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Full text of "The Songs of Scotland"



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THE GLEN COLLECTION OF SCOTTISH MUSIC 

Presented by Lady DOROTHEA RuGGLES-BRISE to 
the National Library of Scotland, in memory of her 
brother, Major LORD GEORGE STEWART Murray, 
Black Watch, killed in action in France in 1914. 

28th January 1927. 




Digitized by the Internet Archive 

in 2011 with funding from 

National Library of Scotland 



http://www.archive.org/details/songsofscotlandOOgrah 



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THE 



SONGS OF SCOTLAND 



ADAPTED TO THEIR APPROPRIATE MELODIES 



ARRANGED WITH PIANOFORTE ACCOMPANIMENTS BY 

G. P. GRAHAM, T. M. MUDIE, J. T. SURENNE, H. E. DIBDIN, 

FINLAY DUN, &c. 

SUuStrateb witlj historical, SSiogra^ical, anb Critical Notices 



BY G. F. GKAHAM, 

AUTHOR OP THE AKTICLE " MUSIC " IN THE SEVENTH EDITION OF THE ENCYCLOPAEDIA BRITANNICA, ETC. ETC. 



VOL. I. 



WOOD AND CO., 12, WATERLOO PLACE, EDINBURGH ; 

OLIVER & BOYD, EDINBURGH; CRAMER, BEA1E, & CHAPPELL, REGENT STREET; CHAPPELL, 

NEW BOND STREET; ADDISON & HODSON, REGENT STREET; J. ALFRED NOVELLO, 

DEAN STREET; AND SIMPEIN, MARSHALL, & CO., LONDON. 



MDCCCXLVIII. 



^ OFSCOTL 
V^O ) k- b U R &>^ 



E1HNUURGU I PRINTED HT T. CONSTABLE, PRINTER TO HER MAJESTY. 



INTRODUCTION. 



The plan of this Work was suggested to the Publishers by a perception of the want of a really cheap 
Collection of the best Scottish Melodies and Songs, with suitable Symphonies and Accompaniments, 
adapted to the Melodies ;* and with such information regarding the airs and the verses as might be 
interesting to the public. No work combining all these desiderata had appeared ; although no National 
Melodies have been so long and so extensively popular as those of Scotland. 



Of the actual state of National Music in Scotland prior to the 15th century, authentic history affords 
no distinct traces, although it appears that both poetry and music were highly esteemed in the south 
and east of Scotland, and on the English Border, as far back, at least, as the 13th century. No. III. 
of the Appendix to Mr. Dauney's work upon the Skene MS., 1838, contains curious matter regarding 
musical performers and teachers of music in Scotland, from 1474 to 1633. It is entitled "Extracts 
from Documents preserved in the General Register House at Edinburgh." 1. Extracts from the 
Accounts of the Lords High Treasurers of Scotland relative to Music. 2. Extracts from the Household 
Book of Lady Marie Stewart, Countess of Mar, Edinburgh. 3. Extracts from Accounts of the Common 
Good of various Burghs in Scotland, relative to Music-schools, &c. In these Extracts we find named 
Scottish and English pipers, several harpers and clarscha players, fiddlers, &c. ; with Italian and French 
performers upon the lute and other instruments, also singers, male and female. The fees given to the 
performers and teachers are stated, and it is evident that music was held in high esteem, and in all 
probability was considerably cultivated by the Court. We quote a few lines : — 

" Jul. 10. 1489. — Item, to Inglis pyparis that cam to the castel yet and playit to the King, . viij lib. vhj s. 
" Apr. 19. 1490. — To Martin Clareschaw, and ye toder ersche clareschaw, at ye Kingis command, . xviij s. 

" May. — Till ane ersche harper, at ye Kingis command, xviij s. 

"Aug. 1. 1496. — Giffin to the harper with the a hand, ......... ix s. 

" Apr. 19. 1497. — Item, to the twa fithelaris that sang Graystcil to ye King, ix s. 

"July 21. — To the menstralhs that playit before Monsf doun the gate, xiiij s. 

"Jan. 1503. — Item, to the four Italien menstralis, .......... vij lib. 

"Jan. 1507. — Item, that day giffin to divers menstralhs, schawmeris, trumpetis, taubroneris, fithelaris, 

lutaris, harparis, clarscharis, piparis, extending to lxix personis, x lib. xj s. 

" Feb. 16. 1508. — Item, to Wantonnes that the King fechit and gert Mr sing in the Quenis chamer,J . xiij s." 

Unfortunately, no Musical MSS. containing Scottish airs have come down to us of an earlier date than 
the 17th century. We have, therefore, no positive proof of the actual existence of any of our known 
airs until that time, although we have no doubt that many of them existed in a simple and rudimental 
state long previously. We say in a simple and rudimental state — for we find that the ancient versions 
of our airs that have been preserved in the MSS. which we shall presently notice, differ in a remarkable 
degree from their modern representatives, occasionally presenting the mere rude outline which an after 
age moulded into more perfect form, but more frequently disclosing melodies possessed of a charming 
simplicity, which the lapse of time has altered only to destroy. In this respect the music of Scotland is 
singularly at variance with a statement of Mr. Bunting, regarding National music generally, and that of 
Ireland in particular. In his preface to "The Ancient Music of Ireland," 1840, Mr. Bunting says: — 
" The words of the popular songs of every country vary according to the several provinces and districts 
in which they are sung ; as, for example, to the popular air of Aileen-a-roon, we here find as many dif- 
ferent sets of words as there are counties in one of our provinces. But the case is totally different with 
music. A strain of music once impressed on the popular ear never varies. * * * * For taste in 

* See Tokalitt, p. 164. f The famous piece of ordnance called " Mons Meg." 

t In order to form a correct estimate of the actual sums paid to these musicians, we must bear in mind that the items are stated in Scottish 
money, the value of which was only one-twelfth of money sterling ; and we must also take into consideration the prices of various articles of 
food about the same period. From the household book of James V., 1525, we learn that the cost, in Scottish money, of a beeve from grass, 
(raerta herbalis.) was thirty shillings ; a sheep, five shillings ; a boll of wheat, twenty-two shillings ; and a gallon of ale, twentypence. Thus, 
although the Italian minstrels got but lis. 8d. sterling amongst them, each man received the value of a sheep and an os. 



