriO. gae down to the broom ony mair. 

Their funny friend is now awa'. 

How light was my step, and my heart, how gay ! 

Nae daffin now in yon town ; 

The broom blooms bonnie, the broom blooms fkir; 

The browster-wife gets leave to draw 

Till Phebe was crown'J our queen of the May, 

An' drink hersel', in yon town. 

When the bloom 0' the broom strew'd its sweets 

Sin' Robbie gaed an' left them a*. 

on the air. 

The lawin's canny counted now. 

She was mine when the snaw-draps hung white 

The bell that tinkled ne'er will draw. 

on the lea, 

The king will never get his due. 

Ere the broom bloom 'd bonnie, an' grew sae fair ; 

Sin' Robbie gaed and left them a'. 

TiU May-day, anither wysed Phebe fi-ae me. 

So I ne'er will gae down to the broom ony mair. 

The squads 0' chiels that lo'ed a splore 
On winter e'enings, never ca; 

Their blythesome moments a' are o'er. 

When broom waves lonely, an' bleak blaws the 

Sin' Robbie's gane an' left them a'. 

For Phelie to me now is naething ava, [air ; 

If my heart could say, " Gang to the broom nae 

Frae a' the een in yon town 


I see the tears 0' sorrow fa' , 
An' weel they may, in yon town. 

"Durst I trow that thy dreams in the night hover 

Nae canty sang they hear ava. 

Where broom blooms bonnie, and grows sae fair : 1 

Their e'ening sky begins to lour. 

The swain (who, while waking, thou thinks of no 1 

The murky clouds thegither draw ; 

more,) [ony mair ?" 

'Twas but a blink afore a shower, 

Whisp'riug, " Love, will ye gang to the broom ^ 

; Ere Robbie gaed and left them a' 



• lMd«HtUi^«lM»«Mk: 4 o 

Tiff M» h» rfttlaff niM A Cfmw 
Auu« tiM rwk. who* nttoM MtoMik^ 

B« tewtit iMd li BOW »•»'. 

Batandd I kj 1117 hand apoa 



Then wad I Hp« nj ptmdk, am* daw. 
An' tCMp it whI aoMMC Ifca immI^ 

A* hkot* I'd tip w rt ly m: 

Var warUl |car I dteaa <M«, 

Com*. MMid. will fim tkt tatflfy>bfw 
T» hli knU taM Iten amr »«•*. 

A «M kit iMila «Ml aqr «!>«• 


Tka lltlla sattltM dem ma «haHk, 




OaumftA a dart o* lovt to ma. 
O fjmk aa b> year ooaftjy qnmnt, Aa. 

TIM iBMS fiUr la SeotlaM Uc. 

Thalr baaatk* a* what tonc«M eaa taO? 
Boto^ tiM IkbcRto' than a 

Uy w«k Mt lamit baan tht balL 

V«r M8B IIM twteUa «f IMT t^t 
It migbt aa hMi ay !•« tka dqr, 
A waate* ladt af wa ta dMtb 
O iV«k aa af yav aaartly «BM 

I toiftaa gang iacli. 


I wtmiAvmfflaaktaaMymaHMaya^lB, 
l*fa ImM Igr tar apan UMai aagM yaaii as* m, 

Ifa Md Iv hw apiM, *ak 

Taa^ lot—li w'daw f Mm 
Wf piaUto «w hawy*. as* tMM 

Aa* yM^« haaaa hb watda wf a SMMli iT Bay vMa^ 
WMat Mlaa MibMaB,lMrt4MMH«daa*iyB. 
Aa'iUMaal, **0 ^flteali, nayahayamritef- 
WMi t Mi aa hb hama^ *8. 

■ «■ Irfk la te tail «r fhrir •>•, 


• I«aa«,*a. 

ViDr maay 1ai« ywr Ma* 1 plart «a Om ha. 
My maanay WM Uad M a mMhir caaM ha I 
faaMdhyharaiaaalhaaiaafilyfaffaaad b^ 
BatWawartaaf bMfctaayai—iiaiala 
l*«a halt hy kv afaaa, iNb 

IBaaaABB «AU.] 

BAtao, hako, nqr waa wia ttdag, 
O mfUy Horn thy hBakhi' t^t 



Thy dnddie now is far awa', 

A sailor laddie o'er the sea ; - 
But Hope aye hechts his safe return 
To you, my bonitie lamb, an' me. 

Baloo, baloo, my wee wee thing, 

O saftly close thy blinkin' e'e ' 
Baloo, baloo, my wee wee thing, 

For thou art doubly dear to me. 
Thy face is simple, sweet, an' mild. 

Like ony simmer e'ening fa' ; 
Thy sparkling e'e is bonnie black ; 

Thy neck is like the mountain snaw. 

Baloo, baloo, my wee wee thing, 

O saftly close thy blinkin' e'e ! 
Baloo, baloo, my wee wee thing. 

For thou art doubly dear to me. 
O but thy daddie's absence lang. 

Might break my dowie heart in twa, 
Wert thou na left a dawtit pledge. 

To steal the eerie hours awa'. 

^i$ ^diilmmh OTUcI). 

[Richard Gall.] 

For mony lang year I ha'e heard frae my grannie. 

Of brownies an' bogles by yon castle wa'. 
Of auld wither'd hags, that were never thought 
An' fairies that danced till they heard the cock 
I leugh at her tales ; an' last owk, i' the gloamin', 
I dander'd, alane, down the Hazlewood green : 
Alas ! I was reckless, an' rue sair my roaming. 
For I met a young witch wi' twa bonme black 

I thought o' the stams in a frorty night glancing. 
Whan a' the lift round them is cloudless and 

I look'd again, an' my heart fell a dancing ; 
Whan 1 wad ha'e spoken, she glamour'd my 

wae to her cantraips ! for dumpish'd I wander j 
At kirk or at market there's nought to be seen; 

For she dances afore me wherever I dander. 
The Hazlewood Witch wi' the bonnie black een. 

[This is given in the last volume of Johnson "t 
Museum, adapted to an air by Allan Masterton, 
as a production of Eobert Bums. It was, how- 
ever, in reality written by Richard Gall, and 
the following particulars regarding it are given 
by Mr. Starke, the intimate friend of Gall, in his 
sketch of the life of that young song-writer, 
printed in the Biographica Scotica, at Edinburgh, 
In 1805. — "One of Mr. Gall's songs, in particular, 
the original manusci ipt of which I have by me, 
has acquired a high degree of praise, fVom its 
having been printed among the works of Burns, 
and generally thought the protluction of that poet. 
The reverse, indeed, was only known to a few of 
Mr. Gall's friends, to whom he communicated 
the verses before they were published. The fame 
of Bums stands in no need of the aid of others to 
support it ; and to render back the song in ques- 
tion to its true author, is but an act of distriba 
tive justice due alike to both these departed poets, 
whose ears are now equally insensible to the in- 
cense of flattery or the slanders of malevolence. 
At the time when the Scots Musical Museum 
was published at Edinburgh by Mr. Johnson^ 
several of Burns's songs made their appearance ir 
that publication. Mr. Gall wrote the following 
song, entitled, 'A Farewell to Ayrshire,' prefixed 
Burns's name to it, and sent it anonymously to 
the publisher of that work. From thence it has 
been copied into the later editions of the works of 
Burns. In publishing the song in this manner, 
Mr. Gall probably thought that it might, under 
the sanction of a name known to the world, ac- 
quire some notice; whUe, in other circumstances, 
its fate might have been * to waste its sweetness in 
the desert air.' "] 

Scenes of woe and scenes of pleasure. 

Scenes that former thoughts renew. 
Scenes of woe and scenes of pleasure. 

Now a sad and last adieu ! 
Bonnie Boon, sae sweet at gloamin', 

Fai-e thee weel before I gang ! 
Bonnie Boon, whare, early' roaming. 

First I weaved the rustic sang ! 

Bowers, adieu ! whare love decoying. 
First enthrall'd this hejirt o' mine ; 
There the saftest sweets eiyoying, 
; Sweets that memory ne'er shall tine. 



Bat, •!■•! ^riMB feread to hvot. 

nmi^ tk 4«ibl]r d«r to OM . 
:— M I tfctok I did rtmm it. 

Haw toMh tepflOT «mM I b»l 
IMM* of WM sad «n« of plMMto, 

inbe 9til»t o' tit eUn. 

[WmrrrawbyjAjMiMninyinf ■ liito— ito 
byJ. nster.] 

O Bomiiat tiM IBy that MooiM Is *• «yiV, 

And lUr it tb« dMny tkM gmm «■ Ik* tn*i 
Tte piteNM flDitai wmmtk m i» «#■■■« lh» 

▲■d ■ I l u l l tfw HM I—— ^ III I liait#»i 
Hair dwr to av kMvt b tkM to«nw <«^r 4li«l* 

4l'«« Ht fai a ftodM arid «Hik^ I 

A* IMidllj •hmda* Ikik k«Mi 

And toMtkliw in ««■ Ik* ak^ I 

Uk* M^ili ariMT Milk* piya 



• Mm 

That M*an>d fef Ik* bdrMk, Ik* fdd* vr tk* 


Tk* M a | > U » * Ma*dw—kkiik*a>to>»>**, 
Tk* wwry k«ftlaB«ifcr tk* iiii>alat nn^aaada*. 
MiMMalk*^ MPMt Matll*, 

b Ik* d^r Ikaft 1« «a* Ik* yaa^ iMri* toy aia, 

lM«k a' **aU fenak* M. «!• k« in k* kappf 

j OBtlMbaaka*'tk»Sadikk,lk*pttd*«'tk*glMk 

Wbar iato i* Ik* glniif% tf |k* Im^-Utt 
I— wftkafckifW t» II* ditto k^B^r* I 



Aad a warfd cr kalli« i* Ik* toto ar kar •%. 
Tk* frtM* BMr k* pioad a^ kli wato kaardad to»> 

Tk* kilr ^ kk gnad*ar aa* 
Thiyt»aaalk*k*|if4a— dwalttoayk 
WkM akHM wT Ik* ai«*l «r laf* aad cr I*. 

1 •«• Mia tk* day dawa, to a dw«*todM9fte' f*i 

rk* otood* Alato* kvkkt to a d**p aaakto BiM, 
Aad tk* «aitk Muhto* kaik to Ik* ftod m «a 

I*«« dnau'd e' a palae* wi' i*iii ^naikt kaX 
Aad proad waM a' fUttoria* to itak Hiaiiiil 

• iklato* AOr tbro* tb* niM-ttotod air, 
aai a^ iBi* paail* aad raiili* al»«ca : 

[Waap* Vf DAjita^ Wasa, OwiA 
If W. B. MaoM.] 

Cka yoa irfl BM, to! aM «rtqr ' 
Ak ! tril aM, wiv tra* kff* **ald k* 

AAaM to Mto Ik* ktodir tofrite 

or kka dto totoiW kaai Mha vaaM IM. 

T*l Iktok* ■»*• Uto aBlk* «kli» ' 

Oka yoa toO Bi^ to! a* wky 


Okajtoi to! to*b ton iM wkr ^ 

raif, li^lfclitodwaO 

I<sv* li toald, L*«« i* Iky ^ 

Lav* I* tttoM, Lev* k diy, 
CkM faa ton BM, 1*0 aw wlif 

Wm poar kar kMft wkaa an i* laaai 

i«r BBlH to aay kat to aaa. 

Cka )«B toU ■*, ton BM wkgr 



[The author of this song was James Brown, 
long known in the west of Scotland in his profes- 
sional capacities of musician and dancing-master. 
In his latter days he was afflicted with blindness, 
and kept a small public house, in Jamaica Street, 
Glasgow, where ht died in 1836. He left a great 
number of songs in manuscript.] 

Since uncle's death I've lads anew. 
That never came before to woo ; 
But to the laddie I'll be true. 
That lo'ed me first of onie, O ; 
I've lads anew since I gat gear, 
Before my price they'd hardly speer ; 
But nane to me is half so dear. 
As my true lover Johnnie, O. 

Weel do 1 mind o' auld langsyne. 
How they would laugh at me and mine ; 
Now I'll pay them back in their ain coui. 
And show them I lo'e Johnnie, O. 
Weel mind I, in my youthfu' days, 
How happy I've been gath'rin' slaes. 
And rowin' on yon breckan braes, 
Wi' the flower of Caledonia. 

The Laird comes o'er and tells my dad. 
That surely I am turning mad. 
And tells my mam I lo'e a lad 
That's neither rich nor bonnie, O. 
The Laird is but a silly gowk. 
For tho' my Johnnie has ntve stock. 
Yet he's the flow'r o" a' the flock, 
And the pride of Caledonia. 

When to the Laird I wrought for fee, 
He wadna look nor speak to me. 
But now at breakfast, dine, and tea. 
He'd fain mak' me his cronie, O ; 
But sure as gowd cures the heart-ach. 
It's only for my siller's sake ; 
The mair o' me that they a' make. 
The mak I lo'e my Johnnie, 0. 

But now my wedding day is set. 

When I'll be married to my pet. 

With pleasure I will pay the debt, 

I've awn sac lang to Johnnie, O. 

Come, fiddler, now cast aff your coat, 

We's dance a reel upon the spot, 

Play " Jockie's made a wedding o't," 

Or " Snod your cockernonie," O. ^ 

Now laddies keep your lasses till't. 
And lasses a' your coaties kilt. 
And let us ha'e a cantie lilt. 
Since I ha'e got my Johnnie, O ; 
I've got my heart's desire at last. 
Though many frowns between us past, 
And since we're tied baith hard and fast. 
May peace crown Caledonia ! 


Cou'd I be glad or happy yestreen. 

When somebody wasna there. 
Cou'd I look blythe or cheery yestreen, 

Alas ! when my heart was sair. 

What need I think or care about ane, 
Wha maybe cares little for me ;— 

Ay: somebody's gotten my heart unsought, 
An' what mair has a lassie to gi'e ? 

Somebody's words are wonderfu' words, 
They're wonderfu' words to hear ; 

Somebody's words can lighten the heart, 
Or fill the e'e wi* a tear. 

They may say's they like, they maydo's they like. 

An' somebody I may tine ; 
But I'll live's I am, an' I'll dee's I am. 

If somebody mayna be mine. 

[Tune " Humours of Glen." " Charming 
Nancy," says the Rev. Mr. Skinner, in a letter 
to Burns, " is the real production of genius in ;. 
ploughman of twenty years of age at the time of 
its appearing, with no more education than what 
he picked up at an eld farmer grandfather's fire- 
side, though now by the strength of natural parts, 
he is clerk to a thriving bleachfield in the neigh- 

Some sing of sweet MaJly, some sing of fair Nelly, 
And some call sweet Susie the cause of their pain. 

Some love to be jolly, some love melancholy. 
And some luve to sing of the Humouca of Gleu 


Oat ay only tkatf h ngr prHtjr Naaey, 
IB v«ttli« my pMriM ini ittlfv to to pWa; 

ni Mk BO BMra tnamiv, 1 H ( 
BbI ihM, aar Amt Xmmj, gla tiMB vwt BV at^ 


Uct plMMwttaluivVmr b ttm from bB sIbIb. 
Tb«n*M«, my flwwt JcwBl, O do BOC pro«« OTkl I 

OoBMBt, mj dMT Maacar. aad chbo, to any bIb. 
B«r «a*itefi b eooMly, tor kafB)^ ii k«MHr. 

H«rdrHi iaqolto dMMlwtoe •B^M IB Ito BMtoi 

- T IB 

My etomlac iwMi Vaacy, Win tfMB to Bqr alB> 
Tto wiMto or tor tet K «l«k mMmI^ fmas 

■iPMft ItBBqr. O ««ft ttoB aqrBto I 



To ttollw HV i««ii *«■ toM. too*. •»< "^ 
Wttk BMiti to ny JBMli, in toi^ tor^paknty, 

MyiiiBtnilH«"wH*Mwy.l»«»M ■■If^bi. 
in «atk Bt toy toOhw to AnMhlky 4«iai^b 

Witk tny thli« BtoJM Iky Mb I* Hiliitel 
TtooatoliBMiltilivKkatlgrB ' 


in Btote lra» BAatkMi ito oHMtoBt 4k 
OrtoflBff ny Vaacy. wkOi 1Mb 4aU * 


If y duomlBCtoPtot Maaay , giB UWB ««t aqralB* 
Bat what Iftoy KBBfly dWBkl Bltor tor iMQ, 

To tivoar BBOltor to ferward aad ttlB, 
1 wm BOieanpri tor. b«t pkdaly 111 toO tor. 

BviOM thoB klw Kaacy, tkMto B«>w to toy alk. 

^e 9iu\h <Sriiliniuii. 

Ilx hai* ny eeat C ivda nraff'>brewB, 

MypoBttor^wif tooo^aqramm h Ifar qio b tk» «yo o^ Iki 

l11dMkBM,]l«caBdbBbknMaBa. Bar llpa art tka ript bitob 

fngaaatotoBTtatodiMMfaMn. A Uar toaotoH Ito pake* 

YoBr*«(itB MBBr.yai 

Tto jBd^ f«a o«r^ Cto toB> B Bdb, 
Tto todars itoBB. bbM PWMk b bBw. 
•Utod. kdPi. |i^ toltor Udi to hitoa. 

TOBTiBW^ A* tkrivta* to BBd OBI.' 

I'M wm to «a yM iianlin dab.— 
WiM toto W» Ikb MBW <|b«bM a iMi 

Ay, ay, yoto driirk BO n to «■, 
To tOB «Bd to* ■», Mat, yoBftoTi 

m MMtrt tto iMt. aad litt^ tor b 

tTaa aaltor «r iMi iM tokt b •MHfBQy aaM 
to to ■oa—t Bwtoa^JaWBk, aMaMtoBortto 
r«.wkofcr toBBy yaktobbM a la nnmi l' »wt 

- " ■ ■ Wa 



Or Ito tear dwafflag, i 

r^toaaatid gumin. 

O, tkas |a to> aaaa aqr dMT baito, 

Bat tv ftw tfM kasw ar aay bflla, 

fto to««y a lBi« oidb B«PB'. 

Bar kab b «to «f1a« ar «to btockMtd, 
* >do*o, 


Though green be thy hanks, sweet Clutba. ^ The tear trickles doun JVae my e'e. 

Thy beauties ne'er charm me ava ; 

An' my heart's like to break e'en in twa. 

Forgive me, ye maids o' sweet Clutha, 

When I think on my auld wife an' bairns. 

My heart is wi' her that's awa*. 

That now are sae far far awa*. 

O love, thou'rt a dear fleeting pleasure ! 

Come in thou puir lyart auld carle. 

The sweetest we mortals here know ; 

And here nae mair ill shalt thou dree; 

But soon is thy heav'n, bright beaming. 

As lang as I'm laird o* this manor, 

O'ercast with the darkness of woe. 

There's nane shall gae helpless frae me. 

As the moon, on the oft -changing ocean. 

Delights the lone mariner's eye. 

And ye shall get a wee cot-house. 

Till red rush the storms of the desert. 

An' ye shall get baith milk an' meal; 

And dark billows tumble on high. 

For he that has sent it to me. 
Has sent it to use it weeL 

m^ %vM W^%W^* Ww^^ 

[Jamks Hooo.] 

rSAin also to be a production of Robhkt Bitrns, 

JuNioK, eldest son of the poet. It is given in the 

There's nae laddie coming for thee, my dear Jean, 

"Spirit of British Song" (Glasgow, 1825.) where 

There's nae laddie coming for thee, my dear Jean ; 

it is stated that it was communicated by the 

I ha'e watch'd thee at mid-day, at morn, an' 

Huthor, before he went to London, to a near rela- 

tion residing at Mauchline, from whose recitation 

An' there's nae laddie coming for thee, my dear " 

it was taken down for that work.] 

But be nae down hearted though lovers gang by. 

Oh ! pity an auld Highlan* piper. 

Thou'rt my only sister, thy brother am I ; 

An' dinna for want let him dee ; 

An' aye in my wee house thou welcome shalt be. 

Oh ! look at my faithfu' wee doggie. 

An' while I ha'e saxpence, I'll share it wi' thee. 

The icicle hangs frae his c'e. 

Jeanie, dear Jeanie, when we twa were young. 

I ance had a weel theekit cot-house 

I sat on your knee, to your bosom 1 clung ; 

On Morvala's sea-beaten shore ; 

You kiss'd me, an' clasp'd me, an' croon'd your 

But our laird turn d me out frae my cot-house , 

bit sang. 

Alas : 1 was feckless an' puir. 

An' bore me about when you hardly doughtgaug. 
An' when I fell sick, wi' a red watery e'e 

My twa sons were baith press'd for sailors. 

You watch'd your wee brother, an' fear'd he wad 

An' brave for their kintra did fh'; 


My auld wife she died soon o' sorrow. 

1 felt tho cool hand, and the kindly embrace. 

An' left me bereft o' them a'. 

An' the warm trickling tears drappin' aft on my 

I downa do ony sair wark, 

For maist bauld is my lyart auld pow. 

Sae wae was my kind heart to see my Jean weep. 

So 1 beg wi' my pipes, an' my doggie. 

I closed my sick e'e, though I wasna asleep; 

An' mony a place we've been through. 

An' I'll never forget till the day that I dee. 
The gratitude due, my dear Jeanie, to thee! 

I set mysel' down 1' the gloamin'. 

Then be nae down-hearted, for nae lad can feel 

An' tak' my wee dog on my knee. 

Sic true love as I do, or ken ye sae weel ; 

All" 1 play on my pipes wi' sad sorrow, 

My heart it yearns o'er thee, and grieved wad I be 

An' the tear trickles doun frae my e'e. ^ 

^ If aught were to part my dear Jejvnie an' me. 


^^SS8 ^^liKTtr. 

(Tun tnljr gmphle. and traly fleettUi |w « <w. tt on Cnt ■ >> ■ > ■< te **TW O l iipir #e«nMl af 
d«atndLllmtai«.-(I>M.l9Ui.iaB.)ftp«le4lMl«aDdM«idlvllr.B.B. Baitfy. Utearik«tk^ 
fbrtuiM* or poor Many MaelaM.wba»ft«a«rlriir«afkw>«3r» <iw mat aad nfi oflkt wkolo 
•OMitiy-oldo, ■ttok dow to>o» tiiiHiil —d pomtyotftetM oli makL Valktag omU «mm« Uo 
triamphsoriUtS7<terii«kvb«Mi«liii. awHowof > m ii nly l l ii M , — OwaO q— f tw^lwlwd 
»wwiidhT,ba>MaiBr,fcoaHhtfHHyoriMrifcili i i,<HwnH»pl— ■■iitiB W li , iailwr w i h tr, 
•*Ut>eoathi»ocohWMow Mnih i ii >,"a w i H i<fo— of thttn^ootid hi i w • pawte i nw ■ ■# Um 
lortaMmotUttjtMtmntA. Tbo JHHiliM of M—gm wootw, m< of tfw iiiwi j ■■ il »p IwM la 
horhoMo, loof tho Hehoot — d I w oi m i 1w o l|ili — , wfcfl<tho I n ii i ii of | mi I i imH mI b o— f ia pal—, 
tat tko aAwdonlatfoB of Mj^nr* •bodo— 

•* in a|o Um dt7 floor, Mor»-4lM day 0^ «• dveoktef 
or tho oovtlMa of bar ganMT— 

— " Um want '• whM tko woo MMMt laote airt «r a «Mrl» iMr. 
rVao tko aiaal iiin of Mant ^mtmnt,' 
afooBlaoitijrotvikiac. ladood, tho wlwlopoaw wo m ai HW eWof im»H w i JI wi M. Ml l toOa 
toTon of lOBatea 8eo«Wi Mlooi M awM profo a smo^ aa «a mm of tkoM II wlB to •■ o»%taof . 

mil TTinalliin iif Mimj rTnrm ' IUTaa,>rwaay faoaaMtfl J o M la i p rta f la 

OlaifOw.ofwklalioi^towMaMlloa. Ha dlod la «to laiaad af Trialdad la Ifltt. wUttor to had 
• pf«Tlaat,l»odl»aaawipaportto*a. Howaaa aiptiwaf Jafca Mafaa, aaltor of 

Doaa r ttM ftai ly «M towa or <to tMoa, 


ttorr^ *w oMk Morn itod aaa. tto ilBiMr anjaakla*! 
Ifa ayo Um dry flaer. MogV- «to dBf a^ aa tioilrta't 


Daaabf Mor»li 

▲■* tto ••fl.toaaM a«w otaopo tot ito wood^ at Mi aMa*. 

far tto laat a^ tto MOM *ari faaal 
yaa<r>atla'atMor»aoe aaa n a tl aa r oa laofctao! 
Kaa towtowdlo gattloaa-aaa ■Mfi'paddto* yaofelaaf 
Vao toaa I* tto yMK^ twtk Uawa hmO ap Oksdootoaol 

Mora aaM |yar» l « t> >t l aaKM doad rito Ai 
Bar tola, fcathy ailaalo, itolaffaa'awa't 
Ttopoyoatorpowtota^— ortyaorl 

Otttlteatotoatio! ttoagk ak I* tto dof wTia^ 

Think ctot tto grwa fia* IMP aa diV te kiV «•' |a K- 
Thtnk o' tto loal BilBBlo aianai to upo w» |al 


Xallan' joes — Hielan' joes — Meg ance had wale ; 

Fo'k wi* the siller, and chiefs wi' the tail ! 

The yaud left the bum to drink out o* Meg's pail — 

The sheltie braw kent " the Maclane." 
Awa' owre the muir they cam' stottin' an' stoicherin' ! 
Trainper an' traveller, a' beakin' an' broicherin' ! 
Cadgers an' cuddy -creels, oigherin' ! — hoigherin* ! 

" The lanlowpers !" — quo' Maggy Maclane. 

Cowtes were to fother : — Meg owre the bum flang ! 
Nowte were to tether : — Meg through the wood rang ! 
The widow she kenn'd-na to bless or to bann ! 

Sic waste o' gude wooers to hain ! 
Yet, aye at the souter, Meg grumph'd her I an' grumph'd her! 
The loot-shouther'd wabster, she huniph'd her! and humph'd htirl 
The lamiter tailor, she stump'd her! an' stump'd her! 

Her minnie might groo or grane ! 

The tailor he likit cockleekie broo ; 

An' doon he cam' wi' a beck an' a boo ; — 

Quo' Meg, — " We'se sune tak' the cleckcn aff you;" — 

An' plump ! i' the burn he's gane ! 
The widow's cheek redden'd ; her heart it play'd thud! aye ; 
Her garters she cuist roon' his neck like a wuddie I 
She linkit him oot ; but wi' wringin' his duddies. 

Her weed -ring it's burst in twain! 

Wowf was the widow — to haud nor to bing ! 
The tailor he's afF, an' he's coft a new ring '. 
Th' deil squeeze his craig's no wordy the string ! — 

He's waddet auld Widow MacIaue ! 
Auld ? — an' a bride ! Na, ye'd pitied the tea-pat .' 
O saut were the skadyens ! but balm's in Glenlivat 
The haggis was bockin' oot bluters o' bree-fat. 

An' hotch'd to the piper its lane.— 

Doon the bumside, i' the lown o' the glen, 
Meg reists her bird-lane, i' a but-an-a-ben : 
Steal doon when ye dow, — i' the dearth, gentlemen,— 

Ye'se be awmous to Maggy Maclane ! 
Lane banks the virgin — nae white pows now keekin 
Through key-hole an' cranny, nae cash blade stan's sleekiu' 
His nicherin' naigie, his gaudamous seekin' ! 

Alack for the days that are gane ! 

Lame's fa'n the Bouter!— some steek i' his thiel 
The cooper's clean gyte, wi' a hoopin' coughee ! 
The smith's got sae blin' — wi' a spunk i' his e'e ! — 

He's tyned glint o' Maggy Maclane ! 
Meg brake the kirk pew -door— Auld Beukie leuk'd near-na her} 
She dunkled her pattie — Young Sneckie ne'er speir'd for her ! 
But the warat'a when the wee mouse leuks oot, wi' a tear to her, 

Frae the meal-kist o' Maggy Maclane I 


AttlD I^Mn <St>9. 

rTiramBbMflM«aM.«IM «• TIm BridtgiMB fMlto frtM tk> tM ^« «OTni." wHii t» «M 
•rentooramBMvlatladdtcBtaciMnetv. Abottlw— <«rim<rlnlBBl^«fnTl,a|oitMy 
la FlftAlm, tb* dnigMw sT A aebto •ndly tho*. ud tiM Mly IB hw tirwtHim fwr. b#i« ««y 
t»d of the taM. Imt MfvpaloM abfivi tiM wwAi, tlMgkt *• VMM try IMT Im4 ■» I 
B«» wMfds to H. 8h« ■winwMNt^r *> •» wk. nrf f ri l Bii i a iivplB tellidart 
\oD bwPMrii^ > ■■■ ■ ♦ n— > wi » *i<wltkmy>w wlw m w Hi| 

It Bttto baOaa, «U* NMitfi • trafiiy la ««M 
» Mi4 yrt <f iMtrt Btmilm f >fc««i *- «■■< "AsM 1 
nthoMi WM luiM Am l4aMAT, 4m«IM» if llw SmI ar BalanM* Ir Mi •MMM, Am Balnnii- 
pK<aa«htircf8lrEob«tHaliy«pl>af ft aai t iBa,BBrt, A* «aa ban «■ tfw tlk On. VML aa« 
wa«aBafftodlal7WtoarAadiawBaraai<,awaafifc»Mihapaf Ih a wW ^aai CV iliia l i il ii iHa n 
aft llM cap* oTOaad Bopa. Hot Inntead 4M la U« wttkoat Imm t kw awa 4«lii «M Ml laka 
phMlffltlM Miorilajr. 18K, at Bvkky Svaank LaadM,wlMariMhailai«i«li«<. **Latfy 
Abb BanMidH ftet," M7B Mr. Ckafto KbkpaMWi Shaffa, •'WM pm^, aad layMt witk vHasHy t 
her fltaia light aad •kgaati hm aMvmatlM ttw^t aa«, Hht Iha ml af h« iMllr. yii ll a rt y 
affTMabto. Tho«ghrfwhadwlt,thaM««rMldlll-wrtaiaittlacito*airlti AtfavahMarifMaln 
althv M a WHBM ar laak ar M tha MthoaM «f AaU BaMa Ony.'^-Aartly Mbfa h» 4«Ch. aha 
anada a flomMnkallM «a Or Wallw SmM. aaaliteiaf a Mfliid aafy ar AaU BaWM Oiaf, vllh !*• 
^mnm af a aotlaaatlOB m wap«d pttt. ThM Mw pHa tiihialMa 4ta i il ii i fcr tha DaaaatyM 
Ctah. lBtiw|iii>iiililiiwHidalift>irftanthaMlhwM,awhkhaia Mah» Iht WNbIi^ <a. 
tvaM.-** Babte Orny. w cdbd fta» Mi h«h« th» aam aftht ay hard aft BatariM^ «M b«B [writ. 
lm]Maaaflwtht«lonartlM yaarlTTl. M j ilrtv Ma^poat had MVtM, aad i 
hartaadtoLeBdMt laM niAa rti n« y,aad M id » ia ai » d toaawMi " 
ItoallrttH. Th»a aM m b b bIi I »aHh wd whfah 1 wm p 
wha ttvad bilbra yaar ^, Biid to ili« H to at at V 
l>tr««rte,thaafhldld. I loiwtd to tlag aM ■tpk|r^ air to dWMwt aaadt. aad gtar to Nt ilidatNa 
toetttomt mu hittoty tf i hl a u w dirtiatt la h Mi M i 1Mb, atth - light atift It. WhBttHwifHti 
t^ tOtoft thit hi ny tlottt. I aalltd to any Milt rittor. aa«r Ladjr Ranlwlthtw vha Mt Iha aa^ yanta 
B«araM,*Iha(fabtta«rttlBffahaaad,atydtari t aai np iiait g ayhwilai arWh aaaf ariaka- 
taaat. I haat alrtady ttat htr Jaartt to tto M d Imh it htrh nh ti^ a t w M d atoit htr toajhtr 
fcBtlt h aa d ghta har AaM Bthla On^ kr htr lattri hat l»Witolt«l htr «Mi a Mh wvaw 
wlthlathafearllatt,poarthli«l Bdp aa to aat^^-^Smi tha aatr. MUrr Aaaa.' addtha IMIa 
Btaabtth. Tha aew vm faaaMdtatoty ItrM If aa, aad Iht tM« a«Bplttod. At aar aiiMii, aad 
aaMegHaaraalghbaatB.'AaMBoMaOffay'^waHmiaaaBtdair. I wat piraw d la ttwaft with tht 
appaohaftfaaKawtwIthihafttartiaataydwadaf hthif ii H i u iilafwrHiag aaythhn, p ttatiy hn 
IbtthyattttewaifttdhittMtwhaaBaldwrttoaathhifcthatltawftJIyhtptayaaraaMat. . . . 
MaaaUna, UtUt aa thit Bialtor tHnit to ha«a toM vartfqr af a 4 lt|«ato. It altorwanlt bttatot a party 
qaw t l a a UtiraaB tht dattaath aad tighftttath atatatttt. * BaUa Gray Ma tithar a vary aaaltat 
ballad, aompottd perhapt by David Btala, aad a giaat aailaalty, ar a vary ladtra aiattor, aad m 
carlotlly at aO. I waa ptntauttd to avow whtthtr I had wrtttaa It ar Ba««— whtvt 1 had got M. 
Old8ophykaptmyaoaBatl,aadIhtpftaiiy«f«B,taipltoarttMgiBtMaatlaa af ittlag a lavpaid at 
twaaty gatatat oftaad la tht atwtpaptn to tha pavtta a>ha thaa U amrtal a tha palat patt a daa b t, 
aad tht ttUl nart Batteriag d n ianit to H t t aT a vMt ftan Mr. Jvralaghaai, atartlaffy to tht Aatltaa* 
i1aa8oeiaty.wboaBdtav««iadtoaatiapthato«thfta»aalaaaaaaarl«aakaada. BadhaMhad 
B>t tht <|BtaticB obUgtegly, I thoald bava ttid hha tht fcat dhfthitHi aad aaagdaallan/. Thaaaaayw 
aaaa, howevar, or thia Inportaat aiBbaaaidar ftaai tha Aa t lq aaiha , wat aaiply rtyald to aw by tht 
aaUa azhlMtloo of tht ' Oanat or Aald BeUa OtaTb Oaaitohlp,* aa ptrtmaad by daaatag-dagi aadai 
- w. It ptwad it papabtflty ft— thahlghwt to tht loMat. aad gava aw pi ii whOt 1 


hugged myself In my obscurity." It i-emains to be added, that although " Auld Robin Gray" was 
originally written to the old tune of " The Bridegroom greits when the sun gaes down," it is now, 
with the exception of the first verse, which retains the old air, universally sung to a beautiful modern 
tune, composed by the Rev. William Leeves, rector of Wrington, who died in 1828. aged 80. "We do 
not here give the continuation or second part of" Auld Robin Gray," in which the old gentleman is 
made to die, and " young Jamie" to marry the widow, as it is admitted on all hands to be a failure, 
and to destroy toLilly the beauty of the original story. In the present version we follow chiefly the old 
reading, which differs somewhat from that given by the authoress when late in life, as the alterations 
she then made do not appear to us to be improvements.] 

When tlie sheep are in the fauld, and the k)*e a" at harae. 
When a' the weary world to sleep are gane. 
The wacs o' my heart fit' in showers frae my e'e. 
While my gudeman lies sound by me. 

Young Jamie lo'ed me weel, and sought me for hia bride ; 
But saving a crown he had naething else beside. 
To make the crown a pound, my Jamie gaed to sea; 
And the crown and the pound, thev were baith for me ! 

He hadna been awa' a week but only twa, 

Wlien my mither she fell sick, and the cow was stown awa ; 

My father bralc his arm — my Jamie at the sea — 

And Auld Robin Gray came a-courting me. 

My father couldna work — ^my mither couldna spin ; 
I toil'd day and night, but their bread I couldna win ; 
Auld Rob maintained them baith, and, wi' tears in his e'e. 
Said, " Jenny, for their sakes, will you marry me ?" 

My heart it said na, and I look'd for Jamie back ; 
But hard blew the winds, and his ship was a wrack : 
His ship it was a wrack ! Why didna Jenny dee ? 
And wherefore was 1 spar'd to cry, Wae is me ! 

My father argued sair — my mither didna speak. 
But she look'd in my face till my heart was like to break ; 
They gied him my hand, but my heart was in the sea ; 
And so Auld Robin Gray, he was gudeman to me. 

I hadna been his wife, a week but only four. 

When mournfu* as I sat on the stane at the door, 

I saw my Jamie's ghaist — I couldna think it he. 

Till he said, " I'm come hame, my love, to marry tbee!^ 

sair, sair did we greet, and mickle did we say ; 
Ae kiss we took — nae mair — I bad him gang away. 

1 wish that i were dead, but I'm no like to dee* 
And why do I live to say, Wae is me! 

I gang like a ghaist, and I carena to spin; 
I darena think o' Jamie, for that wad be a sin- 
But I will do my best a gude wife aye to be. 
For Auld Bobin Gray, be is kind to me. 


Boomsa 80JV0& 

mii$tit o*ci tit labe o*t. 

o^" «M MnpOHd abmt ITS), by ioba Bnn. • 
nMrfotaB bdoi«lflC to DubMm. TIw old wocd« 
an «Bflt tar pabHwHon Tbo Mhmtag «a« 
viittM bjr BoBM «ir Joha«NiM Mmhm.) 

rian wkM lUnto wM wBf CM*. 
BwoMi, I thoi«lit, «M te IMT air I 
How ««^ morrtod iff* mm nHOrt 
Bui wUMh oW tiM !•«• on. 

ii Aafertkok 

MV peertttk M«w adk* K MMfft I 

BM kMVWI Mi b«M 0* UlM liopHl, 

A« WMkb^ iM «o«M iHito OTL 


Tboi»ftr o n l i^ oMarftMaoMidfrK. 

Wkv mon tfam OM^ bifilM t 
teo, wkMk o/W tbo lB«« oru 

How w* Uw, nj Mof aad wo. 

How W« lOVO, Md how W gIMk 

I cuoas bgr how ftw aiif OM : 
Bm, whkik onv Cht hn« on. 
Wha I wWi ««« manmr HHOt, 

®i)e IrBttH o' i^Oftftftf Vlttf • 

(Tmi* m«. to^tno or "yy^ <^ < *• 

Uvorpool oMnqr !«■•«•■•• MidMflf ataaaMiA* 
Tmonrdianor holdthMO to oHHMMnttMi «# 
ttM Mrth-day ofEoborl Dtfm.] 


Mo«a»Mth to Bfc — d Mfht o h oo u , 
Th«« to o^iejr tho lov* OX 
B«ra^ to tht hwd. *«. 

Am a a bMd, and wMto wo *talw 
Wo< rtoHolwir hlia tAt§H Bah, 
m >ov» iw •««, and aam «Mp itah 
BMMiliIko wMrttof WMO vx 

0t«rtUgf «iU) ti)e cm o't. 



flw yov IMl to Iho ma or«* WhMte ow Iho lM» 

DoMld. Tht M^lo PA. aad 
Urtaal laka«-^Aln»flM AaMftiHi «MM. 

Noo, bjr nj titi^. Ok taMMr dMP, 

I trow yr» a' tight wilaomi hwo i 

Won prov* to mirth o«r tMlo ttmr. 

Bat wlaiia prova tho davoo^ 

H—^ to tht had o^ Inn hh 

Tartan ktlto aad tany woo* t 
O fer a waaght o^ BK 


Dowf aad dowto bt bk lot, 
Wbat'er daslto a farlthor Soot, 
Vn' hdpinc haa' to ohart a gmd. 
If waat ritoold OMk* hka emm ot. 


I*«o wao^ yo aailr thaa hata y oar. 
▲a* ITjaf^d wad OM aoor ooa d ipo«. 

Wl' Matoaioi, aa* tho oavo &%. 
Jtaartothapolati daiiii I-ai witi 
WB fo ba aqr haf laawno. twoK > 
naha haa% aad wtff a hargala b* t, 

▲a* aOW thlak oa tfM oaio o-u 

Ka, aa, ^aar Kato. I wtaaa wad. 
O'tfoaMaMlH ayoborodoi 

^r aanhit*, aa' th» oaia v^l 
▲ «^l»B»'aall*o'glw. 
A wift atW tUak to atak* o* BM, 
rfeaa taB aa* iVfifw I'D hoop ftao. 


Weel, weel, said Robin, in reply, ^ The English Rose was ne'er sae red. 

Ye ne'er again shall me deny, 

The Shamrock waved whare glory led. 

Ye may a toothless maiden die 

And the Scottish Thistle raised its head. 

For me, I'll tak' nae care o't. 

An' smiled upon Vittoria. 

Fare weel for ever !— aflf I hie ;— 

Sae took his leave without a sigh ■ 

Loud was the battle's stormy swell. 

Oh ! stop, quo' Kate, I'm yours, I'll try 

Whare thousands fought and mony fell ; 

The married life, an' care o't. 

But the Glasgow heroes bore the bell 
At the battle of Vittoria. 

Rab wheel't about, to Kate cam' back, 

The Paris maids may ban them a'. 

An' ga'e her mou' a hearty smack. 

Their lads are maistly wede awa'. 

Syne lengthen'd out a lovin' crack 

An' cauld an' pale as wreaths o' snaw 

'Bout marriage an' the care o't. 

They lie upon Vittoria. 

Though as she thocht she didna speak. 

An' lookit unco mira an' meek, • 

Wi' quakin' heart and tremblin' knees 

Yet blythe was she wi' Rab to cleek 

The Eagle standard-bearer flees. 

In marriage, wi' the care o't. 

While the "meteor flag" floats to the bree/e. 

An' wantons on Vittoria. 
Britannia's glory there was shown, 
By the undaunted Wellington, 


An' the tyrant trembled on his throne. 

Whan hearin' o' Vittoria. 

[William Glbn.— Air, " Whistle o'er the lave 

Peace to the spirits o" the brave. 

.■)'t."— This song was written on the occasion of 

Let a' their trophies for them wave. 

the battle of Vittoria, at which the 71st or Glas- 

An' green be our Cadogan's grave. 

gow regiment of light infantry played a distin- 

Upon thy field, Vittoria ! 

guished part. We have been told, that when first 

There let eternal laurels bloom. 

produced at the old theatre in Queen street. 

WTiile maidens mourn his early doom. 

Glasgow, the song was received with rapturous 

An' deck his lowly honour'd tomb 

applause, and had a run of many nights.] 

Wi' roses on Vittoria. 

SjtNo a' ye bards wi* loud acclaim, 

Ye Caledonian war-pipes play. 

High glory gi'e to gallant Grahamo, 

Barossa heard your Highlan' lay. 

Heap laurels on our Marshall's fame. 

An' the gallant Scot show'd there that day. 

Wha conquer'd at Vittoria. 

A prelude to Vittoria, 

Triumphant freedom smiled on Spain, 

Shout to the heroes— swell ilk voice. 

An' raised her stately form again. 

To them wha made poor Spain rqoice 

Whan the British Lion shook his mane 

Shout Wellington an' Lynedoch, boys. 

On the mountains o' Vittoria. 

Barossa an' Vittoria ! 

Let blust'rin' Suchet crously crack. 

Let Joseph rin the coward's track, 

And Jourdan wish his baton back. 
He left upon Vittoria , 

1i©at im%. 

If e'er they meet their worthy king. 

Let them dance roun' him in a ring. 