IV INTRODUCTION. 

music is so universal, especially among country people and in a pastoral age, and airs are so easily, 
indeed in many instances so intuitively, acquired, that when a melody has once been divulged in any 
district, a criterion is immediately established in almost every ear ; and this criterion being the more 
infallible in proportion as it requires less effort in judging, we have thus, in all directions and at all 
times, a tribunal of the utmost accuracy and unequalled impartiality (for it is unconscious of its own 
authority) governing the musical traditions of the people, and preserving the native airs and melodies 
of every country in their integrity, from the earliest periods." This assertion is not by any means borne 
out by a comparison of the ancient airs of Scotland, as preserved in MSB., with the traditionary versions 
of the same airs ; and further inquiry would incline us to the opinion that the same discrepancy exists 
in the music of all countries that have any ancient MSS. to place in juxtaposition with the modern airs 
as handed down by tradition. Sufficient proof of this, in as far as Scottish music is concerned, will be 
found scattered through the Notes appended to the airs. To these we refer for many particulars 
respecting our national music, which it is unnecessary here to repeat : we prefer occupying our limited 
space with some account of the various ancient MSS. which are alluded to in the course of the work, 
as well as of the principal modern editions of the Songs and Melodies of Scotland. 



ANCIENT SCOTTISH MANUSCRIPTS CONTAINING SCOTTISH MELODIES. 

SKENE MS. — Belongs to the Library of the Faculty of Advocates. Supposed by the eminent antiquary, David 
Laing, Esq., to have been written about thirty or forty years after the commencement of the seventeenth 
century. Translated by the Editor of this work ;' and the translation published, with a Dissertation, &c, by 
the late William Dauney, Esq., Advocate, in one vol. 4to, at Edinburgh, November 1838. It contains a 
number of Scottish airs, besides foreign dance-tunes. Mr. Laing says, that the collection was formed by John 
Skene of Hallyards, in Mid- Lothian, the second son of the eminent lawyer, Sir John Skene of Curriehill. 

STRALOCH MS.— Robert Gordon of Straloch's MS. Lute-book, dated 1627-29. A small oblong 8vo, at one time 
in the library of Charles Burney, Mus. Doc. ; then in that of the late James Chalmers, Esq., of London, after 
whose death it was sold with his other books and MSS. In January 1839, it was sent by Mr. Chalmers to 
Mr. David Laing of Edinburgh, for his inspection, and by Mr. Laing to the Editor of this work, who had per- 
mission to copy it. He made extracts from it, which are now in the Library of the Faculty of Advocates, 
Edinburgh. Robert Gordon of Straloch, in Aberdeenshire, was a distinguished person in his day. There is 
some perplexity occasioned by the difference of designation bestowed upon this gentleman by different writers. 
The late Mr. William Dauney, in the Appendix to his Dissertation upon the Skene MS., &c, calls him Sir 
Robert Gordon of Straloch, when referring to the MS. Lute-book of 1627-29. Mr. David Laing, in his nius- 
trations to Johnson's Museum, does not give him the Sir ; though in the preface, p. xxi., he calls him Sir 
Robert Gordon. We learn the following particulars of him from the Straloch papers, printed by the Spalding 
Club, in the first volume of their Miscellany, edited by their Secretary, John Stuart, Esq., Advocate : — Robert 
Gordon was the second son of Sir John Gordon of Pitlurg, and was born in 1580. Soon after his marriage 
in 1608, he bought the estate of Straloch, ten miles north of Aberdeen, the title arising from which he retained 
through life, although he succeeded to the estate of Pitlurg, by the death of his elder brother, in 1619. He 
devoted himself chiefly to the study of geography, history, and antiquities ; and so celebrated was he for his 
attainments as a geographer, that in 1641 he was requested by Charles I. to undertake the execution of an 
Atlas of Scotland. This he completed in 1648, with the assistance of his son, James Gordon, parson of 
Rotliiemay. It is the far-famed " Theatrum Scotise," — a work which is still considered one of the most accurate 
delineations of Scotland and its islands. Although chiefly known as a geographer and antiquary, Robert 
Gordon was much employed in various negociations between the contending factions in the time of Charles I. 
and the Commonwealth ; in proof of which, we find among the Straloch papers letters from the Marquis 
of Argyll, George Lord Gordon, the heroic friend of Montrose, and Lord Lewis Gordon, afterwards third 
Marquis of Huntly. As Sir John Gordon, his father, was knighted only by James VI., his title of course died 
with him, and we do not find that his son ever received any title as a reward for his services. His testament, 
dated 1657, commences, "I, Mr. Robert Gordon of Straloch, considering with myself my great age," &c. He 
died in August 1661. 

ROWALLAN MS.— A MS. Lute-book, written by Sir William Mure of Rowallan, who died in 1657, aged 63. It 
was probably written about the same time as the Straloch MS., and was lately in the possession of Mr. Lyle, 
Surgeon at Airth. Its contents are chiefly foreign dance-tunes, with a very few Scottish airs. Sir William 
Mure was distinguished as a scholar and a poet. See " Historie and descent of the house of Rowallane," from 
the original MS. by Sir William, edited by the Rev. Mr. Muir, Glasgow, 1825; and, "Ancient Ballads and 
Songs," by Thomas Lyle, 1827. 