[From " The Lady of the Lake," by SirW altrr 

An' some Scottish piper play the spring 

Scott. This may be appropriately sung to the 

He blew them at Vittoria. 

tune of " The Banks of the Devon."] 

Gi'e truth an' honour to the Dane, 

Hail to the chief who in triumph advances ' 

Gi'e German's monarch heart and brain ; 

Honour'd and bless'd be the ever-green Pine ! 

But aye in sic a cause as Spain, 

Long may the Tree, in his banner that glances-. 

Gi'e Britons a Vittoria. ^ 

■f Flourish, the shelter and pnice of our Ime ! 


■ — dlllMyw<iM, A Twmkmntnmmmtmtmmm. 

Moofd la lk» tMlai rsak, 
Piwrto Uh liBiiiU'w ikMk, 
FtaMT kt iwii khm tlM mte II Uott I 
M— *<tli —d lliwiaMiM, th— , 
liin Mi pulw MM, 

" Bpa«%h Ti* AipiM dte. iMiiHwr 


grvBH l»«v rial 

And UMb«t«r Lech UMoa«ll»4«4Mtarrida. 
Lot ■han iOT i l —riyt, 

lUak arOui-AlptaM Willi ter Md wMk «wt 


tr«rai»i«lliM laafMlMdM 

Olifcrt «!■) 



" ■odMlcil VM AlplM dkll, IWI IMW •■ 

^tts'fl ttoa lobcrtf. 

[Warrrair bjrBASBar Loeiioas, aboal UBi^tB 
thttoMofDmit DtdaDdMaryOraj." nt» 
Mitf Um edMr wag hf tkt wow •adMr, gHm la 
p. IM, bavt only bclbct appmnd la a ■nail local 
B»lto>naBy,«alilbd -Th»Tmmtl»9iAptn»J^ 

Ihua aaaty, !*«• tata laag jroar can^ 

Toar oeaBMb gald ka% Mhi awi 
■ow la a Uttl* OM sac* nair 

▲a* hallk 1 toal4r iPi^ «r I 
■Ml-Mpatlaaf ' 

Tb to a My plHMM BH, 


Bb latt aad iMto «allM aw t 
Dal, aaa^, 11 avw iraM la laa, 

Aa* tkas ftfiri to Maay t 
• toayato 

ttoa^ aa l aai M f , ito toi p ila irtto. 

tWitUAH CBAWat TWat, "Lawla Oe: 
- - J 



TW taw to yaatk aMy ftovi awldK 
Aad yaatldbl daya al'iay tofalla, 
TlM Vy* ka. wtUi law y crm, 
lljgrlMB«f*« ttoroaa^ li aaa i . 

WiMt tkoaglitka roH^ tdariM Mib 
Aad UlH dfaap toaMlk Um ttoidib 
la danaaal IfcUwyiBI iiaiala, 
Ttogmar to bad. to kh^am atato. 



®5ie UmH d tf)e W^hm. 

["These verses," says Burns, "were composed 
on a charming girl, a Miss Cliarlotte Hamilton, 
who is now married to James M'Kitrick Adair, 
Esq., physician. She is sister to my worthy friend 
Gavin Hamilton, of Mauchline; and was bom on 
the banks of Ayr, but was, at the time I wrote 
these lines, (August, 1787,) residing at Herveyston, 
In Clackmannanshire, on the romantic banks of 
the little river Devon. — I first heard the air from 
a lady in Inverness and got the notes taken down 
for tliifl work."— The name of the Gaelic air is 
"Banarach Donnach Ruidh," or "The Brown 

How pleasant the banks of the clear-winding 

"With green-spreading bushes, and flowers 
blooming fair 
But the bonniest flower on the banks of the Devon 

Was once a sweet bud on the braes of the Ayr. 
Mild be the sun on this sweet blushing flower. 

In the gay rosy morn, as it bathes in the dew ; 
And gentle the fall of the soft vernal shower. 

That steals on the evening each leaf to renew ! 

O spare the dear blossom, ye orient breezes, 

"With chill hoary wing as ye usher the dawn ! 
And fsiT be thou distant, thou reptile, that seizes 

The verdure and pride of the garden and lawn ! 
Let Bourbon exult in her gay gilded lilies. 

And England triumphant display her proud 
A fairer than either adorns the green valleys. 

Where Devon, sweet Devon, meandering flows. 

[Written by Burns fo* Thomson's collection, 
to the tune of " Rothiemurchus* Rant." The 
heroine was Jean Lorimer, of whom we have had 
occasion to speak in previous notes.] 

Lassie wi' the lint- white locks, 

Bonnie lassie, artless lassie. 
Wilt thou wi' me tend the flocks ? 

Wilt thou be my dearie, ? 

Now Nature deads the flowery lea. 
And a* is young and sweet like thee; 
0, wilt thou share its joys wi' me. 
And say thou'lt be my dearie, O ? 
Lajssie wi, &c. 

And when the welcome summer shower 
Has cheer'd ilk drooping little flower. 
We'll to the breathing woodbine bower. 
At sultry noon, my dearie, 0. 

When Cynthia lights, wi' silver ray. 
The weary shearer's hameward way. 
Through yellow-waving flelds we'll stray. 
And talk o' love, my dearie, O. 

And when the howling wintry blast 
Disturbs my lassie's midnight rest. 
Enclasped to my faithfu' breast, 
I'll comfort thee, my dearie, O. 

[Another song by Burns in honour of Jean 
Lorimer, the "lassie wi* the lint-white locks." 
Bums wrote it to aid the eloquence of a Mr. Gil- 
lespie, one of her suitors. The eloquence and the 
poet's verse were equally unavailing ; she married 
an officer who used her cruelly, and the result was 
a separation after a few months. " Craigie-bum- 
wood," says Currie, " is situated on the banks of 
the river Moffat, about three miles distant from 
the village of that name. The woods of Craigie- 
bum and Dumcriefl' were at one time fovourite 
haunts of our poet. It was there he met the 
' Lassie wi' the lint-white locks,' and there he con- 
ceived several of his beautiful lyrics." The chorus 
of the present song is old.] 

Sweet closes the evening on Craigie-bum-wood, 

And blithely awaukens the morrow; 
But the pride of the spring in the Craigie-burn 
Can yield to me nothing but sorrow. [wood. 
Beyond thee, dearie, beyond thee, dearie, 

And O ! to be lying beyond thee , 

O sweetly, soundly, weel may he sleep 

That's laid in the bed beyond thee J 

I see the spreading leaves and flowers, 

1 hear the wild birds singing; 
But pleasure they ha'e nane for me, 

While care my heart is wringing. 


I eurna Ml, I wtam Ml, 

Bat MOM |0«» wfll tewk ■ 

I M tiM* giMiteS iMltM, aM Ml, 


Ifth— wOiWitrfiliiilil 

la lot* to Ha and lH«iy*, 
Twad ba mjr dMi. llMt «a ka n«a, 
MybMrt«adb«M " 

Bat, J«aoto, aqr thoa wilt ba mfot. 
Hay. tboa lo'w aaaa hakn awi 

And a* Bj daia ar lift to aMoa 

Aad O, to ba lyliW toyvM Ckw* 
O ffWMtly, Kiaadiy, axMl SMf Im ilHp 
T1«n laid la tte bad b^wd IkM I 


tTma b aaaikar «OTri 

^f Vtan akora Vonaio. 


War IkM 0ik flV baMla kMi> 
WBt «kaa t*. «y bnw iHria, 

.Wnt Hwa go, mj ayar aay. 

8«mT fti'a tka ata a« GMgla-tatm, 
And blttba awabaa tha l a atf aw i 

Bat a' tha prida V apttat^ mbam 
Can TMd mt aaakt baft aav>«* 

laaa tha flow 



natal. Mb woaU I any grtaft tepart. 

Tat dan na Ibr your aagrr t 
Bat aaerat lova wtU biaak mj baan, 



If tboa abaH lava aalthar, 
Whaa jraa fvaaa laavaa iMla ftaa tba tMb 
gmva tbcy'U mithmr. 

Wr LawlMid ipaaobaa iM, laarfa, 
Wtet ka« Mpwtaaaaaa tea Iha baart, 
■aa M II ba tea IhtaMj laMa. 

Wr Av dbHV III da* Ikf waM, 
Wir «M aMad liv IMr. laaria t 
Tkoattriaay tartet XMMd aM tha wa*. 

■M^ baaoto «a flaa. M* 



ll hm tha an, tha hart, Iha ia^ 

Tha toaMtaa na riv, laa*h 
fbr dMh M* dmha l-B baal tha bnba. 

Taa, in fa, nf bmw laama; 

in hot mjr aaata. Ill «Mt tha foata, 
Oa tha btan abooa Bamw, laddla. 

Tha Ion thoa baar^M fer HMb hidd 
Dk }ogr aa* aan wl* thn in dban^ 
UatO tha day I daa. h 

anan waal, eana wM, 111 hilt aad taa, 
V» tha bmnabooa Baaaw, teddla." 



^ Anstruther Musomanik Society, in October, 1814. 

"We here give the author's latest improved copy. 

m^m ^utnimin* 

as it appears in his " Lays and Lyrics." The two 
versions, it will be seen, differ materially from 
each other.— Air, " Andro and his cutty gun."] 

[From a very elegant volume of poema, entitled. 

" Lays and Lyrics, by Captain Charles Gray, of 

Blythb, blythe, and merry are we. 

the Royal Marines, F. R. A. S. E. :" Edinburgh, 

Blythe are we, ane and a' j 

1841.— Captain Gray has been long known as a 

Aften ha'e we cantie been. 

successful song-writer. So far back as 1811, he 

But sic a nicht we never saw J 

published a small collection of " Poems and 

The gloamin saw us a' sit down. 

Songs," some of the latter of which have become 

And meikle mirth has been our fa'; 

established favourites with the public. The Cap- 

Then let the sang and toast gae roun' 

tain was a native of Anstruther, in Fifeshire: and, 

•Till chanticleer begins to craw 1 

alter a service in the royal marine forces of nearly 

Blythe, blythe, and merry are we — 

forty years, retired to Edinburgh, where he died. 

Pick and wale o' merry men ; 

14th AprU, 18->1. The present fine song has been 

"What care we though the cock may craw. 

set to music by Mr. Peter AJacleod.] 

We're masters o' the tappit-hen 1 

When autumn haa laid her sickle by. 

The auld kirk bell has chappit twal— 

And the stacks are theekit to baud them dry; 

Wha cares though she had chappit twa ; 

And the sapless leaves come down frae the trees. 

We're licht o' heart and winna part, 

And dance about in the fitfu' breeze ; 

Though time and tide may rin awa! 

And the robin again sits burd-alane. 

Blythe, blythe, and merry are we— 

And sings his sang on the auld peat stane; 

Hearts that care can never ding ; 

When come is the hour o' gloamin grey. 

Then let time pass—we'll steal his glaas. 

Oh ! sweet is to me tlie minstrel's lay. 

And pu' a feather frae his wingl 

"When winter is driving his cloud on the gale, ' 

Now is the witchin' time of nicht. 

And spairgin about his snaw and his hail. 

. When ghaists, they say, are to be seen ; 

And the door is steekit against the blast. 

And fays dance to the glow-worm's licht 

And the winnocks wi' wedges are firm and fast. 

Wi' fairies in their gowns of green. 

And the ribs are rypet, the cannel a-light. 

Blythe, blythe, and merry are we— 

And the fire on the hearth is bleezin' bright. 

Ghaists may tak' their midnicht stroll ; 

And the bicker is reamin' wi' pithy brown ale; 

Witches ride on brooms astride. 

Oh • dear is to me a sang or a tale. 

While we Bit by the witchin' bowl 1 

Then I tove awa' by the ingle -side. 

Tut ! never speir how wears the morn— 

And tell o' the blasts I was wont to bide. 

The moon's still blinkin' i' the sky. 

When the nichts were lang and the sea ran high. 

And, gif like her we fill our horn, 

And the moon hid her face in the depths of the sky. 

I dinna doubt we'll drink it dry! 

And the mast was strained, and the canvass rent. 

Blythe, blythe, and merry are we— 

By some demon on message of mischief sent ; 

Blythe out-owre the barley bree ; 

Oh ! I bless my stars that at hame I can bide. 

And let me tell, the moon hersel' 

For dear, dear to me is my ain ingle-side. 

Aft dips her toom horn i' the sea 1 

Then fill us up a social cup, 

And never mind the dapple-dawn ; 

^^e Social €ui^> 

Just sit awhile— the sun may smile 

And licht us a' across the lawn; 

Blythe, blythe, and merry are we ;— 

[At page 192 will be found the original version 

See : the sun is keekin' ben ; 

of this popular song, by Captain Charles Gray, 

Gi'e time his glass— for months may pass 

which was written for the first anniversary of tlie^ 

p Ere we ha'e sic a nicht again ! 


SnUtet 0i'9,m%ttt. * Kit SU^grt* gulx. 

-Air, ** J«nnr> Bkwtaa.-] 

O AuJvrsa M'ALLtrrca, 
Toar ilMintrr mU m •' aaCif 

1 ad 94iMr «■ tiN gnM. 

TIM adBw, HiU>, «M fldftai' Ma 
TodMM tlM HicbUad flta^ hk Imm, 
H* lap M kith M Ikva^ waoM, 

Aa roaad aboot tlM itaf h* wkadt, 

Ohipw rMr." VM Hpalw at a mkmi ang 
'itwiad awala M^ir, >iiagfcl HI 

Wacaaliwa aatfrii« af Mm aattar k<y«M ikal 

^Mbyttadaaii^iiiliit. Ba dkd ai l^tliwd, 
mkrMw.lM4 TiM Mraf 01a«ivlilMMaa* 



tta MaMd vaafc af Ja|7 II 

O, Tsa va ftaa OM MM Wai d «ai 

FarllM kdi aad tka kaM aia 
ABd a* ba^ aaw la a HMTi 

r>i^ haalB |«b Md IM at ba laaglag. 
0», Mtfi, van ba lH«MM 1 kar. 

Ilk I 
Tba fary loadlai 

>-i wiwg 1 ■l■ ^y ««■■» Tbaa Tarn km fat a^ la a hany^ 

9fm wt* aaaa aad aaalH. H •A*' ^'**' ^** I** *"*^ MomI* aaad, 

a'bkara^BMdldiaK Aad a plat •• aUlb bna* bt did wany. 

1W aMfc* hka aaik lai«h kr Ite f«^ t 

O immrM«A 



For ha got baad & alawaiM Kak, 

** OaaM bHa," qaec ba, ** in tbaw tba gala 

t9 teaoa tba M%^«r-f ftag.** 
Tht msbkDd flat ba daaaad wr ska, 
Aad kp aa ba «M« twn to Ami 

d tript It light 


Aad WMiy booghi aia waatla* latt, 

B«M«i th^ Mir wi* drouth wm« atrat, 

Wl' danein' «• I waen. 
I tfov tht gauotTMa gat a lift, 
A ad rooad tha bicker fWw lilw drift. 
And AUkkr that vtry night, 

Ouold aoaroaly ataod hk koa. 
O AUkkr UU 


Oa paiyaM iha laaaa kr la 


Vaw Ibm bt vaa bhHBk« dM l«Mr, 
Taa altht ba bad gat btaaal ka, 

Aad tf]*kd gkad Mi^gy MaeTkar, 
Aad kith ba tbeeht ibaaM kr to f«ib 

Uh aariaa, fbr aadgk. Ml a o cblag 

Vpea thak wbkt nagaaad thair hnmm, 
Wl* anoflBg. and kaghlng, aad JokSag, 

Eb • kfd what a awam o* l«Bw Mb, 
Baw^<pa«r|jr, wfld baaaCa, wbad ar kitana, 
Swaalyalaa's, Maktar Paaeh.aadyBab Jack 


Now WUlock and Tam gayan bouzie, l 

i Says Tam, " Wlia did that, deil confound him— 

By this time had met wi* their joes. 

Fair play, let me win at the loon," 

Consented wi* Gibbie and Susy 

And he whirled his stick round and round him. 

To gang awa' down to the shows ; 

And swore like a very dragoon. 

'Twas there was the fiddling and drumming, 

Lilt te turan an uran, &c. 

Sic a crowd they could scarcely get through. 

Fiddles, trumpets, and organs a bumming ; 

Then next for a house they gaed glow'ring. 

O. Sirs, what a hully-baloo. 

Whare they might get wetting their mou'. 

Lilt te turan an uran, &o. 

Says Meg, " Here's a house keeps a pouring, 
Wi' the sign o' the muckle black cow." 

Then hie to the tents at the paling. 

" A cow !" quo' Jenny, ' ' ye gawky ! 

Weel theeked wi' blankets and mats. 

Preserve us ! but ye've little skill. 

And deals seated round like a tap-room. 

Did ye e'er see a hawky like thai- 

Supported on stanes and on pats ; 

Look again and ye'U see it's a bill." 

The whisky like water they're selling,— 

Lilt te turan an uran, &c. 

And porter as sma' as their yill,— 
And aye as you're pouring they're telling, 
"Troth dear, it's just sixpence the gill!' 
Lilt te turan an uran, &c. 

But just as they darkened the entry. 
Says Willie, " We're now far eneugh, 

I see it's a house for the gentry,— 

Let's gang to the sign o' the pleugh." 

Says Meg—" See yon beast wi' the claes on't, 
Wi' the face o't as black as the soot, 

Preserve's ! it has fingers and taes on't— 
Eh, lass, it's an unco like brute '" 

" Na faith," then says Gibbie, " we'se raither 
Gae dauner to auld Luckie Gunn's, 

For there I'm to meet wi' my faither. 
And auld uncle John o' the Whins." 
Lilt te turan an uran, &c. 

" 0, woman, but ye are a gomeral. 

To mak' sic a won'er at that, 

Now they a' in Luckie's had landed. 

D'ye na ken, you daft gowk, that' a mongrel. 

Twa rounds at the bicker to try. 

That's bred 'twixt a dog and a cat." 

The whisky and yill round was handed. 

Lilt te turan an uran, &c. 

And baps in great bourocks did lie. 
Blind Aleck the fiddler was trysted. 

"See yon souple jaud how she's dancing. 

And he was to handle the bow; 

Wi' the white ruffled breeks and red shoon. 

On a big barrel head he was hoisted. 

Frae tap to the tae she's a' glancing. 

To keep himsel' out o' the row. 

Wi' gowd and a feather aboon.— 

Lilt te turan an uran, &c. 

My troth, she's a braw decent kimmer. 

As I have yet seen in the fair." 

Had ye seen sic a din and guffawing. 

"Her decent!" quo' Meg, "she's a limmer. 

Sic hooching and dancing was there. 

Or, fiiith, she would never be there." 

Sic rugging, and riving, and drawing. 

Lilt te turan an uran, &c. 

Was ne'er seen before in a fair. 
For Tam, he wi' Maggy was wheeling. 

Now Gibbie was wanting a toothfu'. 

And he gied sic a terrible loup. 

Says he, " I'm right tired o' the fun. 

That his head came a thump on the ceiling. 

D'ye think we'd be the waur o' a mouthfu* 

And he cam' down wi' a dump on lus doup. 

gude nappy yill and a bun ?" 

Lilt te turan an uran, &c. 

" Wi' a' my heart," Tam says, " I'm willing,— 

'Tis best for to water the corn ; 

Now they ate and they drank till their bellies 

By jing, I've a bonnie white shilling. 

Were bent like the head o' a drum. 

And a saxpence that ne'er saw the morn." 

Syne they raise, and they capered like fillies. 

Lilt te turan an uran, &c. 

Whene'er that tlie fiddle play'd bum. 
Wi' dancing they now were grown w«ary. 

Before they got out o' the bustle. 

And scarcely were able to stan'. 

Poor Tam got his fairing I trow. 

So they took to the road a' fu' cheerjr. 

For a stick at the ginge'bread play'd whistle. 

As day was beginning to dawn. 

And knocked him down like a cow : { 

■f Lilt te turan an uran. &c. 


ThM hMl Ml aw cfw, JsmK 

Thorn hM* Ml vm aw. 
▲llMi kMl IhM «ewK tliM iwl 

Vtfw tImi'M Mi thy iMi Ibray*- 


8oM ■» «wfy c^M III «lai^ 

^8 ^' i^tdqn* 

(JAim Bom.] 

8h«^ pl»r^ tiM 4«a 


Aa* •Bool'tf him 

n* ftoaglMBaa ploafht wlUieat tha aoek • 

Tba fidaaa whiMla* vanly ] 
The riHvbwd pla« aaww kh terii. 

Th* tailor lad's ^•a «««r tlM bad I 

Tho ooMor oa*! a paHojrt 
Tho wwvarH aobt out thraofh.tho «*b, 





[W'sirraa tjr Bvaat Ibt TknMWH MBvotioa, 
»a tho tarn or '«Tho C>aahirt Wlfc." O o rta ti 
{A(pm M* f .i h eoi) lo tfco i l j u l of tha — n.] 






Tata awy tWaooyooof loo% 
Uitldl>a»tlfc|lio III 

WlAi b Mb whM wMMlat la«a> 

mihto ' 


iratafony a ia m la t . 

(Mo4ora Jaootllt oMf .] 

n«^ amo tho hOk that I lo^ «arf { 
BoH o««« tho hUli w daiaaa aoaM. 
B«1 owia tho hUli aiOBt DamhhUM. 
Wha oooa wU flrt Mo woieoaM hana. 

My Mhor» IBM fta tfhl flbr hha. 
My Mthon wtaaa hUo at hana. 
My Bilthor giooli aad ptays to thon, 
▲ad ^too4 iho thlaks thoyn ao to Mhw 


The Whigs may scofif, the Whigs may jeer, ^ 

But, ah I that luve maun be sincere. 

Which still keeps true whate'er betide. 
An* for his sake leaves a' beside. 

iWsr]CP blearier* 

He's owre the hills, && 

[Written by Thomas Atkinson. Setto music 

His right these hills, his right these plains ; 

by T. M'Farlane. Mr. Atkinson was a bookseller 

O'er Highland hearts secure he reigns; 

in Glasgow, and author of a vast variety of fugi- 

What lads e'er did, our lads will do: 

tive pieces in prose and verse. He died of pulmo- 

Were I a lad, I"d follow him too. 

nary disease while on his passage to Barbadoes for 

He's owi-e the hills, &c. 

the benefit of his health, on the 10th of October, 
1833, in the 32d year of his age.] 

Sae noble a look, sae princely an air. 

Sae gallant and bold, sae young and sae feir; 

She's aff and awa' like the lang summer day. 

Oh ! did you but see him, ye'd do as we've done ; 

And our hearts and our hills are now lanesome 

and dreary ; [brae. 

He's owre the hills, &c. 

The sun-blinks o' June will come back ower the 
But lang for blythe Mary fu' mony may weary ■ 

For mair hearts than mine 

Kenq'd o' nane that were dearer; 

n m^^'^ ftomg. 

But nane mair will pine 

For the sweet Mary Shearer 1 

[James Hooo.] 

She cam' wi" the spring just like ane o' its flowerr, 
And the blue bell and Mary baith blossom'd 

Where the pools are bright and deep. 


Where the grey trout lies asleep. 

The bloom o' the mountain again will be ours. 

Up the river and o'er the lea. 

But the rose o' the valley nae mair will come 

That's the way for Billy and me. 

hither ! 

Where the blackbird sings the latest, 

Her kind looks stUl endear her; 

Where the hawthorn blooms the sweetest. 

For the heart maun be dead 

Where the nestUngs chirp and flee. 

. That forgets Mary Shearer! 

That's the way for Billy and me. 

Than her brow ne'er a fairer wi' jewels was hung ; 

Where the mowers mow the cleanest. 

An e'e that was brighter ne'er glanced on a lover ; 

Where the hay lies thick and greenest; 

Sounds safter ne'er dropt frae an aye-saying tongue. 

There to trace the homeward bee. 

Nor mair pure is the white o' her bridal -bed cover. 

That's the way for Billy and me. 

! he maun be bless'd 

Wha's aUowed to be near her; 

Where the hazel bank is steepest. 

For the fairest and best 

Where the shadow falls the deepest. 

0* her kind's Mary Shearer 1 

Where the clustering nuts fall free. 

That's the way for Billy and me. 

But fkrewell, Gleulin, and Dunoon, and Loch 

Why the boys should drive away 

My country and kin !— since I've sae lov'd the 

Little sweet maidens from the play, j 

stranger ; 

Or love to banter and fight so well. 

Whare she's been maun be either a pine ora heaven. 

That's the thing I never could tell. 

—Sae across the braid warld for a while I'm a 

But this I know, I love to play. 

Though I try to forget- 

Through the meadow, among the hay; 

In my heart still I '11 wear her :— 

Bp the water and o'er the lea. 

For mine may be yet. 

That's the way for Billy and me. ^ 

; —Name and a'— Mary Shearer ! 



^ob toed, ms (oatle. 

CTmn a aiian p*riodS«l oOhd '*T1m Was- 
«to6tai|0wlBlflia. TlMwwAi 

Mam wmk, ay SMny bmb m% 

▲ad thm^ griif la aqr klfcM^ te'. 
▲Dd tiM ikW H teMOA Utkt •■ llM mmrj wm 

Aad *• »!■« tt Mmt HiM, amA lh> i 

■ tfa* dMp, 4wp nm la tiM Mh, alt kniw 

0SilIif hxtTn^ a petit o' ma«t. 

rwanraa fey BvBM la 17*. Mi Ml l» BMl* 
bf ABM MmMIiib la J«lw«a^ MaMM. Loriu 
hart IM pVMMand thii ** tiM kal of an Bafagii 
t I /■ ■■■ii ptMH.- Tto aMa«li« wUjfk l» 
aaiaHatn lack plaaa ntanaa laa Vm^ MnHHi 
iriaol, ariha BUk MmI, WMafgli, Mi Aite 

Laou. la tba pailik af 1 

Iba «* m aairleaa Lerl aT fnpiili aaay Uk.- 
iriael,aa la daty beaad, pnwt aead kb bM. TW 

Wa an M ka, MTM M llMt fca. 
Bat >M a «aa iny la aar a^ I 

Tkna aMn^ kaja t toaw aia «ai 

Lad away a aMit wiT m wmnj ^mm 

Aad aaay aaa «• hapa la ka I 

It li tka Miaa I km I 

nan Utakki* tallM BA aw kiat 
ika Alaa aM kririH la vyla ai lHM% 

Ballf agr aaalk *•« Mil aaaa. 

Wka iaIAal ila •• gaac a«a% 

A aaakald aaaaii laaa to k* I 
Wka kM kaMa kli ateir tkiUl di*. 

Ha li Iha kla« Mai« ai tkiaa. 


pTitMM fey Ja«» aiB w ia aa a, aai pafeBAid 
la tfM aaoai vakaa af *• Tka Hatp mt CWido 
— — Uaa maal aai AUm 



Tto aaak alilM aaw, tka day arfgkt da« 

faataaroaladapaft. ** Tkt air li MaaMloa'fe,* 
ayi Bataa, "thaaoat bakMk ... Wa lad 
nek ajayooa aartlag. tkat Mr. MaaMtoa aad I 


O, Wttxia bnand a paak ar a 



Fsard wdhan anr mar Mid ma* 
kfcn tka Iktl apiumkli aata, 
•aak. Bit, kaMad yM wmaa an. 
Tat tkay taan m fea*. Aa. 

Tlat^ a* Ha naMtala lipa m Mr, 
Aad karalar ikaa irttk feliiwl^ pky 
▲vaka tte aam^ adid aite#. 
Bat ny tkay aat,aad a ya U w y aat 

**Tkaali jaat a «*a drap ta oar a^l 


The moon still fills her silver horn, '■ 

i A leal light heart beat in my breast. 

But, ah ! her beams nae mair they see ; 

My hands unstain'd wi' plunder; 

Nor crowing cock, nor dawning morn. 

And for fair Scotia hame again. 

Disturbs the worm's dark revelry. 

I cheery on did wander. 

For they were na fou, na, nae that fou. 

I thought upon the banks o' Coil, 

But clay-cauld death has clos'd ilk e'e. 

I thought upon my Nancy ; 

And, waefu', now the gowden morn 

I thought upon the witching smile. 

Ueams on the graves o" a' the three. 

That caught my youthful fancy. 

Nae mair in learning Willie toils. 

At length I reach'd the bonnie glen. 

Nor Allan wakes the melting lay, 

Where eariy life I sported ; 

Nor Eab, wi' fancy-witching wiles. 

I pass'd the mill and trysting thorn. 

Beguiles the hour o' dawning day. 

Where Nancy oft I courted. 

For though they were na very fou. 

Wha spied I but my ain dear maid. 

That wicked wee drap in the e'e 

Down by her mother's dwelling .■> 

Has done its turn — untimely, now 

And turn'd me round to hide the flood 

The green grass waves o'er a' the three. 

That in my e'e was swelling. 

Wi' alter'd voice, quoth I, Sweet lass. 

Ei$ ^^Ihux^^ Mrtuirn* 

Sweet as yon hawthorn's blossom, 
! happy, happy may he be. 

[The original words of the fine old Scotch air 
called " The Mill, Mill, 0," are rather coarse and 
indelicate. The same objection holds, though in 
a smaller degree, to Ramsay's version of " The 
Mill, MUl, 0," beginning. 

That's dearest to thy bosom . 
My purse is light, I've far to gang. 

And fain wad be thy lodger , 
I've served my king and country lang. 

Tak' pity on a sodger. 

" Beneath a green shade I fand a fair maid 

Was sleeping sound and still, 0." 

Sae wistfully she gazed on me. 

But the words of Burns to the same tune, which 

And lovelier grew than ever ; 

he wTote for Thomson's collection, are fortunately 

Quoth she, A sodger ance I loved. 

beyond the reach of cavil, being alike remarkable 

Forget him will I never. 

for purity of thought and diction. " Bums, I 

Our humble cot and hamely fare. 

have been informed," (thus writes a Dumfries- 

Ye freely shall partake o't; 

shire clergyman to Thomson,) " was one summer 

That gallant badge, the dear cockade. 

evening in the inn at Brownhill, with a couple of 

Ye're welcome for the sake o't. 

friends, when a poor way-worn soldier passed the 

window. Of a sudden it struck the poet to call 

She gazed— she redden'd like a rose— 

him in, and get the recital of his adventures; 

Syne pale as ony lily ; 

after hearing which he all at once fell into one of 

She sank within my arms, and cried. 

those fits of abstraction, not unusual to him. He 

Art thou my ain dear Willie ? 

was lifted to the region where he had his garland 

By Him, who made yon sun and sky. 

and his singing-robes al)Out him, and the result 

By whom true love's regarded ; 

was this admirable song he sent you for * The 

I am the man ! and thus may still 

Mill, Mill, 0.'"] 

True lovers be rewarded. 

When wild war's deadly blast was blawn, 

The wars are o'er, and I'm come hame. 

And gentle peace returning. 

And find thee still true-hearted ; 

Wi' mony a sweet babe fatherless. 

Though poor in gear, we're rich in love. 

And mony a widow mourning : 

And mair we'se ne'er be parted. 

1 left the lines and tented field. 

Quoth she. My grandsire left me gowd. 

Where lang id been a lodger. 

A mailin' plenish'd fairly; 

My humble knapsack a' my wealth ; 

Then come, my faithfu* sodger lad. 

A poor but honest sodger. i 

A Thou'rt welcome to it dearly. 


ror foM tfc> >■■! jliiigii l>> 


But SMvy ■ tks Mflfi^i pnM^ 

TIM «4lW^ KMlUlli kOMV. 

Id tW iiiiil |liimiHfc>— !■, A WBttkMgMalMtf 

kfOHrploMhstlwMMri Ummi»,Umt»? 

Vot aovat kim M ft K 
B««b« lM% Irii CMS 
la day aad kov fl^ tfMfK. 

Song to ^irit. 

[Warmor bf SasanAV Kaowixi, aad tot 
paMUhad In tte *'XdtaibaBk LMmy JavMl*** 
ia». SHtoBMMlobyJ.T.MiV.J 

Tras my ate, !•«•, fiTM Bif ■!■ t 

FofiM «t Mr, I MW M BMpy t 
BMrti Mt Ibad, ■• mm, lovaw aaaal 

Y«l« nqr aln i my dMT I aqr koaof * 
Twn • «««, a •eoM, amatal. 

Ha-* «■ lo^wl aad Uv^ tlMlttter 
Ilk — ■ lUmatlMlM^i 

T**n my •>», 1 ka^• mm Uk«l 

Wn «m mdr Ik* M mart t«» ? 
BoumoM «0ii Ika powv Omfs oiv Ml 


rar^ Ite dm* i fM, Itf or amr, 
T«^ my ala, wkam^ II mail 

Vbt eot%'%ulx\>. 

(Tan I* * soaf *BBdi1m*My *ldm tfMa 
«r Bam**y. althoivk II 1* aaaNtkam attribMid I* 
him. Tk* origlaal mnm m* glma te Tk*m**a'* 
OrpkMM <^l*d<witw (171ft.} Oa* or l«o oT tkm* 
am mo **—■ fcr lawUfcia. Tk* pm**al mml*a 
b gtvea ftma a «sUallaa «r mmml «aplm. A 
** ooek-lalid" m«m* a amll pmpriamr.] 

Wl* JtanladldaMM: 

B* kawmd, k* ktard her, 




Y* ■!!■■■ til 


A M Hl i m rt C ■ jl li i—l, 

T*il *apmyfc idrki 

Bm«a«a% tkBa<* pm* wad. 1 1 

Ola ftr* Im^ m* look hoaaK 

Aadikia* ' 

Aad il^pit«a«r ikm*b 
Boai Ik* ddr* la ymv «aai|y, 




fiB bay «agkl I aaW ka«* 

For «• MNMa ka^ bmwikkwv 


When broken, frae care v? But now he has gotten 

The fools are set free, 

A hat and a feather,— 

When we mak' them Mrda 

Hey, brave Johnnie lad. 

In the Abbey, quo' she. 

Cock up your beaver ' 

Cock up your beaver, 
And cock it fu' sprush. 


We'll over the border 

And gi'e them a brush; 
There's somebody there 

[James Stirrat of Dairy, Ayrshire. — Air, 

We'll teach better behaviour— 

•• Roy's Wife of Aldivalloch."— Here printed for 

Hey, brave Johnnie lad. 

the first time.] 

Cock up your beaver! 

Can my dearest Henry leave me ? 

Why, ah ! why would he deceive me ? 
Whence this cold and cruel change. 

^mn^ ^m% t^e Hl^eafefr. 

That bids him thus forsake and grieve me ? 

[Sir a. Boswkll, Bart.] 

Can he the hours of love forget. 

At Willie's wedding on the green. 

The stolen hours I'll mind for ever. 

The lasses, bonnie witches. 

When doun the burn we fondly met. 

Were a dress'd out in aprons clean. 

And aften vow'd we ne'er should sever ? 

And braw white Sunday mutches: 

Will my Henry then deceive me ? 

Auld Maggie bade the lads tak' teut. 

Faithless laddie ! can he leave me ? 

But Jock would not believe her; 

Ne'er till now did fancy dream. 

But soon the fool his folly kent. 

My dearest laddie sae would grieve me. 

For Jenny dang the Weaver. 
And Jenny dang, Jenny dang. 

And will he then me aye forsake ? 

Jenny dang the Weaver ; 

Must I for ever, ever lose him ? 

But soon the fool his folly kent. 

A nd can he leave this heart to break. 

For Jenny dang the Weaver. 

That swells and bursts within my bosom ? 

Never, Henry, could I leave thee. 

At ilka country dance or reel. 

Never could this heart deceive thee ; 

Wi' her he would be bobbing; 

Why then, laddie, me forsake. 

When she sat down— he sat down. 

And sae wi' cruel absence grieve me ? 

And to her would be gabbing ; 
Where'er she gaed baith butt and ben. 

The coof would never leave her; 
Aye kecklin' like a clocking hen. 

€uk uf ^mx Imhtx* 

But Jenny dang tlie Weaver. 
Jenny dang, &c. 

[Thk tune called " Cock up your beaver" is old: 

Quo' he. My lass, to speak my mind. 

it can be traced at least as far back as Playford's 

In troth I needna swither ; 

" Dancing-Master" published in 1657. Of the 

You've bonnie een, and if you're kind. 

original words, the first stanza here given is all 

I'll never seek anither: 

that remains: the second stanza was added by 

He humm'd and haw'd, the lass cried Peugh \ 

Burns for Johnson's Museum. Hogg gives some 

And bade the coof no deave her; 

additional verses in his Jacobite Belies.] 

Byne snapt her fingers, lap and leugh. 
And dang the silly weaver. 

When first my brave Johnnie lad 

And Jenny dang, Jenny dang. 

Came to this town. 

Jenny dang the Weaver; 

He had a blue bonnet 

Syne snapt her fingers, lap and leugh, 

That wanted the crown ; < 

} And dang the silly Weaver. 


i raili,1HM■totf^ryMlM•k■i.*• 

etomltt*^ lilt. 

[Tra aoMff «r 41rti b gNaa la tfM «Mai 
folMM of nammf TWTkbl* MiMrflMV wttk 
tlM dgMlan X. lifnlQflac tlM* Ite Mikar b aa* 
kaoim. It is alwsivMwttli tteMiil«,lB Iha 
OipbiiM CbkdoBi- C17».) Th« «n> Is llM ««■• 
kao«nioa*«r**BoUaA4^.'* BafaatekiiMlM 
toJokiHoal M«Mm, Mfii 
laiMrtm MeMBi of thk phOativ* 4ir«t 
Mttakatad to Mr. UdM bjr ASmami 
TjClv, bq. or Wnn i lhB i i wIi n -^ la i 
<od of lfc> lith watoiy Uw fTilili ilwi «««• pv» 
prtotow rf tiw — toto of QrnwilMN {mom 
tythoPuwiiiili) TteoUMlwiarilH 
WM vHy MMli aMMlMd to a 4MflM» of 
of Artod^ wiMwiialy kaofra ty Urn —to of fcb 

orMi Ui aihlNto to a l^-toMkto of tfto 
- aaMria, ia tfto laim i Wall ai^fc- 
of OtoMltok, aB4 mmtAt^mk, TVb 
[,aafcrtoaato|r.»to iin<| iinrtliof Hilirt 

VM. HoaftfcHr>W|i llMraHilitortto 

dladvaatofiof Gfe<aaaMi aa4 brtkoali- 

Mtbohladhlm, latho 

myaproofof tfco ilip of Monala^ mwoU 

■0 tlw ■toodtoM of hb lotow WbM tho wtM 
atoak tlMOflit ttao had aiMohutfj inBuil 
Boloa<fe oorvow. fm piopaoMi hiawlf •■ a lovort 
Boloa «ai obdttfatei bot at lart, ovoreoaH lor «ko 
>■■— dnoi of hto brodMrimk whom riM Hvod, 
aad who, haviat a fluaily of tirir^y oao ihAdiw. 
WM prokahly voty woD ploMid to gat h« off Mi 

■towoM. oaoof tho wooalna oooa of 1 
dtai,aadwha« yoaaiHl om^ ooaaaoa^ ooHod 
thoTMorof Aid«ah,dliitoiho |«w mj^i^id 


▲ad av poor hflut totnvM 

Aad thy iMud-hMfftodaoi 


la yoadw iVnadlac «ro«o, 
"" "othoato^ 

■ ttfMimiavMb, 

ThMO wflii iigh aad ra««. 

in haoo tho alarTy *y 
Ualfl aiy Hal oa high 



The courteous red-breast, he * 

f Gay the sun's golden eye. 

With leaves will cover me. 

Peep'd o'er the mountains high ; 

And sing my elegy 

Such thy morn ! did I cry. 

With doleful voice. 

Phillis the fair. 

And when a ghost I am. 

In each bird's careless song. 

I'll visit thee. 

Glad did I share ; 

Oh, thou deceitful dame. 

While yon wild flowers among. 

Whose cruelty 

Chance led me there; 

Has kill'd the kindest heart 

Sweet to the opening day. 

That e'er felt Cupid's dart. 

Rosebuds bent the devi^ spray; 

And never can desert 

Such thy bloom ! did I say. 

From loving thee I 

Phillis the fair. 

Dovm in a shady walk. 
Doves cooing were : 

^u^ 1 a mH. 

I marked the cruel hawk 
Caught in a snare. 

rWKiTTKN by BuKNs for Thomson's collection. 

So kind may fortune be. 
Such make his destiny ! 
He who would injure thee, 
Phillis the fair 

to the tune of " Robin Adair," The poet, in com- 
posing the song, had in his mind a passage in the 

history of his friend Cunningham, who was jilted 

*. AAx&uo uit; latjr. 

by his sweetheart under peculiar circumstances of 


Had I a cave on some wild distant shore, 

m^^n MnUn% Kitlj. 

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. 

[This is another song written by BuRifs, for 
Thomson's collection, in honour of Miss Phillis or 
Philadelphia Macmurdo. It i' adapted to the tune 

called " The Mucking 0' Geordie's Byre." The tune 

Falsest of womankind, canst thou declare. 
All thy fond -plighted vows— fleeting as air J 

To thy new lover hie. 

Laugh o'er thy peijury. 

Then in thy bosom try 
What peace is there. 

has its name from an old song, the subject of which 
was the complaint of a young lady (said to be a 
baronet's daughter) who, about the beginning of 

the last century, married one of her father's 

tenants. Being disowned by her family, she was 
obliged to submit to the drudgery of menial 
labour. The two first verses are all that can be 


The mucking o' Geordie's byre. 

mniii m fak. 

And shooling the gruip sae clean. 
Has gar'd me weit my cheeks. 
An' greit wi' baith my e'en. 

tAi,so written by Burns, for Thomson's collec- 

It was not my father's will. 

tion, to the tune of " Robin Adair." The Phillis 

Nor yet my mither's desire, 

here celebrated was Miss Phillis Macmurdo, after- 

That e'er I should fyle my fingers. 

wards Mrs Norman Lockhart of Camwath, who 

Wi' mucking o' Geordie's bjTe. 

died in 1825.] 

Balloon Tytler wrote a version of the old song, 
beginning, "As I went over yon meadow," but it 

While larks with little wing 

is very poor. In the Orpheus Caledonius, (172o,) 

Fann'd the pure air. 

the tune is given to different words, beginning. 

Tasting the breathing spring. 

" My father's a delvcr of dykes." These words 

Forth I did fare; ^ 

r Ramsay partially adopted in his song entitled 


"ShMl mmtrr vM* «■ U toMA at Fi«i 4 

thMi aT tk« Mi«, "TlM 

■ - - r «r - 

BttM or whWina llMit 

A wm Umtk tmlk ¥ lh« Tii wi, 
O' thn* Mli ^ Iww IM^ «a>d !««•, 

jkootnr wiatftaf ITttk I dM « 



Awft' «r|' foar haBHaai |« 

par At li ilaiylWtn «M<* 
¥» lowliad^ Iha Mifc af war ifcaiwiir. 

Bar awaM kalDf Hp wkaa lli pewit 
law lOr aai Wv pna b Um U^ ! 

Te« kaat af gi^ iaa*M la Ika aftaar, 
TiMy Ba^ wl* My PMBbaaa *l»i 

Bar bnalk b llM taaalk arika weadMi 
Ita 4aw.4ro9 af 4iaMaM iMr aya. 

liar vote* li tha aaog afllM aMti^ai, 
TlMt makaa Uneagli Ika pa«i « 

Tha Uoaaa af a taa MBUBW daf I 
Wbaa wartkln tha mind aTagr PhlilK 

WOl doarM wtthaol a dMay. 
Awa* wl* yovr ballaa and yoor bwatiat! 