INTRODUCTION. V 

LEYDEN MS. — Belonged to the celebrated Doctor John Leyden. It is now in the possession of Mr. James Telfer, 
Schoolmaster, Saughtrees, Liddesdale. It is written in tablature for the Lyra-viol, and was sent, in 1844, to 
the Editor of this work, with permission to transcribe and translate from it. The transcript he made from it, 
of all the tunes in tablature, is now in the Library of the Faculty of Advocates, Edinburgh. Its date is uncer- 
tain, but cannot be earlier than towards the close of the seventeenth century, since we find in it, " King James' 
march to Ireland," and " Boyne Water," both relating to events in 1690. It contains a number of Scottish 
tunes, some of which have been referred to in the Notes of this work. 

GUTHRLE (?) MS. — A number of Scottish and other tunes, in tablature, discovered by David Laing, Esq., in a 
volume of Notes of Sermons preached by James Guthrie, the Covenanting minister, who was executed in 1661, 
for declining the jurisdiction of the King and Council. See Mr. Dauney's Dissertation, pages 139-143. It is 
very doubtful when these tunes were written, and whether they were written by the same person who penned 
the rest of the volume. 

BLAIKTE MSS. — The late Mr. Andrew Blaikie, Engraver, Paisley, was in possession of two volumes written in 
tablature, each containing a number of Scottish airs. One of these volumes was dated 1683, and the other 
1692; the latter in tablature for the Viol da Gamba. The former was lost, but contained, with few excep- 
tions, only the same tunes as the later volume. Both MSS. were written in the same hand. See Mr. Dauney's 
Dissertation, pages 143-146. 

CROCKAT MS. — This MS. Music-book is frequently referred to by Mr. Stenhouse in his Notes on Johnson's 
Museum. It is dated 1709, and belonged to a Mrs. Crockat, of whom we have not been able to learn anything. 
The volume is now in the possession of Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe, Esq. 

MACFARLANE'S MSS. — " A collection of Scotch airs, with the latest variations, written for the use of Walter 
M'Farlane of that ilk. By David Young, W.M. in Edinburgh. 1740." 3 vols, folio. Belongs to the Society 
of the Antiquaries of Scotland. The first volume was lent many years ago, and was never returned. 

Besides these MSS. there are a few others, which are mentioned by Mr. Dauney, pages 146, 147, of his Disserta- 
tion. One, dating about the beginning of the eighteenth century; and another, 1706, in the possession of David 
Laing, Esq.; a third, dated 1704, belonging to the Advocates' Library; and a fourth, 1715, the property of Mr. 
Waterston, stationer in Edinburgh. It is probable that several old music-books in tablature may still be hidden 
in the repositories of Scottish families of rank ; and we would entreat the possessors of such books to rescue them 
from oblivion and destruction, by sending them to some public library for preservation. We are convinced, that 
many such books in tablature have been lost or destroyed within the last two centuries, through carelessness, and 
from ignorance of their value. 



PRINTED COLLECTIONS OF ANCIENT AND MODERN SCOTTISH MELODIES. 

Our limited space prevents us from giving a complete list of these Collections. The reader will find their titles 
and dates given by Messrs. Laing and Sharpe in the Introduction to Messrs. Blackwood's edition of Johnson's 
Museum, Edinburgh, 1839. We shall confine our list to a few of the most important modern Collections, accom- 
panied by such remarks as may seem appropriate. 

J OHNSON'S MUSEUM. — This is the earliest very extensive modern Collection of Scottish Melodies and Songs. It 
was published at Edinburgh, 1787-1803, and consisted of six volumes 8vo, containing 600 melodies with 
songs adapted to them by various authors ; and among these, Robert Burns, the most distinguished of all 
Scottish song-writers. A new edition of the work was published in 1839 by Messrs. Blackwood of Edin- 
burgh, containing a Preface and Introduction by David Laing, Esq., and very valuable Notes and Illustrations 
by Mm and by C. K. Sharpe, Esq., in addition to the Notes, &c, written by the late Mr. William Stenhouse. 
The music and poetry were reprinted from the original plates engraved by Johnson. To each melody in 
Johnson's Museum, there was nothing added in harmony, except a figured-bass for the harpsichord. The 
harmony intended, was merely indicated in the usual vague and arbitrary manner, by the arithmetical 
numerals;* and there were no introductory or concluding symphonies added to the melodies. The kind 
liberality of the Messrs. Blackwood has enabled the Publishers of this work to avail themselves of those valuable 
Notes and Illustrations above referred to ; and thus to render this new Collection much more interesting than 
it could otherwise have been. 

NAPIER'S COLLECTION.— The next Collection of Scottish Melodies and Songs was that published by William 
Napier, in London, in two volumes, folio. The first volume, dedicated to the Duchess of Gordon, was published 
in 1790. It contained eighty-one airs with songs, and the airs were harmonized by four professional musicians, 

• See Graham's Essay on Musical Composition for remarks on the absurd imperfections of figured-basses. A. & C. Black. Edinburgh. 1838. 



VI INTRODUCTION. 

viz., Dr. S. Arnold, William Shield, both Englishmen ; Thomas Carter, an Irishman ; and F. H. Barthclemon, 
a Frenchman, and eminent violinist. The harmony consisted of a figured-bass for the harpsichord, with a 
violin accompaniment. There were no introductory or concluding symphonies. The second volume was pub- 
lished in 1792, dedicated to the Duchess of York, and contained 100 other Scottish melodies and songs; the 
whole of the airs harmonized by that great composer Joseph Haydn. In this, as in the first volume, there 
were no symphonies ; and there was only a violin accompaniment printed along with the voice-part, and the 
harpsichord-part with its figured-bass. 