Tbajr aavw wl' bar caa oompartt 

B«i BMl wf tha «MMi 0* tka fldr. 

rwaimv Igr tta kta laa. J. Viaai, mtoMw 
lf«aUM«fO«i<<»^kgF«a,- aTwhlaiitaaa awaa 
Miiaal liiHaa la tha laUiiiiidia »a tfca paa- 


Wro^M aa gla har Jadf I waa wmag} 
Uk da«d «* tiM Hatila ilfaka iNi, 

White. iMd ai a lawaek. aba auv I 
Bar Oaordte kad praalMd ta BMnrtak 

Aa* Mi«. aawam te ladMpab« 
Ka« dTMnato' tlwiak aaald MlMfrte, 

M7 Mabaatab dM Mg. allM jaar M, 
AB- aa' wa, daft. Hai ii ibal Mag, 

Aa' aajr. tlwy lainal aaaa » Iwar wa 
1* Iba kM, tar aay flm, ffM a ii« I 

Aa' aaar, tattiy iiiintui Ibryaltaa 
Aa'Oaa»dte,paarMfaw| iNgraa' 

Aa' aald daMH harial }— Vaa OMMar, 


lfiaat|a,yifcaalili Hi, 

nat llH «bM» V Mi a% li laro^ eat. 

That iMi kte* baMd li la^ aa a haibla, 
TIau Mi OMa «a Mi tark ns>t aha«i 

Hte plhatiaff waH MW tot Mm ii* I 
]f «r tiMt Mi haltii vhMa aa a dy^ 

Far, taat a iMir haa ha a»a I 

As* laath ar g«da fand te Mi ktet; 
Aa' tfaOkr aaaMa at ay wardla, 
y,I a a»a i aa fl wiiatl 


TharaH joit ba aa bar la any piaaaaia^ 
A bar tbati aft lll^i OM art' tatf , 

Ban lie a haid, na'ar-ba-fawa wkm, 
Ba Ukat hto «al te« tbaa hte fnr I 

Aa' awaar aeacbt wl' fewl caa aaMf 
Oadaaoalbl tt«llaMeffHaaaalltaiM 



I dreamt that I rade in a chariot, 

A flunkie ahint me in green ; 
While Geordie cried out, he was harriet. 

An' the saut tear was blindin' his een ; 
But though 'gainst my spendin' he swear aye, 

I'll ha'e frae him what ser's my turn ; 
Let him slip awa* whan he grows wearie, 

fcjhame fa' me ! gin lang 1 wad mourn ! 

But Geordie, while Meg was haranguin'. 

Was cloutin' his breeks i' the bauks. 
An' when a' his failins she brang in. 

His Strang, hazle-pike-staff he taks: 
Designin' to rax her a lounder. 

He chanced on the lather to shift, 
An* down frae the bauks, flat's a flounder. 

Flew, like a shot-starn frae the lift ! 

But Meg, wi' the sight, was quite haster'd. 

An' nae doubt, was bannin' Ul luck ; 
While the face o* poor Geordie was plaster'd. 

And his mou' was fill'd fu' wi' the muck ! 
Confound ye ! cried Geordie, an' spat out 

The glaur that adown his beard ran ; — 
Preserve us ! quo' Meg, as she gat out 

The door, — an' thus lost a gudeman ! 

[This is a fragment of a Jacobitical song con- 
tributed by Burns to Johnson's Museum. A 
Si urious addition to it is given by Cromek in his 
"Remains of Nithsdale and Galloway Song." 
The old tune of " Bannocks o' bai-ley" was origi- 
nally called "The Killogie," and was sung to 
words, here inadmissible, beginning, 

"A lad and a lassie lay in a Killogie." 
Hogg, in his Jacobite Relics, vol. i., gives a song 
to the same tune, called "Cakes of Crowdy," 
written against the Revolution of 1688, but it is 
not worth quoting.] 

Bannocks o' bear-meal, bannocks o' barley ! 
Here's to the Highlandman's bannocks o' barley ! 
Wha in a brulyie will first cry a parley ? 
Never the lads wi' the bannocks o' barley. 

Bannocks o' bear-meal, bannocks o' barley ! 

Here's to the Highlandman's bannocks o' barley ! 

Wha, in his wae days, were loyal to Charlie ? 
Wha but the lads wi' the bannocks o' barley ? 
Bannocks o' bear-meal, &c. 

lx%^u n mg name. 

[Attributed to the celebrated John, Dvks 
OF Arotll and Greenwich, who figures so 
favourably in the " Heart of Midlothian" as the 
patron of Jeanie Deans. He died in 1743, at the 
age of sixty-three. A modified version of the 
song, by Sir Alex. Boswell, Bart, of Auchinleck, 
is given in the 3d. vol. of George Thomson's col- 
lection. — Air, " Bannocks o' barley."] 

Argyll is my name, and you may think it strange, 

To live at a court, yet never to change ; 

A' falsehood and flattery I do disdain, 

In my secret thoughts nae guile does remain. 

My king and my country's foes 1 have faced. 

In city or battle I ne'er was disgraced ; 

I do every thing for my country's weal. 

And feast upon bannocks o' barley meal. 

Adieu to the courtie of London tovni. 
For to my ain countrie I will gang down; 
At the sight of Kirkaldy ance again, 
I'll cock up my bonnet, and march amain. 
O, the muckle deil tak' a' your noise and strife 
I'm fully resolved for a country life, 
"WTiare a' the braw lasses, wlia ken me weel. 
Will feed me wi' bannocks o' barley meal. 

I will quickly lay down my sword and my gun. 
And put my blue bonnet and my plaidie on ; 
With my silk tjirtan hose, and leather-heel'd shoon. 
And then I will look like a sprightly loon. 
And when I'm sae dress'd frae tap to tae. 
To meet my dear Maggie I vow 1 will gae, 
Wi' target and hanger hung down to my heel ; 
And I'll feast upon bannocks o' barley meal. 

I'll buy a rich garment to gi'e to my dear, 
A ribbon o' green for Maggie to wear; 
And mony thing brawer than that I declare. 
Gin she will gang wi' me to Paisley fair. 
And when we are married, I'll keep her a cow. 
And Maggie will milk when I gae to plow ; 
We'll live a' the winter on beef and lang kail. 
And feast upon bannocks o' barley meal. 

Gin Maggie should chance to bring me a son. 
He'll fight for his king, as his daddy has done ; 
He'll hie him to Flanders, some breeding to learn, 
^ And then hame to Scotland, and get him a farm. 

And «lMt1 bt «• teivy M M^fl* Md ■» ' 

Wfca JoH la fOT bomIim to Diwy L— i 
T« hMto 0^ BMrindtB, I Ud |«« adiM. 
fW drinldiv ud tawrlaff. I Imm H to ink 
rm MKr nnt*^ Air » «enti7 Bi^ 
Aad MM luit« «tn lt«« la hwry Bad Mrik I 
m aff to tiM HIghlMMh m hmrit I can ml. 
Aad whaiif 1 Um bMipocto cr barfay aiaaL 

3ai^ Bttidbat* 

rBoanr Vmrnu Air, 
Printed here wtth Um finiilalia «r JTIaalMpak* 
BstMT, Mr. T»H or Bdtobaish.] 


▲ MHRB aald caHhM b Ja 

▲ doadt aaM «BHtot b Jat 
fW a p* *i«y body. ««l hMk a«r and te. 


TWgr oaaaa flM fMt to Um paiMi a dny ; 
la tidi qaMTbtod «" warid UnnM BMiV a « 

Atoat— Hil» litoptoa 

Tcaia a ^aMr aaal-^dnd am |« aaa, JaaH 

Hm wteto to IW ailfMoai% aad jakM tiM gaM* 
mWitowpaaa — iad,toatWi ilUjaoald 

TaaYtaJMinyaaldbedi awto%littoyoafa 

^t 9Mitx'$ bonnff U^ie. 



Bv haaM Is a bawf to tiw b 

ni to IMT aald b« a* tlMir Hnaaa HMy toO. 
For ahrn Mold fBTtlMlr «!■■, ata tlw daadirito% 

Bat JaaofK hit ttoM to wboa alght wttin dMa, 
An* a' tiM aald wHas t»<hv to ftw tbo toaa. 
To tril wbaft iWy aw aa, aad liMt ItlMr «% 

■*-•-' r -^-^T^ nr1 rlaiTtilni»i Ttnrt ITartiar 

Aad,Of dMMaaadraaibaaatoj 
A laird IM «aa akat «ii«iM k«, 

BWi haMh to toadi aad tooa^r. 

Bat rfM »ad haM a •aiB«>. 

It wlmiiHr Pay ibr aaa oridi aw^ to lito 
Op«a «IM -ratgr b^fanlac " Wb«a H«bt 

A kivd IM aaa tlMt aN«bt iHr, 

AadJaaoTiaaldhoaMkasabattaadabM, fl Bat lo«« to IHm tiM a 

«^__-..w . ' ' m ^ Wbaaaaltodopttod 


He had the art to please ye, i 

^ Though ye had a' the sun shines on. 

And was by a* respected ; 

And the earth conceals sae lowly. 

His airs sat round him easy, 

I wad turn my back on you and it a'. 

Genteel but unaffected. 

And embrace my coUier laddie. 

The collier's bonnie lassie. 

Fair as the new-blown lilie. 

I can win my five-pennies in a day. 

Aye sweet, and never saucy. 

And spen't at night fu' brawlie: 

Secured the heart o- WiUie. 

And make my bed in the collier's neuk, 
And lie down wi' my collier laddie. 

He loved, beyond expression, 

The charms that were about her. 

Love for love is the bargain for me. 

And panted for possession ; 

Tho' the wee cot-house should h&ud me, 

His life was dull without hev. 

And the warld before me to win my bread. 

After mature resolving, 

And fair fa' my collier laddie. 

Close to his breast he held her , 

In saftest flames dissolving. 

He tenderly thus telled her: 

My bonnie collier's daughter. 

DdM^^^ ^Umn. 

Let naething discompose ye ; 

It's no your scanty tocher. 

[Written by Burns, for Thomson's collection, 

Shall ever gar me lose ye : 

to the tune of "The Collier's bonnie lassie."] 

For I have gear in plenty ; 

And love says, it's my duty 

Deluded swain, the pleasure 

To ware what heaven has lent me 

The fickle fair can give thee 

Upon your wit and beauty. 

Is but a fairy treasure- 

Thy hopes will soon deceive thee. 


The billows on the ocean. 

The breezes idly roaming. 
The clouds' uncertain motion. 

m^ ^dWzx %umk. 

They are but types of woman. 
! art thou not ashamed 

[TuNK. "The Collier's bonnie lassie."— "I do 

To doat upon a feature ? 

not know," says Burns, " a Wyther old song 

If man thou wouldst be named. 

than this."— The poet himself furnished Johnson 

Despise the silly creature. 

with a copy of the words and the tune for the 


Go, find an honest fellow ; 
Good claret set before thee : 

Whar live ye, my bonnie lass,. 

Hold on till thou art mellow ; 

And tell me what they ca' ye ? 

And then to bed in glory. 

My name, she says, is Mistress Jean, 

And 1 follow the collier laddie. 

See ye not yon hills and dales. 
The sun shines on sae brawlie ! 

^12 1© tie JPTOWRniD^, iU. 

They a' are mine, and they shall be thine. 

Gin ye'U leave your collier laddie. 

[James Macdonald.— Here first printed.] 

Ye shall gang in gay attire. 

Hie to the woodlands, hiej 

Weel buskit up sae gawdy : 

The balmy morning breeze. 

And ane to wait on every hand. 

And the laughing voice of merry spring 

Gin ye'U leave your collier laddie. a 

^ Are piping 'mong the trees. 



TiM Hft Mm sky, Um ipttatM «wth. 

Bto to *• woodlMidB, Mtt 

▲ad llM nttlt Mvii ai« di^liW Mytto 

la cfwy Doii MM* alMb aloag 
Ialwi<th>taitcfl>i>wiU—if I 
Tit lo*« thiU Mdi Umb dHui»-Bi 9 
Oht lb tlw fciwj mrnO t <fMiy. 


A noataUi* 

9i% SloamiiiB ^^ iHrtliiiis. 


Tbrnlorngtwrn t wammm h am n . 
Th* oowrflp aad Um ivNt Um- Ml, 
Tb* wfU row and th* ptaBpvMO, 

in Mdt tlM *a47 gnm, 
WltklMr au hMft ln«i kr III awB. 

▲ad *« aiy ao«H «no«<». 
TIm pavHt te«**r ftVB MWth tkal 

Th« imtbd — twtfcatiiat 

Am aoagkt to IMT I Mi-li f^r t 
Ok! Ih Ikt a » w| —atli <f lUy. 

Vi>f SKoot^Ittiu 




r Mfwl^ IIm tlMBBi cf Mm v^Biy MMadi^l* 

T»wk— tfciBBin ■Ill wliitiaffcowa. 

aad aritid dthw fbr tlw laa* of **LoA.SMck 
• Aaalib-) 

O tTAT, ai w i t witllag waeilMk, Miy, 

Nor quit fbr aw llM tPMMkig ifHf • 
▲ haplMi lowcoarli thj ta]r* 

▲tila, affalo that lcad« pari. 
That I may catch thy aMitfaig art : 
For Mudy that wad tooeh h«r b«art. 

IO>,dia>aMal ■ iiiftBHil i lit laillii . 
Tm^ tMa* wm a tart Ikrt t»MMiil%«M 
P ai atli t aokMfcaadlalyt | ilii M ia 

fly MUM iia •• pMr «mM Mt a Mr. 

Ok. iMpa. tMlli iMpib <kM art foao. pM, ftr rvor. 

Ve aMM tiv MgM kMMH Ma Oaiirii 
fW la tMi loM banai *al iMri* ft 

WUdilMi rftimk allk ililiMllii 

flay, WM thy llttloai 

▲ad board tkM ai tkr avalMi «la4 ^ 

BoO ilawtr aloi« o^ tko bod «r Ik* bnifvt 
Ok, v«fo aot bk bMd ftaai bli ooA Madr fOlav, 
Bat kMtM tko ooft OHMooodo aloag Igr biigmrob 

▲ad BihM bo tbo laA te tkooUBaoaorgloaBrfiV, 



[The story upon which this song is founded is 
thus related in the first edition of Sir John Sin- 
clair's Statistical Account of Scotland :— " In the 
burial-ground of Kirkconnell, are still to be seen 
the tombstones of Fair Helen, and her favourite 
lover Adam Fleeming. She was a daughter of 
the family of Kirkconnell, and fell a victim to the 
jealousy of a lover. Being courted by two young 
gentlemen at the same time, the one of whom 
thinking himself slighted, vowed to sacrifice the 
other to hia resentment, when he again discovered 
him in her company. An opportunity soon pre- 
sented itself, when the faithful pair, walking along 
the romantic banks of the Kirtle, were discovered 
from the opposite banks by the assassin. Helen 
perceiving him lurking among the bushes, and 
dreading the fatal resolution, rushed to her lover's 
bosom, to rescue him from the danger ; and thus 
receiving the wound intended for another, sunk 
and expired in her favourite's arms. He imme- 
diately revenged her death, and slew the mur- 
derer. The inconsolable Adam Fleeming, now 
sinking under the pressure of grief, went abroad 
and served under the banners of Spain, against 
the infidels. The impression, however, was too 
strong to be obliterated. The image of woe 
attended him thither; and the piecing remem- 
brance of the tender scenes that were past, with 
the melancholy reflection, that they could never 
return, harassed his soul, and deprived his mind 
of repose. He soon returned, and stretching him- 
self on her grave, expired, and was buried by her 
side. Upon the tombstone are engraven a sword 
and cross, with * Hie jacet Adam Fleeming.' The 
memory of this is preserved in an old Scots ballad, 
which relates the tragical event, and which is 
said to have been written by Adam Fleeming, 
when in Spain." The following is the modern 
version of this ballad, which is much abridged 
from the old, and which yet retains all the beauty 
and pathos of the original. The opening verse has 
been made use of by Gifford in his poem "To 

" I wish I were where Anna lies ! 

For I am sick of lingering here ; 
And every hour affection cries. 

Come, and partake my narrow bier '"] 

I WISH I were where Helen lies — 
Night and day on me she cries; 
O that I were where Helen lies. 

On fair Kirkconnell )ea. ■ 

Helen feir, beyond compare, 
I'll make a garland of thy hair. 
Shall bind my heart for evermair. 
Until the day I die. 

Cursed he the heart that thought the tliought, 
And cursed the hand that fired the shot. 
When in my arms burd Helen dropt. 
And died for sake o' me. 

think na but my heart was sair 
When my love fell and spak' nae raair : 

1 laid her down wi' meikle care. 

On fair Kirkconnell lea. 

I laid her down, my sword did di-aw. 
Stern was our strife in Kirtle-shaw— 
I hew'd him down in pieces sma'. 
For her that died for me. 

O that I were where Helen lies. 

Night and day on me she cries, 

Out of my bed she bids me rise, 

" come, my love, to me !" 

Helen fair ! O Helen chaste ! 
Were I with thee I would be blest. 
Where thou liest low, and tak'st thy refct 

On fair Ku-kconnell lea. 

1 wish I were where Helen lies. 
Night and day on me she cries ; 
I'm sick of all beneath the skies. 

Since my love died for me. 

[Wii-MAM Anderson, author of "Landscaj* 
Lyrics," &c. This song was vn-itten in 1832, and 
is now for the first time printed here.] 

On yonder sunny brae we met, 

Amid the summer flowers ; 
And never can my heart forget 

The rapture of those hours. 
When she I loved forsook her home 

And there with me did stray ; 
Oh ! much I wish again to roam 

On yonder sunny brae. 


IT^f ^«x of ®lftt28q{. 

Braigkt to my hMft » bllHfttl tj 

Aa« 1 KM tepfy at iMr M*. 

M 7 dMpMk lovt nwwla^ 
I kl■^A kw lv» Mr CMM, Mr ■ 

It Midd M* to MMrriid. 
Vo twMtor MHM ay fljM iten I 

Tko^ (hr mj ftopa ilMMU « 

At yoadw Mnoy bra*. 



I cAKfA rfwp • wtek, iMrfi^ 

WbM I fuc to IM4 M algk^ 
Bat fliai 0^ IkH I *MI, ImK 

T«s Md aoM li It «\v tiM a 

TIM tov li atlMMiiwI— Itr— > 

■ A ^M« ftM k« tawMM CX 


▲ad M>ir karw lit Joy M wkM Mwy «M MWi 
ABd niB dM^ tto MaaoM I wMf IB Mj bMOMi- 

▲ UMMM » ikvMl BB* 1MM Iffl I 4m. 

• ••i 

I Ur Mrf thiak «^ Hm, hMK 

My hMftto BO nj alB, iMrii, 



BBt» ok I It MM Win brak, hah, 



And ntao kM flod BWBj, teaio, 

I mMMl OA iflMt, iMrfo. 

Ob mj tfm and kMrt wad Mdo, 
If I tky trotk niiiTl. laMt. 
Aad tkoa nwt at Mf UdOk 

Vm Miiidi «••• 

CWiuiAK JlaaaaMB, BBlkM of 
tttkm," MBtidkoMtotkolHttkM.] 

I kMiiW Md fMr 0^ My ato, 
Mtar.aBdMOBf ( 

> tBM kad BM polBt, aad tko tltkw 

Wkaa ra plM^ to gft. a^ aqr CkiM aad My MBBk, 
TkoM wM* fitav to ooMo, aad wr )ay to partak*, 

Frioadt bi dooMO I iMd wke ikMi cModid to|rt% 
Thqr Mt owor tko toddy uatU Uwjr war* tai, 
^ Sm IdilBk by BiTMl', fer I'M aaokodr aaa. 


Whan I'd nae need o* iJd, there were plenty tosi 

f The groves may yet be green. 


The valleys still be gay. 

And noo whan I want It, I ne'er get the oifer ; 

And down the sunny glen 

I could greet whan I think hoo my siller decreast. 

The blackbird pour his lay ; 

In the feasting o' those wha came only to feast. 

But Scotia's harp no more 
Swells in the vocal throng', 

The fulsome respec' to my gowd they did gi'e. 

Kor heard the minstrel's voice 

I thought a' the time was intended for me;' 

In rapture and in song : 

But whanever the end o' my money they saw. 

Their friendship, like it, also flicker'd awa'. 

My advice ance was sought for by folks far and 

Sic great wisdom I had ere I tint a' my gear. 

^le Eil^a^^r'^ mik. 

I'm as weel able yet to gi'e counsel that's true. 

But I may jist baud my wheesht, for I'm naebody 

[From Blackwood's Magazine. — Air, "The 


Boatie Eows."] 

Oh ! weel befa' the busy loom 
That plies the hale day lang; 

HameEt Ut tfjie UutU. 

And, clicking briskly, fills the room 

Wi' sic a cheery sang. 
Oh ! weel befa' the eident han' 

[Robert Gilkillan.— Tune, "Hame,.hame, to 
my ain countrie."] 

That deeds us, great and sma'. 
And blessings on the kind gudeman 

That dearly lo'es us a'. 

Thk harp of Scotia dear. 

Our purse is low, our lot is mean. 

That oft in joy was strung; 

But waur it well might be : 

Alas ! 'tis silent now. 

Our house is canty aye and clean. 

And on the willows hung. 

Our hearts frae canker free. 

The balmy breath of mom 

We fash wi' nae ambitious scheme, 

Awakes no more the strain. 

Nor heed affairs o' state ; 

And to the gloamin' gale 

We dinna strive against the stream. 

It kindles not again ' 

Or murmur at our fate. 

The minstrels famed in song. 

Oh ! mickle is the wealth that springs 

Who gave to song its fame— 

Frae industry and peace. 

Ah ! whither have they fled. 

Where nae reproach o' conscience stingp. 

The high of note and name ? 

And a' repinin's eease. 

Alas ! not to the bowers 

The heart will loathe the richest meat, 

Of song, and summer fair. 

If nae kind blessin's sent: 

But in the tuneless grave, 

The coarsest morsel will be sweet 

We mark the mighty there ! 

When kitchen'd wi' content. 

The cloud that gathering comes 

Oh ! wad the Power that rules o'er life 

Across the evening sky. 

Impart some gracious charm. 

Obscures in heavy gloom 

To keep me still a happy wife. 

The fair stars clust'ring high ; 

And shield the house frae harm. 

Bo came the cloud of death, 

Instead of wealth and growing care, 

While yet we thought it day, 

I ask but health and love : 

And in the gloom of night 

Instead of warldly wit and leir» 

Took all our stars away. ^ 

^ Some wisdom from above. 


0«r halrasl ttt cooixt o^ ov bMrt, 
W«11 twy hf tham to do oar part. 

Thu jwl aa hoMrt a 

Ova joothfli' 4a|a at* laag awa', 
Paal and faa* e«r pttai* aa' a', 
▲ad ttaa hat* tagna to Ai* 
Wf |oa aa' nw, nqr d«u1o, Ol 

w qpkkUr flMti away, 
ajTM tba lowm do a' dafligr, 
▲a' aw wan w% aajr doiirtc, O ! 

7or «• b^lh Bi« wMfIa* aaM, 
Toa*r growta' gnj, aa' I aa taalil, 
OooUa* ftMi to wtatw eaaM 

Twa Mon a^ l«M ka% BHT kaad lad. 

Oar •!■»« 9* jegri Ml' wa« wiTva had. 
My aald, aiy hiOdn' dMia. Ot 

BtUl I* ai« my ate dMT iMi, 
My aald. oiy MiMf dwK 01 

5«iBr lot yoa «r ma • 
THaada o* yonta aad rate* an fan*, 
Wha tlM marrtod lUb lM«aa, 
Wl' yoa aa' bm, ny daada, O ! 

WbOat wc twa ayt ^arad ha"* bm. 
Tin oar balmWt bainu wa'Tt nca, 
Wha aoow day wl' divati frtaa 
May aaa oa hap'd, my daaita, O : 

flMt approaching to tha day, 
Whaa thay doan oa baith will lay 
la iha caald grava, my daaile, O • 

^ Whaawamaalthatlinlilhaar. 

May dmIhM all^ haM tta« Mi powar, 
%aa wH Ito la felirtK' ha«Nr 
l»Ji|altoatM>»ilMll<i— KOI 

(Tima, ** I am a maa aanarrtod.**— "Tha M> 
lowteg c umpu a i tloa,'* aaya Bvan, la kto Oommoa* 
pkMa Book, *'waa tka dm af mf paribnaaaiiM, 
aad doaa at aa aarty portad af aiylHb» wInb aiy 
haart gl oaad wMi haaaal warm ttmif§tttf, aaaa 
^a^atad aad aaaanapM wttk Urn mf of a 

paitib aad iOly. bat 1 am ahmya plaamd wHh II, 
m tt Pimlh la aiy adad ttoom happy digpa whaa 

■laaara. Tha aatjuit of It waa a yeai^ gtol, who 
natly damrvad an ttot pmtom Ilava haalowad oa 

bat I awliMiHy thiak m aUB, aawr thai ttoa ipaU to 
kmg ateaa teahaa, aad tha oachaataMal at aa 
aad.'^**TMB baUad,- mya Leekhart, **tho«ch 
' kgr Baraa aa a vary paMfb had tf^ 
m aad thma lam of 
whtoh ha aaad haidly ham kaM ariMaad at ahf 


Aad wMtot tint ftotaa vara 

I'M tern a^teadmam Vol 

Aad amay fttU m hmw. 

Bat witheat aoma battar qaaUltoi 
tta^ aa a torn fcr aw. 

Bat NaDya hMka art blltha aad flwaal, 

Aad what to bmt or a'. 
Bar wp wt a tt e e to ae mp iata^ 


Aad thaa thawli aomathlag te ha> frii 
Qaia oey dnm look waaL 



X gaudy dress and gentle air 

May slightly touch the heart, 
But it's innocence and modesty 
That polishes the dart. 

'Tis this in Nelly pleases me, 
•Tis this enchants my soul; 

For absolutely In my breast 
She reigns without control. 

[Ai>EX. SaiART. — Here first printed.] 

In life's sunny morning, by Esk's winding stream. 
My days glided by like a beautiful dream. 
And free as a bird I would carelessly rove. 
Indulging fond visions of beauty and love. 

Then nature was clad in her richest of green. 
And youth's bounding pulse lent a charm to the 

While each living thing in its joy was a part 
Of the gladness that found a sweet home in my 


By Esk's winding stream, in the pride of the yea''. 
The banks are as green and the waters as clear. 
But nature's soft verdure can never again 
Impart the same feelings that gladdened me then. 

Sweet home of my childhood ! though fer from my 

In fency's fond dreams I am ever with you ; 
And Oh ! your remembrance can only depart 
With the last throb of feeling that gladdens my 


[Written by David Vkdder. Music by Peter 

Oh ! the sunny peaches glow. 

And the grapes in clusters blush , 
And the cooling silver streams 

From their sylvan fountains rush ; 
There is music in the grove, 

And there is fragrance in the gale. 
But there's nought sae dear to me 

As my own Highland' vale. 

Oh ! the queen-like virgin rose. 

Of the dew and sunlight born, 
And the azure violet 

Spread their beauties to the morn ; 
So does the hyacinth. 

And the lily pure and pale. 
But I love the daisy best 

In my own Highland vale. 

Hark ! hark, those thrilling notes ; 

'Tis the nightingale complains ; 
Oh ' the soul of music breathes 

In those more than plaintive strains 
But they're not so dear to me 

As the murmur of the rill, 
A nd the bleating of the lambs 

On my own Highland hill. 

Oh ! the flowerets fair may glow. 

And the juicy fruits may blush. 
And the beauteous birds may sing. 

And the crystal streamlets rush. 
And the verdant meads may smile. 

And the cloudless sun may beam ; 
But there's nought beneath the skies. 

Like my own Highland hame ! 

[Thomas C. Latto. — Here first printed* — Tune, 
" The Flower o' Dunblane."] 

HARK to the strain that sae sweetly is ringin'. 

And echoing clearly o'er lake and o'er lea. 
Like some fairy bird in the wilderness singin'. 

It thrills to my heart, yet nae minstrel I see. 
Round yonder rock knittin', a dear child is sittin', 

Sae toilin' her pitifu' pittance is won, 
Hersel' tho' we see nae, 'tis mitherless Jeanie, — 

The bonnie blind lassie that sits i' the sun. 

Five years syne come autumn she cam' wi' her 
A sodger's puir widow, sair wasted an' gane ; 
As brown fell the leaves, sae wi' them did she 
wither, [lane. 

And left the sweet child on the wide world her 
She left Jeanie weepln', in His holy keepin' 
Wha shelters the lamb frae the cauld wintrj' 
We had little siller, yet a' were good till her. 
The bonnie blind lassie that sits i' the sun. 

An* blxth* BOW M' 


; ftM MMlB' to^Ohl 9m llw *affm to w Mm ft**, Ito 

To •• Um fbUM rorai, «k* ww ImiI* to d«r. 
Bra«r MdtM ouva lMr,«r bowitfH wmM pnv 

Tte modMl Mt tefUB* tiMir m«Im WMdd 


Tte tanit Uiad iMila ihM iUi r Um an. 


I wATnr* «lw MOM Ukdl Mm « 

Oh* te tiM tlMrn tow t h< Mr, tl» 

TIN flMM «r low Ibww hMaVy aHBlk B 

Tht ftoir o^ywlli iMB^i M tar «hM 
▲ad lew «M Wwla* la bar 0^ , 

And Qiyate plum* aft kM»«w|.w* 
Aroaad wal Um ttooni tow^ 
Oh i tor tho tharm I 

Tht flano o* low hmw boaal^ « 

And Mil and awow tho bwn dU il^, 
Whta trottin' bj tha thaam tow. 

I kaa o* luuifht da Joya eaagraaslowaBwUi tha 

WawatI Hhattoh^a 

WV law aawUi tha thom tow! 
ffcrthatheratow th a ftaJt. tha aflk-whtoa 
thonitna)— (tha thorn tiw i 

or ar Um jaya thawn MM la wa Uha low aaaaih 

[FaaH "IteLadjartha Laha.- bf StaW. flevrr.] 
t! th7« 

m, laal! thy warftsa ow. 

a or flfhlto« IMte M otaw I 
■hip tha alaap that kaoara aoft bwaMai, 

Tnonp Bar pftaoah a 

a haw. 


At ttoa 4ny lawli, ftaw tha toflear, 
Aad tha bHMm aawid hto dwB^ 


iMawtaM ROW tM aaMy ahaUow* 
Badar aaaada riMH BBM ha aaw^ 
OaaaAi aar WHdaw ahaOaa^i haw I 
Haart M a w M id^ ait gh aad ahaw Hm . 
■hiiBlli rtBa» ar nwiiwa toaBjIat 


Huntsman, rest ! thy chase Is done ; < 

^ The boatie rows, the boatie rows. 

While our slumb'rous spells assail ye, 1 

The boatie rows indeed ; 

Uream not, with the rising sun, 

And happy be the lot of a' 


Bugles here shall sound reveillie. 

That wishes her to speed * 

Bleep !— the deer is in his den ; 

Sleep !— thy hounds are by thee lying . 

I cuist my line in Largo Bay, 

Sleep !— nor dream in yonder glen 

And fishes I caught nine ; 

How thy gallant steed lay dying. 

There's three to boil, and three to fry. 

Huntsman, rest ! thy chase is done ; 

And three to bait the line. 

Think not of the rising sun ; 

The boatie rows, the boatie rows. 

For at dawning to assail ye. 

The boatie rows indeed ; 

Here no bugles sound reveilUe. 

And happy be the lot of a' 
That wishes her to speed » 

weel may the boatie row. 
That fills a heavy creel. 

'^f])^ ^©atk M©fe^. 

And cleads us a' frae head to feet. 
And buys our parritch meal. 

The boatie rows, the boatie rows, 
The boatie rows indeed ; 

[This song appears in Johnson's Museum with 

And happy be the lot of a' 

three different sets of music, but it is satisfactory 

That wish the boatie speed. 

tx> know that the air now universally adopted is 

the genuine old one, It was arranged into a glee 

When Jamie vow'd he would be mine. 

by William Knyvett of London. Burns says. 

And wan frae me my heart. 

•' The author of the song beginning * weel may 

muckle lighter grew my creel ! 

the boatie row' was a Mr. Ewen of Aberdeen. 

He swore we'd never part. 

It is a charming display of womanly affection 

The boatie rows, the boatie rows. 

mingling with the concerns and occupations of life. 

The boatie rows fa' weel ; 

It is nearly equal to ' There's nae luck about the 

And muckle lighter is the lade. 

house.' " The Mr. Ewen here spoken of was J ohn 

When love bears up the creel. 

Ewen, Esq., who died at Aberdeen on the 21st 

October, 1821, in the 80th year of his age. He was 

My kurtch I put upon my head. 

a native of Montrose, but went early in life to 

And dress'd mysel' fu' braw : 

Aberdeen, where he accumulated a fortune, partly 

I trow my heart was dowf and wae, 

as a dealer in hardware goods and partly by mar- 

When Jamie gaed awa: 

riage. On his death, he bequeathed tVie bulk of 

But weel may the boatie row. 

his property (something above Z,.15,000) towards 

And lucky be her part ; 

the founding of an Hospital at Montrose, similar 

And lightsome be the lassie's care 

to Gordon's Hospital of Aberdeen, for the main- 

That yields an honest heart ! 

tenance and education of boys, overlooking en- 

tirely his only child, a daughter, who had married 

When Sawnie, Jock, and Janetie, 

in 1787, and gone abioad. The will was challenged 

Are up, and gotten lear. 

by his daughter, and finally set aside by the House 

They'll help to gar the boatie row. 

of Lords, in consequence of its uncertainty and 

And lighten a' our care. 

want of precision both as to the sum to be 

The boatie rows, the boatie rows. 

accumulated by the trustees before they were to 

The boatie rows fu* weel ; 

commence building the hospital, and as to the 

And lightsome be her heart that bears 

umuber of boys to be educated in it when built.] 

The murlain and tlie creel ! 

ivKKL may the boatie row, 

And when wi' age we are worn down, 

And better may she speed ' 

And hirpling round the door. 

And weel may tiie boatie row. 

They'll row to keep us hale and wanr 

That wins the bairns's bread ! t 

|A As we did them before : 



Aad iHVPr to tiM M «r A* 
Iteft wM «b« boa to «Hd I 

riAMB If . 

Tkc flkOHaff taM^Mt awMpi llM III 


TlM 4v» Wl> ■wtaf hi taMtf UMd. 

Lad rfMpkHd lads « 

■ •vMtafMai 


▲b4 jotai ov iwnMfej, 

Vow b«r « haad, toy VMny 

TteliOT liM iw K iyb 


njtK blTtli*, an* hapfigr at* ««, 

QuUd cu« to OatiM avrm't 
Thb to bat M night o* oar llvw. 

Tto ai^ls bowl «■ lA tlM tuol 
Abooa th» wortd aatf «• Ito «■ 

Umb toOTi yoto glM to av vtiwt iMw 

▲•> lMto% to !«. HT M«4 ■» f^to. 

Ab* AaaM «» i^to, M^ barbnr apltob 

Bat to a bawl bat ^■■■^f aniwa^B* 

Tht Mnito tonvAi' yat w«r«a HMi 
Wbgr ihaiM «• paH. «toMi teBi aiai haart 

(WBtma ty BosM to 0M. aai to laaoaiy. 

liwaaiwtoaaiatto mJmIm townii tattrnm- 
a I II tot Th» Mtowl^ to aa aillbg iM— t, aa4 
irainiiwWi toaaw^i bat will to a P aaii. I 
thtok, to to twa ar ttoMa paM^ gtuA 9mm 

-' - ■todtotollVM.'n 

That bai«i hto toad, and a* that y 
fto cowatd^lafa, wa pMi htm \ifi 

twa. ^ Wadaaatopolr^kra'ibai, 


For a' that, and a* that, ^ For a' that, and a' that. 

Our toils obscure, and a' that, 

An' twice as muckle's a' that ; 

The rank is but the guinea-stamp— 

I've lost but ane, I've twa behin'. 

The man's the gowd, for a" that. 

I've wife enough, for a' that. 

What though on hamely fare we dine. 

I never drank the Muses' stank. 

Wear hoddin-grey, and a' that ? 

Castalia's bum, and a' that ; 

Gi'e fools their silks, and knaves their wine; 

But there it streams, and richly reams. 

A man's a man, for a' that; 

My Helicon I ca' that. 

For a' that, and a' that. 

For a' that, &c. 

Their tinsel show, and a' that. 

The honest man, though e'er sae puir. 

Great love I bear to a' the fah-, 

la king o' men, for a* that. 

Their humble slave, an' a' that; 
But lordly Will, I hold it still 

Ye see yon birkie, ca'd a lord. 

A mortal sin to thraw that. 

Wha struts, and stares, and a' that; 

For a' that, &c. 

Though hundreds worship at his word. 

He's but a cuif, for a' that. 

In raptures sweet, this hour we meet, 

For a' that, and a' that. 

Wi' mutual love, and a' that: 

His ribbon, star, and a' that. 

But for how lang the flee may stang. 

The man of independent mind. 

Let inclination law that. 

He looks and laughs at a' that. 

For a' that, &e. 

A king can make a belted knight. 

Their tricks and craft ha'e put me daft. 

A marquis, duke, and a* that; 

They've ta'en me in, and a' that ; 

But an honest man's aboon his might. 

But clear your decks, and here's The sex ! 


Gude faith, he maunna fa' that ! 

I like the jads for a' that. 

For a' that, and a' that. 

For a' that, and a' that. 

Their dignities, and a' that, 

An' twice as muckle's a' that ; 

The pith o' sense, the pride o' worth, 

My dearest bluid, to do them guid. 

Are higher ranks than a' that. 

They're welcome till't for a' that. 

Then let us pray, that come it may. 

As come it wUl, for a' that. 
That sense and worth, o'er a' the earth. 

^mue 2^nx §\Wit% 

May bear the gree, and a' that. 

[Written by the Rev. John Skinner, author 

For a' that, and a' that. 

of " Tullochgorum," &c., to suit an air composed 

It's comin' yet, for a' that. 

by William Marshall, butler to the duke of Gor- 

That man to man, the warld o'er. 

don, and called "The Marquis of Huntly's Reel.' 

Shall brothers be, for a' that. 

Marshall was a distinguished composer of Scot- 
tish airs and melodies, and also eminent as a 
player on the violin. A collection of his tunes. 

§nx a* tfeat* 

consisting of 176, was published in 1822, which 

was followed by a supplement containing 74 addi- 

[This is the bard or fiddler's song In Burns's 
Jolly Beggars. It is sung to the same tune as 
the foregoing. Part of it appears in the 3d vol. of 
Johnson's Museum. The first two lines in the 

tional tunes. Every one is familiar with his " Miss 
Admiral Gordon's Strathspey," to which Burns's 
" Of a' the airts the wind can blaw" is sung. 
Marshall was a native of Fochabers, and died so 

chorus belong to an old song.] 

recently as 1833, aged 85.] 

I AM a bard of no regard 

Tune your fiddles, tune them sweetly. 

Wi' gentle folks, an' a' that: 

Play the marquis' reel discreetly. 

But Homer-like, the glowran byke. 

Here we are a band completely 

Frae town to town I draw tliat. < 

^ Fitted to be jolly. 


flOOTTlBH tOjrOfl^ 

Ohm, ay tafi, Mjnks Mi 

Emyjiiiiiprtii itmibli 
Smm «r Mb and k* Mt ■ 

Now^ tbt MMM to b« nMny, 

^Vfl^l WWl OBT BMM B 

La^ !■ hmMk ni >— ». 
yiuHii,too»— rpwHyJBiJMi^fca. 

¥e goDjL 

[T— ifl—ilBdwtwt « 

hi tfca Oi|t !■ Chliiialii (mm. UvmwtM 
lylka aaMBRpBAii Wnxum B*am.Ta«> of a 
•iv. aa lMHli«*Bia|«awMf«rMrthi 

■ a (aiil vaa BlMplMi^ plMaM UhI 
WMi *a lilr kwiw af GMoam INMI » 

I Mw *M Mgteirt ar*y MM. 

8taa«r* Uka tha Mr ar Ttay, 

FMllM fMBl khB aMqr MmN 
WH and am^lk. airf riat an 

Patt «r 4a|a Md Ml ar ghay I 
To Um gnHM^ «rk«i old aad haaiy, 

Emaom SHif ka ha la ttatj, tm. 

Aad aaflly tan tear dav lloM. 
lis iiiiliiiiiiBiwiia 

W to • Mli» toe, Mr «l«i 
Aa atoB to Imp a fod altva. 


'Tis true thy charms, powerful maid, 4 

? Johnny Smith has got a wife 

To life can bring the silent shade : 

"VVha scrimps him o' his cogie ; 

Thou canst surpass the painter's art. 

But were she mine, upon my life. 

And real warmth and flames impart. 

I'd dock her in a bogie. 

But oh ! it ne'er can love like me. 

For I maun ha'e my cogie, sirs. 

I've ever lov'd, and lov'd but thee: 

I canna want my cogie ; 

Then, charmer, grant my fond request, 

I wadna gi'e my three-gir'd cog 

Bay thou canst love, and make me blest. 

For a' the wives in Bogie. 

Twa three todlin' weans they ha'e. 
The pride o' a' Stra'bogie ; 

€mU %uil iu nn^un. 

Whene'er the totums cry for meat. 
She curses aye his cogie; 

[Thk popular tune of " Cauld Kail in Aber- 

Crying, Wae betide the three-gir'd cog! 

Oh, wae betide the cogie ! 
It does mair skaith than a' the ills 

deen" is not very old — at least it cannot be traced 

in any of the older musical collections. The fol- 
lowng are the earliest words to the tune, and are 

That happen in Stra'bogie. 

given in Herd's Collection of 1776. Perhaps the 

She fand him ance at Willie Sharp's ; 

reader may detect in them the meaning of the 

And, what the maist did laugh at. 
She brak the bicker, spilt the drink. 

now proverbial phrase, " Cauld kail in Aberdeen, 

and custocks in Strathbogie." 

And tightly goufPd his haffet. 

Cauld kail in Aberdeen, 

Crying, Wae betide the three-gir'd cog- 

And custocks in Strathbogie, 

Oh, wae betide the cogie. 

But yet 1 fear they'll cook o'er soon. 

It does mair skaith than a' the ills 

And never warm the cogie. 

That happen in Stra'bogie. 

The lasses about Bogie gicht. 

Their limbs they are sae clean and tight. 

Yet here's to ilka honest soul 

That if they were but girded right. 

Wha'll drink wi' me a cogie; 

They'll dance the reel o' Bogie. 

And for ilk silly whinging fool. 

"Wow, Aberdeen, what did you mean, 
Sae young a maid to woo, sir ? 

I'm sure it was nae joke to her, 
Whate'er it was to you, sir. 

For lasses now are no sae blate 

We'll dook him in a bogie. 

For I maun ha'e my cogie, sirs, 
I canna want my cogie: 

I wadna gi'e my three-gir'd cog 
For a the queans in Bogie. 

But they ken auld folk's out o' date. 

And better playfare can they get 

Than custocks in Strathbogie. 

€mU ^aO iu ^huhuu. 

The " Bogie," here and elsewhere celebrated, is a 

stream in Aberdeenshire, which runs through the 

[This counter strain to the convivial song of the 

beautiful strath or valley called Strathbogie. It 

same name was written by Alexander fourth 

is not known who was the author of the following 

Duke of Gordo:* (bom in 1743; died in 1827,) 

convivial song, but it is alluded to by Bums as an 

and inserted in the second volume of Johnson's 

old song.] 


There's cauld kail in Aberdeen, 

There's cauld kail in Aberdeen, 

And custocks in Stra'bogie, 

And custocks in Stra'bogie, 

Where ilka lad maun ha'e his lass. 

Gin I ha'e but a bonnie lass. 

But I maun ha'e my cogie. 

Ye're welcome to your bogle. 

For I maun ha'e my cogie. Sirs, 

And ye may sit up a' the night, 

I canna want my co:;ie ; 

And drink till it be braid day-light-. 

I wadna gi'e my three-gir'd cog 

Gi'e me a lass baith clean and tight, 

For a' the wives in Bojrie. s" 

■f To dance the reel o' Bogie. 


lamTim^mmd, A W — w i Hy wy tl^ I f^ 

Th« WyiBlifii 4— » li ii liwp i 


Walt «Mk a HifUMMM ragitt 
111 tkk* this iMrtt to ovmT. 

SIM iDokS MM hMB BDtf fOgto I 

Vow, piptr lai, baaf mp th* tpriaf ; 
TIh «Mnrti7 IMMm li tka tMi«, 
To pfte tMr ««i% «n «• tagfei 
To 4mm Ik* SMi ar Bvgla. 

VowllkB lid teM fOt A hM, 

8m« fM MM doltod kgh, 
▲ad ta^a a tkmt apM tte fma, 

At tiMy do la SMi'bapot 
Bat a' tlM iMiH look MB Ida, 
W« eaoM iMakOMMTi to kalii. 
For tfciy toaaa fcaM Ifciii ■■■■ iila 


Vow a* Ika ladi !»<» dM» «talr tal. 

LOm trw MM «^ flM'tailt I 
W«ll atop • wkOa Mt tok* a Ml, 


la wliiilagktoUktoon 

Ti Amm Ika Mil o^ 1 

0atini Bail im Mntt m. 

[TTatmDr tgr Wnxtaa BHa* koahata 


Tamo's moM kaO la Akiidwa, 

▲adhaaaodtotai ■ 


^Toaa, " Gk^MI ki AktodoM.-) 



IM prtd> la tmtmm f liiM lH i ^, 

•m MV«r« «^>. MM Milit 
TW MPM of wM. Ik* «rii« oTJir, 

Wka knodi o^ a* tkart feci* t 
WkMcW I'M kHkt wl* wotkUy M 

I>tar M*«irt wMtfi, wMk kMi«M 0^^ 




It wwMh OBN, M iikto Mfe^ tefkm 
Aad Ml* kka kM Ik* koglib 

Ol^ PkBBM kto woil iV(^ kogto, 
01% toUkM ioka Mi kn*k*M too, 

b d*l* afiMO ov ataidy *^ 

Ufm Ikrir kak MO ■vofl*. 

Otowtl wMk ira* ft«odoM<* wan 


Then, revere the cogie, sirs, ^ When I've a bawbee in my pouch. 

Our brave forefathers' cogie ; 

I aften birl it frank and free , 

It rous'd them up to douglity deeds. 

To care, the carline, I ne'er crouch— 

O'er which we'U lang be vogie. 

The life o' man is barley bree! 

Then here's may Scotland ne'er fa' down. 

A cringing coward dogie, 

But bauldly stand, and bang the loon, 
Wha'd reave her of her cogie. 

%iU B^t tja^ Um. 

Then, protect the cogie, sirs, 

Our good auld raither's cogie ; 

[Tune, " Cauld kail in Aberdeen."] 

For let her luggie e'er be drain'd 

By ony foreign rogie. 

Life aye has been a weary roun' 
Whare expectation's bluntet, 

Whare hope gets mony a crackit crown, 
An' patience, sairly duntet, 

%2i 'Eu^u^ %m%. 

Alang the road rins hirplin' down 

Beside neglectit merit, 
Whase heart gi'es mony a weary stoun'. 

[Written by Captain Charles Gray, of the 

And broken is his spirit. 

Royal Marines. Tune, " WiUie brew'd a peels o' 


But de'il me care though fate whiles glooms, 
Gae, lassie, heat the water : 

Lkt topers sing in praise of wine. 

Wi' fate we'll never fash our thumbs. 

Their midnicht balls, their mirth and glee; 

But gar the gill-stoup clatter. 

Auld Scotland's sons may fidge fu* fain 

Punch is a sea whare care ne'er sooms. 

While they ha'e routh o' barley-bree. 

But pleasure rides it rarely , 

The workman, wha has toiled a' day. 

We'll fill again whan this ane tooins. 

Sits down at nicht frae labour free; 

Then let us set till't fairly. 

Bee, care is fled ! his smile how gay. 

When owre a stoup o' barley-bree. 

Gif onie man, in barlikhood. 
Should wi' his neebor disagree. 

^%PaE^ mw^* 

Let them baith gang in social mood. 

And settle't owre the barley bree : 

[Duncan Campbell.] 

For barley drink, wad they but think. 

Is cheaper than a lawyer's fee ;— 

Tk social sons of Caledon, 

Though sairly vex'd, aye mind the text- 

Wha like to rant and roar, sirs. 

Its best to " tak' a pint and gree." 

Wha like to drink and laugh and sing. 
And join a pot encore, sirs. 

Ken ye the witty Willie Clark? 

Attentive listen to my lay. 

A learned man, I trow, is he ; 

'Twill make ye blythe and frisky 

And nocht to him is deep or dark. 

When I relate, without delay. 

When seated by the barley-bree. 

The praise of Highland whisky. 

He tells a tale— he sings a sang— 

While fast the merry moments flee ; 

Aboon a' drink it bears the gree. 

A winter nicht, though ne'er sae lang. 

It's a drink that never fails man, 

Seems short when " WilUe's wig's a-jce !" 

Auld fools may drink their trash of tea, 
And ither folks their ales, man ; 

French brandy is but trash— shame fk't! 

To a Scotchman gi'e him barley bree. 

Jamaica rum 1 downa pree ; 

If you would make him frisky. 

Gi'e me the pith o' Scottish maut. 

And then he'll swear nocht will him fear. 

Aboon them baith it bears the giee. \ 

\^ For sic'B the power of whisky. 


WV hnatdtf, or wl' fcnIfB 

H« woqM BOt «M U* oidflt. 

«lM A gto t, m' J9 y ia •^ —it, —» i 


TlMB All M «p aaotiHT flBM, 

Bat wiilto w« luiit • paaagr Ml 

Thmi, O, nf«r 

H«tfV«nftvli« wiydMf , 
Cttiw •■ jo«r fenlpi la*, av I, 

0»» — looi HIilHMii Blirtif. 

j^atflnell to SB^iAes. 

iht Mthar of tlw wvrte. ««« «m koni la 
Mfmthb«Mi4,lB PwtlMblf*. te UV, Mi 4M at 
lB«tr. MV DuMd, IB Mr.] 


▲ai dMttj toW tki 
H« dwty WM Um AIM 
▲ad wa« WM b*, j(«a BMf 


And Oad aqr Ma* grow aaw «aaM t 
I thlak t««d nalH MM MjrtfM aad taM. 

▲ WM taip Hllhlrad wkWMy, O. 
TH th« tfoetan ilMj 4o a* h>«*i 
That whWKyli ao lb« Mak kr bm. 
aaalt q«o«k KcO, tiHU ipofl ai/ gto», 

OMmld tlMgr pact BM and whtalwj, a 

Tboogk I flaa baHh ftt wtaM aad ak^ 
Aad tad ngr bMd aad ti«m iMit, 
in ba «DB«nt, llm«k liVi AoaM ftO, 

T» pkV IvKaMi 10 wUUtaT, a 
Bat 1101 1 fMak OB aaU 1M« ^fBib 
vriNa PHBdhi oar fHMdi did t^Mt 
BiraiBi ■nmithlni nm ta Itirirmlnil, 

~ «y.o. 

' I lad av Wart iMwo aaoa fliMi. 
Myliilli HtlBpwM — pl^baM, 

To aif^ f kw aoil io vMAqr* 0> 
Tot rn lako af ida> la ay haad. 

Rp in tt)t air. 

CT— MBiliki— thby AujiwlAmtT. It 
wn bo fOMiokONd that Um bartkoB of iko am 



Aad I Mt h» lot, aai 1 MO kor lor— 

b pal lalo tho BMBth «f poor Haiti WBdAia. ai 

- allaklolabor'*Tkoli«vt 

Boor tko •BB'O aaao oat o' rffkt, 
BMt tko li«b, a»l waff tlH Ifhti 
la^itkoMtf tUpaaddaaoob 

Aad I «o kor lot, aad I ON kM lot. 



Dy OM, d>o HO, d>t MO kka pH. 

Vp la Iko air. 
It d i lioi a«m car*, 
Ba^«ry«.ka»«r1>|«. aad ka'o«l*|o.kHAa,|ot. 

BiMk Iko dOMO, koop oat tko A«««, 
OoBM, Win, f^Haboat |0^ toart, 
ABd lot ai kB<0 a Mitteaao bowt. 


Up wi't, there, there, * ^ 

' Yet hope's cheerfu' sun shall aboon my head hover, 

I)inna cheat, but drink fiiir. 

An' guide a lone wanderer when far, far frae 

Huzza, huzza, and huzza lads, yet. 

thee ; 

Up wi't, &c. 

For ne'er till it sets will I prove a false lover. 
Or think o' anither, dear lassie, but thoe. 

For ! thou art bonnie, &c. 

HEilt ftoniL le mg ^cane* 

[Written by Burns, to the tune of " The 

Sutor's Dochter," in honour of Miss Janet Miller, 
of Daiswinton.] 

l.^.c5=1Eict©^| ftlBe. 

Wilt thou be my dearie ? 

[The tune called "Loch-Erroch Side" is altered 

When sorrow wrings thy gentle heart. 

from an older air called " I'm ower young to 

Wilt thou let me cheer thee? 

man-y yet," (see p. 123.) Loch-Erroch or Ericht 

Hy the treasures of my soul. 

is a large lake in Perthshire. The words of the pre- 

That's the love 1 bear thee ! 

sent song are ssiid to be by James, author 

I swear and vow that only thou 

of " The bonnie bracket Uissie," &c. Tytler was 

Shall ever be my dearie. 

the son of a clergyman at Brechin, and though 

Only thou, I swear and vow. 

educated first for the church, and afterwards for 

Shall ever be my dearie. 

the medical profession, he was mainly employed 
through life in literarj' and chemical speculations. 

Lassie, say thou lo'ea me, 

He died in Massachusetts, North America, in 1805, 

Or if thou wilt not be my ain, 

aged 58. He was commonly called Balloon Tytler, 

Say na thou'lt refuse me : 

from having been the first in Scotland who ascended 

If it winna, canna be. 

iu a fire balloon upon the plan of Montgolfier.] 

Thou for thine may choose me. 

Let me, lassie, quickly die. 

As I cam* by Loch-Erroch side. 

Trusting that thou lo'es me. 

The loity hills surveying, 

Lassie, let me quickly die. 

The water clear, the heather blooms. 

Trusting that thou lo'ea me. 

Their fragrance sweet conveying , 
I met, unsought, my lovely maid. 

I found her like May morning ; 
With graces sweet, and charms so rare. 

#, mg hh2'$ Imnk. 

Her person all adorning. 
How kind her looks, how blest was I, 

! MY love's bonnie, bonnie, bonnie. 

While in my arms I prest her ! 

! my love's bonnie and dear to me ; 

And she her wishes scarce conceal 'd. 

The smile o' her fiice, and her e'e's witchin' grace. 

As fondly I caress'd her : 

Are mair tlian the wealth o' this warld can gi'e. 

She said. If that your heart be trae. 

Her voice is as sweet as the blackbird at gloamin". 

If constantly you'll love n.e, 

When echo repeats her solt notes to the ear. 

1 heed not care nor fortune's frowns, 

For nought but death shall move me. 

Tluit dip in the stream o' the Carron sae clear. 

! my love's bonuie, &c. 

But faithful, loving, trae, and kind. 
For ever thou shalt find me; 

Hut poortith's a foe to the peace o' this bosom. 

And of our meeting here so sweet. 

That g'.ows sae devoutly, dear lassie, for thee ; 

Loch-Erroch sweet shall mind me. 

Alas! that e'er poortith should blight love's young 

Enraptured then. My lovely lass. 


I cried, no more we'll tarry • 

V»hen riches nae lasting contentment can gi'e. 

[ We'll leave the fair Loch- Erroch side^ 

For ! my love's bonnie, &c. < 

ft For lovers soon should maiTy, 




Mf^ «^M ^ ■>■• "i"^ i^* ■■■• w iv»v^nB (BBaa^ 

or ** LodHBRMii Sid*.- U b M maif prodM. 

Tovito FcnyMoi 

Hw biMh !• lite tiM noratef. 

Bm mfm oatihtor tlw n 

Th^t gUd tht mint tttamm, 


▲ ftahOT 4|» IM gnc^d tibm t • 

▲od iw wH y lampt lo • 
BOTnUbKr ' 

Whra ftetlMrM tm« af eoorttng, 
Aad llttl* lunbUM wmMm wIM, 

Wtm Portam kwvly Ttnt* IK 

Ov dMMka Mm* tfw iMrtiy teMk 

PW' coMk Ml* WM» dMwte. 
Birt wkm ID MMkaaTk Mtitt «v «ad. 
As- MM liM««ili Bib MM teM«r dM, 
U Mm4*lp% glMT, m ttea •• tel. 

Aod nite^ MmI Mwn iwui' cw Utl, 

OTMrtr. ««i«i WiMr. 

r wtealf pumn » 

And tpMiAd Rb«7 frtot la •sta, 
Tht polHa^d lootk to Ifciim 

T« Pu ww i «rBaM«r. Um, and TinMli, 
rnm cwfy in dHted Iwri 


• VMMCa 


• te «a«i ftoaMBi 
And td«a tht dnr pnmHnl aa 

'^it ©ogie. 

ri>Ainas. MTbao, («• p. 1M.>— T^um, ** 
Ef roeh aida.-] 

Lar baidlM tana Um numi Mnh 

And ifaif tha l0««i o" ajrmph or 

Ormoarv tka haplM lofarM pat 

TlMfb dlilMad kgr kh dMria. 

Wte^iMbaaaakapplai daiaka^aHu, 
Wa halHi an hopa anr Hn«.«a hM, 
And «a» " anMter angla.* 

Aw Ijfnit avH «l* jagdav ^af^i 


An' tearti an* lMw% In ttondUup twina, 


®, are je jilcrping, ^Bggit, 

[Boaaar TAWAaitk^Alr, "flbapy Mi^gla.*'} 

O, Aaa y daapfaa', MaoW ^ 

O. ai« |« ilatfdn*. lia«|la? 
Lrt ma In, ftir kwd Um linn 

la raaitn* aw tba nariaak «n%l» I 


Mirk and rainy is the night ; ^ To sleep I try, but no ae wink ; 

No a starn in a' tlie carie ; 

(Frae hapless luve, may fate aye screen us. 

Lightnings gleam athwart the lift. 

I sprawl an' fidget, whan 1 think 

And winds drive on wi' winter's fury. 

There's nought but a wee loan atween ua. 
dearest, &c. 

Fearfu' soughs the boor-tree bank ; 

The rifted wood roars wild and drearie ; 

Langsyne Leander ilka night 

Loud the iron yett does clank; 

Swam o'er the sea at Hero's biddin'; 

And cry o' howlets mala me eerie. 

But if my Kate wad me invite, 

I've nought ado but jump the midden. 

A boon my breath I daurna speak. 

dearest, &c. 

For fear I raise your waulu'ife daddy ; 

Cauld's tlie blast upon my cheek; 

rise, rise, my bonnie lady ! 

She oped the door; she let him in ; 

'EfjH H ti^ m%ix. 

He cuist aside his dreepin' plaidie ; 

Blaw your warst, ye wind and rain. 

[Air, "Low down he's in the broom."] 

Since, Maggie, now I'm in beside ye ! 

This is the night my Johnny set. 

Now, since ye're waukin', Maggie, 

And promised to be here ; 

Now, since ye're waukin', Maggie, 

0, what can stay his longing step 

What care I for howlet's cry. 

He's fickle grown, 1 fear. 

For boor-tree bank and warlock craigie? 

Wae worth this wheel ! 'twill no riu ix)ua', 

Nae mair tliis night I'll spin : 
But count each minute wi' a sigh. 

Till Johnny he steal in. 

i^HB^^^mf 'Mutu. 

How snug that canty fire it burns. 

For twa to sit beside ; 
And there fu' oft my Johnny sat. 

[Buchanan.— Tune. "Sleepy Maggie."] 

And I my blushes hid. 
My father how ho snugly snores. 

Now winter comes, wi' breath sae sneil. 

My mother's fast asleep ; 

And nips wi' frost the gizen'd gowan. 

He promised oft, but, oh ! I fear. 

Yet frosty winter, strange to tell ! 

His word he will not keep. 

Has set my thrawart heart a-lowin'. 

What can it be keeps him fi-ae me ? 

dearest, charming Katie ! 

The road it's no sae lang ; 

sweetest, winsome Katie ! 

And frost and snaw is nought ava. 

My heart has flown across the loan. 

If fo'k were fain to gang. 

To dwell wi' my sweet neibor Katie. 

Some ither lass wi* bonnier face. 
Has caught his wandering e'e; 

When a' the chiels, wi' noses blae. 

Than thole their jeers at kirk an' lair. 

Creep chitt'rin' roun' the cantie ingle. 

Oh! sooner let me dee. 

Through sleet an* snaw to Kate I gae, 

Drawn wi' a whang o' Cupid's lingle. 

1 if we lasses could but gang 

dearest, &c. 

And woo the lads we like, 
I'd run to thee, my Johnny dear. 

When our back door I gang to steek. 

Ne'er stop at bog or dyke ; 

And bonnie Kate, frae her back win nock. 

But custom's such a powerfu' thing. 

Gi'ea a bit slee an' smilin' keek. 

Men aye their will maun ha'e. 

It warms me like a toasted bannock. 

While mony a bonnie lassie site. 

dearest, &c. ^ 

^ And naourns from day to daj. 



But wkMiM! X Ww aqr Jeluurk ftieet 

TteMJMktownyctati Or ttvmmitk* mm/If fan P 

B«aMlMtlMll*-9M«lU]r«e»- { Ilo««ilMVtOkl«MMM(lMM» 

OhM«llMl«alljdi«! I Tk»iikttmm9twmrhmt%, 

▲adktaMSOtaiHri Binlniifc>dbwM>>»i— , 

O.baithiiwartd'feftPBmdlM. » a|wW»»y i— • M Wt^ 

^i)f rojsr an^ irt mc iru 

(Twi aid wiWar « a* f«M m4 M M la- WM 
wifttMi bj raA»c« flaaivu, b*. «r WiHw. la 
Bratowikiro, hM to loo tmliUMiN feradMMoii. 
■«Dpl» ll«id aknrt llM Mlddli afite Mvwtaatk 
A — —il|il folino of kH niiin h 
» ha«* bMB hi tk» poMiriw oTa My la 

Ko«. kapfor la av M^ W«^ 
Til uml i g tiaiyiiyi 

Vo gMMr MMlat «a i PM«% 

taoaitlyalltfBncrikliaowkM. ■iniaa 
•* Thiaaoaf («h« prcnal} baa AyMik H^«rgi 

a.** BattlMivvanakappaaatokalhaaaM^ 

ftir H b a Sooiak aaac aad tea ka« Ai^Mai ^ 

aralaka feaad, wtlklka aiMla, te n^tmtTt 
Obolaa AyvM aaa aaapRt** VU^i alw f aMMat 
Iba maale) la BaaH^ IW-TMIa mmliiajy 
Hafdii OoOactiaa, Jbaw Wka« n^ ka aalai Iha 

Tntrm la lkla%lay <Mrt Ban— j tm Hia aalkaf nf 
Ihlaiwiloa >i ■ ■aii il i m ha nf tg l Ba l aiaaia 

Taa algkt iMT MMa avada «a« 
Aad sloaaqr «a«a Iha Mmi 

or gUtrrti« ataff* appMT^ aa a 
Thaa theaa la HaQTiayaB. 

I batfJ mr fclr,my la w l y i l aa w, 

Bat riia wHk aaaaalB aB 4lflaah 
DM aiy fead aalt lapaaaai 

▲ad whila alM aU4 aiy fMfc daa^a, 
«ka bat laftuaad aiy lorn 

liar aaaatf «A had ptaand bataa^ 

^ aha tB i f awy aaaL 

V^ ttt stnt alDE*. 

iFawt— ■au^iiiiiiiji la UH 
aad JahaaaaM Maaaaai Taaa, ** Uaad awa* ttaa 

fVoa aft pMM aaa* feaa aM, Mary ; 
Bar Maada aaa I aaaM aMha thaa ahty 


lihaadni Mar wyhtt, 
TMak what y«i «• «r Mw llaq^ 

That alala Iha hawt ar IhhM. Mary, 
*nw laaa, I'ai aaa, aaa aa^w hh aad. 
Or aat ala liifa as ariaa, Maiy. 

Ba, I laaad aa^ Ihaa^ Maiy. 

T hn ag h | aa*aa haaa tJaa, yat whPa I Braw 
111 la^ aaaaa Od hat Ihaa. Maryi 

lad Maada aa|at( aa I nN|lva, 

Thy ainaga fa Ihaai aad bm, Mary t 
■a Ihaa, fttwaaO I or thh ba aora, 




^ Bairahatl' 

Bair what l*va doaa ftr thaa. Maiy. 


Eft me iu tjfe ae m%f)U ' 

i Out ower the moas, out ower the nmir, 
I came this dark and drearie hour ; 
And here I stand without the door. 

[Tick tune of " let me in this ae night" is to 

Amid the pouring storm, jo. 

be found under different names in some of the 

O, let me in, &c. 

oldest musical collections. The original words of 

tlie song are given in Herd's collection, 1776, but 

Thou hear'st the winter wind and weet; 

w\ can only quote part of them.— 

Nae star blinks through the driving sleet; 

0, lassie, art thou sleeping yef 
Or are you waking 1 would wit: 

Tak' pity on my wearie feet. 
And shield me frae the rain, jo. 

For love has bound me hand and foot. 

0, let me in, &c. 

And I would fain be in, jo. 

O, let me in this ae night. 

This ae, ae, ae night, 
0, let me in this ae night, 

The bitter blast that round me blaws. 
Unheeded howls, unheeded fa's ; 

The cauldness o' thy heart's the cause 

And I'll ne'er come back again, jo. 

O' a' my grief and pain, jo. 
0, let me in, &.c. 

The morn it is the term -day. 

I maun away, I eanna stay. 

O, pity me before 1 gae. 

And rise and let me in, jo. 

0, let me in, &c. 

The night it is haith cauld and weet; 
The morn it will be snaw and sleet. 


My shoon are frozen to my feet. 

Wi' stan.ling on the plain, jo. 

TELL na me of wind and rain. 

0, let me in, &c. 

Upbraid na me wi* cauld disdain ! 

I am the laird o' Windy-wa's, 

Gae back the gate ye cam' again; 

I come na here without a cause. 

1 winna let you in, jo. 

And I ha'e gotten mony fa's 

1 tell you now, this ae night. 

In coming thro' the plain, jo. 

Thisae, ae, ae night; 

O, let me in, &c. 

And, ance for a', this ae night. 

" My father's waking on the street. 

I winna let you in, jo. 

My mither the chamber-keys does keep ; 
My chamber-door does chirp and cheep. 
And I daurna let you in, jo. 

" O, gae your ways this ae night, 

Thi8ae,ae,ae night, 
0, gae your ways this ae night. 

The snellest blast, at mirkest hours, 
That round the pathless wand'rer pours. 

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

For I dauma let you in." 

The sweetest flower that deck'd the mead. 

Here ends the remonstrance of the damsel — and 

Now tix)dden like the vilest weed ; 

here our quotation must stop. The following is 

Let simple maid the lesson read. 

Ddrns's version of the song, which he wrote for 

The weird may be her ain, jo. 

Tliumson's collection.] 

I tell you now, &c. 

0, LASSIE, art thou sleeping yet ? 

The bird that charm 'd this summer day. 

Or art tliou waukin', I would wit ? 

Is now the cruel fowler's prey; 

For love has bound me hand and foot. 

Let witless, trusting woman say, 

And I would fain be in, jo. 

How aft her fate's the same, jo. 

O, let me in this ae night. 

1 tell you now, this ae night. 

Thisae, ae, night; 

This ae, ae, ae night. 

For pity's sake, this ae night. 

And, ance for a', this ae night. 

O, rise and let me in, jo. ^ 

^ J winna let you in, jo. 



^oiclotii, ms lotr. 


(TaBbMMllwrm«lqrBtmMle llw mtcrji 
■* O. M M la IM» M aislU."] 

FlMU4Hur, tB9 lan% a* cotntwt Mar, 

Wu, itf fhNB thM, I wmaOmr htni 

rar. ter fton ihM^ Um ftkti «««• 

At whkh I BMM Rplaa, lof«w 

O wwt Um^ lova» bat aaar awi 


BUB ba iiwait tiM iMtoAi* Iftw. 
" p,OI 

▲' that-* past liipl HiiaK 
" r,OI 


iBwjHi^ HuaianiBnranb i UMf yaar aifvan aa^a aaa 

aili^ritlHwllhariMblaval Tkvoan t w« aaw railpi, 


That biMli aadi b«d or hopa Bad jojr I 

Aod ■haltw. dMda, a«r hooM hav* I, 

liafa la tboH ariM of tklm, le«^ 

Cold, atoff^ fr'Mdrfilp^ «acl part. 
To polaoa krtamM vatkkM dart- 
Let ow aot iMak tlv MtkM iHart, 

BatdraMj tiMagk tha BMMati iHl, 
O Wt HM thlak wv |«t iImB MMatl 
rbat vnff fay «f aolaM tmmi 
Qui aa thy CMorti Alaa, lava. 
O «wt thaa, lava, hat Mar iMt 

Hob I0^O|| l^acgTra;or. 

«"*..*5ttf!* *• •"V *• •'^ •■^ aC - DaawB 
Oru." Fi«Mk BMBaiwlttrMl th» OiaiiM Ami Mr 
WJlar . . - 

[WaMabyW.B.Paaa«A«. WWrfahyAlM.Ua.] 
Baaa^ a hMlth t» Mr aaotlaad, tha laad ar tlM 

B««^ a haaBh, haaala BaaMaai. ta Bm t 
Bara^ahMBhhiMiahMdar mimliMBrMa, 


Btva% a hMNh ta iBa laad wh«a ha 
ar aM«Mtaad I 

■piv Barii haMM pM 
• ar av ilihii and aw hvaa. 

PAmsoa now thr bold Mtlaw, 
Bob Roj Mac«n«ar, O! 

Grant him maiejr, gaatka a'. 
Bob B«gr Maqpagor, Ol 

Let your haada aad iMarti agrv 

Hrt Um Highlaad laddla Bm, 



Aad *ilr valaar wHh piMHfa «a Ma ( 
or tha amatha that wm» «m at wiiaaiia< W*. 


Thanm a beagh af tha fa 

Aad rfmdd arQy dkaavd afiihi latctp 


For while we re united foes threaten in vain, i 

V Then Scotland's right, and Scotland's might. 

And their daring our fame shall increase. 

And Scotland's hills for me! 

Till the banner of Victory o'er land and main. 

We'll drink a cup to Scotland yet. 

Triumphant is waving in Peace. 

Wi' a' the honours three. 

Here's a health, &c. 

S5aErt m^ M^. 

5:©it!a]ii^ gft. 

[Robert Gilfillan.] 

[Written by the Rev. H. S. Riddel. Set to 

0, WHA are sae happy as me and my Janet ? 

music by Peter Macleod.] 

0, wha are sae happy as Janet and me ? 
We're baith turning auld, and our walth is soon 

Gae bring my gude auld harp ance mair. 


Gae bring it firm and fast — 

But con ten tment ye'U find in our cottage sae wee. 

For I maun sing anither sang. 

She spins the lang day when I'm out wi' the owsen, 

Ere a* my glee be past. 

She croons i' the house while I sing at the plough; 

And trow ye as I sing, my lads. 

And aye her bly the smile welcomes me frao my toil. 

The burden o't shall be. 

As up the lang glen I come wearied, I trow ! 

Auld Scotland's howes, and Scotland's knowes. 

And Scotland's hills for me ! 

When I'm at a teuk she is mending the cleading. 

I'll drink a cup to Scotland yet. 

She's darning the stockings when I sole the 

Wi* a' the honours three. 

shoon; [weary; 
Our cracks keep us cheery— we work till we're 

The heath waves wild upon her hills. 

And syne we sup sowans when ance we are done. 

And, foaming frae the fells. 

She's baking a scone while I'm smoking my cutty. 

Her founta.ins sing o' freedom still. 

While I'm i' the stable she's milking the kye; 

As they dance down the dells; 

I env7 not kings when the gloaming time brings 

And weel I lo'e the land, my lads. 

The canty fireside to my Janet and I ! 

That's girded by the sea; 

ThL'n Scotland's dales, and Scotland's vales. 

Aboon our auld heads we've a decent clay bigging. 

And Scotland's hills for me ! 

That keeps out the cauld when the simmer's 

I'll drink a cup to Scotland yet. 

awa' ; 

Wi' a' the honours three. 

We've tv/a wabs o* linen, o' Janet's ain spinning. 
As thick as dog-luga, and as white as the snaw' 

Her thistle wags upon the fields 

We've a kebbuck or twa, and some meal i' the 

Where Walljice bore his blade, 

girnel ; 

That gave her foemen's dearest bluid 

Yon sow is our ain that plays grunt at the door ; 

To dye her auld grey plaid ; 

An' something, I've guess'd, 's in yon auld painted 

And looking to the lift, my kids. 


He sang this doughty glee, 

That Janet, fell bodie, 's laid up to the fore 1 

Auld Scotland's right, and Scotland's might. 

And Scotland's hills for me ! 

Nae doubt, we have haen our .ain sorrows and 

Then drink a cup to Scotland yet. 


Wi' a' the honours three. 

Aften times pouches toom , and hearts fu' o' care 5 
But still, wi' our crosses, our sorrows and losses. 

They tell C lands wi' brighter skies, 

Contentment, be thankit, hjis aye been our share; 

Where freedom's voice ne'er rang — 

I've an auld rusty sword, that was left by my father. 

Gi'e me the hills where Ossian dwelt. 

Whilk ne'er shall be drawn till our king has a fae: 

And Coila's Minstrel sang; 

We lui'e friends ane or twa, that aft gi'e us a ca'. 

For I've nae skill o" lands, my lads. 

To laugh when we're happy, or grieve when 

That ken na to be free. •i^ 

^ we're 

Aa* flonklM «• «M* Ote Item «r Ui a^ I 
Hi* Mjr. •!• hnw. BMf rfft la iMT htt*, 

Uui art tlMgr audr bi^ tbu iuMi sad OM ? 
A* j« «te Miv kwt tlM itnislii rawl to bt iMpvy. 

WbA •!• MM aoBtmi wt* tiM hH tiMt J* tffW. 
CeifM 4owB iB AM diPriUa' cT wlilk !>• btaa 


■ Itlvli 



Aft mm wTtlng, «jn bagvUlaii 
Y« ha% mamu my knvt fka* i 

Fondly wMlag, tMdljr VHlag* 
Ltl m* lovt, Bor low* la «atai 


Bonate iMrii^ MjitlMM iMta, 

Ax«aM«ylla«,af«h _ 
Y« ha** Momi aij iHut ftw aau 

ta^ar it, man, tak' it. 

[TlMMrtlMrorthla ahtw mic, wt b*lh««, W- 
!• ofwl to PiMcy, whMV he iwblWMd a wmB vol. 

OfpOMMtslSU. HthMllBCVdM. Ul*nMM«M 

Datip Wswraa.— Atr, " Bnm aad OsUtr.**] 

Wnbh I WM m millrr In FUb, 

tekl, Tak* Imim a ww flow to your wift. 
To bdp 10 bo bcooa to j«arM)p<r. 

Tbo flartead aad fMV fer aqr Mflib 
Aadlwyfcrtiw i lilibij aadyl. 

For isfMi 10 iMbo rWilgr d 
Tot I «o tlMl M dtaaa «Hl Mi 

Od. 1 tlMM«ht Bka dwit II «ad omokH t 
flai 1 dai« ftaa av BoHo «rlMl «M lat, 
flttD tlM bappor Mid, Tbk* M, aMa, tab* tt. 
Thoabtyfcriho ■«•*•. 


boM w HM ploa|Bf 

a«* Mi obMBOVMa olapport 

J vharb add If Hw kiVpift 
I wbilM tbiiiflbl » iiiri a»t» wwa, 

itagrliV. iteBM, b yov OHMlMoo ao ohaMt I 
Bal whaa I fMw diy tw a bon^ 

U ohaafl^t a|o to TU* H. am. lab* H. 

Aad •!• wfeMi I pavpotod to faal 11, 

MbM ayo to aM. TMrM, aau^ tab* M 

Bat th» want Iblaf r did la av Mb, 

Kao doabt bat yoU tMab I «M ««af ot. 
Od. 1 laaM a bH bodio la F» 

A' toy taK aad bo awdo a bH ai« o*^ 
I bafo ayo bad a votoo a* aiy day*. 

Bm lbrili«la* I aow fat tbo baook o^) 
Tot I try wbylM, jaM tkiakli« to pl«M 

My frlMl bort. wi' Tkk* It, man, tok* It. 
Tboa bqr Ibr tho nUD, &o. 

Knw, tollhr aad a* ao I am, 
TbIs fltf I eaa ON tbiwi^ tho aMttvi 

Mab gTMdy tbaa aw or Hm I 


For 'twad seem that the hale race o* men, ^ 
Or wi' safety, the ha'f we may mak' it. 


Ila'e some speaking happer within, 

That says aye to them, Tak' it, man, tak' it. 

[Robert Allan.— Air, " Kelvin Grove."] 

Then hey for the mill, &e. 

Thk simmer sweetly smiles in Caledonia, 

The simmer sweetly smiles in Caledonia, 

Cl^amp^ie ^Im, 

Whare the scented hawthorns bLaw, 
White aa the drifted snaw, 

'Mang the bonnie woods and wUds o* Caledonia. 

[Jamks L\wsov, formerly of Glasgow, siibso- 

quentljof New York. -Tune, "Kelvin Grove."— 

There's mountain, hill, and dale. In Caledonia, 

Campsie Glen is a beautiful valley near the village 

There's mountain, hill, and dale, in Caledonia, 

or Clachan of Campsie in Stirlingshire, rich in 

There's mountain, hill, and dale. 

geological and botanical treasures, and enlivene<l 

Where lovers tell then- tale. 

by a cascade or waterfall. It is situated about ten 

By the bonnie siller streams C Caledonia. 

miles north of Glasgow, and forms a favourite 

summer-day resort to the inhabitants of thatcity.j 

The twilight hour is sweet in Caledonia, 
The twilight hour is sweet in Caledonia, 

Lkt us owre to Campsie Glen, bonnie lassie, 0, 

The twilight hour is sweet. 

By the dingle that you ken, bonnie lassie, 0, 

When fa's the dewy weet. 

To the tree where first we woo'd. 

On the bonnie banks and braes o' Caledonia. 

And cut our names so rude, 

Deep in the sauch-tree's wood, bonnie lassie, 0. 

The glens are wild and steep in Caledonia, 
The glens are wild and steep in Caledonia, 

O'er the willow brig we'll wend, bonnie lassie, 0, 

The glens are wild and steep. 

And the ladders we'll ascend, bonnie lassie, 0, 

And the ocean's wide and deep, 

Where the woodroof loves to hide 

That encircles thee, my native Caledonia. 

Its scented leaves, beside 

The streamlets, as they glide, bonnie lassie, 0. 

There's a bonnie, bonnie lass in Caledonia, 
There's a bonnie, bonnie hiss in Caledonia, 

TVTiere the blue bell on the brae, bonnie lassie, 0, 

Ilka airt the wind can blaw. 

\\ here the sweetest scented slae, bonnie lassie, 0, 

She's fairest o' them a', 

And the flow'rets ever new. 

An' the dearest ane to me in Caledonia. 

Of nature's painting true. 

All fragrant bloom for you, bonnie lassie, 0. 

Where the music of the wood, bonnie lassie, 0, 
And the dashing of the flood, bonnie lassie, 0, 

1 ^uU li^tra'^. 

O'er the rock and ravine mingle. 

And glen and mountain dingle, 

[Robert Milliken, bookseller, Glasgow.— Air, 

With the merry echoes tingle, bonnie lassie, 0. 

" Kelvin Grove."— Here lii-st printed.] 

On the moss-seat we'll recline, bonnie lassie, 0, 

I HA VH listen'd to your sang, bonnie lassie, O, 

Wi' a hand in each of thine, bonnie lassie, ; 

And thought the time nae lang, bonnie hissie, 0; 

The bosom's warmest thrill 

There was something in your Lay, 

Beats truer, safter still, 

0' that saft sweet melody. 

A» our hearts now glowing fill, bonnie lassie, 0. 

I will mind for mony a day, bonnie lassie, 0. 

Then before bright heaven's eye, bonnie lassie, 0, 

It was 0' that pleasant kind, bonnie lassie, 0, 

We wUl double love-knots tie, bonnie lassie, O ; 

That can soothe a weary mind, bonnie Uissie, ; 

Then true affection plighted. 

It was far more dear to me 

We'll love and live united. 

Than the blossom on tlie tree, 

With hearts and hands united, bonnie lassie, 0. ^ 

|.To the cheerfu' humming bee, bonnie Uisaie, 0, 



ThM Mi« «r Orafoite, komia kMri^ O, 

ab,0. A 

WiMo llM c^MriBf ihatow* Ml, 
To my oMOHty that IH orU, booBM kMrfa, O. 

(Am, « My CBlr jo Md tevK 0.*^ 

Dm ymi t^ m* jreaag Mjito Biowii* 

TIM besnlMt IM to AMiMwMI » 
Of*' tlM midda Um imtWi lomi'* 



Wm«« BflMir MMk M «v omw. 

Oilih* at • iMRk apoa tka 1«| 
Tht nUb «r l»v* apM IMT Ha- 
lite l^hlBlBfi flMUi« to lM» «^ 

Or ftremf glo— ii mp fcy 

Or msTte on Um b 
Wl' Ujrateli mag oooM MW eomf«»> 

Mm toaddt trifir to bar HMi, 

rtM wmI pat OD, MM DMt aad oImui I 

LUiovtnMl dorwton l«nk* mmI teMi^ 
Am ai* was tofvlj lo b« MHu 

Mm waa MM idia glaOnt qMoa, 
That took dellirht tojook and plart 

la aUaot thrUt ftao room to •^M, 
iBm puM d bar t»M ftac dajr to dajr. 

Wtet tai arar tookM aa AadNV aigM, 

TbavBlaara'iBl ' 

Xaaa dwv^ analr a 

Ok! wflkwlM Ibr Aadfvw aovl 

■m b «a a* har aaa a ikaam. 

TIM wani aad tolk aTa' Um taarat 
Tan ftHIa whaa yv iMar har a 

Tbaa - - 

Loaa toi«l« M* lu«ar la har ax 

Bar diaip«i« malto aaa mab b ai 
Bar hair iMafi kaMarli« •W har I 

llMT balralH to Um «a*» 
« Um aaooli aad ahafaa abooi 

raw «f taml toefaa mlam', 
And, atbBa^ try to gra ta a doat. 


bad la 

It friam tiM mam to toO tha OMMa 
WhMi maka a «wtl«y pair antwppy i 

Lac pnnlmt maidMM o^ It paom 
Tha gratia Mjnla Uka a drappla I 

Bt'OTTiSU SONGy. 251 

[William Glen.] 

How eerily, how drearily, how wearily to pine, 
\\'hen my love's in a foreign land, far frae thae arma o' mine. 
Three years ha'e come an' gane sin' first he said to me. 
That he wad stay at hame wi' Jean, wi' her to live and die ; 
The day comes in wi' sorrow now, the night is wild and drear, 
An' every hour that passeth by, 1 water wi' a tear. 

I kiss my bonnie baby, I clasp it to my breast. 
Ah ! aft wi' sic a warm embrace its father hath me prest! 
And whan I gaze upon its face, as it lies upon my knee. 
The ciystal draps out owre my cheeks will fa' fnie ilka e'e, 

! mony a mony a burning tear upon its face will fa'. 
For oh ! it's like my bonnie love, an' he is for awa'. 

■Whan the spring-tim.e had gane by and the rose began to blaw. 
An' the harebell an' the violet adorn'd ilk bonnie shaw, 
'Twas then my love cam' courtin' me, and wan my youthfu' heart. 
An' mony a tear it cost my love, ere he could frae me part. 
But though he's in a foreign land, far far across the sea, 

1 ken my Jamie's guileless heart is faithfu' unto me. 

Ye wastlin' vdn's upon the main, blaw wi' a steady breeze. 
And waft my Jamie hame again across the roarin' seas, 
O ! when he clasps me in his arms, in a' his manly pride, 
I'll ne'er exchange that ae embrace for a' the world beside. 
Then blow a steady gale, ye win's, waft him across the sea. 
And bring my Jamie hame again to his wee bairn and uic. 

[James Macdonald. — Here first printed.] 

On ! Jeanie Graham, oh ! Jeanie Graham, thou'rt dearer far to n>e 

Than summer to a weary soul upon a wintry sea; 

Thy walk is like a silver clud abune the deep green hills. 

Thy voice is sweeter than the sang o' bonnie leesome rills. 

The melody o' life an' love dwalls in that heart o' thine ; 

Oh ! whiit a prince of joy were I, if, Jeanie, thou wert mine ! 

Oh ! Jeanie Graham, thy very name is music to my ear. 

Thy lightsome step, thy merry laugh, thine e'e sae bright and clear. 

As dew drops on the hawthorn tree, around my heart still hang, 

An', like the haly pillar cloud, they float where'er I gang : 

Oh ! joy dwell in j'our bonnie briest wharever you may bel 

The very Kebla of my soul thou wert and Jirt to me. 


Vlt Sk^iwkW taiuL 

•«fy, 1814. WhM osif n f«n«r ac^ Im ybllA ii a i iiliwi af ^mm. wIMi «m mmIi aii. 

mlf«4. Ha lattwly ewiil—>wl * TW Lw^i Tlw - Hli «Mlk teak plM> te lh» Imm» «r kh Uad 

firlMd, patroa.«a4UagiBplMr,Mia.ioiuMleMarLafMMakIlMik,lsI»M.Mr. napMMtaaim. 

•ad oUmw by Ntooll wtiaOad alMu fcu a, — m» p a n n m ai K iHa H aa t t Ifca ^ af Mi pa»» 

lUbar. Mr. Tall of Mlabwglu) 

I anwa ihif a^ MaMy <w<i m* ii m ji' aiatH aj— i^ 

Far glaarfa* aiNH^ ast paaaaia* MMte ttf im paaMM mm mmivmi 

Bat I wlB ikwa* kaivtaMM. whWi avMlia kaaoaM tol, 

WkOa IIMnlB' ta tkt MRia* aawi* aP aDaUaur* ■Vtaata* WbaH. 

Tka IplMriii* Wkarfl tfM flplMila' Wlwril Mm «afy MOM li 4mh^ 
ItMladiMaaPthaarlaMra l i fcM W w Hilh a M o^ tiw yar- 
O- aoBla kaan la iMMly kaX vMa Maw li OS tlM kni t 
Aa« aaa* IMMB wkOa iNf a^ MiM ■MtlMd'* %teate* WiMiL 

O I MHl 1 1«% «M MMkMpi^ Mi« la ifrti« ihw # «te jaM 
OIWMl lla^ tiM III tktt% awoa la — »y My la Iwari 

«^ in0f« aa'jaf UMvaM aaaa llaiM «• waal- 
a Ifca MfT ar ■aiiilaai^ »Haa>a' 

^Bf mail tof'll mttt. 