URBANFS (PIETRO) COLLECTION. — He was an Italian singer and music-teacher, settled for some years in 
Edinburgh. He died at Dublin in December 1816, aged 67. About the close of last century, he published 
" A Selection of Scots Songs, harmonized and improved, with simple and adapted graces," &c. The work 
extended finally to six folio volumes, and contained upwards of one hundred and fifty Scottish melodies, with 
their respective songs. The Melodies were harmonized by Urbani, with an accompaniment for the pianoforte ; 
the harmony filled up in notes for the right hand ; and the first four volumes have, besides, accompaniments 
for two violins and a viola, all printed in score, along with the voice-part. Each song has introductory and 
concluding symphonies. The sixth volume is dated 1804. The second volume was entered at Stationers' Hall 
in 1794 ; so that the first volume was probably published in 1792, or 1793, or even earlier. The want of the 
date of publication, in almost every musical work, is a very absurd omission, and often causes much difficulty 
and perplexity to the musical antiquary. Urbani's selection is remarkable in three respects ; the novelty of 
the number and kind of instruments used in the accompaniments; the filling up of the pianoforte harmony; 
and the use, for the first time, of introductory and concluding symphonies to the melodies. 

THOMSON'S (GEORGE) COLLECTION.— The Editor of this large and handsome work, in folio, was George 
Thomson, Esq., late of the Trustees' Office, Edinburgh — still living in a wonderfully vigorous old age. It appears 
that Mr. Thomson projected his work in 1792 — that he began his correspondence with Robert Burns in September 
1792, in order to obtain songs from that remarkable man ; and that their correspondence ended in July 1796, 
the month and year in which Burns died. Mi". Thomson engaged Pleyel, Kozeluch, and Haydn, at different 
times, and latterly Beethoven, Hummel, and Weber, to harmonize the melodies, and to compose introductory 
and concluding symphonies for them. In Mr. Thomson's work, the right-hand part for the pianoforte was 
written by the composer, with the harmony filled up in notes, as it ought to be played. This was a great 
improvement upon the former very uncertain system of figured-basses ; which were a kind of musical shorts 
hand, fitted only for the use of the most skilful harmonists and practical musicians. Separate accompaniments, 
&c, for violin or flute and violoncello were added to Mr. Thomson's work. The Editor of the present Collection 
lately requested Mr. Thomson to furnish him with some information regarding the dates, &c, of the different 
volumes of his work. Mr. Thomson was so obliging as to write to him as follows : — ■ 

" 26th October 1847. All that I can undertake to do, or which appears to me necessary, is to show you the 
date of publication of each volume or half volume of my Scottish Airs and Songs, as entered at Stationers' 
HaU — for which see next page — making six volumes folio, for the voice and pianoforte, with separate symphonies 
and accompaniments for the violin or flute, and violoncello — each volume having an engraved frontispiece, 
besides smaller engraved embellishments ; the symphonies and accompaniments composed by Pleyel, Kozeluch, 
Haydn, Beethoven, Hummel, and Weber ; — the songs written chiefly, above 100 of them, by Burns, and the 
rest by Campbell, Sir Walter Scott, Professor Smyth, Joanna Baillie, &c. 

" Note of the dates of publication of Mr. George Thomson's Scottish Airs and Songs, in six vols, folio : — 
" Vol. 1. — The 1st Book or half vol. of Airs and Songs, 25 in number, entered at Stationers' Hall June 1793 ; 
2d Book of do. ; together, a vol., ...... August 1798. 



" Vol. 2 

" Vol. 3.— The 5th and 6th Books of 50 do., 
" Vol. 4.— The 7th and 8th Books of 50 do., 
" Vol. 5.— The 9th and 10th Books, 33 do., and 32 do., 
" Vol. 6.— The 11th and 12th Books, of 50 do., 
" I published also an edition of these Airs and Songs in six vol 
wish for copies at a lower price than the folio." (1822.) 



July 1799. 
July 1802. 
June 1805. 
August 1818-1826. 
September 1841. 
royal 8vo, intended for persons who might 



WHYTE'S (WILLIAM) COLLECTION.— Published by William Whyte of Edinburgh, in 1806, in two volumes, folio. 
The first volume, dedicated to Lady Charlotte Campbell, contained forty Scottish melodies, harmonized by 
Joseph Haydn for the pianoforte, violin, and violoncello, with introductory and concluding symphonies to the 
melodies. The second volume contained twenty-five melodies, also harmonized by Haydn. 

SMITH'S (R. A.) COLLECTION.— This work, edited by Mr. R. A. Smith— who was for some years precentor of 
St. George's Church, Edinburgh — and by some other persons not named, consists of six vols. 8vo. The Adver- 
tisement to volume sixth is dated January 1824. It contains ancient and modern Scottish Airs and Songs. 
The accompaniment for the pianoforte is printed in notes as it is to be played. There are no introductory or 
concluding symphonies. 



INDEX 



TO THE FIRST LINES OF THE SONGS IN THE FIRST VOLUME. 



A Highland lad my love was born, 

A wee bird cam' to our ha' door, 

Alas, my son, you little know, (App.) 

Alas, that I cam' o'er the muir, 

At gloamin', if my lane I be, 

Behind yon hills, where Lugar flows, . 

Blythe, blythe, and merry are we, 

Blythe, blythe, and merry was she, (App.) 

Bonnie wee thing, 

Braw, braw lads, 

Busk ye, busk ye, (App. ICO,) 

By Logan's streams that rin sae deep, 

Cam' ye by Athol, 

Ca' the yowes to the knowes, (App. 165,) 

Come, gie's a sang, Montgomery cried, 

Cope sent a challenge frae Dunbar, (App.) 

Duncan Gray cam' here to woo, 

Farewell, thou fair day, 

For lack of gold, 

Get up, gudewife, don on your claise, (App.) 