[Xam •m^-AIr, •• Wail aaal kariia Iha teakj glHk'^ 
ITAa BMlr warn aaat afaia, a^ !•••> Iv yM baia Ma, 
Vaa oMhr wall waadar tkriagk ika p««a^ hf fom hmrm dta^ 
Vaw afala tka Maviriay »U1 wa kaB a« alaaa ar 4af, 
Vor waaaar agate win alfafdowa hf yoabataMa* 

TatBam^oft wtn Ibodly brood, oa yaa bara aida, 
OW kaaata whidi wt taa all ba"* trod, by yoa bara aMa, 
MB Iha walk w1* ma UmmiU ahara. Uka«<li Ugr feot aaa aavar 
Baad to aarth tha gewaa tbir, dewa by yoa bara aida. 

Vow tu lanaa^ freai avaiy aaaa, ^aaa yas aata ilda, 
Tkoa Maaaa^l, a^ !•««, aa aafri Mr, 'kaattfaa barn ddai 
Aad tfaaflaia pHy kaow. aaia tka laar fcr Mi wiU (low, 
Wko Maat Uafar kaia balaw, aaara by yoa bara alda. 


^^t ^immipir mn. 

^ Ceylon's glistening pearls are sought 
In its deepest waters; 
From the darkest mines are brought 

fRoBERT GiLFiLLAN.— Tune, "The Lea Rig."] 

Gems for beauty's daughters- 

The simmer sun now blinks again. 

Through the rent and shiver'd rock 

The laverock seeks the morning sky. 

Limpid water breaketh ; 

The gowan glitters on the plain. 

'Tis but when the cords are struck 

The daisy on the mountain high; 

That their music waketh. 

And blythe my laddie on the hill 

Sings wi' a heart, save true love, freej 

Flowers by heedless footsteps prest. 

His sang it seems to please me still. 

All their sweets surrender ; 

Although I ken 'tis a' 'bout me ! 

Gold must brook the fiery test. 
Ere it show its splendour. 

He speaks o* love, I think o' nane. 

He says without me he wad dee ; 

When the twilight cold and damp 

I bid him woo some ither ane. 

Gloom and silence bringeth. 

But aye he fondly turns to me. 

Then the glowworm lights its lamp. 

His pipe is sweetest on the hill. 

And the bulbul singeth. 

His voice is saftest on the lea; 

1 canna lo'e the laddie ill 

Stars come forth when night her shroud 

That's aye sae unco fond o' me. 

Draws as daylight fainteth; 
Only on the tearful cloud 

The bee is for the moorland bound. 

God his rainbow painteth. 

The mavis sings the braes amang. 

And nature, in her happy round. 

Weep not, then, o'er poet's •wrong. 

Is rife wi* music, mirth, an' sang. 

Mourn not his mischances,— 

Alake ! my heart, whaur wilt thou gang ? 

Sorrow is the source of song. 

'Tis no as it has been wi' thee ! 

And of gentle fancies. 

To be sae coy is surely wrang. 

The laddie's aye sae kind to me. 

il* i^o^jg*^ Ukt U ib^ maricie^. 

goinroiu an^ ^m%. 

[We find the original of this in the Scots Mag. 
axine for July, 1802, where it is signed " Duncan 

[James Hedderwick, Junr., editor of " The 

Gray." There are some verbal differences between 

Glasgow Citizen."] 

the old copy and the present.] 

Wkep not over poet's wrong. 

As Jenny sat down wi' her wheel by the fire. 

Mourn not his mischances,—- 

An' thought o' the time that was fast fleein' by'er, 

Sorrow is the source of song. 

She said to hersel' wi' a heavy hoch hie. 

And of gentle Cancies. 

Oh ! a' body's like to be married but me. 

Rills o'er rocky beds are borne. 

Ere they gush in whiteness; 

And though I've had wooers mysel' ane or twa; 

Pebbles are wave-chafed and worn. 

Yet a lad to my mind 1 ne'er could yet see. 

Ere they show their brightness. 

Oh ! a' body's like to be married but me. 

Sweetest gleam the morning flowers 

There's Lowrie, the lawjer, would ha'e me fu' fiiin, 

"When in tears they waken ; 

Who has baith a house un' a yard o' his ain : 

Earth enjoys refreshing showers 

But before I'd gang to it I rather wad die. 

>\ hen the boughs are shaken. < 

^ A wee stumpiu' body ! he'll never get me. 


tbm^ nUkaf, mrtomtm,tem Lumb m^ JbBMlfcfwtfalatardirtelMl p«v» 

WriMyritowbnUMtbatfMMUMtofni. Bat iww Ila nii n i . IM gltoli >» ■> ihnf, 
BM,Fidr4Mv(l,te|MM>vaMtak«raqr«>, , Uto aqr MlMr. thi Omw taftM m^ 
OklA'bodjmttatotoBMwriiidtatBtw H 

Bat I Mw « lid by jM Mithh bm M*, 

• t 

Ola 1 had ny will Moa h • aia I ««m>d b*. 
Gkl a* body's Uk* to b« marmd bat mm. 

I glad bin a look, ai a klad laiilt ibfHld, 
My ftWa% If tbay kMS'd U, waaldaanH nn virf I 
For tho* boaatoaad gald,ha^ao «««tlia bawbMb 
Ohl a' bodyii Uko to bo BMRiod bat BM. 

Tte bard to tak* olMlter boUai a Wtli dylio, 
Tto hard fer to tak* aao wo aooor oaa Mia, 
Tia bafd fbr to kafo aao «• tela wad bo vl*. 
Tot It Is iMudor tba 

Vita SitMf'K Soumfs* 

( A* oaat ^Mr. VMki7. (• *• OV«»«r* B^ 
Boy."-Alr, •• Qaaboil WMb.-] 

TovaMyttato^yaarWaUaaoairf bng •'ywir 

Bat whan win ja lad M a aHMi a^ rfe aM, 
Aa a tkoni^-bnd taal Mafbol Waa««o> 

Ut aaoo Vlaol Jwolo aoaM aador yoar olMT, 

TbMO olamta* okMi la tko olaehaa kaid lf«b 
Thoyni BO gfa a body bat kafd wotda. 

My Ikttk I tboy ihaDlad If afolB tkoy «« Iqr. 
▲ bot petard ao IBM ao thoir bnM owoHai 

Itnao ' 


To bo pWMd aft by ootWs BBd baailHl 
Bat V I wan BfOliOiov. a^ ooBoaiHHol IV tiy 

TolH tt li r — Ipfcrftkawolilitof l koli b aiil l M 
Dot atop, giMll itop BWMl aa, H ii iiai n K 

For if BBo «i«i to bono aOb Nototo IB, 


tr^f olD S^oUi air. 

1 olMpid ay IbIhU haad^ aad aoH 


My oMM. *■ aJd. 1 boar bar yrt. 

nat Ito bMOBtfillM palar mf , 
P^ oB IIM dark bbw ■»- 

A laad af h«* aad BMBBtyB f 

▲ad oA I dfOBBi of teBBlBlM blaa. 

Aad wftk H aamn a brahMi teal 

OM teaoi. voiaaa. oaw ao woBt, 


ToBi •ukar,bey.loo«dtluifta«oottHII> 

loft il I n li'dotillo la tha bail thing BOB, H BomM I«uiglft««aj 

laldmyblthar.thoDaaaoB,bataaaw. Aad wl|y I waav to hiar It aftOl, 

My pair eoBrfn Bab, O ! his tmlblo wUb 

Was too proad, that dM ohoas to dlMWB bm^ 
FWaft a bedlo oartd aho fbr a Biagltoniftri 1Mb, 




I heard my mother sing that song, W Amang alehouse wives she rules the roast; 

And then I left our hall ; 

For upo' the Sabbath days 

Ere 1 returned again, 'twas long. 

She puts on her weel hain'd tartain plaid 

But death had reft me all. 

An' the rest o' her Sabbath claes; 

The wallflower hung on turret strong. 

An' she sits, nae less ! in the minister's seat: 

The moss on ruin grey. 

Ilk psalm she lilts, I ween— 

And all who sung or heard that song 

There's no an auld wife in the public line 

Were gone— were wede away. 

Can match wi' Janet Macbean. 

I heard a stranger sing that air— 

A little fair-haired child. 

With sunny brow that knew no care. 

Withjoyrus eye and mild; 

She warbled snatches of that strain. 
And laughed right joyously; 

<B ^u^p humik U^^. 

In after years she may retain 

Its memory, lilie nie. 

SAY, bonnie lass, will ye lie in a barrack, 
And marry a sodger, and carry his wallet? 
say will you leave baith your mammy and 

And go to the wars with your sodger laddie ? 
say, will you leave baith your mammy and 

^umt JEaci^eaira* 

And go to the wars with your sodger laddie ? 

[Fkom *' Poems and Songs by Robert Nicoll." 

yes, bonnie lad, I will lie in a barrack. 

W^. Tait, Edinburgh.] 

And marry a sodger, and carry his wallet; 
I'll neither ask leave of my mammy nor daddy, 

Janet Macbean a public keeps. 

But aflf and away with my dear sodger laddie ? 

An' a merry auld wife is she ; 

An' she sells her yill wi* a jaunty air 

say, bonnie lass, will ye go a-cam.paigning. 

That wad please your heart to see. 

And bear all the hardships of battle and famine ? 

Her drink's o* the best— she's hearty aye. 

When wounded and bleeding, then wilt thou draw 

An' her house is neat an' clean- 

near me. 

There's no an auld wife in the pubUc line 

And kindly support me, and tenderly cheer me ? 

Can match wi' Janet Macbean. 

yes, I will brave all these perils you mention. 

She has aye a curtsey for the laird 

And twenty times more if you had the invention. 

When he comes to drink his can. 

Neither hunger, nor cold, nor dangers alarm m.e. 

An' a laugh for the farmer an" his wife. 

While I have my Harry, my dearest, to charm me. 

An* a joke for the farmer's man. 

She toddles but an' she toddles ben. 

Like onie wee bit queen— 

There's no an auld wife in the public line 

Can match wi' Janet Macbean. 

The beggar wives gang a' to her. 

^6i? €iiiideic'^ im%. 

An' she sairs them wi' bread an' cheese ;— 

Her bread in bannocks an' cheese iu whangs 

[Am, "Cauld kail in Aberdeen."] 

Wi' a blythe.gudewill she gi'es. 

Vow, the kintra-side will miss her sair 

Whan chittering birds, on flichfring wing, 

When she's laid aneath the green— 

A bout the barn doors mingle. 

There's no an auld wife in the public line 

And biting frost, and cranreuch cauld. 

Can match wi' Janet Macbean. ^ 

1^ Drive coofs around the ingle j 




And nMik ttM m «f Birtii aad itlMw 
to wy, BM^, ftwiy ■wlliw , 


And bMi and bmmM 9^ iMKt Mb«v, 

WhM 0^ th»lMf<«MM sMvfnci 

Tn chMk bjr jowl Wilkin tto bm«h, 

Ttejrn InM tU» MM aaWMr. 
Thn mod tlM li« «• flock «f' ftln, 
la aaold, MMld, Ihiatr ■■Ifcir. 

V{^ AiftKft. 



Py, Joka. (^, riww At wkuwrt 
II«IM» - 


Th> wlad bkww wwg mt ftaMliNb 
nrhta ■baltkt w» Mck» aff bi iMMit 
To «kai« tk* ia^t^ k 

Wl' mirtk and glM, *laiB Um «M. 

la eaaljr crad% and ■n«i and jekH 
Tka Bitkt drivto Ml wl* daflbt*. 

Aad Majr a Mttl* riMt li la>a. 
WMIa «n« tka Isddjr «|aaai«. 

CaAvirr ■• aMia 

■M Ik* ko«n awajr 
WMk tlKjr aff«lHa lah «rio««b 

Uikt arkMrt, *aa ^aMIrt ttgr as^. 

■ ••tkttargiglMkaBr. 

Vat Hka ikHw I «ak» ^IB, 

Vee-total ^ng. 

[Am. " CkaU kaQ hi AbtfdMa.-] 

Taaaa'a aaald kril ki A twdw, 
Aad Man and aiM tktrw Ujrtka aad Kla. 

I'M Ml !• Iraa, yail navwiw 

Taaaf WH «aa kaaw and «mI pat mm, 
MB* HytlM waa ka and t««to, 

An4 kt IOC koaagr Mary !>«>•. 

1 - -, 1 


TVha wad hae thocht at wooing time, ^ Aft may I meet the morning dew 

He'd e'er forsJiken Mary, 

Lang greet till 1 be weary. 

Anil ta'en him to the tipplin' tnule 

Thou canna, winna, gentle maid. 

Wi' boozin' Eab and Hairy. 

Thou canna be my dearie. 

Sair Mary wrought, sair :Mary grat, 

She scarce could lift the ladle ; 

Wi' pithless feet 'tween ilka greet, 

She rock'd the borrowed cradle. 
Her weddin' plenishin' was gane. 

^^M*^ tit iDeSu. 

She never thought to borrow : 

Her bonny face was waxin' wan. 

[The author of this and the following song wa« 

And Will wrought all the sorrow. 

John Goluik, the original editor of the Paisley 
Advertiser. He was a native of A jt, and for some 

He's reelin' hame ae winter night. 

time before he started the Paisley newspaper. 

Some Liter nor the gloamin' ; 

w hich was the first ever published in that town , and 

He's ta'en the rig— he's miss'd the brig. 

was begun on the 9th Oct. 1824, he had been en- 

And Bogie's ower him foamin'. 

gaged as editor of the Ayr Courier. Previous to 

Wi' broken ^anes out ower the stanes. 

this, too, in 1822, he had brought out by sub- 

He creepit up Strathbogie, 

scription a small volume of " Poems and Songs." 

And a' the nicht he pray'd wi' might. 

He died suddenly, from the bursting of a blood- 

To keep him frae the cogie. 

vessel, on the 27th Feb. 1826, in the twenty-eighth 
year of his age. At the time of his death, he was 

Now Mary's heart is light again, 

engaged in compiling forMr. M'Phun of Glasgow 

She's neither sick nor silly ; 

a collection of songs, which was published in two 

For auld or young, nae sinfu' tongue 

small volumes, with the title of " The Spirit of 

Could e'er entice her Willie. 

British Song."] 

And aye the sang through Bogie rang. 

! haud ye frae the cogie ! 

Sweet's the dew-deck'd rose in June^ 

The weary gill's the sairest ill 

And my fair to see, Annie, 

On braes o' fair Strathbogie. 

But there's ne'er a flower that blooms. 

Is half so (air as thee, Annie. 
Beside those blooming cheeks o' thine. 

The opening rose its beauties tine. 
Thy lips the rubies far outshine; 
Love sparkles in thy e'e, Annie. 

Me^ gl^am^ ti$ mn. 

The snaw that decks yon mountain top. 

Nae purer is than thee, Annie ; 

[Dr. Coupkr.— Air, " Nlel Gow."] 

The haughty mien, and pridefu' look. 
Are banish'd far frae thee, Annie ; 

Red gleams the sun on yon hill tap. 

And in thy sweet angelic face. 

The dew sits on the gowan ; 

Triumphant beams each modest grace, 

Deep murmurs through her glens the Spey, 

" And ne'er did G ecian chisel trace," 

Around Kinrara rowan. 

A form sae bright as thiue, Auuie. 

Where art thou, fairest, kindest laaa? 

Alas ! wert tliou but near me. 

Wha could behold thy rosy cheek. 

Thy gentle soul, thy melting eye. 

And no feel love s sharp pang, Annie ? 

Would ever, ever cheer me. 

What heart could view thy smiling looks. 
And plot to Jo thee wrang. Annie ? 

The lavTock sings amang the clouds. 

Thy name in ilka sang I'll weave. 

f he lambs they sport so cheerie. 

My heart, mv soul wi' thee 111 leave. 

And I sit weeping by the birk. 

And never, till I cease to breatne. 

where art thou my dearie ? e 

y ill cease to UxinK on tuee, Anuie. 


flail ctn tfrs Bo](om« 

Tl» put tot low and MM. IhMIk ? 

MomaH soHoai. 

A TiMn 

•m tedir Ph^ii ^ tkn, Mil* ? 

■ la foa lovt^B^Mat t o w, 
Toa f««r^ fef ooMy kawoMy p— r , 

Toaia M^w loro MO tat ■•. I^Mo. 
WBt tkoa-^wOt thoa ■■■( oai ln«o m 
Wla ny kMfft, aad tiMa «nilfa aw/ 


AA ho>» yo roootf aiy ra^ okodi* 

Aft pnUa^d aqr i^artlliV oX laMliW 
Aft aid BOO boa oa Mrtk yo^ Hik, 

I aft wmaki ^oa4 at i^iolog^ fc*, 

IW talaofcc llMoa wnalk o^ flowv^ 




kai "aoaik «ho laKlko kairt to Wi, 
Ttaft kaali ftr loM^ aai dMw kiMaw 

Wla aqr kMft aad tftaa doMNa ao / 

Ok f itat kMft wOllnok. kdto«« ao, 
Ola y« port ftao aM, kkMtak 

Tooil moM a kna aai^ oaaot aad kir, 
— t lawr ta a llM tkiao, laiJK 

A lo«« MM tra M ariaa. laMla. 
Bo* ataa Ikat katt li laM at art, 
Tkal kait ttat loM |o kMt aa« kat. 

Wa ko lo«o aad tkkMb loMlo. 

(Mrreaatu — Air, *■ Tkoa koaalo « 
Ciaifto taa."] 

O I waas I on tk« hmtky kUli, 
That ria abooa tk* tttaahy lat 

Aad waadftait by tk* oootal rilk, 
WkvH Maiy, flat i ooartod tkai 

fikma t ^-C l i aa V AINf.w 0I » aoa a*- 
k'Attya, tto gnat 0m oT niliiaii, tea «ali»y 

oa t k ^a ^ th* wkol* kaal* o/iko I 


On *• ofey BM-aa«i Ik* «tai b a«aki t 
Ak t aew ki a aoaoat a«y oaoalqr I laai 
Tko ant I aa te amiv, iv oa Iko vaoo. 

Oi Ika «ka wall, fta ika woO, Otaiia* 
kAttya. Ck'Alkya. 

O! kao tka voO, taa tka aoB, Olo 

I aaopwadoftkopiiowoaitktiMaaofayokK 
Aadtoalatkma— oi a tkortaafa^lMk; 
Aa4 aoor ki kla gaalaoa ko tavao aa away, 
WkMwyHia mk k dia ^y ii aad aty loria aia 


I fo to kaa akw of iko kMB of tl 
Or to «o aakMMalad oa CkMMte^ 



Ib%%u ^uu^^x. 

["Tnis old song," says Bums, "so pregnant 
with Scottish naivete and energy, is much relished 
by all ranks, notwithstjiiiding its broad wit and 
palpable allusions. Its language is a precious 
model of imitation: sly, sprightly, and forcibly 
expressive. Maggie's tongue wags out the nick- 
names of Rob the piper, with all the careless 
lightsomeness of unrestrained gaiety." — The au- 
thor of "Maggie Lauder" is generally said to be 
Francis Skmpi-k, Esq. of Beltrees in Renfrew- 
shire, who lived about the middle of the seven- 
teenth century, and who is also the reputed author 
of the songs entitled " The Blythsome Bridal" and 
•' She rose and let me in," (see pages 99 and 244.) 
Semple was the descendant of a poetical family. 
A progenitor of his — Robert, Lord Semple, was a 
voluminous versifier in the previous century, and 
published a number of works between the years 
1565 and 1573. The cousin -german of this writer. 
Sir James Semple of Beltrees, was author of " The 
Packman's Pater-noster;" his successor, Robert 
Semple, was author of the celebrated ** Epitaph 
on Habbie Simpson," and father of Francis 
Semple, the subject of the present notice. Besides 
the songs ascribed to him, Francis Semple was 
author of "The Banishment of Poverty," and 
some epitaphs in Pennycooke's collection of Poeti- 
cal Pieces. Mr. Motherwell, we know, at one 
time contemplated collecting and publishing the 
works of the Semples of Beltrees, but whether he 
had proceeded any way in the undertaking before 
his lamented death we cannot say. Doubts as to 
Semple being the author of "Maggie Lauder" 
have been thrown out, on two grounds: first, 
that the scene of the song belongs to Fifeshire i 
and secojidly, that the song, if so old as Semple's 
day, would have appeared in Ramsay's Tea-Table 
Miscellany, which it does not. To these objec- 
tions it may be answered, that, although the 
heroine, Maggie Lauder, professedly belongs to 
Anster in Fife, the scene of the song is not laid 
there ; for the third line says, "A piper met her 
gaun to Fife." The allusion also to "Habbie 
Simpson" in the last stanza, " Sin' we lost Habbie 
Simpson," may be considered favourable to Sem- 
ple's claim, for Habbie was a noted piper in 
Kilbarchan, a village in Renfrewshire, contiguous 
to the estate of Beltrees. A statue of Habbie is 
still to be seen in a niche of the village steeple 
of the place. As to the song not appearing in 
Ramsay's Tea-Table Miscellany, that might arise ^ 

from accident or oversight: the tune of "Maggie 
Lauder" can at least be traced as far back as the 
beginning of the last century, and Gay introduces 
it in his musical opera of Achilles, printed in 1733. 
With all this, we candidly confess, that, judging 
from internal evidence, we would be inclined to 
pronounce "Maggie Lauder" to be a produc- 
tion subsequent, and not anterior, to the days of 

Wha wadna be in love 

Wi' bonnie Maggie Lauder ? 
A piper met her gaun to Fife, 

And speir'd what was't they ca'd her; — 
Right scornfully she answer'd him. 

Begone you hallanshaker ! 
Jog en your gate, you bladderskate. 

My name is Maggie Lauder. 

Maggie, quo' he, and by my bags, 

I'm fidgin' fain to see thee ; 
Sit down by me, my bonnie bird. 

In troth I winna steer thee : 
For I'm a piper to my trade. 

My name is Rob the Ranter ; 
The lasses loup as they were daft. 

When I blaw up my chanter. 

Piper, quo' Meg, ha'e ye your bags ? 

Or is your drone in order ? 
If ye be Rob, I've heard of you. 

Live you upo' the border ? 
The lasses a', baith far and near. 

Have heard o' Rob the Ranter; 
I'll shake my foot wi' right gude will, 

Gif you'll blaw up your chanter. 

Then to his bags he flew wi' speed. 

About the drone he twisted ; 
Meg up and wallop'd o'er the green. 

For brawly could she frisk it. 
Weel done ! quo he — play up ! quo' she ; 

Weel bobb'd! quo' Rob the Ranter; 
'Tis worth my while to play indeed. 

When I ha'e sic a dancer. 

Weel ha'e you play'd your part, quo' Meg, 

Your cheeks are like the crimson ; 
There's nane in Scotland plays sae weel, 

Since we lost Habbie Simpson. 
I've lived in Fife, baith maid and wife, 

These ten years and a quarter ; 
Gin' ye should come to Anster fair, 

Speir ye for Maggie Lauder. 


■UUTTUU 802108. 


{Wtamm by Caft. Chabub Om*T, ami int 

Aad vtetv |M 4id MMid IHT, 

▲ Mi« ««• bout hi llM brt 

Thra Bob aa4« kowd* ll« Mi M«»» 

▲■* to llM kMmwy VBOtad I 
R* ptard tht MM ** Kan Voofe •> rUb,- 

nat Hub htaBMr acw pbqrM • iVi*^. 

Vor «!•» M> nwl Mi alMBtv, 
Yor bfi matfi IbHii «0w« t» itafi 

rttr »' ttM Mik Ml* Inii M^oMi 
TM» •wr twid iiili 11 hm. 

fbr Iw lo^ Mi^lri* M Mi Hft^ 
▲a* lUg tof^ Bib Hm BMrti 

f WBtmnr bjr Bitbm, fbr J«bMiB<» Mw 
b* tb* toa* of" Macfli LMdir.**) 

I MAABin wttb aiioMliv wttb, 
Tbi fc aH iiib of Vmmmbmi 

B» nadi BM «MM7 af ngr Mfew 
Bf om mnrOf mmahm, 

looff did I baar tbi bwfy lahib 

WeoM I aMdd KBHi» I da prtft^ 

I ipaak. BBd do Boc taliv, 
OTaU tba ««BM M tbi ««Hi. 

H^ba^ylili UM ii l iwa. 

A baadHiM gfBM de« hMi ban 
■bI MM b» ani li Bat M Mfl, 

Tba dril aaaM Bi^ aMda b». 
1 wrtbt r JMBbiba li rtift, 

Bwiibli inMBlilbMrbirfala 

Wbenflb Vortail haxiXt). 


Wbie |«B as* 1 A Mag BB* dry, 
Lin faib BbBBt tbaJafWB I 

niii» Miifcii inbi bl^ba«K 



»B«« baaaaa bM ti ipafl aar d 

W«« dMWB bba la tba bWaat 

BBii, baal tb a W w a i Bii MgKM|btr, 
TMi li aar baaa, av «i*i7 4Mi% 



VTi' guid ait cakes, or butter bakes, 
And routh o* whiskey toddy, 

WTia daur complain, or mak' a mane. 
That man's a saul-lesa body : 

^nU ^umt Mdt^. 

[AtR, "Johnnie M'Gill," 

or "The Laird o' 

AuLD Janet Baird, auld Janet Baird, 
A wonderfu' woman was auld Janet Baird, 
Come gentle or semple, come cadger or caird, 
A groat made them welcome wi' auld Janet 

Auld Janet Baird was a changewife o' fame, 
Wha keepit guid liquor, as weel's a guide name ; 
Could pray wi' the priest, an' could laugh wi* the 

For learned an' leesome was auld Janet Baird. 

Auld Janet could brew a browst o' guid ale. 
An' baket guid bannocks to quicken its sale. 
An' while that a customer's pouch held a plack, 
Auld Janet ne'er fail'd in her sang or her crack. 

Auld Janet Baird was baith gaucy and sleek, 
Wi' the cherry's dark red on her lip and her cheek, 
Wi' a temper and tongue like a fiddle in time. 
An' merry an' licht as a laverock in June. 

Auld Janet Baird had a purse fu' o' gowd, 
A but an' a ben wi' guid plenisliin' stow'd, 
A kist fu' o* naiprie, a cow, and kail yard ; 
An' wha was sae bein or sae braw's Janet Baird ? 

Auld Janet grew wanton, auld Janet grew braw. 
Wore new-fangled mutches, red ribbons, an' a' , 
At bridal or blythe-meat, at preachin' or fair. 
The priest might be absent, but Janet was there. 

Auld Janet grew skeich, an' auld Janet grew 
crouse, [house, 

An* she thocht a guidman a great mense to a 
And aft to herself she wad sich and complain, 
" O, woman's a wearifu' creature alane 1" 

The clack o' sic beinness brought customers routh. 
To crack wi' the carlin, an' slocken their drouth. 
An' mony's the wooer who vow'd and declared. 
He'd sell his best yaud to win auld Janet Baird. ^ 

^But Janet had secretly nourished for lang 
A sort of love-liking for honest Laird Strang; 
"He's sober an' civil — his youth can be spared ; 
He'd mak' a douce husband," quoth auld Janet 

The wooer that's hooly is oftentimes crost. 

An' words wared on courtin' are often words lost ; 

" For better for waur, here's my loof," quoth the 

" Content ; it's a bargain," quoth auld Janet Baird. 

The marriage was settled, the bridal day set. 
The priest, an' the piper, an' kindred were met. 
They've wedded an' bedded, an* sickerly pair'd. 
She's now Mrs. Strang that was auld Janet Baird. 

^f)2 miu <MuU 0im. 

[Henry S. Ribdhll.— First published in the 
Portfolio of British Songs. The air is an old reel 
tune, originally called " The Drummer," but now 
better known by the name of " The Tailor," for 
which Bums wrote some words, with the burthen, 
" For weel he kenn'd the way, 0."J 
About the closin' o' the day. 

The wild green woods amang, O, 
A wee auld man cam' doon this way. 

As fast as he could gang, O. 

He entered into this wee house. 

Where unco weel kent he, O, 

That there, there lived a virtuous lass. 

And fair as fair could be O. 

For he had vow'd to ha'e, 0, 

To ha'e, O, to ha'e, O, 
For he had vow'd to ha'e, O, 
A wifie o' his ain, O. 

He tell't the auld gudewife he'd come 

Her dochter Jean to woo, 0, 
And gin she would but come wi' him. 

She never would it rue, O. 
For he had oxen, horse, and kye. 

And sheep upon the hill, 0, 
And monie a cannie thing forbye. 

That should be at her will, 0. 
For he had vow'd, &c. 

The auld gudewife replied in turn. 

Up rising frae her stool, O, 
The lass that would your proffer spurn. 

Would surely be a fool, 0. 


• tofk»4oOTnMd»uutowlMrti, A Qimymmwr^AamytmmtM, 



Tht «M aold va^lMdd « 


Km lot* ftir Urn hMl dM, O. 
BtoidA^ Aaldfoak! ]«•■«• Mt»pMt 

That I aw at^ b« thta*. O I 
Toe eooM to woo oqr oMMTk iMatt, 
Ym «am BM kai« ferniM, a 
FartUi It BO tlw wi^, O, 
TIm way* O, tiM «or* O^ 
Vor Ihia b BO tho «v O, 
▲ liiiil h«ri to wiB, O. 

And MOB m lap cbom 

Aod oat jooBff J«i 


Tbo «•• aold BuunoH ■ 
▲b4 |M« aad IB^ ko M«n» O, 


To hoM a wMk BBi f«l» a wM^ 

TUB a wl« HMui, tela a wlw «iaa i 

Bat to fot a wtfb to nU* a bmw, 

O that !• oaa, O tkaa 70 oaa i 

■o tho wtib than wtat «o a|o aiaaa ptte, 

Por tlMjno *w |o hm. thqr** HBtot |o hoB I 

O Belo ro oB a^ jwH bo te' aao. 

Bo^ ayo o^ blato. W% art o<<v Matt I 

To BiaaB dast o^ thtBi aad BMk* or lhtB^ 
Kht thtjrH tak* tho terliHwo<* <kt feBitay -hood } 
OtB tht hteBy-caooa onad aow fai^ daat, 
Thiyaada|obtgaU,thiy«BdigpobtfBtd. ^^ 

To wfll |tt>an. ft «« fWiHMi 

Ab* IT rfw ho a hoMit IM^ 

To Biar ■« tat*, ft Mf p* tatat 

Aa* glTio piM «r tM than ««t| 
■mV PBT yo «MB, AtH PB* !• «Mi 

Bat ht that ftti a gBld. IBM ««h, 
0««t fMtf aaM«h. firti par aiMBgk 
Ab* ht that itti BB ■, Bl arlkb 

A aiM BMiy 4pta' aa* ha^ to tht ta*, 
Uhli ««b ht oaght, V hit ««» kt OBfl 

If Mi trtft bo aofliK ir hit ««h ho aoBghl. 

fi cogif 0' s^n. 

t or tho lart otatBfy 



I hi vm, 

«tththttMltor**JaarioaadBtit^- ihii W fwto 
hytradtabaohMadv. Bara^ to hk thM VoHli- 

r orno AladiiB C 

Aad hiy Ibr tht OBglt. aad toy te tl 

Ota yo ttttr a* thi«lthtr thqrB do Bi 

«t http a ohM thtav aad hri* « 

Wkm t OM BBT ■attoted^ 



WTien our brave Highland blades, ^ CLnehan bairnies roar wi' fright, 

^Vi' their claymores and plaids. 

CLichan dogs tak' to their trotters , 

In the field drive hke sheep a' our foes, man; 

Clachan wives the pathway dicht 

Their courage and pow'r— 

To tranquillise his thraward features 

Spring frae this to be sure, 

Gangrel bodies in the street 

They're the noble effects o' the brose, man. 

Beck and bow to make him civil. 

Then hey, &c. 

Tenant bodies in his debt. 

Shun him as they'd shun the devlL 

But your spyndle-shank'd sparks. 

Heard ye e'er, &c. 

Wlia sae ill fill their sarks. 

Vour pale-visaged milksops and beaux, man; 

Few gangs trigger to the fair. 

I think when I see them. 

Few gangs to the kirk sae gaucie,— 

'Twere kindness to gi'e them— 

Few wi' Donald can compare 

A cogie 0' yill or o' brose, man. 

To keep the cantel o' the causie : 

Then hey, &c. 

In his breast a bladd o' stane, 
Neith his hat a box o' brochan. 

"WTiat John Bull despises. 

In his nieve a wally cane, 

Our better sense prizes. 

Thus the tyrant rules the clachan. 

He denies eatin' blanter ava, man; 

Heard ye e'er, &c. 

But by eatin' o' blanter. 

His mare's grown, I'll warrant her. 

The manliest brute o' the twa, man. 

Then hey, &c. 

IMte mtk. 

Miraall 'Bunn. 

[Said to be composed by a Seceding aergyman 
at Biggar.] 

Ida sriD Webster.— Air, " Johnnie Pringle."] 

LOVH ! thou delights in man's ruin. 
Thy conquests they cost us full dear; 

Heard ye e'er o' Donald Gunn, 

Maun I forfeit my life for the viewing 

Ance sae duddy, dowf, and needy. 

The charms o' that lovely Miss Weir ? 

Now a laird in yonder toun. 

Tho' sometimes thou bid me aspire. 

Callous-hearted, proud, and greedy. 

Again thou distracts me wi' fear 
And envy o* ane that is higher— 

Up the glen aboon the linn. 

Wha's even'd to the charming Miss Weir. 

Donald met wi' Maggie Millar, 

"VVooed the lass amang the whins. 

As down in yon valley a-walking. 

Because she had the word o' siller ; 

Whare nae christen'd creature was near. 

Jleg was neither trig nor braw. 

The birds all around me were talking 

Had mae fauts than ane laid till her; 

0' naething but charming Miss Weir : 

Donald looket ower them a'. 

That sweet little bird, called the Unnet, 

A' his thought was on the siller. 

In accents delightfully dear. 

Heard ye e'er, &«. 

Declai-ed to the world that in it 

Was nought hke the lovely Miss Weir. 

Donald grew baith braid and braw. 

Ceased to bore the whinstone quarry. 

Oh Cupid ! my head it is muddy. 

Maggie's sUler pays for a'. 

I wish it may ever be clear ; 

Breeks instead o' duddy barrie : 

For aye, when I sit down to study. 

Though he's ignorant as a stirk, 

My mind runs on charming Miss Weir. 

Though he's doure as ony donkey ; 

I'm tosb'd like a ship on the ocean. 

Yet, by accidentia jirk 

That kens na what course for to steer; 

Donald rides before a flunky. 

Yet at times I'm so vain in my motion. 

Heard ye e'er, &c. ^ 

p. As hope for the lovely Miss Weir. 


W«8 4t VfUUii f^at})f r. 

itommluLAm. MmI» bf A. Lm.1 

BbtI •» tiM RMu kMttMT, 
Il«yi ibr lb* HWm kMtkt 

Dwr to m», sad ay* ihail b», 
Tk» booate bnMi o- Rklui 

Hay I te «M BldM hmtlHr, 

I>nr to »•. Md ay* 

TIM iMte ud taMM Mr <ki«MMr ( 

B«7! krlkt BMui iMBllMr, 

ll«yi te ito HMm inlfcir, 
Dmt to m*« Mid •!• alMdl ha* 

TW bewda braaa 9f HMmm hmtOm, 
Tha baaato Md wUb, fef laak Mri Um, 

An tiprd irtik gMid to riMMT wMka 

Bay I fcr Ite HMaa kMlhar, 
!>■» to oM, aad aia ib«B ba. 
Tba baaala bfaai 

ISPI^e %iM of ymtoii ^tn. 

fAujui CvmmioKAK.— Air. ** 0«od alfhtaad 


Tha daw Ml aoft. tlM wtad «M lowBT, 
lU gaatia bnatk amang Uw tewata 

Saaiva ittR^i tka tUatltli top or down I 
TiM dapplad aaraUow MIUm pool. 

Tha aton iwa bltokli^ aw tka hill, 
Whni I a>ai anoat tha hMrihoTM SNW 

Tha loably laH «r Faartm-toUL 

Lad haaw ■imiit liiibli ihi ii> kmmm, 
ThalatolylMiafn— laiin 

• aryf 

flw tovaly hMa ar Plaato^toB. 

I MM, fvaattoiMaB, teak aM «<«•. 

Bat glrfe a Uii. M« aa«a with aia ; 
A iavallavlMa O mrm feak^ ap,— 

Tha toaia aafadrapptag tea har a>w 
I ha'a a lad wha •« kr a»a'. 

That »aal caald wta a waaaa^ wm « 
Mj h«rt% ahaady Ml af tova^ 

»wih tfcatota» law ar, Pi inaim, 

»a« «ka li IM aaali IMM ito a hH^ 

I ida «Mi hlii^l IbMi ftaa har a^ 
1 toak a» ktai ar har aama^ alMh— 

My haaft la Ihn afalkw lava, 

»atklkahi»a|ylaaiaf Pitotoa adH 

Bm taarb ay ktott kaaa aaght of 0«d, 
Or Hiklli gtoAtowa to toy a> i 

Tin my ton drap af hiaad ba attl. 

My I 

M|r vaMa aa Daa^ adid baaka. 
Aad Vlth-a RiMaaBa tola to Ai't 
Oy Aa aad OtoadMiii haa»li atraoM 

O lihay ato Hgkto af a hetoda klad, 
Aa ■!■ ikiai aa aala aad hIB, 

BM Ihato/^ aa «|k* pato Ihaaa an a« 
Tkatotolytotoaf Piiia illli 


'^S^ 0fmmer mmn. ' 

^ Then swell the sang baith loud and lane, 
Till the hills like aspens quiver ; 
An' fill ye up, and toast the cup. 

[J. Mitchell.— Air, "Green grows the rashes."] 

Th« land o' cakes for ever. 

Bkight shines the simmer's mom. 

Be scom'd the Scot within whose heart 

Bright shines the sknmer's mom ; 

Nae patriot flame is burning ; 

Come let us view the flowery fields. 

Wha kent nae pain frae hame to part, 

And hail wi' joy the waving coin. 

Nae joy when back returning. 
Nae love for him in life shall yearn. 

Let those who think that pleasure lies 

Nae tears in death deplore him ; 

Within the magic glasses, 0, 

He hath nae coronach nor caira. 

Come view with me the glorious skies, 

Wha shames the land that bore him. 

And own themselves but asses, 0. 

Then swell the sang, &c. 

Bright shines, &c. 

Fair flower the gowans in our glens. 

WiU dissipation's feeble gait 

The heather on our mountains ; 

Wi' health's elastic step compare ? 

The blue bells deck our wizard dens. 

Will aching heads ne'er leam to hate 

An' kiss our sparkling fountains. 

The haunts, where lurlcs the demon care ? 

On knock an' knowe, the wliin an' broom. 

Bright shines, &c. 

An' on the braes the breckan ; 
Not even Eden's flowers in bloom 

Refreshing is the moming air. 

Could sweeter blossoms reckon. 

The night is damp and dreary, ; 

Then swell the sang, &c. 

The fool who would the two compare. 

May sleep till he is weary, 0. 

"When flows our quegh within the glen. 

Bright shines, «&c. 

Within the hall our glasses ; 
We'll toast auld Scotland's honest men. 

Then let us seek the flowery dells. 

Thrice o'er her bonnie lasses. 

Where health is in attendance, 0, 

And deep we'll drink the Queen and Kirk, 

And from the pure, the crystal rills. 

Our country and our freedom ; 

Drink to sweet independence, 0. 

Wi' broad claj-more an' Highland dirk. 

Bright shines, &c. 

We're ready when they need them. 
Then swell the sang, &c. 

The tavern's roar, then, let us shun. 

if health or wealth we prize them, ; 

The poor man's fortune is begun. 

When he learns to despise them, 0. 
Bright shines, &c. 

[Poetry and Air by Dr. E. Spittal.] 

^6^ EaE^ (S)' ®£ite» 

Oh ! deck thy hair wi' the heather bell. 
The heather bell alone; 

[John Ibilah.— Air, *• The Black Watch."] 

Leave roses to the Lowland maid. 
The Lowland maid alone. 

The land o' cakes! the land o' cakes ! 

I've seen thee wi' the gay, gay rose. 

! monie a blessing on it ; 

And wi' the heather bell,— 

Fair fa' the land o" hills, o' lakes. 

I love you much with both, fair maid; 

The bagpipe and the bonnet. 

But wear the heather bell. 

The countrie o' the kilted clans. 

For the heather beU, the heather bell. 

That cowed the Bane and Roman ; 

Which breathes the mountain air. 

Whose sons ha'e stiU the hearts an' ban's 

Is far more fit than roses gay 

To welcome friend or foeman. ^ 

^ To deck thy flowing hair. 


Awt9, mm* n i««« iif I 

TbM twlM • wfMth a" «k« hMtlMT ban* 

For roM, nor Vkf, twtot y* fitmn, 


^e i^Iotoerit of ^^inbtttgl). 

rriM ««0<ldM«ni popakr tmm «dM "TW 
doidMi Pia*M OwnpMhwi. Vfll tat 

Aad kMV aol to wlHt dMtiiqr* 

Bat !•■ MOTS ana iMMMla 

y»tfc»ii •ff 

T» MM a iUr and plMaat ty*! 

ABicMnaf ■• 



MmII MM akMSd ftwB TWMd t» l^t 



BCOTTISn S0NG3. 26*7 

^ Then bring us a tank<ard o' nnppy gude ale ; 

§^m^ €M^^, 

For to comlbrt our hearts and enliven the tale ; 

We'll aye be the merrier the langor we sit, 

For weTe drank thegither mony a time, and tae 

[Alexander Laing.] 

will we yet. 
And sae will we yet, &c. 

Mary ance had mony a charm. 

Few could boast o" half sae mony ; 

Success to the farmer, and prosper his plough, 

In ilka day an' Sunday claes. 

Rewarding his eident toils a' the year through • 

Mary aye was neat and bonnie. 

Our seed time and harvest we ever will get. 

But the fairest flow'r o' May 

For we've lippen'd aye to providence, and sae will 

Is nae in a' the wreath o' July; 

we yet. 

And now amang the maidens gay. 

And sae will we yet, &c. 

Ye winna meet wi' Mary Cowley 1 

Long live the king, and happy may he be, 

Mary ance had mony a lad. 

And success to his forces by land and by sea ! 

Few could boast o' half sae mony ; 

His enemies to triumph we never \vill permit, 

But ah ! the silly fickle maid, 

Britons aye have been victorious, and sae will 

The newest aye was best of ony. 

they yet. 

Now the laddies woo nae mair. 

And sae will they yet, &c. 

Now the lassie rues her folly ; 

1 And dowie are the wearie days 

Let the glass keep its course, and go merrily roun'. 

An' lanely nights C Mary Cowley' 

For the sun has to rise, though the moon it goes 

Lassie, I maun leave you too. 

Till the house be rinnin* roun' about, it's time 

Though 1 lo'e you best C ony; 

enough to flit. 

Ye ha'e wooers mony ane. 

When we fell, we aye got up again, and sae wiU 

Ye winna ken the want C Johnny ! 

we yet. 

Lassie, yet, afore we part. 

And sae will we yet, &c. 

0, tak' the lad that lo'es you truly. 

Lest ye be left wi' shame an' wae. 

To dree the fate o' Mary Cowley. 

M^t^t Bu fot m. 

^M feill ^t gict 

[Written by Ebknezer Picken, a native of 
Paisley, whose poems were published at Edin- 
burgh in 1813, in two small vols. He died in 1815 

[Written many years ago by Walter Wat- 

or 1816.] 

son, a weaver in Kirkintilloch.] 

Bltthe are we set wi' ither ; 

Bit ye down here, my cronies, and gi'e us your 

Fling care ayont the moon ; 


Nae sae aft we meet thegither I 

Let the win' tak' the care o' this life on its back. 

Wha wad think o' parting soon ? 

Our hearts to despondency we never will submit, 

Though snaw bends down the forest trees. 

For we've aye been provided for, and sae will we 

And burn and river cease to flow ; 


Though nature's tide has shor'd to freeie. 

And sae will we yet, &c. 

And winter nithers a' below. 
Blythe are we, &c. 

Let the miser delight in the hoarding of pelf. 

Since he has not the saul to enjoy it himself: 

Now, round the ingle cheerly met. 

Since the bounty of providence is new ev'ry day, 

We'll Bcog the blast and dread nae harm, 

As we journey through life, let us live by the way. 

Wi' jaws o' toddy reeking het, 

Let us live by the way, &c. { 

^ We'U keep the genial current warm. 


Tto vvUlac flM wfB taahh ptaNt 


VI)f lanl) for mt. 

(Wmrrar by J. H>i 

I*va bwB apaa < 


Bat l0*«av li tkt fHM MM^ 

WlMo bathii to Bfkt flT aU«iriihra 4 

Thalaadi ttelaadi kmwm. 

Tha ttanahn wavaa X*«a gIMai tfW 




TiMfa Wt aw aw ka { 
Tb»arali>iHfcBa— Bflwai^ 

If on f sttl^. 

TW HBt af birdi oQ avwy UO, 
TiMlBBdl UMkadlfcraa. 

Tba blDowa I hata bam 
Wban tfaqmO^ fai 
AsdsiglitlMr ~ ' 


MyheaM " " 
Vrhtn wtadi aaajrhowl, bat data aoft pkrea, 

Tbtlaad' tba land! flartna. 


Thtj win a* aar piM 

Tat wl' awwt aen«i«t ai 

Wa aovj B8t a Hag, 



And when the time shall come, ^ 

f Wild is thy lay and loud. 

At our ain fireside. 

Far in the downy cloud ; 

That'll lay us in the tomb. 

Love gives it energy, love gave it birth ; 

Frae our ain fireside ; 

Where on the dewy wing. 

"Wi' faith that cjinna shrink. 

Where art thou journeying ? 

We'll no tremble on the brink, 

Thy lay is in heaven, thy love is on earth. 

When death shall loose the link. 

At our ain fireside. 

O'er fell and mountain sheen. 
O'er moor and mountain green, 
O'er the red streamer that heralds the day; 
Over the cloudlet dim. 
Over the rainbow's rim. 

%ib2 m2 t|e 2m* 

Musical cherub, hie, hie thee away. 
Then when the gloaming conies. 

[J. MiTCHHi.L, Paisley. Air, " Gran an Gig." 

Low in the heather blooms. 

—This originally appeared in a small book of i 

Sweet will thy welcome and bed of love be 1 

Proverbs published by Mr. John Keilson of 

Bird of the wilderness. 


Blessed is thy dwelling-place. 
Oh ! to abide in the desert with thee. 

Oh give me the ear that is deaf to the ills. 

Which the slanderer's tongue has in store ; 

And the eye that the moisture of pity distills. 

When the good and the great are no more. 

'E'^2 ®l35ief^* 

! give me the tongue that disdains to repeat 

What envy so glibly will tell. 

[W. Alkxandkk.] 

But responds to our joys when in fiiendship we 


" If thou would'st view fair Melrose aright, 

1 Round ttie board, care's dark thoughts to dispell. 

Go visit it by the pale moon light."— Scott. 

j give me the heart that can bleed for the woes ' 

Oh, ha'e ye seen the Tweed while the moon shone 

1 Which another is fated to feel— 


i And the hand that on penury freely bestows. 

And the stars gemmed the sky wi' their siller ligh t ? 

Yet the gift will as nobly conceal. 

If ye ha'ena seen it, then 

Give me these, and I vow in my journey through 

Half its sweets ye canna ken 


Oh, gae back and look again 

Care ne'er will a shadow impart; 

On a shining night ! 

If Nature bestow on my friend and my wife. 

Such an ear, such a tongue, such a heart. 

Oh, ha'e ye seen the Tweed when the cloister and 

In the long shadows slept of the mouldering pile ? 

Oh the fondest canna deem 

What that silent scene doth seem 

^■J)^ Harfe* 

Till beneath pale Cynthia's beam 
He hath gazed awhile! 

[James Hooo.— Music by Clark.] 

Oh, ha'e ye seen the Tweed when the moon's in 
the cloud- 

Bird of the wilderness. 

When the dark waves are rolling baith fierce and 

Blythesome and cumberless. 


Sweet be thy matin o'er moorland and lea 1 

Oh, beware ilk wizard den, 

Emblem of happiness. 

For in sooth ye mayna ken. 

Blessed is thy dwelling-place. 

What spirits roam the glen 

Ob ! to abide in the desert with thee I t 

. 'Neath their dusky shroud ! 



Oh. ka% !• MM Um TwMd « 

WlMB Ik* MB «ipi Ilk MD « 

aUJTflBH 0OVOil 
BtiMaoMi^iMcAl htm Uoi mmtr ] 

Bat k*^ y* MB «M 

LH tiM T«»w4 to «f>v ■• Mr, 

WiMt ««• »• Ikt ff%p 9^ Tiir 

Oh, k»^> jiv MB llw T««d «Wli Ito w 
Aad tiM Mn fMB^A tht il^ «!* « 


BBlfirfe awvHi yt MMB hH, 
Oh, gM bMk aad loaki«Bla 

^xxn foe tl)f HHsftUiM* 

[AxBBBW Pabb^-Mb* tf «. ■wr.] 

BoBBAt Ibr Ih* WihlMKli! th* tm tMMftii 

llMhMW or th» ihMflWB, lh« hMB, aB« Ih* ft«k 

IwlfciyJoBn^yiWB^thB hill Hill ■>. 

At 114 


IB Mi 

Tkth»lMid«r4MpdMidM, bT 

WImM Iht hBfltaMM rtfVli Ib BHfteMi «B 

For IkM II hM Bdfht IhBl «» war t 

Ib th« wUd dloy dUk Itet BM dMHBff Ikt riv* 
Thsa hBHBi t« the HifhtaBdi» Mi 

€bt Biiiits Bit yuii. 



OVB MlV kB« BB «% to B BMH, 

nm Itm tkM «h» ■■■Q pliwi pNMkvt 

O, M «M i^. i^l O, M VMilr M« rfMkilt 

BBtBB^VBVB kailBf li 4i7 BBia M k* tmMk 

W« towM l«ai« Mr. MHMk, 

W« pBii kkn arr M BBi «r 1047 1 

TB «r pBt kkB bbOM oal «r ika ka^T' 


I «kMi M^, Mi flMMI Bi B*, 
«Bi4 IV BBi BM> bAW kkB * 



Tkaft •• kMT Mm fBBf ttMB|h«>rBa 
Wat. (tka^h B «M tfiy BB lh« wh«IM 
A« BrfMkliw^ Ik* «M «B MbbbI Bfl 


BbI to BM* I* «» hMrt o* Um nM~ 

Th« dalBtr kM »toa UmU «• ptoitad 
Wm to |M a BihMlpdoB aflt. 


Tka yoBiv MMB k* or Ik* klA, 
9r kn* hal a kBBd hi MllMia« I 

Birt Miv took Ik* tok 0^ «k« «afk, 
Aad Ik* ifOBbI* Ik* tM C dliiiil^ 




A gran' watch was gotten belyve, ^ 

for a soft and gentle wind ! 

And May, wi' sma; prigging conscntit 

I heard a fair one cry ; 

To be ane o' a party o' five 

But give to me the swelling breeze. 

To gang to the manse and present it. 

And white waves heaving high. i 

0, we were sly, sly ' <Scc. 

The white waves heaving high, my lads. 

The good ship tight and free— i 

We a* gied a word o' advice 

The world of waters is our home. 

To May in a deep consultation, 

And merry men are we. 

To ha'e something to say unco nice. 

And to speak for the hale deputation. 

There's tempest in yon honied moon. 

0, we were sly, sly ! &c. 

And lightning in yon cloud; 
And hark the music, mariners ! 

Taking present and speech baith in hand. 

The wind is wakening loud. | 

May delivered a bonnie palaver. 

The wind is wakening loud, my toys, j 

To let Mr. M'Gock understand 

The lightning flashes free— j 

How zealous she was in his favour. 

The hollow oak our palace is, | 

0, we were sly, sly ! &c. 

Our heritage the sea. 1 

She said that the gift was to prove. 

That his female friends valued him highly. 

But it couldna express a' their love ; 

And she glintit her e'e at him slyly. 

0, we were sly, sly ! &c. 

JEg Umk miU. 

He put the gold watch in his fab. 

And proudly he said he would wear it ; 

[W. Millar.— Music by P. M'Leoi.] 

And, after some flattering gab. 

Tauld May he was gaun to be marryit. 

0, we were sly, sly ! 0, we were sly and sleekit ! 

Oh, weel I mind the happy days. 

But Mr. M'Gock was nae gowk, wi' our dainty 

The days o' youthfu' love and pride. 

bit plan to be cleekit. 

When "mang the glens and heath'ry braes, 
1 woo'd and won my bonnie bride; 

May came hame wi' her heart to her mouth. 

And weel I mind the blessed time. 

And became, frae that hour, a dissenter. 

When Hymen wove the nuptial spell. 

And now she's renewing her youth 

And waken'd joys whilk few but they 

Wi' some hopes o' the burgher pi-ecentor. 

Far, far an' owre in heav'n can tell. 

0, but she's sly, sly ! 0, but she's sly and sleekit ! 

And cleverly opens ae door as soon as another is 

My bonnie wife— the charm C Ufe, 


She's man- than India's gowd to me; 
Oh ! blessings on my bonnie wile, 
I'U like her till the day I dee. 

fl 5®e4 #m« 

She's aye sae blythe when I come hame, 
Sae glad o' e'e, sae sweet o' mou'. 
The saft voice o' my couthie dame 

[Am/An Cunningham.] 

Is kinder than the turtle's coo. 

A WKT sheet and a flowing sea, 

And then she's aye sae gude and meek 

A vkdnd that follows fast. 

That angel's e'en her hejixt might see ; 

And fills the white and rustling sail, 

I think its maistly for her sake 

And bends the gallant mast. 

Contentment likes to dwell wi' me. 

And bends the gallant mast, ray boys. 

When gay young frien's come down the gate, 

WhUe like the eagle free, 

Or aiblins been auld birkie's ca'. 

Away the good ship flies, and leaves 

Our wee bit cot she mak's sae neat. 

■f It's no that unco-like ava : 


Ifarfcw— iffcipfcr ili liii l mm 

A VowfroalktMMaWB'feloi^bm*. 


TWni m m IMM 1— If fcit fcMl n g fc t 


n* •!« ar joy Hgkft ap IMT •%> 

Aad ft* tfMT* gwl* iMT portlM b^ 

Aad «lNa tte m 9^ M IW <lo«a, 

And «iidlMiiava» Ih* wHi atooa, 
Mak* IMT tte iHppiMi «^ tfM UmI. 
JiybWMil»» l> iU tk mm trm, 
Bw^ BHir ttaa ladtam fowtf to ■% 
Oil I biMiiafi «■ vqr borate wiftk 

^t I,tM 0* flttiiitfniif . 

(TAWtiiwiii Mii^ty». A. WmMk Iiim 


Jbilf'l fait sit^ fa«^* 


ifMIHl i lll .»Jl l ll lW% Ml 

tolly HMt thaM, !■ ft Btllili 
Fab loM MMBg 


▲l* M*«M «» BM, WhMI fMft t» ikM, 

Tun WOT f^ n Irii fi — n 1*" 
J«i> n> Ming >Mk Mid b— 

Aat»ammi»f hm fcgr oay. 

Aad I ba>i tiM aiy «■»■* 4H»t 
Prt II iiMi« li >t ^iftdn ewr. 


O I iii.lBw^— — fcirl 



ia r aur and fiV tteft toif MaiTt 
Th» fl<m<r o' Aiia nlMi i 

■rtk ikjr voir bowv, 
!**• Mt ftt twiltiht boor. 

W* fBvt osr ■ 



But why should I sigh. 

^ For a' that, and a' that ; 

The summer is nigh. 

They're dear to me, for a' that. 

And the birds sing again from the tree ! 

1 lo'e them still, and ever will. 

The roses shall bloom. 

Though ane did jilt, and a' that. 

And the soft breezes soon 

Bhall waft him again from the sea. 

Thou bright star of night. 

Oh! guide him aright: 

From dangers my Jamie keep free. 

W^z '^imm'^ 'Mim. 

Now of wealth I've a store. 

He shall wander no more. 

I«'e'er again shall he sail on the sea. 

[Bt John Jack, Rutherglen.] 
How dear to me yon broomy knowe. 

By a' the places roun'. 
The birdies there ha'e blyther notes. 

il %u$$k §K\X. 

The burn a sweeter soun'; 
The hawthorn bush blooms richer far. 
The flowers appear mair gay. 

[Captain Charles Gray, R. M.— Air, " For 

And nature wears a brighter hue. 

a' that, and a' that."] 

On yonder broomy brae. 

A Lassie fair— the deil-may-care — 

There first I tauld my artless love, 

A nee lichtlied me and a' that. 

And met a kind return ; 

And though I'm poor, you may be sure. 

There first I preed my lassie's mou' 

I didna like to claw that; 

Beside the wimplin' burn : 

For a' that, and a* that. 

I'm hearty still for a' that, 

At hour o* gloamin' grey. 

1 gat the slight, I took it light. 

I gang to meet my ain dear lasa. 

And that's the way to thraw that. 

On yonder broomy brae. 

Gif they should nick you wi' this trick. 


Ne'er break your heart and a' thai, 1 

Just c;lower about, you'll find ane out. 

Will ease your pain and a' that; 
And a' that, and a* that. 

(SIiDioim^ EEi^nter. 

Your sighs and sabs, and a' that. 

6ae never dwine about ae quean. 

[This fine sopg w{u written by Tannahili. 

There's plenty yet for a' that! 

about the year 1808, and the music arranged by 
E. A. Smith from what was considered an old 

Nane but a fool spurns nature's rule. 

air, called "Lord Balgonie's Favourite." The 

To love and wed, and a' that ; 

editor, however, of Albyn's Anthology (Alexan- 

Or gin a lass to him proves fause. 

der Campbell) afterwards claimed the air as his 

Tak's to his bed, and a' that ; 


And a' that, and a' that. 

Nae doctor's drugs, and a' that. 

Gloomy winter's now awa', 

"Will ever prove a cure for love. 

Baft the westlin' breezes blaw: 

Like kiss again, and a' that I 

'Mang the birks o' Stanley-shaw 
The mavis sings fu' cheerie, 0. 

Gif I can find ane to my mind. 

Sweet the craw-fiower's early bell 

My heart and hand, and a' that, 

Decks Gleniffer-8 dewy dell. 

To her 1 11 gi'e, h^it^ ft^nk and free. 

Blooming like thy bonnie sel'. 

They're my delight for a* that; ^ 

} Wy young, my artless dearie, 0. 


OiittTTUM 80N0& 


■ n«bi««te,0. 

rmlklj temOKM frtoff* tlM reck^ 
▲■4 Bn tlili« h chMrti, 0> 

Jogr to OM tlMJ CMM Mi«. 

rr««««<iM—«iiii g ii i ii**fw imM i f i 

L*4dto," vlikh «w «at to M aM toMi U«L ar 

wMd^ Mac Mi toM, at* MV mMT totaolMB. 
tiM bwtkMi «rilH OTlttoy •««§»■ tkMt 

WlM I «M iick ••< lft» to Aw 
Ito i«*^ ■» to kli BlfklMii fWili.'' 
Bamm V wreto ««• wto or ww^i to II 

«JM*'TlMBltiaMi4LMri*.** Aa ft n lM i w 
•IM ar tkt lattor wm aftor«af<4. paUMkad. to 
wUali Dr. Aim, tka ■■ l >> w itoi l «y i i i | | i ii i . m« 
M«r MMtob Dr. An**^ tna k tka «M 


"TltoPawat," 0771^) i 
««ll4ma«a waadfa^ toglaMBg. 

*' Ah. iBf« a pair «aa M«ar ««.•* fta.1 

Taa Lawtond kMto ihlak thif ara laa* 
Bat O ! thiTM MiB and M^ faadr t 

A in w«f« frM at win to 
To to tlw ■■ailMl 
IM toll' yaai^ PiaaM arWfcct twa, 



TW toaaatt baaa la Wtraaa toav. 

la »• lite ain. ari* art, laad* iwJy. 
Ctoaparvd to Mm, Ws bat a atoara. 

Ha^ iav ftr to ^ laftaa pWdla. 

OW toatj hfll wf kto< III fw, 
AadlMvaaifl ' 

A patotod laaa, aad iflhM ted. 

Majr piMa* a Lawtoad laird aad ladr I 
Bat I aaa kki aad to M glad 

Biktod a kadh to ^ BlgMBad plaldla. 
O toy >— k, *a 

I M* ktoi ^ daw BltMaad laddla, 
Aad ka tot M kb laarlaad la«, 

Km juafJBy IH a^ pNtoad. 

Tltoa Ikat kk toto prava traa I 

lAt atoa to kka. wkMi M^ il 


)3oniiU Gtof gf fftmplitll. 

(Baoarsaaa Itoai tia d ltl ew lif tUm Flaky. 
aatkarafWaBaaa.* Amofid ftroaa tka aid 

BM aptoi BMwd*, md Wih «pea Taj. 


au liii— k lllgklaB 
Mjkaaflaaai, rtainnNr "V^«-^«-^^«^ || Aad aat aaato kk >— a k wMfc wr 
MvkwfaaatiBdMfd. and lava lawatd. 1) " My ■aadoar Mm pa^. aad ayj 
Tka Lavtoad to»aad kar ll%kkad toddb% ^ By liani k to haBd, aad ay tokM 


^ Rob Mat^regor'B come again I 

M^l JEaicgfegor* 

Rob Macgregor's come again . 
We'll get back the days that's gane, 
Rob Macgregor's come again ! 

IWrittkn by D. Thomson of Galaahiels.— Air, 


Robin Roy's caught at last. 
Bring the wuddie, baud him fast ; 

Rob Macgrkoor's come again. 

Robin loups and takes the i.ver. 

Ilka ane tliought dead and gane ; 

Lost for ance, and lost for ever; 

By a wizard's cantrip slight. 

Jouking up and jouking down. 

Rob again has seen the light. 

Like an otter swam the loon ! 

He appears in a' his glory. 

Rob has baffled a' the guard. 

Laughing baith at Whig and Torj- ; 

No sneaked aff like Donald Caird. 

Rob's a chief o' some regard. 

Rob Macgregor's aff again ! 

Ko a scamp like Donald Caird. 

Rob Macgregor's aff again ! 

Rob Macgregor's come again ! 

Highland blood, and Highland bane ! 

Rob Macgregor's come again ! 

Rob Macgregor's ne'er been ta'eni 

Think ye does the shirra ken. 

Rob Macgregor's back again. 


Bars o' iron and bolts o' steel 

Yield to Rob, for Rob's a deil ; 
Glasgow jail it canna hand him. 

^au!^^ '^ait^» 

Ko a beagle dares to daud him. 

Rob has keys to ilka prison. 

[Air, " Donald Caird."] 

Turnkey cousins by the dozen; 

Borough bailies and their guard 

Shrink afore the Highland laird. 

Baui-dy Baird's come again. 

Rob Macgregor's come again ! 

Bauldy Baird's come again, 

Rob Macgregor's come again • 

Tell the news through brugh and glen. 

Lawland bodies pay your kain. 

Bauldy Baird's come back again ! 

Rob Macgregor's come again. 

Bauldy Baird can buy and seU 

Robin's wife's a wife o' mettle. 

Barrels o' herring, and lades o' meal ; 

Weel she guards auld Scotland's kettle ; 

Cheat till the guidman be poor. 

Nought to Helen is a prize 

And pouch till the guidwife look sour; 

Like an imp of the excise ! 

Laugh and clatter, curse and ban. 

A' the Highland hills in chorus. 

Tell a lee wi' ony man. 

Sing the dirge of ganger Morris, 

Tell the news to a' you ken, 

A' the pack might weel be spared. 

That Bauldy Baird's come again. 

Reavers waur than Donald Caird. 

Rob Macgregor's come again ! 

Bauldy Baird can drink, I trow. 

Rob Macgregor's come again ! 

Till a' the bodies roun' be fou ; 

Lomonds wild are a' his ain. 

Ilka ane that shares his bicker. 

We're fain to see him back again. 

Kens how Bauldy pays his liquor. 
When your fou, he's on the catch : 

Rob Macgregor dealt in cattle. 

He'll buy your blankets, corn, or watch. 

But to pay them was a battle ; 

Ye sharpers a', though London-rear'd, 

Robin took a shorter plan. 

Are a' but cuife to Bauldy Baird. 

Clear'd the marches like a man. 

Now he's king o' hill and dale. 

Bauldy Baird can brag o' gambling, 

A' the Lennox pays black mail. 

Kens the airts o' dark dissemblin,:^. 

Soger lads be on your guard. 

Bauldy Baird can mak' a ten. 

ye are nu catching Donald Caird. { 

', To cut the Jack, an' Catch -tl^-ten. 




in ft* MM ID BMUir BiM. 

Oi ilo» ttol Jit ftw^ ilMt Ifcl jrti. 

Sloala o^ «irD, aad ifcMVM 9^ pi 

Ob atal4y Hypl Ik* b» «M vflB, 
T» 4MV Mb oa a otft te>Ul t 

Itaii kt rilpt tht loop aad WltlM bwgl* I 
O^ Ite dft* Ml' tbfoivlilk* MX 

For BmI47 BMvIIi nui ft«m*. 


n ■ATmu Jeekli boo aitB*, 
H«tk« Jodit BOO •»»• I 

I call MB «nr al bMBBfiilDBai 



B«lkOT JoA «M MMfe Bad |f^ 

PkacM «f B' wbbM kakt wl* hteui 






Took a ihedN «B 4f» a«B* I 
▲a* a* ikB waaaa Ml prtBlii fl 

Par Bt tk* ptlMl k* tkmn^ Mi MM 
n« waaaa Bif a pBM Bir pMQT, 
Bat 9kr« Mb ftPM « SMalk 4ir 
Bokkrd tka kM iT kBM Mi4 kaak. 

llMM «ri«* BOaM «M» a « 
TlBi^lkrMiM kiMlkinaii 
Bb «aMbM «» bM «arin al 
JLad kM«M IkB kw«B ki Mmi 

nw kMl or MBar4kBl bM kkMk-BMk. 
▲jB mMi IkB knr« BT HMikM JBdL 

VbbB «r JBife IMI MV iV. 

At tfM BiA«* or aadfrf plv, 
JbA kr kBH av kM BW ikiM, 



V^ 8Bf atif Vo^. 


Tkr aaM kadiH kariii«rfa I 

WmI IB Briad to BMBli^ iwr, 


For he was kent balth far and wide. 
For he could den and he could hide. 

\ mmik mn^dttuil 

And cadge wha like the kintra thro'. 

JS'ane could cadge like him, I trow. 

1 rKitPATRicK.— Air, " Lassie wi' the lint-white 

The weaiie body, &c. 


Lang did they curse his soupple legs. 

Queer Willie Waggletail, 

When he ran aff wi' hens and eggs. 

The auld farrant donnart body. 

The wives would cry, the dell be int. 

He fed me aye on lang kail. 

If L hinna lost my tait C lint; 

Soups 0' broo, and draps o' crowdie ; 

And then they'd rue his freenly gills. 

Cream scones three times a-year; 

That gart them aft to sign his bills. 

Whey to cool the bluid in simmer; 

And mony a wearie wicht, I trow. 

British wine the saul to cheer. 

Paid dear enough for gettin' fou. 

Wi' swats that reamed aboon the timmer. 

The wearie body, &c. 

At last he thocht to save his neck. 

Though Willie Waggletail's awa'. 

His gear '11 mak' me blythe and bonnie : 

He hied him aff to cauld Quebec, 

Come ower the burn, sweet Johnnie Faa ; 

And there set up the grocer trade. 

For wha has cheeks sae red as Johnnie ? 

And many a pauky trick he play'd; 

Come to my arms, my Johnnie Faa, 

But Yankie he was nae sic fool. 

I'll daut ye late and bkss ye early; 

He dipp'd the cadger in the pool. 

Our lairds ha'e doft their bonnets braw, 

And for fear he would their country stain. 

To fight for Scotland and Prince Charlie. 

They kickit the body back again. 

The wearie body, &c. 

As Johnnie Faa gaed ower the bum. 

i had you seen sic consternation, 

He sung unto himsel' fu' cheerie,— 

Ilk fhce was mark'd wi' pale vexation ; 

Uech ! things ha'e ta'en an awfu' turn. 

And young and auld aUke complain. 

Sin' Luckie Waggletail's my dearie; 

Is the wearie body back again ? 

My heart loups licht, and vow I'm fain. 

The shuttle chocked in the shed. 

To think upon the jig that's coming , 

The list'nin' tailor brak' his thread ; 

But, as sure as death, I maist think shame 

The Wright, wi' spite, threw by his plane. 

To marry Willie Wagtail's woman. 

Is the body really back again ? 

The wearie body, &c. 

The sturdy mason drapp'd his mell, 

'E'f}2 WiunUx, 

The blacksmith's big fore-hammer fell ; 

The cannie nurse let fa* the wean — 

Losh ! woman, d'ye think he's back again ' 

[Air, " The green purse."] 

The chattin' barber cut the face. 

The auld guidman forgat the grace. 

I ha'k a green purse and a wee pickle gowd. 

Na ! the lasses wadna lie their lane. 

A bonnie piece Ian' an' a plantin' on't. 

Sin' e'er they heard o' him back again. 

It fattens my flocks, an' my barns it has stow'd. 

The wearie body, &c. 

But the best thing o' a's yet a- wan tin' on't. 

Weel may Scotland greet wi' spite. 

There's a but and a ben, a stable, a byre. 

And gi'e the Yankies a' the wite. 

A guid kale yard and a weel snecket yett. 

That wadna let the wicht remain. 

Wi' plenty o' peats to throw o' the fire. 

But pest us wi' him back again ; 

But the best thing o' a's a wantin' yet. 

For weel I wat they kent fu' weel. 

A rogue like him was just a deil ; 

I thought o" a wife for ten years and mair. 

They raicht had mair respect for men. 

But nane will answer that stops herrabont. 

Than sent the body back again. 

And I ha'e nae time to gang here and there; 

The wearie body, &c. i 

i A wauter I am, and I'll bide sae, I doubt. 


AboMblBMVirilriAfwBKtdapHilMl, Aj 

8» r«» «aM ov telri •wnvMl «• al Mir I 

l-a tak* «p Hv balk, and in rf» IB aiy ilial . 
Wl'H^NdaMii^^.aqrcat.aiidaqrcal^, { Thmf^ If ai«a ll*fMn»» «w laM «f 1 
OeafUrf and ahwrth*, tba^ ^ai^y a«< —h 

A May MM «■!■ af «OT« MM* MM v^ 
Ban «Mt Mi iMg an[^ aad WS ^« I 

t Ara, «* nii llayli ismMcs throotli OlaavBw.") 

Ta Mi wMU IM btiMiid af Iris imm\im» & MUtrnt, 
WlMA ha «a» a aodfv «r QaOTtta «M TMnI I 

Aai toil Mi MllvJail a «aa «%rllHy fa(B. 

laai. aad l» lan K plar UMd. 
i«MM-»aTO«r, Hkfeaal^ a|« M Um 

Aad DeMM ka tml M Mi iM* Ml tfM yW. 
Hat «p «r Ika UNtoaaiM kaMi 

Tkn « «» a glMa. M aa ka^ » |bM «M|kt art, 
OvaMMrlUr»>wil* k^ •»•>« la kM» 

▲ai *a kal tfir toaa Aal «mM tqr to tof 

MurfliHiilitoi^ilaiaikaalaotlattkaPMia— . 

awl kaat ikM wkaM trtad la a ka«K 1^ tokO I 
fWaTllitoaairtkaartiiaflwMyrakiNBK fl •- — < — ^.'^ ^* aaat Atkato ktmm la tka 

»ar waal I altoii Haa a nM a^ kaitty awaL 
tea af wf Ika MMi^ *a. 

Hk ataftM a^ 4ai«w, kh taaaMn aai trih I 
My klatra, ki artMt. b aqr kaartli «Miaal tMMM, 

Aad Maiy.llMa^aast. •» I li^ tkv aOlHBitoa. 
Thla fasr kafpjr aoapto^ Ikair haoaaa aatawi 

Aad tka atara attar taackid lkilrm«lluk 
ValHaarkiaapaflkniaa alappad la wfMia 

UI8 Aibnts* 

(Bar. lam I 
aaltoaaarklikatllatoi ■aaaya Amtif alMr IM 

Taa Saaaa aad tka Vonaaaa woaM Uf tka t 

I FMMk l iii l a y ia ari78i.] 

Taaaa Uvea a haite aa tka Maa^ 

Oi tat ikTi a kaaala maaiaia 1 
Thtf aa* kar liar L^kartr. 

Tkwa^ anar aaala araalag ai kar. 


Her xnither wears a plettit mutch ; w YeTe weel, and wats nae, as we say. 

Her father is an honest dyker. 

In getting leave to dwell beside her; 

An' she hersel's a daintie quean. 

And gin ye had her mair your ain, 

Ye winna shaw me monie like her. 

Ye'd maybe find it waur to guide her. 

Wooing at her, &c. 

Wooing at her, &c. 

A pleasant lass she's kent to be. 

Ah ! Lawrie, ye've debauch 'd the lass. 

^Vi' fouth o' sense an' smeddum in .ler; 

Wi' vile new-fangled tricks ye've play'd ner; 

There's no a swankie far or near. 

Depraved her morals ;— like an ass. 

But tries wi' a' his might to win her. 

Ye've counted her, and syne betray'd her. 

Wooing at her, &c. 

Wi* hanging of her, burning of her 
Cutting, hacking, slashing at her; 

But sweet and pleasant as she is. 

Bonnie Lizy Liberty, 

She winna thole the marriage tether. 

May ban the day ye ettled at her. 

But likes to rove and rant about. 

Like highland couts amang the heather. 

Wooing at her, &c. 

It's seven years, and somewhat mair, 

Sin' Matthew Dutch made coartship till 


A merchant bluff, ayont the burn. 

Wi' heaps o' breeks an* bags o' siller. 

r.A BALLAD of the Forty-five, written, com- 

Wooing at her, &c. 

posed, and dedicated to the Clan, by Miss Ross.j 

The next to him was Baltic John, I 

Stept up the brae and ke'tket at her. 

Banners are waving o'er Morven's dark heath. 

Syne turn'd as great a fool's he came. 

Claymores are flashing from many a sheath ; 

And in a day or twa furgat her. 

Hark ! 'tis the Kathering. On, onward ! they cry; 

Wooing at her, &c. 

Far flies the signal to conquer or die. 
Then follow thee, follow a boat to the sea. 

Now Lawrie French has ta'en the whim. 

Thy Prince in Glen Moidart is waiting for thee. 

To toss his airs, and frisk about her , 

Where war-pipes are sounding and banners are 

And Malcolm Fleming puffs and swears 


He disna value life without her. 

Maclaiue and his clansmen the foremost you'll 

Wooing at her, &c. 


They've casten out wi' a' their kin. 

Wildly the war-cry has startled yon stag. 

Thinking that wad gar them get her ; 

And waken'd the echoes of Gillian's lone crag ; 

Yet after a' fush they've ta'en. 

Up hill and down glen each brave mountaineer 

They maybe winna be the better. 

Has belted his plaid and has mounted his spear. 

Wooing at her, &c. 

Then foUow thee, &c. 

But Donald Scot's the happy Lad, 

The signal is heard from mountain to shore. 

Wha seems to be the coshest wi' her; 

1 They rush like the flood o'er dark Con-y-vohr , 

lie never fails to get a kiss. 

The war-note is sounding, loud, wildly, and high. 

As aften as he likes to see her. 

Louder they shout. On, to conquer or diel 

Wooing at her, &c. 

Then follow thee, &c. 

But Donald, tak' a friend's advice. 

The heath-bell at mom so proudly ye trod, 

Although 1 ken ye fain wad ha'e her. 

Son of the mountain 1 now covers thy sod ; 

F'eii just be doing as ye are. 

Wrapt in your plaid, "mid the bravest ye iie, 

And haud wi' what ye're getting frae her. 

; Tlie words as ye fell still conquer or die. 

VV ooing at her, &c. f 

K Then tbllow thee, &c. 

280 aooTTUB toao& 

eb. taiif ttf to son %nnm^ Mi. 

[iMcmT Oitntnii MMh tf J. auriMB.] 

Oiil«BteMiofMMMqrW»thMfltaii4ikil . 

For tbM<^ an loMlr. 1 MV ««^ rfM* tarn Btr M MM tei 
Th« m««rB>« rodv akM dnn iMv av n«iMl airf an «w, 
Bt on H il r ii l i n ii Jtoy Wi^> alil — > w>, aol 

ini tmadw ly tfft «»»ik«i^ «r«H«b tW i«d7 MMp^ 
Aad liM to CMM MMnMMlat Ik* nmlt or tiM dMT t 

B«t »IMI Ikt «ft MM igMi «to ««f» te CVWl^f^ rflfW gto». 
ttidl IIM7 MM M •»«* Mi l^te? akl BM. M» Ml 

in ipMk ariMrl* vmy tM«r. aM IM^ IMM av» IkMw 
TlMgrn MMV b* tow ikdr kn4i aa4 «Mp^ ftrika, Hk» Hmw «M 
Aad tmy Mm ni tMk a aNc a pktethw Mi« «r wM^ 
Bat Maiy caaaai toar t to lf M i ala« ?-ali ! aOkBa^Ml 

Slow Mai* tiM Ha a-«o«a tlw Ay. a* Mk •• pan wMk ^. 
Bat ahy mom »Uk MiaOtac ««I0» itoa fMkt Mb krtk M pvf 
T«t Marr* «• iM Mskt aa« Mr. aiii aM Ikal an b IM, 
ttall Mi Mr taaa •>» ffM» Mm MM ^ ak I M, aa, Ml 

Bat I aMi riM4 Ika kMiM IHT. IM Maiy mA av Mat 

Tto MMai gMM Mv toMk Bv kMt, tot M rfMB lk«ir tkM I 
t n MM Mlpitto MMMvi Mrita. ta kMi a^ ImmH M% 

I «>MMaO«kaMk«Mi»klkM«M-akl M^M^Ml 

CM'PBAn^-Vtoib " Tto BaraiHi.") 

O aAMT, ka^fqr « _^ _^ 

Tto kaaMljr awMti. tto naM Jaw «r aaU laapgrM^ 
Wtoa Oto aM art* MMd^ glMT aad Mfdlal kMt «■« JMi^ 
Va pMfi wf MM'ahip lad aa< tM tto 4mi ^ lai««M. 

Bow lid tto Jofi tkat M to> Ma, a' aaM iaac^M, 
WhM kappsr aA M baiih toM toM, ki iai» v* lH«vMi 
Btttl Oto fcMM- liadar iOMa, »!• 4Mr Mlfkt M adB', 

"-*'"*"• I riki ikijii'haMai 

amOtolbraMr.fcab ^^ 

Row i«Mt tto fcad MdMHiw ctoMM a^ mM knpfM^ 
Wl* iMaJttai ■a]r|Mtklk*anii^ la aa|a^lai«4FMi 
la laptaia iNMid b« tbrekM^ bMit wT flowtes to«a la niaa, 
rto* bappjr koan Am o>r arl* Mto la d«|a «^ toiWM. 
la laptttia pf««^d, ht. 


Amang our native woods and braes how pleasant the time. 
To pu' for her I loo'd sae dear the primrose in its prime : 
Then fairer bloom'd ilk bonnie flower, mair sweet the birds did sing. 
When wi' the lass I dearly lo'ed, in days o' langsyne. 
Then fairer bloom'd, &c. 

Nae mair amang our bonnie glens we'll garlands entwine. 
Nor pu' the wild-flower by the burn, to busk my lassie fine ; 
Nae mair upon yon sunny knowe we'll mark the sun decline. 
Nor tell the tender tales that pleased in days o' langsyne. 
Nae mair upon, &c. 

But still through life we'll happy be, at fate ne'er repine: 
Though warldly cares, at times, should thiaw, we'll ne'er our pleasure j ne j 
While seated here, in frien'ly glow, wi' hearts an' ban's we join. 
And bring again, wi' cantie glee, the days o' langsyne. 
While seated here, &c. 

[William Motherwell. — Music by R. A. Smith.] 

Oh wae be to the orders that marched my.Iuve awa'. 
And wae be to the cruel cause that gars my tears doun fa' ! 
Oh wae be to the bluidy wars in Hie Germanic, 
For they ha'e ta'en my luve, and left a broken heart to me 

The drums beat in the mornin' afore the scnech o' day. 

And the wee wee fifes piped loud and shrill, while yet the morn was gre" } 

The bonnie flags were a' unfurl'd, a gallant sight to see. 

But waes me for my sodger lad tliat mai ched to Germanic. 

Oh, lang, lang is the travel to the bonnie Pier o' Leith, 
Oh dreich it is to gang on foot wi' the snaw drift in the teeth' 
And oh, the cauld wind froze the tear that gather'd in my e'e. 
When I gade there to see my luve embark for Germanic ! 

I looked ower the braid blue sea, sae lang as could be seen 

Ae wee bit sail upon the ship, that my sodger lad was in ; 

But the wind was blawin' sair and snell, and the ship sailed speedilie. 

And the waves and cruel wars ha'e twinn'd my winsome luve frae me, 

I never think o' dancin', and I downa try to sing. 

But a' the day I spier what news kind neibour bodies bring; 

1 sometimes knit a stocking, if knittin' it may be. 

Syne for every loop that I cast on, I'm sure to let doun three. 

My father says I'm in a pet, my mither jeers at me. 

And bans me for a dautit wean, in dorts for aye to be; 

But little weet they o' the cause tliat drumles sae my e'e: 

Oh they ha'e nae winsome luve like mine in the wars o' Gennaniol 



■lip—iJ la**TlM B«p or BMtevdUn.* »ia>- 

tfwiftly M glUM tiM tfMk HA VMr, 

Wlqr bMT. |« «»««,» bMi ft MiM, 
Wlqr «■&• |i» wtotfs, * lig M i k^m. 

Wak». artlni n^d, Ikr dnMB li ofW, 
If o btlfkt^Btei kof" «■■ gM •»«MrrDV» 

Thy low kalli • dIrtBsi tlMi*, 

K«rlhtek» flf tkM te IB ai»Oiiik 

Tht meoa li a^ ttM hmMm^ fOM. 

4 T1w«»Mtt*«tawItoi^pe«^ 
Mm UmIi'«. Mii •• I tmmr H 




0>w pa^arld V0WM «r lilUilni kr««r. 
Ton, MtklHi wMid^ wk Oro'k v«d. 
To j^ t Bi B iBiw tfc» B i ll liB^ mnwm, 

CoM, ooM, dM riBhi IB 4Mlt OtaMllM 

Tbt BMOB hMp palo «^ OnB«» MMf^ 

ABd HMi B iMflH BMliMI ilgMBi. 

TkO MlkB BlghMrtB^i. OBMTB^I. ilHf, 

A« Mk to IBM o%r bhMm 4!ylBt. 
TiM ha* oTdMlk IMM UmA>« Ik* Hp, 

TlH vo^ ohMk b polo wtth OHnw, 
Xf* OMTB, 4hBik« oMIr ka*' •ik*0 "IIP 



flk* ipolM. dM iMlkM M VAo Wr>d. 
T««.alll kwMMwaoABBB'klMutt 

B«v fta^kl «Mk !■■•, kaop Irii oTaffftl 


O to* *M «ori, Mr CkvlkB'* lulu. 

for OMT awgr HMt fBBg kt tkhw, 
Wklik Biy OBi kaon ■» oft tfoik toL 


fiPfi Itifi toM foft. 

tlAfl» ToBS or Fkl<q 4lr, •• Wte« alb 



-Air, •* To iBBkiaad btBM).- bo.] 

O fabb Ikoo wool, bb GkrtkB^ Mi^ 

For o«or, ooor bio tkoo whI I 
VpoB tky hBBki I>i oft o^»of^ 

WlMft TbtBOM l0«0 OlOBO OBB biL 

Wltk Abbb Bi 1 badly oinqrM, 

Tho Ttici Uao, tko prkBTOoi ffif , 
Kattek^d tkojoyftil btay HMO. 

Th» ooa ted Ht, tko 1 




Tba I OMO bBdo wlik ><]r, 


WbHB «« ««• «aM to lay. 

iiiiiiibba^li aHHwikli^ algkti m TkB»ltb | lHB Wrt k 


Yet none shall hear the sigh ^ Eeinembrance broods still on the horr, 

That struggles to be free. 

WTien first witliin yon lonely bovver. 

No tear shall ti-ace this sallow cheek. 

I felt the love-enslaving power 

Nor murmur burst from me. 

Of thy sweet chai-ms, my dearie, 0. 

Though silent be my woe. 

'Tis not the less severe — 

Forlorn I brood on former joys 
To love and mem'ry dear. 

Im ^lammei!:* 

She minds na o* the vows 

[Written by Burns for Johnson's Museum, 

That seal'd our youthful love, 

The air is an old one, and is called *' The Country 

But heaven has records that will last. 


My faith and truth to prove. 

In summer, when the hay was mawn. 
And corn wav'd green in ilka field. 

While clover blooms white o'er the lea. 
And roses blaw in illia bield ; 

?^©to arlratlg. 

Blythe Bessie in the milking shiel'. 

Says, I'll be wed, come o't what will. 
Out spak' a dame in wrinkl'd eil'. 

[James Yoor,.— Air, "My Nannie, 0."] 

O' gude advisement comes nae ill. 

How ardently my bosom glows 

'Tis ye ha'e wooers mony a ane. 

Wi' love to thee, my dearie, 0, 

And, lassie, ye're but young ye ken. 

My panting heart its passion shows. 

Then wait a wee, and canny wale 

Whenever thou art near me, 0. 

A routhie but, a routhie ben : 

The sweetness o' thy artless smile. 

There's Johnnie o' the Busky Glen, 

Thy sparkling e'e's resistless wile. 

Fu' is his barn, fu' is his byre; 

Gars sober reason back recoil. 

Talc' this frae me, my bonnie hen. 

Wi' love turn'd tapsalteerie, 0. 

'Tis plenty beets the lover's fire. 

Thy lips, sure seats o' sweet delight. 

For Johnnie o' the Buskie Glen 

Wha e'er may hafiins see them, 0, 

I dinna care a single flee; 

ilaun be a cauldrife, lifeless wight. 

He lo'es see weel his craps an' kye. 

Shou'd he no try to pree them, ; 

He has nae love to spare for me . 

To me thou ever shalt be dear. 

But blythe's the blink o' Robie's e'e. 

Thy image in my heart 1 11 wear, 

And weel I wat he lo'es me dear; 

Contentment's sun my day shall cheer. 