Gin I had a wee house, 

Gloomy winter's now awa', (App. 159,) 

Hear me, ye nymphs, 

Here awa', there awa', wandering Willie, 

Here's a health to ane I lo'o dear, 

How blythe ilk morn was I to see, (App.) 

How sweet this lone vale, 

I lo'e na a laddie but ane, 

I'm wearin' awa', Jean, 

In winter, when the rain rain'd cauld, 

Is there, for honest poverty, 

It was upon a Lammas night, 

I've heard them lilting, (App. 159,) 

I've seen the smiling, 

John Anderson, my jo, John, . 

Lassie wi' the lint-white locks, . 

My love's in Germany, 

My love she's but a lassie yet, . 

Oh ! Alastair Macalastair, 

O Charlie is my darling, 

Of a' the airts the wind can blaw, 

O Logan, sweetly didst thou glide, (App.) 

O Logie o' Buchan, Logie the laird, 

O love will venture in, 

O meikle thinks my love, 

O mirk, mirk, is this midnight hour, . 

O open the door, Lord Gregory, 



VAGK 

64 

114 

160 

88 

143 

31 

58 

163 

6 

50 

38 

70 

74 

94 

52 

168 

122 

136 

146 

162 

14 

6 

18 

66 

134 

163 

26 

130 

78 

44 

152 

48 

2 

4 

128 

144 

28 

116 

68 

90 

86 

164 

82 

110 

24 

54 

55 



O puirtith cauld, 

O send Lewie Gordon hame, 

O sweet are thy banks, bonnie Tweed, 

O this is no my ain lassie, 

O thou broom, thou bonnie bush o' broom, 

O true love is a bonnie flower, 

Out owre yon moss, 

O waly, waly, up the bank, 

O wha is she that lo'es me, 

O whistle, an' I'll come to you, 

Oh! why left I my hame 1 

Pibroch of Donuil Dhu, 

Robin is my only joe, 

Saw ye Johnnie comin' ? 

Saw ye my father % 

Scots, wha ha'e wi' Wallace bled, 

The blairin' trumpet sounded far, 

The e'enin' sun was glintin' bright, 

The hills of my Highlands, 

The laird o' Cockpen, he's proud and he's great, 

The last time I cam' o'er the muir, (App.) 

The love that I had chosen, 

The murmur of the merry brook, 

The news frae Moidart cam' yestreen, 

The weary pund, the weary pund, 

The winter it is past, 

There's auld Rob Morris, 

There cam' a young man to my daddy's door, 

There grows a bonnie brier bush, 

There's nought but care on ilka han', 

Thou art gane awa', 

Thou hast left me ever, Jamie, 

'Twas in that season, 

We'll meet beside the dusky glen, 

Whar' ha'e ye been a' day, 

What beauties does Flora disclose, (App.) 

When o'er the hill the eastern star, 

When the sheep are in the fauld, 

When the sun o'er Kelly-law, (App.) . 

When wild war's deadly blast, 

Where are the joys I have met in the morning 

Why should I, a brisk young lassie, 

Will ye go, lassie, go, to the braes o' Balquhidder, 

Will ye go to the ewe-bughts, Marion? 

Wilt thou be my dearie 1 

Ye maun gang to your father, Janet, 

Young Jamie lo'ed me weel, 



PAOB 

106 

40 

104 

108 

56 

32 

51 

100 

46 

36 

12 

96 

10 

132 

103 

80 

■ 154 

72 



INDEX 



TO THE AIRS CONTAINED IN THE FIRST VOLUME, AND ALSO TO THOSE 
MENTIONED IN THE NOTES. 



PAGB 

Alas, that I cam' o'er the muir, . . 88 

Alastair Macalastair, .... 68 

Andro and his cutty gun, ... 58 

Auld Robin Gray, (Scotch air,) . . 20 

Auld Robin Gray, (English air,) . . 22 

Auld Rob Morris, .... 126 

Bide ye yet, {App. 160,) ... 14 

Blythe, blythe, and merry was she, {App. 163,) 58 

Bonnie Prince Charlie, ... 74 

Bonnie wee thing, .... 8 

Busk ye, busk ye, (App. 160,) . . 38 

Ca' the yowes to the knowes, (App. 165,) . 94 

Charlie is my darling, .... 90 

Colle to me the rysshys green, (note,) . 31 

Comin' thro' the broom, (note,) . . 51 

Corn rigs, ..... 48 

Duncan Gray, ..... 122 

Fair Janet, ..... 92 

Fy to the hills in the morning, (note,) . 155 

For a' that, and a' that, (App. 167,) . 152 

For lack of gold, .... 146 

Gala water, ..... 50 

Gloomy winter's now awa', (App. 159,) . 6 

Green grow the rashes, O ! . . . 30 

Happy Dick Dawson, (note,) . . . 131 

Haud awa' frae me, Donald, (note,) . . 77 

Here's a health to ane that's awa', . . 134 
Hey now the day dawis, (note and App.) . 79-165 

Hey, tuttie tattie, (App. 165,) . . 78-80 

I am the Duke of Norfolk, (note,) . . 129 

I had a horse, and I had nae mair, . . 106 

I lo'e na a laddie but ane, (App. 166,) . 130 
I will not go to my bed till I suld die, (App. 168,) 156 

Jock the laird's brither, (note,) . . 127 

John Anderson, my jo, ... 128 

John, come kiss me now, (note,) . . 129 

Johnnie Cope, (App. 167,) . . . 154 

Johnnie Faa, . . . . . 114 

Kind Robin lo'es me, . . . . 10 

Lady Badinscoth's reel, (note,) . . 117 

Lady Cassilis' lilt, (note,) . . . 115 

Lewie Gordon, .... 40 

Locheil's march, (note,) ... 97 

Logan water, (App. 164,) ... 70 
Logie o' Buchan, . .82 

Lord Balgonie's favourite, (note,) . 7 

Lord Gregory, . 54 

Miss Admiral Gordon's strathspey, (notes, 13, 85,) 86 

Morag, ...... 46 

My ain kind dearie, .... 142 

My boy Tammy, .... 60 

My love's in Germany, ... 28 

My lodging is on the cold ground, (note,) . 131 

My love she's but a lassie yet, . . . 116 

My Nannie, O, . . . . . 34 

My tocher's the jewel, .... 24 

Muirland Willie, (?wte,) ... 61 

Of a' the airts the wind can blaw, . . 86 

Oh! why left I my hame? ... 12 



Oran an aoig, 

O waly, waly, 

O whistle, an' I'll come to you, 

Paul's steeple, (note,) 

Put up thy dagger, Jamie, (note,) 

Roslin Castle, 

Rothiemurchus' rant, 

Saw ye Johnnie comin'i (App. 166,) 

Saw ye my father? 

Send him hame, 

Tak' your auld cloak about ye, (App. 162,) 

Tarry woo', (note,) 

The birks of Invermay, 

The bonnie brier bush, 

The bonnie black eagle, (note,) 

The brisk young lad, 

The braes o' Yarrow, 

The braes o' Balquhidder, 

The bridegroom grat, 

The broom o' the Cowdenknowes, (App. 163,) 

The bush aboon Traquair, 

The ewe-bughts, 

The flowers of the forest, (old air,) (App. 159, 

The flowers of the forest, (modern air,) 

The Gypsie laddie, 

The highway to Edinburgh, (note,) 

The house of Glammis, (note,) 

The lady's goune, (note and App.) 

The Laird o' Cockpen, 

The lassie lost her silken snood, (note,) 

The last time I cam' o'er the muir, (see, Alas 

I cam' o'er the muir,) (App. 165,) 
The lea rig, 

The lowlands o' Holland, (?iotes,) 
The lone vale, 
The mill, mill, O, 

The muckin' o' Geordie's byre, (note,) 
The pibroch of Donuil Dhu, 
The posie, 

The soldier's return, 
The song of death, 
The souter's daughter, (note,) 
The weary pund o' tow, (App. 167,) 
The white cockade, 
The winter it is past, 
There was a pretty May, 
This is no my ain house, 
Thou art gane awa', 
Tullochgorum, 
Tweedside, (App. 166,) 
Twine weel the plaiden, 
Wandering Willie, 
Welcome home, old Rowley, (note,) 
WhaTl be king but Charlie? 
When she cam' ben she bobbit, 
Wilt thou be my dearie ? 
Wo betyd thy weary bodie, (note,) 
Women's wark will never be done, (note,) 
Yon burn-side, .... 



136 

100 

36 

129 

117 

16 

144 

132 

102 

28 

44 

41 

72 

148 

25 

62 

38 

112 

20 

56 

18 

120 

2 

4 

114 
25 
17 
39, 162 
42 
33 
that 

88 

142 

13,84 

26 

124 
25 
96 

110 

124 

136 
99 

140 
64 

118 

110 

108 
76 
52 

104 
32 
66 
77 

138 
42 
98 
9 
25 

150 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



THE FLOWERS OF THE FOREST. 



ARRANGED BY G. F. GRAHAM. 



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Now there's a moan - in' on il - ka green loan - in', The Flowers of the Fo - rest are 

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THE FLOWERS OP THE FOREST. 




At bughts in the mornin', nae blithe lads are scornin', 
Lasses are lanely, and dowie, and wae ; 

Nae daflin, nae gabbin, but sighin' and sabbin' ; 
Hk ane lifts her leglin, and hies her away. 

At e'en in the gloamin', nae swankies are roamin' 
'Bout stacks wi' the lasses at bogle to play ; 

But ilk maid sits drearie, lamentin' her dearie, 
The Flowers of the Forest are a' wede away. 

In har'st at the shearin', nae youths now are jeerin', 
Bandsters are runkled, and lyart, or grey; 

At fair or at preachin', nae wooin' nae fleechin', 
The Flowers of the Forest are a' wede away. 

Dool for the order sent our lads to the Border, 
The English for ance by guile wan the day; 

The Flowers of the Forest that fought aye the foremost, 
The prime of our land lie cauld in the clay. 

We'll hae nae mair liltin' at the ewe milkin', 
Women and bairns are heartless and wae ; 

Sighin' and moanin' on ilka green loanin', 
The Flowers of the Forest are a' wede away. 



" The flowers of the forest." The earliest known copy of this fine melody is that, in tablature, in the Skene 
MS., preserved in the Library of the Faculty of Advocates, Edinburgh ; and which appears to have been written 
in the earlier part of the seventeenth century. The copy above printed, (by permission,) is from the translation of 
the Skene MS. made for the late Mr. William Dauney, Advocate, by the Editor of this work, and which appeared 
in Mr. Dauney's Ancient Scottish Melodies. The old ballad, a lament for the disastrous field of Flodden, has been 
lost, with the exception of a line or two, incorporated in Miss Elliot's verses. Its place has been well supplied by 
the two lyrics which we give in this work, adapted to the ancient and the modern versions of the air. The earliest 
of these, that beginning " I've seen the smiling," (see pp. 4, 5.) was written by Miss Alison Rutherford, daughter 
of Robert Rutherford, Esq., of Fernylee, in Selkirkshire, who was afterwards married to Mr. Cockburn, son of the 
then Lord Justice-Clerk of Scotland. The second in point of time was that which we have given above. It was 
written by Miss Jane Elliot, sister of Sir Gilbert Elliot of Minto, and was published anonymously about 1755. 
" From its close and happy imitation of ancient manners, it was by many considered as a genuine production of 
some old but long-forgotten minstrel. It did not however escape the eagle eye of Burns. 'This fine ballad,' says 
he, ' is even a more palpable imitation than Hardiknute. The manners are indeed old, but the language is of yes- 
terday. Its author must very soon be discovered.' " — Reliques. It was so ; and to Mr. Ramsay of Ochtertyre, 
Sir Walter Scott, Bart., and the Rev. Dr. Somerville of Jedburgh, we are indebted for the discovery. See Black- 
wood's edition of Johnson's Musical Museum, in 1839, vol. i., Illustrations, p. 64 et seq., and p. 122 et seq.* Also 
Dauney's Ancient Scottish Melodies p. 152 of Dissertation, et passim. 