Ae blink o' him I wadna gi'e 

As lang's thou'lt be my dearie, 0. 

For Buskie Glen and a' his gear. 

Nae will-o'-wisp's delusive blaze. 

thoughtless lassie, life's a faught, 

Through fortune's fen sae drearie, 0. 

The canniest gate the strife is sair; 

Nor wealth, nor fame's attractive rays. 

But aye fu' han't is fechting best. 

irihall lure me frae my dearie, ; 

A hungry care's an unco care : 

But through the rural shady grove, 

But some will spend and some will spare. 

Owre flow'ry lea wi' thee I'll rove; 

And wllfu- folk maun ha'e then- will ; 

My cot shall be the seat o' love 

Syne as ye brew, my maiden fair. 

While life remains, my dearie, 0. 

Keep mind that ye maun drink the yill. 

The pleasing scenes of nature gay. 

O gear will buy me rigs C land. 

May charm the heart that's sairy, ; 

And gear will buy me sheep and kye. 

Yet even such scenes to me add wae. 

But the tender heart o' leesoii.e love. 

When absent frae my dearie, 0. f 

'-, The gowd and siller cjinna buy. 



Wa Mif %• pMT, laM* aai 1 1 

O0««Mit Mid lov* bfftafi PMM aad joy { 
Wkai aalr !»>• qonm ayoa a thiwM? 

9f)e VtrUt-iinotjt. 

(Tm k u aMdfad i 

i«r AloatM^ 
MMnm,'tai IIm brand lk\Atm dhriMl, ky aa 

«r Um KM* lala psbllt Npirtk] 

Bit tiM bank, Wir «H boralib 

n«y tlM >■■■!■ ta ili l Un til 
Tlflit and bMBte ««m Umj a', 

ftooM dbd la Mm, MM aM la POT*. 
Wl' gh a iia ' l ii M i i tm I t ill iiiiB. 
ABd flMwn ayaa tkilr aiBlilHalk 

r Mlk «MII' Ite WiVM a* «f • fiMHh 
And wl*ad tk* iMli liavpy diVil 
And mikl* llMakt llMy V IMT abiiW 

[Joit» ■ok-^Alr, •• Booala iM^a, 0."] 

O. WB aft ba** nwi at •■•B, beonl* Panft O, 
OB tte baaki oTOwi M* ft«a. bOMli P««i7.0, 

A Wkaa tiM klilr artMoa VHl. koaali ^my. 0), 
la kw AtfkOT f«to WM dMW taaida J^BT* O, 



IMB HHMBBdariBliOTkOTa, bMBtoKnjr.Ob 
» liw gabaf 11 n lB g bonw. I laali Kgy, O, 

W« haw* hwd la MkM dk, 

Widii tfc* «aM that HpfTd If . 

~ BT.O. 

Wktbl thoa lladilai awaM llv Iot^ taaala 

WWte Uty f«Wi^ ftnMat bMM* 
T» av bMliiW kHtt I prasM, 
««>v VM aHfftal hair w UhI. bsaafa P(fg7. O* 

Ko«r. atari tfMW MHM BM a^, baaaia riw7. (^ 
Vow.alMl waaMt ao amv baaala raggy, O, 


Wm wa Biart at ammar a***, 
OatkabaakaarQtft Ma »iaaa« baaala Paggx.O. 

THbadal Ibna baaa tww ta aw, baaala P>ngy, O, 
Aa I Mill ba^» baaa la tbaa, bOBBla PatO, O, 



Vit Smi)ftnP8 j^«tf»et. 


Aa ! laiBla. I Iklali «r a arfr btohaa baart. 

Ob tba Ittbl bapfv tbaa tbanaaa'i 
W b iBiB l a t yataayaarfc a d iBl l b a f ^ bB aa, 

Aa* fMrtlM aa* lliv*^~^* aMBUna,*^— 
Oa tha biKiM bang dap vbaa ya ptay^ aa tha 

Vbr tea baiyalftfbaaddla, baaala Panr.O. ^ 

Aa* wbaa I BByabad aiy taam I 
Aa* BWt BM ata'aa aaoaat baaM. 

O, tbaa X aaM bapnr. aa* tad a«M tbt bopra 

AAaliaa BM taUagly diaw I 
Tba tan ar iba flitaia tbaft ami aw at ttaa^ 

A* ted wbw X thachi apea yaat 



I thocht gin 1 liv'd to be helpless an' auld, 
Gin second childhood I should se«^— 

Should providence spare, 1 had ane growih' up. 
Wad then be a parent to me. 

r taught you betimes, as a father should do. 

The path o' true virtue to prize ; 
A n' as far as I could, wi' the precepts I gave, 

I gave you example likewise ; 
An' duly at morning an' even ng I pray'd. 

That gudeness wad aye be your guide- 
But ye've chosen to walk i' your ain wilfu' ways, 

And the blessing has yet been denied. 

Ye've left me to see that I've rested my hopes. 

On the perishing faith of a dream ; 
The dawn o" your promise— the day-spring o' 

Ye've clouded wi' sin an' wi' shame. 
Oh ! lassie, I think wi' a sair broken heart. 

On the licht happy time that's awa' ; 
When smiling ye sat on your fond mither's knee. 

An' prattl'd an' lisped—" mamma !" 

JE^ Jeatt"^ m^ Bin. 

[This very sensible ditty of a young maiden was 
first printed in Herd's collection of 1776. It is 
adapted to a tune called " We'll kick the world 
before us."] 

'Trs no very lang sinsyne, 

That I had a lad o' my ain ; 
But now he's awa' to anither. 

And left me a' my lane. 
The lass he is courting has siller. 

And I ha'e nane at a'. 
And 'tis nought but the love o' the tocher 

That's tane my lad awa'. 

But I'm blythe that my heart's my ain. 

And I'll keep it a' my life. 
Until that I meet wi' a lad, 

Wha has sense to wale a good wife. 
For though I say't mysel'. 

That should nae say't, 'tis true. 
The lad that gets me for a wife 

He'll ne'er ha'e occasion to rue. i 

I gang aye fu' clean and fu' tosh, 

As a' the neighbours can tell. 
Though I've seldom a gown on my back. 

But sic as I spin mysel' ; 
And when I'mi clad in my curtsey, 

I think mysel' as braw 
As Susie, wi' her pearling. 

That's tane my lad awa'. 

But I wish they were buckl'd thegither. 

And may they live happy for life ; 
Though Willie now slights me, an's left me. 

The chiel he deserves a gudewife. 
But, O ! I am blythe that I miss'd him. 

As blythe as I weel can be ; 
For ane that's sae keen o' the siller. 

Would never agree wi' me. 

But the truth is, I am aye hearty, 

I hate to be scrimpit or scant ; 
The wee thing I ha'e I'll mak' use o't. 

And there's nane about me shall want: 
For I'm a gude guide o' the warld, 

I ken when to haud and to gi'e ; 
But whinging and cringing for siller 

Would never agree wi' me. 

Contentment is better than riches. 

And he wha has that has enough ; 
The master is seldom sae happy 

As Robin that drives the plough. 
But if a young lad wad cast up. 

To mak' me his partner for life. 
If the chiel has the sense to be happy. 

He'll fa' on his feet for a wife. 

^a^ Bioit tie Mmh> 

[W. M'Laren.— First printed in "The Harp 
of Renfrewshire."] 

Though the winter of age wreathes her snow on 

his head. 
And the blooming effulgence of summer is fled. 
Though the voice that was sweet, as the harp' 

softest string. 
Be trem'lous, and low as the zephjTS of spring. 
Yet say not the Bard has turned old. 


t^i^yEtStiriU--'' rr.-i.--i — -•P.»-i-«€.i 

▲•tta -bBm or tiM »of« ankvilMsartiw ■ 

In ti- l-n «r kli cMifM A Mt-i iliM. 
I teM HriM at Ik* fkHM «r kto mVlwMi ira> 
tte Mm «r Ik* fMrt lHSk>i bMk to 

kt rilBfi ar tte valoRN- 4Mdi Itet — • 
ekMicryiakirfhitk«aM H l k » t — 10— , 



I la «k» MV. «r k- kMii «- lk» Ijmw 

TtoffMe Mi wad ty tkt tkMdw of kMVM. 
And -Blli •« tk* MBm« IT 
iMH-at Md d-r o^ tk 

k> <j» tkrt i]i| tk« -— ih or kii 


Aad iilMt kh k0p M tkt ffcMoiar tk* tnN«,<- 

A«u ■*. *• l-id «f ■— kit k-^ 

T» ««» ■- -M M «ai7 MM, 
■M ipM «r •• k- fw te kad 
B* aw* •• -H a diV «-!• lUfc 
A iBl «• HrtfM. M k* cr giM, 

Aad aaM «- grt -*>f » ■- 



Wr a* kk <MMNi« rfMi». aad Iq-. 
A la« «• Uytk*. *•. 

Wkan a* kli -Mldlr ■-» to M ? 
I tkal Ml n -ii l ii •»•'• 

Aad ■•, to Mof kk pik aad k«k, 
Wl- Jand* to d- kkk ii fl i^i. 
A kl ■- H|tk», ka. 


fTf^etf *# ttOttf to $Mt(f . 

(lAni Tooi^^Ak, * BMkk -m y-i i 





Or Hfkft tk* glo*» or dark da 
OA to Ik* -tadi ay trkf 1 kB, 

Tto dta—y •ik0% iMky aritf 
Xka» kM«« M taak at— *• t-^ 


The little wild bird's merry lay, ■^ Till then, let every chance unite, 

That wont my lightsome heart to cheer. 

To weigh our love, and fix delight. 

In murmuring tchoes dies away, 

And I'll look down on such wi' spite. 

And melts like sorrow on my ear. 

Who doubt that Robin lo'es me. 

The voice of joy no more can cheer. 

hey, Robin, quo' she. 

The look of love no more can warm, 

hey, Robin, quo' she. 

Since mute for aye's that voice so dear, 

hey, Robin, quo' she. 

And clos'd that eye alone could charm. 

Kind Robin lo'es me. 

'E>inU M^Mn h'H mt. 

Amid Loch Cat'rine's scenery wild. 
Is seen my Lassie's dwelling. 

[The old original words to the beautiful Scottish 

Where cavem'd rocks on mountains pil'd 

meludy or " Kind Robin lo'es me" are scarce fit 

Howl to the sea-breeze swelling : — 

for insertion here. The following version of the 

She's purer than the snaw that fa's 

song appears in Herd's collection, 1776.] 

On mountain's summit airy ; 
The sweetest mountain flow'r that blaws 

Robin is my only jo. 

Is not so fair as Mary. 

Robin has the art to lo'e. 

So to his suit I mean to bow. 

'Tis sweet when woodland echo rings. 

Because I ken he lo'es me. 

Where purling streams meander. 

Happy, happy was the shower. 

But sweeter when my Mary sings. 

That led me to his birken bower. 

As through the glens v-e wander. 

Whare first of love I felt the power. 

And kend that Robin lo'ed me. 

The fabled elf or fairy. 
Or skiff, that skuns the crystal tide. 

They speak of napkins, speak of rings. 

Moves not more light than Mary. 

Speak of gloves and kissing strings. 

And name a thousand bonnie things. 

From Lowland plains I've wandered far. 

And ca' them signs he io'es me. 

In endless search of pleasure ; 

But I prefer a smack of Rob, 

Till guided by some friendly star, 

Sporting on the velvet fog, 

1 found this lovely treasure. 

To gifts as lang's a plaiden wob. 

Although my native home has charms, 

Because I ken he loe's me. 

Amang these hills I'll tarry ; 
And while life's blood my bosom warms. 

He's tall and sonsy, frank and free. 

I'U love my dearest Maiy. 

Lo'ed by a', and dear to me. 

Wi' him I'd live, wi' him I'd die. 

Because my Robin lo'es me. 


My titty, Mary, said to me. 

Our courtship but a joke wad be. 

[John Sim.— Air, " Bonnie Wood o' Cragic 

And I, or lang, be made to see. 


That Robin did na lo'e me. 

Rest, lovely babe, on mother's knee. 
Rest, lovely babe, on mother's knee. 

But little kens she what lias been. 

And cry na sae to fill wi' wae 

Me and my honest Rob between. 

The heart that only beats for thee. 

And in his wooing, sae keen. 

Kind Robin is that lo'es me. 

Thou hast, my babe, nae father now, 

Then fly, ye lazy hours, away. 

To care for thee when I am gone ; 

And hasten on the happy day, [say. 

And I ha'e ne'er a friend sae true 

When " join your hands," Mess John sliall 

As would my bonnie baby own. 

A nd mak' him mine that lo'es m«. ^ 

■f Rest, lovely babe, &c. 


0!MMi.M4I«MlilMlittMI A IiVdr.j»lMMa«Htar«if, 


Tky AUhar aft p«t «B to ■!•; 

TO IfcM la iMn kadrt •rwavi •■•<*■• 
rte* I BlfM iMfB tkr MiM Mi^ 
Hot !««• Hm IB Ite ««M ataHb 

My — » kll — tt iM Kw yoM'. 
Or «f^ a MM te M^ MB I 

• l«mMto«wa4,1 

Or M«li, «r IMB, «r gl^ a liip^ 
T» lit av irikv hHT, SMI t 

I'M— it|— , — »■ tar, a 

Ilka Jeak MMy fM A J«Mi, 

iriM kM HBM to tl7, BAa 

DteM look Um aat kMtf tfafl. 
Or tolk abeat «kr «bM aa kMl, 

And kMp Um bladM ftat l«ar d 
For ha wte bM hb «Bk to Mk, 
W* kMM a* AmpIm, Btoa. 

I met jrm Utcij a' yoor lao*, 
Yc ■Mm'd likaaaa ■towa hm tki 
Tour toHk a^ «haMii«« la |«ar iMad, 

Wa« «aai fer ato akaM *• kMMi 
■a* «rfl loar ailad. ar. IT yaa pliM^ 
Vaa kHi^v tak ai k^ik, toaa. 

ffoftfft nun. 

[ Ata, " l-n WMb .f AkAtoBHk.] 

Ootffc iilll naHi'iaa kiaiil ■■■. 

A kaaalB IM kP te •• tkt Mmh, 

Uow happir. aad ka« ktal thr aMH^ 

Vtoda^loto^aMat ^ Sa kaatok bma aaii k«ato kMH^ 


[Written and Composed by James Jaap.] 

A BONNIER lass there never was, the sun ne'er shone the hke upon. 
She's (air and sweet, neat and complete, the bonnie lass of Haddington ; 
And in her face there shines sic grace, her smile's sae sweet to look upon. 
Sae fair's the lass, nane can surpass the bonnie lass of Haddington. 

When night comes near, and all is drear, my fancy roams on her alone. 
She is the light that cheers the night, the bonnie lass of Haddington, 
Jly every care, my every prayer, my every thought I think upon, 
'Tis were she mine, this maid divine, the bonnie lass of Haddington. 

(g^ai ge Ire me* 

Can ye lo'e me weel, lassie, to this heart then swiftly flee. 
Here you aye shall dwell, lassie, more than a' the world to me. 
When the moonbeams shine sae clear, at that hour by lovers blect. 
At the gloamin', lassie dear, haste to meet this throbbing brciist. 
Can you lo'e me weel, Lissie, to this heart then swiftly flee. 
Here you aye shall dwell, lassie, more than all the world to me. 

Where the bumie flows, lassie, gently owre the mountain side. 
And the wild flower blows, lassie, watered by the streamlet tide. 
As the hare-bell's blossoms shine, on the bleak and barren brae, 
Let that brilliant eye of thine light me on my lonely way. 
Can ye lo'e me weel, lassie, to this heart then swiftly flee. 
Here you aye shall dwell, lassie, more than all the world to me. 

[W. Alexander.] 

On ! the wild roving years of youth are all flown away. 

As gay romantic morning dreams before the dawn of day. 

And cahiker joys, and deeper thoughts, and love which may not mtuu, 

Are blending with the sunny smiles that cheer the scenes of home. 

The gazing crowd, what is it now ? its praise we cannot prize — 
The flattering slave perchance we hear, but silently despise — 
The loud, yet passing peal of mirth, which rang in bower or hall — 
One fiaithful heart's affection won — is worth a world of all. 



• » tkoMMMl rtraoM, !■ bHfltt fM «hM ikMB I 

Tto thw with llfc, A llMMMad hofM «ar jroattM iksi«kto 41«MiW 

TUl all tbdr glewinc cnersiM la om 4mr wltli MbMti 

Oh ! br«k aot thra tbt iptil wlMi «^ %»}«r aMi MV MIgK 

Vtmiif fRuxn Gtmnf • 

irBoa a Y«lanM of awatt and tlivaiit poMM paWlrftail a« Oh««0w tai Utt. mm6m th» tMI* < 
^^ saTPMATfan. Ify Jamu PAassa.'^ 

Oa! wharha^yabatawmla* what ha** |a >w nwlaw 

Whar ha* y bmn wamhi', hoaah Maiy Ommm/ 
Whar ha>» jw hMa roamla' Ihli oaaU «a«ii giMaila*— 

Whar ha'« i* bMa nan i ia ', mm fcr awa* ftat haoM f 
nw lar li la jfwr •i»-«rMrt lh» pMvly dm ttat MM It?— 

It aMd aa' ■» «» ba, boaato IU17 Ohmm! 
Tha*^ a glaw oa jfoar chMh~waa% Iha danaMh »Hi thai iMt H »— 

O. what gan !• gntt, OT what pu« !• ihfaUi iteaa ? 

k Mnww hi yaar bona, boaala Mary Qaant! 
Am hlithmaa ■■ jw aMd Id ha^ O, wha «0aM cw ha% Ihoiht It^- 

SoMMoa^f OF IthcT hat bom ■UF~*4alp ta bhunal 
Toar Mqs that wa» aa HohlMM, ^at* «MVte' rfow aad o«l«, 

▲a* Mir year rtte h altaf^ haaala Maiy Omaw! 
A oaahM^ la tha had tJpt arteht ha-^ bin iiwii mm ohawy, 
Ola ha had hipt Mi Mth la thM, boaali Maiy OfMaa f 

iP98 firft an^ lajtt lobe. 

tJAvai M ma a w t ia H o— prlalad kr Iha Inl Hbm.] 

MOKNiwo tfana or happlaoH^ O § 
When li«ht o* haart aa* tt' tf hepa 1 taamM ^V^'ym, 
An- aa * pu-d Uk boaala flowor ihiim Iha ^athUa* daw, 

1 ehupvi It to my bcwMt and mM. O Jaaala, tto Uka yoa i 

Tho prtda o* May. tha ptak or Jaaa, tha lam or nmaor^ hawar* 
W«« naa «• awaai by haafaa thaa, aiy wiaaoaa vHaa W flovar*. 

ThyohwkmalrMftthaaahbrdawa.aa whila m dtlvn Maw, 
Thlaa •> o' k>ve, thy Iwnnte locks, la happy dnama, yat U! 
Upon my eauld aad farokaa haart, aa* glow hi Mnw ihMa 
Thu *• the flowMB that o««r paw oa CaMok^ Ailty poM, 
Thy Uib waa mlaa, aiy Uto waa tMaa, yal ar WM bat a 4i«»-. 
Thahoarlapaat , aay M aa rtlay haart oaa oaly i^gh, F^owalL 



'^it ikth d ^rftE^#5]p« 

[Air, ** The kail brose of auld Scotland."] 

The cauld blasts o' winter blaw chill o'er the 

And nature grows pale 'neath the tyrant's domain; 
We'll seek our lov'd cottage, and leave the bleak 
For there's nought like the circle of friendship 
To brighten life's path with a smile. 

The heart leaps wi* joy, by the canty fireside. 
Surrounded by faces whose faith has been tried. 
Where kind hospitality loves to preside ; 
For there's nought like the circle of friendship 
To brighten life's path with a smUe. 

Tho' our table is spread with no Epicure's fare ; 
Tho' our wealth is but sma', we shall never despair. 
While we just ha'e a plack wi' a neighbour to 
share ; 
Still we'll meet in the circle of friendship 
And brighten life's path with a smile. 

The nabob surrounded with splendour may pine; 

For friends are but scanty where sycophants 
shine ; — 

Here the juice of the malt is as sweet as the vine ; 
And there's nought like the circle of friendship 
To brighten life's path with a smile. 

J et statesmen delight in the court's vain parade, 
\> here each plays for self in the great masque- 
rade. — 
Our pleasures tho' humble, we trust are repaid ; 
For there's nought like the circle of friendship 
To brighten life's path with a smile. 

While the coxcomb is lost in the butterfly throng. 

Where the dance to the music is floating along ; 

We enjoy our bit crack, wi' a canty Scots song; 

For there's nought like the circle of friendship 

To brighten life's path with a smile. 

Then blest be the faces that welcom'd me here. 
Wherever 1 wander they'll ever be dear, — 
While our glasses, at parting, will brim with a 
For there's nought like the circle of friendship 
To brighten life's path with a smile. • 

[From Ramsay's Tea-Table Miscellany. Tune, 
' Kirk wad let me be."J 

I WAS once a weel -tocher 'd lass. 

My mither left dollars to me . 
But now I'm brought to a poor pass. 

My step-dame has gart them flee. 
My father, he's aften frae hame. 

And she plays the deil with his gear; 
She neither has lawtith nor shame, 

And keeps the haill house in a steer. 

She's barmy-faced, thriftless, and bauld^ 

And gars me aft fret and repine ; 
While hungry, half-naked, and cauld, 

1 see her destroy what's mine. 
But soon I might hope a revenge. 

And soon of my sorrows be free ; 
My poortith to plenty wad change. 

If she were hung up on a tree. 

Quoth Ringan, wha lang time had loo'd 

This bonnie lass ttnderlie, 
I'll tak' thee, sweet May, in thy snood, 

Gif thou wilt gae hame with me. 
'Tis only yoursel' that 1 want; 

Your kindness is better to me 
Than a' that your stepmother, scant 

Of grace, now has taken frae thee. 

I'm but a young farmer, it's true. 

And ye are the sprout of a laird ; 
But I have milk-cattle enow. 

And ruth of good rucks in my yard. 
Ye shall have naething to fash ye. 

Sax servants "(hall jouk to thee: 
Then kilt up thy -^oats my lassie, 

And gae thy ways hame with me. 

The maiden her reason employ'd. 

Not thinking the offer amiss. 
Consented, while Ringan, o'erjoy'd. 

Received her with mony a kiss. 
And now she sits blythely singin'. 

And joking her drunken stepdame. 
Delighted with her dear Ringan, 

That makes her goodwife at Imme. 


(Tvffs, " ZttHek buka.*^ 

8ni iprliic her gnem wOd dte l oM, 
Uinto twMtiir dMBt on Uks ipniy f 

'Jdany limunij r kboww ttM ■HpiMra p 
WkOt tportif* kmbkiMrMBd Mb 

Kninptimd BOW I tok* By ««|r, 

WbDt Jogr MlDfCM A* tlM MMM I 

Down bjr yoo ihaded ttrwrn I mnj. 
To omH Ml* bail nqr booal* J«uk 

Tt Kdlborn fiovw, by 

WtaM* aepbjm ipart ai 
Tew arinr MMB !•«• ^ 

Art dniMr teivy tai |wr b0««n» 
Whw AnsimaM MMM tlM 4n>y •^M. 

I inui<hr wbaw y— > mtmrnkH f t mM% 
To MMI an* 1^ ny boMb Jam. 

L>t giaailwir war km loHy 4 

Throafli nnisB hHMB wt avMiM foaM^ 

▲a* tar har phm aaaMrfsf Mil 
Olv* mo Mr aain*^ wmI ■■■•• 

?$er ibfue roUitt* e>. 

[HoiM^Tano, " Banks of Ibt DatMi."] 

Mr Ia«l« b loMly M MiV-diV. a^ovvki^ 

Wi' fowaaa aa' prtBTOMB Uka giH« hat 
Tbo* twrnt Is tiM liolM, WW blowa r «iw aBrBtet. 

Aa tradar aa* tiTMt h bOT Mm raUla* «^ 
O ny, what la whitar than saaw on tiM moaatata ? 

Or whjit wl* the rad loa* la baaaigr oaa ytt? 
Yea, whiter her boaan than saaw on Iha moaalala. 

And bonnia bar fiwa aa the red roa^ aaa ba. 

Sm yn lo*ly«t>n>MP' that atanda by tha wfM wood. 
Hwlfad roaad wl' awaoi btter aad fn 


And flaat idt the powar o* a k/rc-raUla' ela^ 

Iktt huw l*fB baM toaiiag aa 

Ay» daar waa tka anOay wtort Kttrkk aHaadirM I 

JLja tfaar waa Ika Utek o^ bar Mae raUla* •>». 

Oftrtfcai iiliifcaaJOfcr the bear, [bai 

Wkaa #awB ly yaa fPMBwaai ib> paaarfMi «a 
«•» Mm oa tka 

Zit lxAk» o' GUii!irt. 


lear'at aaav IM afyaarad bi "Tba ^Hbat lary. 
- " afaaa».''0>iii i.WH Obifcanh^ 

ki fbfii fmm, mtm^mm,} 


O abaraibBg aia tka laaarfat rui^ 
Whaia raral pluaira ktad^ dwvllit 


Yes, wi' that bonnle Clachan Glen, ^ 

Wluu-e birdies chant the artless strain. 
Her warks she crown 'd— and mark'd her ain 

m^ fki^ie* 

The bonnie banks o' Glaizart. 

Eclipsing a' her favours high. 

[Tune, "Old Highland laddie."J 

She blythe proclaim'd wi' smiling eye. 

" Now, never now, shall scene outvie 

The wind blew hie owre muir and lea. 

The bonnie banks o' GJaizart." 

And dark and stormy grew the weather; 
The rain rain'd sair; nae shelter near 

But my luve's plaid amang the heather. 
my bonnie Highland lad. 

JEe^s, ®. 

My winsome, weelfar'd Highland laddie ; 

Wha wad mind the wind and rain. 

Sae weel row'd in his tartan plaidie ? 

[TiTNB, " Gloomy winter's now awa'."] 

Close to his breast he held me fast; 

Trit-lino Harp, come let us sing. 

Sae cozie, warm, we lay thegither ; 

Come let me brace ilk gowden string. 

Nae simmer heat was half sae sweet 

And warble owre some bonnie spring. 

As my luve's plaid amang the heather I 

In praise o' my sweet Mary, 0. 

my bonnie, &c. 

The lay along let sweetly move. 

Freely let the love-notes rove. 

•Mid wind and rain he tauld his tale ; 

Peerless, yea, resound my love, 

My lightsome heart grew like a faither ; 

My blythe, my bonnie Mary, 0. 

It lap sae quick I cou'dna speak. 

For she's handsome, sweet, and fair. 

But silent sigh'd amang the heather. 

Blooming, sprightly, mild, and rare; 

my bonnie, &c. 

Ke'er shall maid wi' her compare. 

My blythe, my darling Mary, 0. 

The storm blew past; we kiss'd in haste ; 
I hameward ran and tauld my mither ; 

Though Burns divine, in rapture keen. 

She gloom'd at first, but soon confest 

Sang sweetly o* his " Bonnie Jean," 

The bowls row'd right amang the heather. 

She scarcely e'er in shape or mien. 

my bonnie, &c. 

Could match my bonnie Mary, 0. 

Though Tannahill in numbers fain. 

Now Hymen's beam gil<ls bank and stream. 

ExtoU'd his " Jessie o' Bumblane," 

Whare Will and I fresh .flowers will gather; 

And though her praises charm ilk swain. 

Nae storms I fear, I've got my dear 

Excell'd she's now by Mary, 0. 

Kind-hearted lad amang the heather. 

had thae twa sweet bards but seen 

my bonnie Highland lad. 

This blooming maid o' bonnie mien. 

My winsome, weelfar'd Highland laddie ; 

They'd tuned her heavenly lyres I ween. 

Should storms appear, my VViU's aye near 

And peerless made my Mary, 0. 

To row me in his tartan plaidie. 

Ye powers aboon, guard frae harms 

The maid whase smile my bosom warms. 

And lang endow'd wi' rovvth o' charms. 

Let bloom n)y bonnie Mary, 0. 

I^Jie ^ptoing ®'t» 

guide her through this dreary vale 

O' sorrow, trouble, woe, and wail, 

And heaven-ward when she soars, entail 

[TuNH, "Rock and wee pickle tow."J 

Eternal bliss on Mary, 0. 

For O she's handsome, sweet, and fair. 

i Now Sandy, the winter's cauH blasts are awa'. 

Blooming, sprightly, mild, and rare; 

j And simmer, we've seen the beginning o't 

Ke'er shall maid wi' her compare. 

! I've lang been wearied o' fnwt and o' snaw 

My blythe, my darling 31ary, O. < 

^ And sair ha'e I tired o' the spinning o't; 



vcomsB 8OVO811 

Tor wh<a W9 ht> mmnkA mat ehirHng wm thia, % 
Aod poortith. 7* hm, OMdt B* «idcat to •rla. 
Twa* Mn lovt •* yni tiMt Am vwt im begin. 
And Hiiilim h>^ ftnowwl tk» »to»ing ox 

And 7* ffMd to wark, b* It ft«M «r brt tkaWf 

My toA WM DM lc« at Um «teBli« e^: 
Bot BOW ««r«t A putry Mtk BMekk aad Ai' 
O' Uka thlag fuda fer to fli^ la Hm OMB* { 
A ban^o'ala.wl'aoaMaiMrtfertobraw, 

To mak' m AMfrt tito h ag ln D lin o^l. 


Ha* malr I ait dowa to «lM iViBBlHt •% 
Kor rm gang to tofl la tka aMM adds ^da, 

Aa UttW think on tha btflairii« o^t 
O* ahaep «• hav aeona, aad ar |g« ti>«i^4v«. 
Far laa «• ka> aMa wad wite at «i* b|yti»i 
Bat thrill and iadoMiy BMki paar ftait to ' 

A ehar ptooTV tiMM b tlM ipiaaiiV art. 


And hMfttato sad kaid tlw baflaaliW •% 
lVh«n f was iBgagtt tha «««b to«i*, 

A Dd Artt nqr jrooag ddll triad tht lylaaliv ant 
But oow «a aaa diaai la oar pMdIaa tot MM*, 
Fa* aaat and te* ataw gM to kkrk ar to IM*, 
And look «|a at hlytkt aa tha ktot ar tiMto a*. 
01c laak hto haM «r tka kiflBatav «ru 

Wtt !m!l on tfje brier. 

[TviiB, ** Tba QunpbalW aia eonUa*."] 

Tna bad on tha briar tt la boaala oao^l^ 

An* aM la tha Oowor oa tha ha*. laMi 

Row twaetahlnca tha rad artttag ana In tha atiaan. 

But thoa art tha awcottat of a', laa. 

Tba teTaroek oa tha laa, haa, 

The Untie oe tha tne. hwe. 

The marie aft rmawa hor aMtg, 

Bat nana e* them einga like thee, laa. 

The naethiC o* frianOa aaagr ba happ7, 1 own. 

An' bUakao^ aentantgl'e oaa*. kaat 
But fBptaia aa^er oeaMa frae the a'e to tha heart, 

data only whan lova gl^M the law. tea. 

a eaa q a- ri ag M igiiai 
Aa* patriea Aght to ha ftaa. latot 

I ha^ kali^ HBjeii^i kg thaa^ Um. 

Ill wear thg dtolB «r a* aij heart, 
OITya wfll ba toy ahi* hMk. 

Tha Inn laalllag kha tiat I itoal fta> Hiy ■»» 

Siimif 9Mt. 

CFia the ariglaal P a l attiI>»Tta.eto page «.) 


■ Ada wad Iwt ftae ma 

WhOa M^ a aaa I hate to gl^ 

I laaraid It aariy la toy fwrth. 
WhM hMliV kaaaada eaoeed a 




Aa* nt It ay wl* a* fear Mil, 
Thaa^ aaa abathepey aer Hlghlaad laal, 
Oaato «p to Dataitle Dnvla. 


Though bardies a'. In former times, "* Though pure the flowers that blaw unseen 

Ha'e stain'd my sang, wae worth their rhymes ! 

Amang her native woodlands green. 

They had but little mense, wj* crimes. 

Yet purer far's the heart, I ween. 

To blast my Daintie Davie. 

Of artless Highland Maiy, 0. 

The rankest weeds the garden spoil, 

Lassie wi', &c. 

When labour tak's the play a while; 

The lamp gaes out for want o' oil. 

Let others range frae isle to isle. 

And sae it fared wi' Davie. 

Where never-ending simmers smile •— 

Daintie Davie, &c. 

Mair dear the groves o' Ballochyle, 
That shelter Highland Mary, 0. 

There's ne'er a bar but what's complete. 

Lassie wi', &c. 

While ilka note is aye so sweet. 

That auld and young get to their feet. 

I'd cheerfu' toil frae dawn o* day. 

When they hear Daintie Davie. 

O'tr yon lone glen and ferny brae. 

Until the latest hour of time. 

Could 1 but get, by gloaming grey. 

When music a' her power shall tine, 

Ae blythsome blink o' Mary, 0. 

Each hill, an" dale, an' grove, shall ring 

Lassie wi', &c. 

Wi' bonnie Daintie Davie. 

0, Daintie Davie, &c. 

may nae cloud the sun o'ercast, 
To chill this floweret's snawie breast! 

Nae reptile's breath untimely blast 

%umk Ui* t^e mhm kcfe. 

The op'ning bloom of Mary, 01 
Lassie wi', &c. 

[A. Fletcher, schoolmaster, Dunoon, Argyle- 

shire.— Tune, " Lassie wi' the lint-white locks."] 

i^lEie=i0geli ^nm. 

Lassie wi' the raven locks. 

Charming lassie. Highland lassie; 

[Written by Angus Fletcher, among the 
ruins of Dunoon Castle, which command a dis- 

Gladly wad I tend thy flocks. 

tant view of Montstuart in the Isle of Bute. This 

Bonnie Highland Mary, 0. 

song appeared first in a Greenock Newspaper, 

WTiere Echaig joins the briny tide. 
And Cowal's hills spread far and wide. 

January 1806, but is here given with the author's 
latest corrections. It was wiitten to the air of 
" Miss Forbes' farewell to Banff," and has also 

Alang the winding banks o' Clyde, 

been set to music of its own by an Edinburgh 

1 met wi' Highland Mary, 0. 
Lassie wi', &c. 

publisher, who calls the tune *' The Flower of 

Her foot sae neatly mark'd the sand, 

Nine times bleak winter's cranreuch snell 

An' gently waved her lily hand. 

Despoiled o' bloom the daisied lea; 

As, slow, she traced the sea-beat strand. 

And nine times has the primrose pale 

The lovely Highland Mary, 0. 

Spread round the dells of Coir-in-t-shee, 

Lassie wi', &c. 

Since, where Montstuart's dusky grove 
Waves o'er yon foaming distant sea. 

How mildly glanced her hazel e'e ! 

I blushing own'd my youthful love. 

Like sunbeams on the dewy lea :— 

And Blue-eyed Anne reproved na me. 

It, stowlins, wiled the heart frae me. 

The witching smile of Mary, 0. 

Wha then wad think our joys could fade? 

Lassie wi', &c. 

Love's dearest pleasures a' we knew; 
And not a cloud was seen to shade 

Her eye-brows of a jetty-hue ; 

The blissful scenes young fancy drew. 

Her lips "like rose-buds moist wi' dew;" 

But scowling tempests soon o'ercast 

A sweeter face ne'er bless'd my view 

Our azure skies and summer sea— 

• Than youthfu' Highland Mary's, 0. 

I've borne misfortune's rudest blast. 

Lassie wi', &c. ^ 

} Yet Blue-eyed Anne still smiles on nie. 


■oonisn BOMGs. 

• ■UbitMlvid,aoaMnnit«my A 

Bwi calMly if— *<*••— lMi*y 

And ftft in dirab thto boMT 

Wh«i ipriBg rrrtvH «Mh 

To vtafw yoa awMt MqpHMH^ 

flowvaad tn*. 

(Toirm, " For A* that M a* llMl.*^WHlln ly 
A Lu. Docoi^a, • mmmi te PMhkwi, FMifelM^ 
who pabUahcd • ««laiM of pooas la 1Mb] 

What aOs 70a aow, my 4*latl« Pats, 

T« wlaaa w«4 an' a' that? 
Say, aia y flqrd. or an ]p« Mala, 
To ten yoor lort ao' a' that > 
To kki aa' dap, aa' a' that? 
O ly Ibr ■hama. aa' a' that. 
To ipowi yow Bk withoat a wUb I 
Tto BO tha fate aim that. 

Era laag yoa wfll grow aald sad tall, 

Yoar teflbte white aa' a* Ifcati 
Ao* whanl tht M«|, tha Kate, or IWl, 

Win ha-o yoo tfna wV a' that ? 




WhMB^d koa aa' a' that: 
Wl* biBMl ■• grry, thtra*! aai 
▲ kte tat you, aa' a' that. 

O rtead aa ap wf whno aa' how, 
Wl* Ub aa' bate aa* a' that. 

Wl' tahloM Mnpto aol a kw t 
Pa* ap yoor haart aa' a* ttMt. 

The htaMy-nooD win ao^w fai« 4oa«, 
Ifffoidtt wwl an' a' that. 

There's monie Uae baith doaaa aa* Mr, 

Ku' soa«y, fler, an' a' that. 
Wad auit yoo to a vary hair, 
Saa davor therra an' a' that : 
Handeomr, yonng, an' a' that. 
Baa aomplaiaant an' a' that : 
Saa awaai an' braw, and icude an' a' t 
What alia tha diWld at a' that ? 

a a'.-] 

la MIy thgnaa tlaqr aagbl te oaar. 
■ow «A !•«• wwtdaTM IV Iho Gtpda, 

Whoa altkt ohMMii tha hMdMBfi 


No powor oa Mrfk oaa flhaaga tef hMvl 

Or tMT that «ta« taaa aa» av Bhh 
Aad whia thb wortd aad 1 riian pott. 

fbr than I'D oBit a hwk baMad. 
BwUllly flht thaa aalfl wo aaat. 

BwUllly awagr aaah day aad yaar, 
Uatn ay aady IMiadi 1 graat. 

And kite acala ay Maiydtea 


[Tune, " Jessie the Fower o' Dumblane." This 
and the two following songs were first published 
in " The Fooket Encyclopedia of Song," Glasgow, 

By the side o' yon river, as Bessie sat sighin', 

Lamentin' her Jamie frae her far awa'. 
The last sound o' the bell on the night breeze was 

An' careless aroun' her the dew-drops did fa' ; 
O ! welcome, she cried, thou sweet hour of devo- 
tion ! 

O rise, bonnie moon, a young lassie does ca' ; 
Shine clearly, an' witness my full heart's emotion ; 

I'll think on my Jamie, though he be awa'. 

O ! gin he was here, or gin I had gaen wi' him : — 

But whisht my fond heart, he will quickly return; 
My arms shall enfauld him ; soon, soon shall I see 

An' ne'er on this bank again lanely I'll mourn. 
An' thou, bonnie moon, whast beheld my sad 

O tell it to Jamie, O tell it him a' ; 
While gazin' on thee, owre the deep as he's sailin', 

O ! fkir be the breezes aroun' him that blaw. 

How sweet ist to see thee shine clearly and bonnie. 

On the gay fiel's o' harst, or the silvery snaw — 
How sweet are these scenes ! but far sweeter than 

The lad to me dearest, though he be awa' : 
For what to me's Nature, though varied in feature; 

Without him — nae joy can it gi'e me ava : — 
O ! come then, my laddie, O come, binna later. 

For drearie'a the time whan frae me ye're awa". 

,11: Wdm* 

[TuNK, "Humours of Glen."] 

TnK bright rose o' simmer the brier was adornin'. 
An' sweet fell the perfume encirclin' the flower. 

An' rich on its leaves hung the tears o' the mornin'. 
An" saft sigh'd the gale thro' the brier-shaded 
bower : 


But Helen, fair Helen, the early dawn courtin', 
Appear'd, an' now pale grew the rooe's deep dye; 

When rival'd Aurora beheld the nymph sponi;i'. 
She mantled her face in a fold o' the sky. 

Enraptured I saw her sae bloomin' an' bonnie. 

That love bade the full tide o' fervour to flow ; 
But blame na my ardour, for tell me could onie 

Resist the fond impulse— ah ! tell me ? oh no. — 
Though calm was the hour, and delicious the 

When viewin' the beauties o' Nature sae fair. 
Beside lovely Helen, 'twas joy without measuix". 

The fairest, the dearest, the sweetest was there 

A boon may I venture to beg trae thee. Heaven ? 

Amid a' my care, an' my toil, an* my fear. 
Be the heart-warmin' impulse o' frien'ship me 

To live in her smile, or be worthy her tear : 
An' never, thou dread power. Adversity, bend her; 

Frae sadness an' sorrow, oh ! aye be she free : 
That ilka true bliss may for ever attend her, — 

Is the prayer o' the poet, dear Helen, for thee. 

[Nkthkki-ke is four miles south-west of Glasgow.] 

AtTLD farran' can tie bodie. 
Cam' ye frae the Netherlee ? 

Auld farran' cantie bodie. 
Did you there my lassie see ? 

Kind, an' blythe, an' sweet aa onie. 

Fairer never can ye see ; 
In face an' form my lassie's bonnie. 

Dimpled love sits in her e'e. 
Auld farran', &c. 

Hair like the mornin's gouden beam. 
On the tapmaist mountain hie ; 

An' oh ! whan dress'd in tartan sheeu. 
Beauty's power is ill to dree. 
Auld farran', &c. 

Her lips wad mak' the cherry blush 
Deeper red — though red it be ; 

An' weel like I the dew to brush 
Frae her lips sae sweet an' wee. 
, Auld farran', fico. 


BbI «wMi yt tiM iMilt tibta, 

Throogh tbt wood cr owi« tht toA ? 
Tboagh jr**i« Ik* wait «> CMitiwt OMB, 
To Mk ter qirieklir OMuui I aM. 
Dm* 7* «Ml ClM, Ibank bmlltl 
WkM I* m* t tlM M«lh«to«, 
Spiv tar n*. uM tema* bedl% 
Thm «lM iMri* dMT yvH «•. 

I^ie, lonnlt luMklt. 

SOOmSB •0V4 


All tta* •eUceUoM m bo maoajmam ptu d— II bb , 
bat w* iMT* tlM MtlMirltjr of • hlgWy ■ ■ ■■ i iii 
cormpoDdMi Ibr M]rtoff Umu It «m wrttira ky 
th* Rmt. Jamb BoacTMAii. mlaMH' cT UbmO; 
la KtaeMdbMridrr, who dtod at u a*RMMidi«t 
laorab«rttl»yMrl77». Mr.lliiagwM wpoIo 
othorpoollMlpiMM, tat BOMof r 
tbo paMle «wpt thk M^.aad th* 
that broaffht H to Ucbt «M thia. AboMthatlna 
It was writtM, an Itlnanwt tiaihw tt mmit» 
appwfad la tho diatriet, and happaalag «a 9i« a 
eopjr oTlt, ho Mac H ta hb fltaaM^at his aoMam, 
aad OB othar oeearioaa, Ml H M«ali«d a loeal 
popakrHy.aod thodaanaad ' 
maeh that tha aid oTtht piialv wm 
•upply than, aad tbaa. hgr aad bjw. It 
bo oficaad aw tho aoaatry hi 
It la 

Uic. bonalalM 
And ir jroar dmp waadw IH fho tlMai a Ivbi 
8ao happj aa woU ba om yeodar gnoB ikadiw 
ir ya'U bo my dawtia, aad dt IB B^ flaM. 