* To save room, future reference to these " Illustrations" will be abbreviated thus :— " Museum Illustrations," adding the volume and page. 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



THE FLOWERS OF THE FOREST. 



MODERN AIR. 



ARRANGED BY T. M. MUDIE. 



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THE FLOWERS OF THE FOREST. 



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I've seen the morning with gold the hills adorning, 
And the dread tempest roaring before parting day ; 

I've seen Tweed's silver streams 

Glitt'ring in the sunny beams, 
Grow drumlie and dark as they roll'd on their way. 
fickle fortune ! why this cruel sporting ? 
why thus perplex us, poor sons of a day ? 

Thy frowns cannot fear me, 

Thy smiles cannot cheer me, 
For the Flowers of the Forest are withered away. 



" The flowers of the forest." In our Note upon the old air, we have already mentioned Miss Rutherford, 
the authoress of these verses. She was born in 1710 or 1712; married Patrick Cockburn, Esq., of Ormiston, in 
1731, and died at Edinburgh in 1794. Sir Walter Scott recounts the following anecdote of her : — " Mrs. Cockburn 
was a keen Whig. I remember having heard repeated a parody on Prince Charles's proclamation, in burlesque 
verse, to the tune of ' Clout the Caldron.' In the midst of the siege or blockade of the Castle of Edinburgh, the 
carriage in which Mrs. Cockburn was returning from a visit to Ravelstone was stopped by the Highland guard at 
the West Port ; and as she had a copy of the parody about her person, she was not a little alarmed at the conse- 
quences ; especially as the officer talked of searching the carriage for letters and correspondence with the Whigs 
in the city. Fortunately the arms on the coach were recognised as belonging to a gentleman favourable to the 
cause of the Adventurer, so that Mrs. Cockburn escaped, with the caution not to carry political squibs about her 
person in future." 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



GLOOMY WINTER'S NOW AWA. 



ABRANGED BY T. >I. MITME. 



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Gloo - my win - ter's now a - wa, Saft the west - lin' breez - es blaw, 



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'Mang tho birks o* Stanley shaw, The ma - vis sings fu' cheer - ie 3 O. Sweet the crawflow'rs ear - ly bell, 



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Decks Glen -if- fer's dew - y dell, Blooming like thy bon-nieseF, My young, my art -less dear-ie, O. 



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GLOOMY WINTERS NOW AWA. 



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Come, my las - sie, let us stray O'er Glen - kil - loch's sun - ny brae, Blythe - ly spend the gowden day 'Midst 

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Tow'ring o'er the Newton woods, 
Lav'rocks fan the snaw-white clouds ; 
Siller saughs, wi' downy buds, 

Adorn the banks sae briery, 0. 

Round the sylvan fairy nooks, 
Feath'ry breckans fringe the rocks, 
'Neath the brae the burnie jouks, 
And ilka thing is cbeerie, 0. 

Trees may bud, and birds may sing, 
Flowers may bloom, and verdure spring, 
Joy to me they canna bring, 

Unless wi' thee, my dearie, 0. 



" Gloomy Winter's now awa." The melody appears in Johnson's Museum, No. 594, differing in several notes 
from the air published as " Lord Balgome's Favourite, a very old Highland tune," in Gow's Fourth Collection of 
Reels, &c. The set in Gow's collection is the better of the two, and has been adopted in this work, with one or two 
changes made by the arranger. In Gow's set, the G at the close is natural ; and that suits the antiquity of the 
air better. In Johnson's set, the G is sharp. We learn, — vol. vi., page 508 of Illustrations of Johnson's Musical 
Museum, — that Mr. Alexander Campbell, the editor of Albyn's Anthology, claimed this tune as his own composition. 
The question remains undecided between Messrs. Gow and Campbell. The words here given were composed by 
the late Robert Tannahill of Paisley, who died 17th May 1810, in the thirty-sixth year of his age. See Appendix. 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



BONNIE WEE THING. 



ARRANGED BY J. I. SIRE.XNE. 



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Bon - nio wee thing, can - me wee thing. Love - ly wee thing, wert thou mine ; 



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I would wear thee in my bo - som, Le&t my jew - el I should tine. 



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Wish - ful - ly I look and Ian - guish, In that bon - nie 



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In the following stanza the first four lines are sung to the second part of the air, and the burden or chorus to the first part. 

Wit and grace, and love and beauty, 

In ae constellation shine ! 
To adore thee is my duty, 

Goddess of this soul o' mine. 
Bonnie wee thing, cannie wee thing, 

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

Lest my jewel I should tine. 



" Bonnie wee thing." Mr. Stenhouse informs us that " These verses, beginning ' Bonnie wee thing, cannie 
wee thing,' were composed by Burns, as he informs us, on his little idol, the charming lotely Daries. — Reliques. 
The words are adapted to the tune of ' The bonnie wee thing,' in Oswald's Caledonian Pocket Companion, book 
viii." See Museum Illustrations, vol. iv., p. 320. In the MS. Lute-book of Sir Robert Gordon of Straloch, dated 
1627-9, there is a tune called " Wo betyd thy wearie bodie," which contains the rudiments of the air, " Bonnie 
wee thing." That lute-book was sent to the Editor in January 1839, in order that he might translate and tran- 
scribe from it what he pleased. The original has disappeared since the sale of the library of the late Mr. Chambers 
of London, to whom it belonged. What the Editor transcribed from it, he intends to send to the Library of the 
Faculty of Advocates, Edinburgh, for preservation. 