A yow* aad twa taBuntaa aia a* Bif kaM ataok. 

But I'll wU a lamtnlo oat o^ my woo iook. 

To buy thoo a hoad-plMO. mm bonaio aad bndd, 

Ifyo-U bo Bqr dawtio, aad ait la nqr plaU. 

I ha'o a woo whIUJo mado mo a troot erool, 
A nd, oh, that ww whiulo I Itklt tt wool : 
But ru tt'ot to my laarfo. and mair If I had, 
Ifaholl bo my dawtlo, and rit la my plaM. 

I ha'o llttio illlar. bat ao haaf-fMro fta. 
But ity* will uk* It. I'U fi'ot a* to thoo| 
And th«n we'll be marrkd. and Uo In ao bod, 
UfU bo my dawt)o» aad rft la my plaid. 

01b VtLWH^*$ Sb9^t* 

raa h|a ai« iBwtlBg IB tta iMiW 
Tho owoi UMt «B tko btao. 

Ho b«doi BM laa« awayl 

Aa* ayo tho BoUa amf by tha waa. 

Ab* hlo Boto iBd a Moiiinii Ih*. 

▲a* tha ooffMo anavM IB tha ilBd, 

Tin oat MB* tka WM f 

AaMt howfcH a fiBO* iw tho bbU grqr had, 
rot tho haad lay a* Ito huMi 

Bat I win Mok oat tho robto^ sort, 

Ab* tha Boot of th* aoail iky. 

tmm Mtfa^riW h Ika iilll >»«■! p>a. 

oTAaavo Ffcarcaaa, aad §m a j yoa f oi 
■Mial Vimt^pwn ahaat Uw yr UPtorl. 
ii» a itltiB to a Oaollo air, batUBi^almko 
■ to tiM faad aid taaa aT ** WBb was B wBB> 
wag." OlsBilifBil,wnaftt»rtik1iiii|>s^ 

- iBninlialpfcwBalfcapBsHiaf «■■ 


1 toM my law. wUkMttasi ktarfMi^ 

Boy tho baralo^ dtaBfOt ttaa I 
Dmt »o mo^ tho bowalo taario 
LMBg la yoa laAls glSB. 

aadl ba 0^ aqr lurrtts thoBot 
fior.oB tky baak my HIghhuid lasils 


There, as she mark'd the sportive fishes ' 

'^ In vain will spring her gowans spread 

Upward spring v/r quiVring fin, 

Owre the green swairded lea : 

1 slyly stole some melting kisses. 

The rose beneath the hawthorn shade 

Trae the lassie 0' the glen. 

Will bloom in vain for me: 

the birken, &c. 

In vain will spring bedeck the bowers 
Wi' buds and blossoms braw— 

What bliss ! to sit, and nane to fash us. 

' The gloomy storm already lowers 

In some sweet wee bowery den ; 

That drives me far awa'. 

Or fondly stray amang the rashes. 

Then fkre ye weel, &c. 

Wi' the lassie o* the glen. 

the birken, &c. 

winter ! spare the peacefu' scene 
Where early joys I knew: 

An I though I wander now unhappy. 

Still be its fields unfading green. 

Far frae scenes we haunted then, 

Its sky unclouded blue. 

I'U ne'er forget the— bank sae grassy. 

Ye lads and lasses ! when sae blythe 

Kor— the lassie o' the glen. 

The social crack ye ca'— 

the birken, &c. 

spare the tribute of a sigh 
For me, when far awa' ! 

Then fare ye weel, &c 

-^^le iFatefeielL 

^mx JEarjg. 

[J. BuRTT.— Tune, " Jockie's far awa'."] 

[Anous Fletcher.— Tune, "A* body's like to 

WKLCOMK winter ! wi' thy storms. 

get married but me."] 

Thy frosts, an' hills o' sna' ; 

Dismantle nature 0' her charms. 

I MET my dear lasfiie short syne in yon dale. 

For I maun lea' them a'. 

But deep was her bigh, and her cheek it was pale; 

I've moum'd the gowan wither'd laid 

And sad the saft smile that was heaven to see : 

Upon its wallow bier ; 

Poor Mary, I fear, is unhappy— like me. 

I've seen the rose-bud drooping fade 

Beneath the devv7 tear. 

A feverish heat has deprived o* their bloom 

Then fare ye weel, my frien's sae dear. 

For I maun lea'e you a'. 

An' changed is the glance 0' her blythe hazel e'e,— 

will ye sometimes shed a tear 

Poor Mary, I fear, is unhappy— like me. 

For me, when far awa' ? 

For me, when far frae hame and you. 

'Twas thus a fair floweret adom'd my lone walk. 

Where ceaseless tempests blaw. 

But chill blew the east on its tender green stalk : 

Will ye repeat my last adieu. 

No more its sweet blossoms allure the wild bee- 

An' mourn that I'm awa' ? 

Poor Mary, I fear, is unhappy— like me. 

I've seen the wood, where rude winds rave. 

If I were but destined to ca' her my ain. 

In gay green mantle drest ; 

I'd shield her sae fondly frae sna', win', an' rain; 

But now its leafless branches wave 

And, nightly, this bosom her pillow wad be :— 

Wild whistling in the blast: 

Poor Mary, I fear, is unhappy— like me. 

So perish'd a' my youthfu' joy. 

An' left me thus to mourn : 

Detraction and malice— society's pest! 

The vernal sun will gild the sky. 

I know 'tis your venom that pains her pure breast ; 

But joy will ne'er return. 

But, for that haven, 'yont life's stormy sta. 

Then Care ye weel, &c. ^ 

A Where Mary, 1 trust, shall be happy wi' me ! 




®atlf VLimt. 

[WiuJAK Tm 

scomsH lovoa 

A BaiCH 

61a !•« 

Gfai I* wimld twn yow teM, Md Wi« 
Stock by-flUM dtoy* t» ■•-<— 

m* a* tlM frtoadi I lo'ad afr l«l» 
In dajw a^ laat iyaa. 


For tkveatlk tka iBlil a* te^ yaan 

im Iwva bibtad my lada a^ «amp 
And, Ught a* bMfft and Umk, 

in Mlovr yoa Ummgh «ar|y Mo«b 
By dMtaaa* oovaada diak 

O I kad BM to tha d<ar lafad ipe«. 

And a* llM «orid 1 »«, 


Aadf fMCH aartSt mv bm mi 

Ab haar »y tiMt aaM «kal^. 
That ban Bif BwtlMr laaft, aad «a 

My Madly wadwr tt Mia 
O, Ttaal I^ flMyM a* I'm vwtk, 

For aa laok ^ tkak blMMd haa. 

Salt wwB «!• gftef kr aa i 

Andy CBna^ CbMa^ a bbtaB aowvp 

O* aariy lava t 

Wl' leavca o^ gloaqr fiwa »— 
A nd, O ! bring baok to bmH via ^«a, 

Fna oat tha dattaooia tnnb, 
M J carly>l<»t, my bonnl* brtdc. 

In a' bcr maiden bloonu 

O ! ernd carle, I plead la vals— 

Ye leave m« to my ktei 
Wl' moody brow, and ridant ttktf, 

Tt keep yoor onward fates 


Zit autumii If abf#. 


na bMi «m sooa ba »«•, dHT May, 


TW Madk bat AMi-tbt tovM Iwati 

Aad Ika ptek-aaa a'ike labaarir ««fKt 
la watUag hMd bMMalk. 



Bynagta^^ Biy baad« a 

Vi by wttft wif aaHy leva ? arliyhaavat 
WKh righa thy geslla bfeaM ^ 
H iflly ««adt 0^ mlai^ 
k thy taaoB^ nail 



For why should I stand haverin' here, 
Like pulin* hopeless swain. 

When ilka blush, and sigh, and tear. 
Declares ye a' my ain I 

[" This song," says Burns, " was the work of 
a very worthy, facetious old fellow, John Lap- 
RAiK, late of Dalfram, near Muirkirk; which 
little projwrty he was obliged to sell, in conse- 
quence of some connection, as security, for some 
persons concerned in that villanous bubble. The 
Ayr Bank. He has often told me that he com- 
posed this song one day when his wife had been 
fretting o'er their misfortunes." It will be recol- 
lected, that Bums, hearing the song sung at a 
" country rocking," was so much taken with it 
that he addressed a rhyming epistle to Lapraik, 
which opened up a correspondence between them. 
The poet says, 

" There was ae sang amang the rest, 
Aboon them a' it pleased me best. 
That some kind husband had addrest 
To some sweet wife : 
It thrill'd the heart-strings thro' the breast, 
A* to the life." 
Lapraik was greatly the senior of Burns, having 
been born in 1727, yet he long survived him, as he 
died at Muirkirk, where he latterly kept the vil- 
lage post office, in 1807. In 178S, he published 
at Kilmarnock a volume of poems, but none of 
them surpassed, if they e(iualled, the song which 
drew forth the generous praise of Burns.— 
Tune, " The Scots Recluse," or " Johnnie's Grey 

When I upon thy bosom lean. 

And fondly clasp thee a* my ain, 
I glory in the sacred ties i 

That made us ane, wha ance were twain. 
A mutual flame inspires us baith. 

The tender look, the meltin' kiss: 
Even years shall ne'er destroy our love. 

But only gi'e us change o' bliss. 

Ha'e I a' wish ? it's a' for thee ! 

I ken thy wish is me to please. 
Our moments pass sae smooth away, 

That numbers on us look and gaze , 

Weel pleased they see our happy days. 
Nor envy's sel' finds aught to blame ; 

And aye, when weary cares arise. 
Thy bosom still shall be my hame. 

I'll lay me there and tak' my rest: 

And, if that aught disturb my dear, 
I'll bid her laugh her cares away. 

And beg her not to drop a tear. 
Ha'e I a joy ? it's a' her ain ! 

United still her heart and mine ; 
They're like the woodbine round the tree. 

That's twined till death shall them disjoin. 

[This was introduced as a Scotch song in Bick- 
erstafTs opera of " Love in a Village," first acted 
at Co vent Garden Theatre in 1762. J 

Down the burn and through the mead. 
His golden locks wav'd o'er his brow ; 
Johnnie lilting, tun'd his reed, 
A nd Mary wip'd her bonnie mou* : 
Dear she loo'd the well known song. 
While her Johnnie, blythe and bonnie. 
Sung her praise the whole day long. 
Down the burn and through the mead. 
His golden locks wav'd o'er his brow 
Johnnie lilting, tun'd his reed, 
A nd Mary wip'd her bonnie mou'. 

Costly claiths she had but few; 
Of rings and jewels nae great store ; 
Her face was fair, her love was true. 
And Johnnie wisely wish'd nae more. 
Love's the pearl the shepherds prize ; 
O'er the mountain, near the fountain. 
Love delights the shepherd's eyes. 
Down the burn, &c. 

Gold and titles give not health. 
And Johnnie could nae these impart; 
Youthfu' Mary's greatest wealth. 
Was still her faithfu" Johnnie's heart 
Sweet the joys the lovers find. 
Great the treasure, sweet the pleasure. 
Where the heart is always kind. 
L J)own the burn, &c. 


[Tan WM wrKtni by BosBST C*A«rrras to tk« taMoflU aawrlMnvlkM^'aBtfprtHMbitlM 
Tm-TahU MkoalUny.] 

On day I hMM Manr aty, how tlmn I 1miv« Um* ? 

Stay, dmntH Adoota. tuy; why wilt thoa ght^mmf 
▲iMf my fcod hMTt wUl bTMk, if thtm ■hoald iMv* «Mi 

111 >f« aad 4to te> thy MlM, frt aOTw lMf« thM. 

flier, lofdy 44miIs, aiy. bM MwydMrivad thM? 

Did e'er htr yomg howl bttniy arv lofv. thm hat ffitaaii lkM> 
Ify cotMUnt mind mtr ■ball Maayi thea may talkvt am. 

Ill km Umc, Ud, aisht and day, aad aaav Imv* thaa. 

Adonia, my ehannlnc yoath, what caa tallava that ? 

OaaMaiyUiyaaatttohaoocha? ThJibwaatihaU niilii thww 
Mjr paarioa caa aaMr dMay, ntvw daaiHa thM I 

t, taava thaa, hid, hOTT dHdII tam thM ^ 
OhithaithooshtimkMmamdi 111 aavw iMva thaa i 
Wham woald my Adoali fly f Why doai ha grlava ma f 
Alas! mypeorhMrtwUldla,iridMaldlMfathaa» 

iKs JLinnif *i tioa*. 

[Tan waa wrKtaa by Bvaa* hi Diaaaihir. VM, kri 
%w gada Mlowa whaa Jamla ^l awa," or ai It li aow a 

allM Agaw M'f ihnm, Ji th» in iii I aiUjirt af tha »a«.J 

Tha laaw-dmp aad |ii1ibiiiw aar woadlaadi adata, 
Aad Ttoiat* Utha la tha waai o* tha mara i 
They patn my mmI benm, aM ■ m« > ly thay hiawl 
They mlad ma o* Maania— aod Kaaak 1 awa*. 

Thoa lavaroek. that ■prlnct fVaa tha dcwa of tha biwa« 
Tha thcphani to warn of tha (rrcy-brcaklng dawa , 
And thou mellow marto, that halla tha altht4h'i 
Olva ofar Ibr pi ^ ' a ^ y tTaaalaii awa*. 

OoBM, aatama. Ma paaalva, la yallaw and giajr. 
And wotlM ma wi' tkllnfi & natuia'a daeay 
Tha dare, dreary wintar, and wild-drlvlng aaaw, 
JLhuaa aaa daltght n»a— my H aante^ tanf. 


^ Sae merry as we twa ha'e been. 

Sae merry as we twa ha'e been ! 

^M mewg u^ fee Ja'e h^m. 

My heart it will break ere the spring. 
As I think on the days that are gane. 

[This is the title of a verj' old air, which is to 

be fouud in our oldest musical collections. The 

original words to the tund are probably lost. The 
old chorus, however, is retained in the following 

p?a]p mt fei* tj)^ |iett!c©at. 

beautifully-natural song, which was first pnnted 

in Herd's collection, 1776. Burns characterizes 

[Thhrb was an old nursery song, the words of 

the cliorus as " truly pathetic." 

which ran somewhat thus : 

** Sae merry as we twa ha'e been. 

" I'LL hap ye wi' my petticoat, 

Sae merry as we twa ha'e been ! 

My ain kind dow ; 

My heart it is like for to break. 

I'll hap ye wi' my petticoat. 

When 1 think on the days we ha'e seen." 

My ain kind dow. 

The version here given of the present scng differs 

The wind blaws cauld, my claithing's thin,— 

somewhat, but chiefly in verbal points, from that 

dearie, on me rue ; 

Riven by Herd.] 

And hap me wi* thy petticoat. 
My ain kind dow." 

A LASS that was laden wi* care 

The tune to which this was sung was one of great 

Sat heavily under a thorn ; 

beauty and simplicity, although its simplicity 

I listen'd a while for to hear. 

has been somewhat injured by modem changes. 

When thus sii€ began for to mourn :— - 

Ramsay wrote the following words to the tune. 

Whene'er my own lover was near. 

but mistook himself greatly, we think, when he 

Tiie birds seem'd far sweeter to sin^ ; 

endeavoured to weave the words of a nurse's 

The cold nipping winter-time wore 

lulliby into an impassioned lover's address.] 

A face that resembled the spring. 

Sae merry as we twa ha'e been. 

Bell, thy looks ha'e kill'd my heart. 

Sae merry as we twa ha'e been ! 

J pass the day in pain; 

My heart is like for to break. 

When night returns, 1 feel the smart, 

When 1 think on the days we ha'e seen. 

And wish for thee in vain. 
I'm starving cold, while thou art warm ; 

There was love in his sweet silent looks. 

Have pity and incline. 

There was love in the touch of his hand; 

And grant me for a hap that charm- 

I liked mair tiie glance o' his e'e. 

ing petticoat of thine. 

Then a' the green earth to command : 

A word, and a look, and a touch- 

My ravish'd fancy in amaze 

Hard-hearted, oh ! how cnuld I be ? 

Still wanders o'er thy charms, 

Oh ! the cauldest lass i' the land 

Delusive dreams ten thousand ways 

Wad ha'e sigh'd and ha'e melted like me ! 

Present thee to my arms. 

Sae merry as we twa ha'e been, 

But waking, think what I endure. 

Sae merry as we twa ha'e been ! 

While cruel thou decline 

I wonder my heart disna break, 

Those pleasures, which alone can cure 

When I think on the days we ha'e seen. 

This panting breast of mine. 

But now he is far, far awa'. 

I faint, I fail, and wildly rove. 

Between us is the rolling sea ; 

Because you still deny 

And the wind that wafts pleasure to a'. 

The just reward that's due to love. 

Brings nae word frae Willie to me. 

And let true passion die. 

At night, when the rest o' the folk 

Oh ! turn, and let compassion seize 

Are merrily seated to spin. 

That lovely breast of thine ; 

I sit mysel' under an oak, 

Thy petticoat could give me ease. 

A -heavily sighing for him. ^ 

f If thou and it were mine. 



And tlMWrt too food te iBW to tUght, 

By hind ting thodMlgik 
lf«y*n the powcnoriofoagrM^ 

At length to nnh* theo mlne^ 
Or loow my ehatno nad Hi om tim 

From trwy charm of thteo. 

TTntt ditty, which bwthM 
•enae and rural contmtmtnt. Is 
•ong in the Tia-Tablo MlMtllowj, It li at hMt 
older than the beginning of taMt W lai y, m It 
appear* in " Pill* to Porgo MdaacMT* (^^ *«L 
eirea 1700,) where It le e iiO Ba o ai< | tfbvelid 

■ung to the tone of ** OoM and Baw.* 
nine old afa- of *'TIm OMmtiy Laarli gHw hi 
Johaeon'a Museam. The a( i w|i aiaU »a | | OMdera 
tune of "Sally In ottraDqr MoawlMU NMnUMlt.] 

ALTMooon I be bat a ooantry kM, 
Tet a lofty nJnd I bear, 0| 

And think myeel' ae rich aa thOM 
That rich appatH wear, O. 

Although my gown be hame ipua grry, 

Aa tbHB that Mtfai waada 4o «wr. 

What tbMgk t Imp My IMkM^ **viW 

Tht thing Ikat nam ha «0M» O ( 
WithgaHaadicrthal— t luww. 

To ihada na ftaa tiM H«» O ^ 
When they aia tadta« plnMilly. 

Whera graa and Oowat* do opting, O » 
Tlten, on a flowary bank, at aooB, 

i Mt ma down and elng, O. 

»Iy Paleley pigiry, corked with ■«•, 

Contain* my drink but thin, U | 
h'o winea did e'er my bralne angiigi. 

To tempt my mtnd to atai, O. 
Hy country entda and wooden epoon, 

I think than anoo toe, O } 
And on a flowery bank, at noon, 

1 let ae doan and dine, O. 

A Ithoagh my paranta cannot ralaa 
Great baga of ahlning gold, O, 

Like them whaae daaghteta, now a-day», 
iika ewlaa, are heaffht and aold. O t 


TVongh ba want gear. 1 dlnaa aara, 

My bands 1 «aa tanpavM. 0| 
Xspaetlng kr a hIaaUag sua 

DasBsndtag ftoB aboea, O I 
TkM wati anbmaa. aad aewst^ IdK 

■aiwatlH — '■<^fa*«» O' 

floumfi tit limitx, 

[WnuAm Oaaas. Hats tnt prfatsd^— TWMk 
«* Ow the BMilr aoMBg 

Aaaiia tha bnaa akt 

la ewnal Ua9% dsHghlfli' wea th er. 

Bat Uytha and ao«a«y wan bar kaa. 
And ttght bar atsp amaM tba beat 

To tall ma tiaa aba dMaa awlthar, 
ly ibe bMig bar bead, 

Mam ha^a a etaek whan thay tefatbar. 

We ^laka ^ khto, wa apaka «r tdia. 

The aproating com, the boanle waalbari 

O* every thing wa talk'd but love, 

Thoagh hwa waa a' aar thoagbti lbsgltba> 


Could I keep still my louping heart, ^ Why lov'd I the deserving swain. 

Or ae word right put to auither. 

Yet still thought shame, yet still thought sliame. 

"When for my ain 1 tried to claim 

When he my yielding heart did gain, 

' The bonnie lass amang the heather ? 

To own my flame, to own my flame ? 
Why took I pleasure to torment. 

Ah no! though lang I ettled sair. 

And seem too coy — ai;d seem too coy ? 

My tongue could never slip the tether, 

Which makes me now, alas ! lament 

Eut weel the lassie guess'd my mind 

My slighted joy, my slighted joy. 

That night amang the blooming heather. 

Ye fair, while beauty's in its spring. 

The balmy air, the glowing slty. 

Own your desire, own your desire ; 

The thymey sod, the blo^ ming heather. 

While love's young power, with his soft wing. 

And sic an angel by my side— 

Fans up the fire, fans up the fire. 

I trow 'twas heaven a' thegither! 

Oh ! do not with a silly pride. 
Or low design, or low design. 

The night grew late before we wist, 

Refuse to be a happy bride. 

It took us hours to part wi' ither ; 

But answer plain, but answer plain." 

And now she's mine, the bonnie lass 

That staw my heart amang the heather. 

Thus the fair mourner wail'd her crime. 
With flowing eyes, with flowing eyes; 
Glad Jamie heard her all the time. 

^|e Ea^^ o' Eil^feg'^t©M. 

With sweet surprise, with sweet surprise. 
Some god had led him to the grove. 

[This is the name of an old tune and old song. 

His mind unchang'd, his mind unchang'd. 

Burns says, " The old song, in three eight line 

Flew to her arms, and ciy'd, My love. 

etanzas, is well known, and has merit as to M'it 

I am reveng'd, I am reveng'd. 

and humour; but it is rather unfit for insertion. 

It begins. 

• The bonnie lass C Livingstone, 

Her name ye ken, her name ye ken. 
And she has written in her contract 

fll^w^g U a %uh^. 

To lie her lane, to lie her lane,' &c." 

The following song to the tune of " The Lass o' 

[This sweet little song, headed, " Address to a 

Livingstone," was written by Ramsay, and pub- 

Lady," was written by Burns, to the tune of 

lished'in the first volume of the Tea-Table Mis- 

'• The Lass o' Livingston." The lady in question 


was Mrs. Riddel of Woodleigh Park.] 

Pain'd with her slighting Jamie's love. 

Oh, wert thou in the cauld blast. 

Bell dropt a tear, Bell dropt a tear ; 

On yonder lea, on yonder lea; 

The gods descended fiom above. 

My plaidie to the angry airt, 

Well pleased to hear, well pleased to hear ; 

I'd shelter thee, I'd shelter thee: 

They heard the praises of the youth. 

Or did misfortune's bitter storms 

From her own tongue, firom her own tongue. 

Around thee blaw, around thee blaw. 

Who now converted was to truth. 

1 Thy beild should be my bosom. 

And thus she sung, and thus she sung ; 

To share it a', to share it a'. 

*' Bless'd days ! when our ingenuous sex. 

Or were I in the wildest waste, 

More frank and kind, more frank and kind. 

Sae bleak and bare, sae bleak and bare. 

Did not their lov'd adorers vex. 

The desert were a paradise. 

But spoke their mind, but spoke their mind 

If thou wert there, if thou wert there. 

Repenting now she prom is'd fair. 

Or were 1 monarch o' the globe. 

Would he return, would he return. 

Wi' thee to reign, wi' thee to reign ; 

Bhe ne'er again would give him care. 

The brightest jewel in my crown, 

Or cause him mourn, or cause him mourn. ^ 

1? Wad be my queen, wad be my queen. 




fTtif tf rook WB^ yUl^ 

[Rbt. Hmmr S. RnsciA.] 

X waniA tent (kt kiMto tiMt Ml tiM cut Md piMtk, 
nai«li h* iboaU •«« tiHU taodM- tew UmM «i4j tMl ly ftrvi 
Vtar h* UMft tea tkte bOM* A* l» tarfMl te*» kMntyM. 
b tka klad aad MUdb* teMte UK* WW* tht OToak aai VteM. 

At nora IM dtato Om nomriM «1M, kb flMcy fedk to vtew, 
WkM tte terta ri^ ki Un knvMi akoM, n4 tkt AMNn mik* ^H 
WbM tiM tkta ntei BMlli ••>>• tlMAMm, oww pdr and ftea aMmrC 

▲i MM W teuM Mm *»w«. Mik 
WlMi hk locki ted a* «■ boMflto kdMT Mb to tte Ml I 
Aad tkm ka itafi ar IMklkl totok tn Ika wlUi avaaad an gtod } 
Ok, kofv tenv te ika toMte Ikaft Man Ika araak airt ptoM t 

Ba pa** tka Uaona af knikar pvK, and tta VfAaalr na aaak, 

ikad MM aM akaim na Oka Ika ted Itel Mua Ika anak aad ptoM. 

Bmill toalaMtykawrtboM-toMbiaildinartogtolkaitea, 
Ba anala BM to tka ftaaakta* giagr, wkM MM M aartk aM kMi 
ABd taal and to«tw te Ma h«ut toMBik Ika ipnadtof rfwia. 
fto Mai ba IMM tka My, 1 tn», to nv na to Mi fkrfd. 

Tha foatk «> naiqr ttekn nay to kte Ilk aM rtda^ 

And iroo Mnn a toMa Mi MMfHttted toMat 

Bat M vttl WM toMalk Ika ton, wkan cknk to akaak k teto^ 

Ok. MM Maart ttto tM toddte Ikat MM na to Mi plaM I 

Ta ««ra ika tain ar Mikli* taM, ak, wkA Md M aanvlr y 

Wkan ton te to tka baaan tkM, tka kaan aM M^n to nd I 

■m, ttoMgk Ul^ ill li^ tka laddte tint Man Iba anak aad pteM. 

Vrince einxUi lEDtoatD. 

(pATW TasDam.— ArrmntMl to a bnatliUI flaalte air Igr ftakqr Dm.] 

Taukwmvl to thn, ^aetUad, thy la idm b bHgktid, 
Th jr daMM an itovpad in tka Mead of tha bran t 

And I. who thy wm^ with tka avoid wMid kan ilgktod. 
An toand Ilka » fhffiUn nrf M tki «mn t 


Impelled to the pursuit, by gold and by vengeance. 

My foemen are swift as the storm -driven rack; 
From the fierce brutal tribes they've selected their engines. 

The beagles and blood-hounds are scenting my tract. 

Farewell to thee, Scotland, thy hills are receding. 

So beagles and blood-hounds can track as they may; 
But my heart to its centre is wounded and bleeding. 

For thousands who fell on Culloden's dark day. 
The hill-fox's howl, and the lone widow's waitings. 

Commingle at midnight, 'midst tempest and rain; 
And the red mountiiin-streanilets by smouldering sheilings, 

Brawl hoarsely and fiercely the dirge of the slain. 

The chieftains and heroes who followed my banner 

Are pining in dungeons, and bleaching on walla; 
Or, stripp'd of their all, saving conscience and honour^ 

The grass growing rank on their hearths and their halls. 
Farewell to thee, Scotland, thy loftiest mountain 

Is fading and blending with ocean and sky, 
I groan — for my tears are dried up at the fountain — 

A wanderer I've lived, and an exile I'll die. 

[John Borns.] 

Let me gaze on those mountains, with heath overgrown 
'Mid whose wild flowers I sported, ere sorrow I knew ; 

Let me leave them one tear, ere my bark shall be thrown 
O'er the wave that may hide them for ever from view ! 

Though I go to a land as enchanting and fair — 
That has comforts as many, and troubles as few— 

Where the heart, all it pants for, as freely may share. 
And find its attachments as tender and true — 

Yet the place of our birth, like our earliest love. 
To the throb of affection must ever be dear; — 

And kind, or severe, as our fortune may prove. 

We look back on that spot— with a smile— or a tear. 

Oh yes ! there's no loadstone that equals our home. 
Nor II agnet so true as the pulse of the heart:— 

And the mem'ry of boyhood, where'er we may roam. 
Sheds a ray o'er the mind that will never depart 

Farewell, Caledonia ! thou first in contending 
Against the oppressors of freedom and truth — 

May I fall like my fathers — thy blessings defending — 
And Bleep 'neath the turf I h.ave trod in my youth I 


'WmiTTSir by A ToBOf La4y»-Tteib "V^ f 

How Ittrd^ tha ftto of wooiMkiiii, 

Wlwa I think oat IbmkMt 
Whca tlM7 BiMt a jpooag nMiM iMr MlBdt 
Tbqr dMVM taO kr a that, 
rw •' that and a' that; 
And twlet as ncOdt^ a* that! 
Thoofh thqr lo't th* laOdl* aw MM ««!» 
Thay 4araia tan kr a' tha*. 

^w wona^ MC MMonoai^ 

WMeh aaans thk and a* ttwl. 
Can ■• aonMal oar IbodHi 



I «mr I win te aoM oTlhMB 
nat plajr tht tMl and a* thai t 

Whm 1 niMt a jfooat !■>■ ' 
in tdll lota tea* that. 

Th« borate hid tlwt I lo^ hMl, 
MaD ba agr ala ftir a* thai. 

Skralt'* (licit t**. 

Tmb ■» latat MM roqr. tha grqr hBb 

Light tpnat th» bwi* andmoanlid—'htoi 
Whn tnM ta tha Upti ¥ b^ytht Magni dawto 

My Jcaai* cam* UoMoff out own tht gMM ha. 
To n-jtfh b«r tanpatlcnet, 1 crap 'maag tha bodMBs t 

▲ft.afi to tha kaat fato aba tara'd hw blaakt>i| 
Than l yl i^ duwa d owij l ia ^alth^ bythawmewrtiaa, 

■yi «iiaagh tha fiani bhto I ata- to mj Jawal. 

SmOCd on apftariflBipataaaath tha aai^ tnai 
Thiak aa, daar hMth, thgr WOUaM baaa onMl^ 

lM« hid -Miw tha bnhMM I waMhM fav 
TeaVa ao ilinlin, paarfeli Uamx apas Ihaa 

Biant la Hw priMaaa hMfai«lad «r dnr I 
Taadar aoHMa FiH9 ta awlaana May aMtahiti 

O I htkl, Hlht *a^ daMfaw baan 

la liinl^ atm. II ite and ipeit 

•* I ana ^b«» aad jar«a vahaa^d M r 

ra rta Md wbiri hv laaadi Jaaala la * iplM 

KlBhvtaalaglahwi aaaaaaaaaaaai 

• Mwj ■Ma.-^WID, I'M aa 

Mi Hha ta dn^ awtlh ta ny Jaaa I hip, 

Sntftt lift foa^ gap. 

CTvn, "My M^Jaaad daarta, O.*^ 

JIaa aavM ta BMh* Ma aafla. 0( 
9r btohan ihaw I «taa' aaag, 

Aa* taaad nay plpa Ih* ahaaita, 0| 
Vaa UfdK afa^hi- ftaa tha traa, 
Waa haaf «a mrtha, aaa lay aa BMW 

f I am idirp, do not wakan 

— , 

Whaa baat o^ haart mm tanly. O, 
Whan kr 5aa Qatha^ ^Haa bowwa, 

. 1 


I sought the long embattled line, ^ Thou knew'st my heart was a' thy ain. 

Eager in glory's path to shine- 

And thine thou vow'dst was mine alone; 

But dool cam' owre the hapless time 

But cursed gold has made us twain. 

I yielded to the fairlie, 0. 

Whom heaven had fated to be one. 

But sin' the dearest bliss o' man, 

Farewell, thou still beloved maid. 

That wyles our way sae drearie, 0, 

Love, rage, and grief, my soul disarms ; 

The brawest lass in a' the Ian', 

For never, never could I've staid. 

SmUes on me kind an' cheerie, 0; 

To see thee in another's arms. 

Contented wi' my peacefu' lot. 

No more by Avon's streams we'll stray. 

My sorrows now are a' forgot; 

Nor pu' the wild flowers as they blaw ; 

An' monie mae I wad bear for't. 

No longer hsten to the lay. 

If blest wi' thee, my dearie, ! 

That's carol'd through the burken shaw. 

woman, man's delight an' care ! 

The sweetest pride o' nature, 0, 

Eeposes on her bosom fair. 
Sits smilin' on ilk feature, ! 

^u^l, ge ml2 hxui^^. 

Man may be bold, he may be strong, 

Way figure through life's chequer'd throng. 

[Andrew Simson.— Tune, " Bonnie Dundee."] 

But stai the bard, in deathless song. 

The chief o* works will rate her, ! 

Hush, bush, ye rude breezes, my Harry is comin'. 

Nor aim at my lover the blasts tliat ye blaw. 
For he'd come to my arms, though the burn it 

was foamin'. 
In winter or summer, thro' sleet or thro' snaw. 

;^awfedl U ^^U-mzU. 

He hears not, nor fears not your blustering thunder. 
But thinks his dear lassie how soon he shall see ; 
And oh ! may rude fate never cast us asunder. 

[Andrew Simson.] 

Nor blast all the hopes of my Harry and me. 
My Harry is blythsome, my Harry is cheerie. 

Farewell, ye vales where Avon flows. 

Wi' him ilk thing round me looks bonnie and 

Farewell, ye hills that rise around. 

braw; [drearie. 

Farewell, abodes of sweet repose. 

But ilk thing aroun' me looks darksome and 

Where innocence and peace abound. 

If e'er he gaes frae me, or turns to gae 'wa. 

Iso more beside your streams I'll stray. 

Lang ha'e I lo'ed him, an' never, never. 

Nor pu' the wild flowers as they blaw; 

Can I think my dear laddie for ever to lea' ; 

No longer listen to the lay. 

But if 'tis our fate that death should us sever. 

That's carol'd through the birken shaw. 

One gi-ave shall receive both my Harry and me. 

Farewell, Pomilion's flowery braes. 

Whose murmuring rills so sweetly fa'. 

Where aft I've spent the summer days. 
When sorrow's hand was far awa' ! 

€)'ex tie mi0t=^|tc©u^3:^. 

Thou'st listen 'd to the lover's wail. 

As am'rously thou glided through; 

[J. BuRTT.— Tune, "Banks of the Devon."] 

Thou'st listen'd to my artless tale. 

But never heard'st a tale so tiue. 


Farewell, thou dear ungratefu' maid. 

1 Where the wild winds of winter incessantly rave ; 

Thou'lt mind me when I'm far awa'; 

j What woes wring my heart, while intently sur- 

Aid but for thee, I might have staid. 

1 veying [wave. 

To breathe the gales that round thee blaw. 

1^ The storm's gloomy path on the breast of the 




I Mllawt •Dow «M to widl. 

Xfft ft toa 0M afiv lk«B a«f lovad Mthw dhoi* 
Wh— tlwflwwrwhkhbloooi'diiiiiHiHlaOoila^ 

Thapcfclaof my bo«m,iBj Ma>7^iioBMt«l 

Vo ntora by Um bankaoTUM ilrMmWC wtH vrmadcr. 


Ko - ----- 

4 Mybnthm! mylNttnB, wtaMMVI 


I hMto with Um Morm to a a 
Who* aBloMmm, rakHMBtod, ■ 

▲ad Joy ilMiL Mvlill Hf boHB 

'WBrrraM by W. A. C.8itA«»,aMttT««r Ab«w 
dMo. m4 tm F«bU*bMl la **Tte Edtotaisk 
UolfcnUy 8oar«alr/ ilt<. a luti* Tolaa* 9i 
which ih« Mihor wai Btttor. 

Qy W» Md 4»1» M to day* aTyvM, 

In aatl^M fariaad aad wfld tatoM, 

~ aadkMiariH 

>drr.dfef««f aMtalBf IdlaoUMlMrl AtoM^ alHM» to *• cvmIbc toaM, 
gfBf*. By tor tu w y aMtft af any aatHa <■ — a. 


CO* <toAWFva».-rNn «to Ayr 


Atowa, a 

By tb«aow«ryBHV|*araigrMlH«il 

WMry. aad waa, aad Mat I ilaad, 
'Mid Um old fiaaa bowan of a^ IrtlMriai 

I bMf- th« (train or Um waadMtaf lOK 
In «>b and rwU 'aild tht kr<aff UBii 
SofUy bimt, m UMy d 

Aa aaM daltod fMaay. aad hib •«• tkalr toaat 
~ mmmh$fktitl%wmm. 

b toad to lk» briva M a mMmt oaaM to I 
■m gfto Mai hb av. Md ilM flto hha toi 
Par waa JokaiV I>«Maa to a* badr* a 

Oh,wo«|oh.waal that «y toart ■beaM waar 
The duU dark thadow oTfrtoTaad eaia. 
With wood, and laka. aad atn 
At flTMh aad adr as la tiBMi of aU I 

Again I timi to my fitthcr^ 
Uut U rings no mor« with th* toa« ornrirfb| 
And I UM In rain, la thr aiawt oaha. 
For tha low glad noto of tha tvtaing p«fan. 

Thrnooni Um mooa t bvt dio looba not la 
On ohildhoodt laafhttr and nMaboodl din ! 
LMMly aad dhn tor pato skaaM AUl 
O'ar bioton bUUci aad etombll^ wan ! 


And Oha hit toirit aaaati Johaay a Mra*. 
Tha ftoov flto aaady aad any aHBpatoai 
For waa Jahaay Daaoaa to a' bedTb waaa. 

BaMtototlii Cto i UhB aMa i i db ia tl MatthrPwwaa, 
Aa* gtowanat tka R iei u i t , aa* naa^ tfyly bnkto*. 
Th>aftorw >y , l aa ihlat ,**BBy,wharaiaynatoi» 

la tky BMahood, d«r Johaay, toyH not to aiy. 
** la Mrrow, aad iietonw, tha Lord waany Mny,** 
And thtok aa tht d«|t that caa aoaia aet agaHi, 


(^uttk'0 OTet^^ing, " 

t Happy, thou Indian grove, I'll say. 

Where now my Nancy's path may be ! 
While through thy sweets she loves to stray, 

[From " Ancient Ballads and Songs of the 

Oh, tell me, does she muse on me f 

North of Scotland," collected by Peter Buchan : 

Edinburgh, 1828.] 

Busk and go, busk and go. 

Busk and go to Cuttie's wedding! 

JMg loade JEatg. 

Wha wad be the lass or lad 

That wadua gang an they were bidden? 

[In a letter to Mrs. Dunlop, dated 17th Dec, 
1788, Burns quotes this song, and " Should auld 

Cuttie he's a lang man. 

acquaintence be forgot," as old compositions, with 

he'll get a little wifie; 

which he is much pleased. He afterwards, in his 

But he'll tak' on to the town loan 

Notes on the Museum, says, " The silver Tassie ; 

When she tak's on her fickie-fykie. 

The air is Oswald's; the first half stenza of the 
song is old j the rest mine." Mr. Peter Buchan gives 

Cuttie he cam' here yestreen ; 

the ballad, from which Burns borrowed the first 

Cuttie he fell ower the midden ; 

four lines of this charming song. It commences 

He wat the house, and tint his shoon. 


Courtin' at a cankert maiden. 

" As I went out to take the air, 

'Twas on the banks of Diveron water. 

He sat him doun upon the green. 

I chose a maid to be my love. 

The lass cam' till him wi' a biddin'; 

Were it my fortune for to get her." 

He says. Gin ye were mine, my dame. 

And towards the close of the ballad occurs the 

Monie ane's be at our weddin'. 

verse of which Burns took advantage: 
" Ye'U bring me here a pint of wine. 

Busk and go, busk and go. 

A server and a silver tassie. 

Busk and go to Cuttie's wedding ! 

That I may drink, before I gang. 

Wha wad be the lass or lad 

A health to my ain bonnie lassie." 

That wadna gang an they were bidden ? 

The ballad, Mr. Buchan says, was composed in 
the year 1636, by Alexander Lesley, Esq. of Kdin 

on Diveron side, in honour of a certain Helen 
Christie. Burns wroie his song after seeing a 

m^M'^ ti^ "bmx. 

young officer take leave of his sweetheart at the 
pier of Leith, and embark for foreign service.] 

[Written by Burns for Thomson's collection 
to an Irish air called " Oran gaoil." The subject 
of the song was Clarinda, who contemplated 
going to the West Indies.] 

Go fetch to me a pint o* wine. 
And fill it in a silver tassie; 

That I may drink, before I go, 
A service to my bonnie lassie. 

Behold the hour, the boat arrive; 

The boat rocks at the pier of Leith, 

Thou goest, thou darling of my heart ! 

Fu' loud the wind blaws frae the ferry ; 

Sever'd from thee, can 1 survive ? 

The ship rides by the Berwick Law ; 

But fate has will'd, and we must part. 

And I maun lea' my bonnie Mary. 

I'll often greet this surging swell. 

Yon distent isle will often hail s 

The trumpets sound, the banners fly ; 

" E'en here I took my last farewell. 

The glittering spears are ranked ready ; 

There latest mark'd her vanish'd sail." 

The shouts o' war are heard afar; 
The battle closes thick and bloody: 

Along the solitary shore. 

But it's not the roar of sea or shore. 

While flitting sea-fowl round me cry. 

Would mak' me langer wish to tarry; 

Acr» ss the rolling, dashing roar. 

Nor shouts of war, that's heard afar. 

I'll westward turn my wistful eye : i 

y It'8 leaving thee, my bonnie Mary. 


tl. Bmrrr.] 

■oomsB floiio*. 

lb TW«a< 

Uow twwt to tlUvk «r thw I 
WkM blirtiM tht Mm c^ 4Mrai«' 

Ab4 IMi Biskn MM* •vBta*, 

An* tiM* tfM iMsM 4Mr4fi9 
sun tovmUw at Ik* flvowHiip^ 

Aa' «lMa fey Mmm, «r fawitida. 
In Sim. or M tte BMrniys, 
TiM BagMtac ■MaMBli coMtliv, 



0«| o^ ilM IriBi il0«r eaaJ«% 

My 4raHM art ft* «r Umb. 

TWslirfak wkM MmH avM tbM^ 
(> think wkni «H«i 4tab«i ikat. 
O think whMi irlMiiii UMi Uwi^ 
U* ktaa thM tklaka V thMl 

ftt^bkf to t^e %ti%u%. 

(J. Bvim.] 

Battaagll u* bM la yeatkH fay noni; 
If BMi *• UaoB •mdH yaar ek«k. 
fterawMl ymn- baaka, tte iMtm b •horn. 

Or ika fc iaai ya l a lia . 
If vataOr y« IM Uhm M«X 
Ikanml yvar knl% Iki fe 

Bat Vyaa M Ikak MaMM tf^ 

rknmMl yaar kaakB» th» kaim b 


Jhur If y* past «kal ka May mmt, 
flMawail yaar kaahi^ yaar kakat li Aonk 


Bkt awk* kkB aMMlv a^ yaar fw 
fkavwMl yMT kMk^ Ika kalalli 

■ tkBt«Mla4ika%f^ 

Lm Bk ka aanlk* a' kv • 
KaWttlBka^k-ki 1 

S.a8 of U^f Kq^i^^* 

4ae«aB af Seeaav Mnxsa, a«» «ai la I 
UM,altfM«aHya«»af twM«yt«a. Ha « 
aalHaaf Ok«vaw,ai " 
ikHiofilMlBir. Baa 

of giaal aMvtt to Iha pHtoOkab of tha diy. 
raaarkaUt, Ikat Mi "Uy of tha BmiiliM,- 


Oat woaUlk 




tto liafw of th« c ypn to b emk 
oaliB of iBy Mfly gmvai 



And my heart, with its pulses of fire and life, ^ Not where the repal streams 

Oh ! would it were still as stone ; 

Their foam-bells cast- 

I am weary, weary of all the strife. 

Where childho