We subjoin a translation of the air " Wo betyd thy wearie bodie," above alluded to : — 



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10 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



KIND ROBIN LO'ES ME. 



MODERATO. 



ARRANGED BY T. M. MUDIE. 



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Ro - bin is my on - ly joe, For Ro - bin has the art to Io'e, So 



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to his suit I mean to bow, Be - cause I ken he lo'es me 



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The verses within brackets may be omitted. 



[They speak of napkins, speak of rings, 
Speak of gloves and kissing strings, 
And name a thousand bonny things, 

And ca' them signs he lo'es me. 
But I'd prefer a smack of Rob, 
Sporting on the velvet fog, 
To gifts as lang's a plaiden wab, 

Because I ken he lo'es me.] 

He's tall and soncy, frank and free, 
Lo'ed by a', and dear to me ; 
Wi' him I'd live, wi' him I'd dee, 

Because my Robin lo'es me ! 
My sister Mary, said to me, 
Our courtship. but a joke wad be, 
And I, or lang, be made to see, 

That Robin did na lo'e me. 



But little kens she what has been 
Me and my honest Rob between, 
And in his wooing, so keen 

Kind Robin is that lo'es me. 
Then fly ye lazy hours away, 
And hasten on the happy day, 
When, " Join your hands," Mess John shall say, 

And mak' him mine that lo'es me. 

[Till then let every chance unite, 
To weigh our love, and fix delight, 
And I'll look down on such wi' spite. 

Wha doubt that Robin lo'es me. 
hey, Robin, quo' she, 
hey, Robin, quo' she, 
hey, Robin, quo' she, 

Kind Robin lo'es me.] 



" Kind Robin lo'es me." The words of this song, beginning " Robin is my only joe," were printed in David 
Herd's Ancient and Modern Songs, 1776. The tune bears marks of antiquity. Its composer is unknown. See 
Museum Illustrations, vol. v. p. 421. The last four lines seem to be a fragment of an older song to the same air. 
They will not sing to the modern version of the air, and therefore it has been thought that the genuine old air also 
was lost. But we have met with an old version of the air, which proves that the only difference between it and 
the modern one consisted in the occasional dividing of one note into two, in order to suit the greater number of 
syllables in each line of the modern song. If the first, third, and fifth bars (measures) are each made to consist of 
two minims, and the first two crotchets of the seventh bar be changed into one minim, the air will then be found 
to suit the last four lines of the song. This version of the air was discovered in the Macfarlane MS., a Collection 
made for the Laird of Macfarlane about 1740-43, and now in the possession of the Society of Antiquaries of Scot- 
land. It consisted of three folio volumes, the first of which has unfortunately been lost, and the second mutilated 
by the date upon it being torn away. 



12 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



OH! WHY LEFT I MY HAME \ 



ARRANGED BY J. T. SURENNE. 



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ie called " The Lowlands of 
The former tune was pub- 
hter. The late Mr. William 
it, transformed Oswald's air 
, " Of a' the airts the wind 
i,. «* , »i™ ^.„,..„„„„, ,„., „. ^ „5. Mr. Stenhouse erred in 
saying that the tune No. 116 in Johnson's Museum, was published by James Oswald in 1742 ; for, on looking into 
Oswald's Second Collection, we find, p. 25, " The low lands of Holand," a tune totally unlike the one under the 
same name in Johnson. The original of that tune, published by Oswald, is to be found in No. 17 of the Skene 
MS. ; a fact which at once demolishes Oswald's claim to the tune, and brings additional proof of his utter untrust- 
worthiness. See pp. 84, 85, of this work for " The Lowlands of Holland," and pp. 86, 87, for " Of a' the airts the 
wind can blaw." 



12 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



f = 84 

1/ 
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con MOLTA 
EsPKESSIONE. 



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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 2 sang 

0' my ain countrie. 



Oh ! here no Sabbath-bell 

Awakes the Sabbath morn, 
Nor song of reapers heard 

Amang 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 every pain, 
But the first 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 Glimpse. 



" Oh ! why left I my hame ?" In Johnson's Museum, vol. ii. No. 115, we find a tune called "The Lowlands of 
Holland," which remarkably resembles the tune here set to Mr. R. Gilfillan's words. The former tune was pub- 
lished by James Oswald, in 1742, and was ascribed to him by his sister and his daughter. The late Mr. William 
Marshall, butler to the Duke of Gordon, and remarkable for his natural musical talent, transformed Oswald's air 
into " Miss Admiral Gordon's Strathspey," to which Burns wrote the charming song, " Of a' the airts the wind 
can blaw." See Museum, Introduction to vol. i. p. 51 ; and Illustrations, vol. ii. p. 115. Mr. Stenhouse erred in 
saying that the tune No. 116 in Johnson's Museum, was published by James Oswald in 1742 ; for, on looking into 
Oswald's Second Collection, we find, p. 25, " The low lands of Holand," a tune totally unlike the one under the 
same name in Johnson. The original of that tune, published by Oswald, is to be found in No. 17 of the Skene 
MS.; a fact which at once demolishes Oswald's claim to the tune, and brings additional proof of his utter untrust- 
worthiness. See pp. 84, 85, of this work for " The Lowlands of Holland," and pp. 86, 87, for " Of a' the airts the 
wind can blaw." 



14 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



BIDE YE YET. 



AB.K.ANGED BY H. E. DIBDIN. 



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When I gang afield, and come hame at e'en, 
I'll get my wee wifie fu' neat and fu' clean, 
And a bonnie wee bairnie upon her knee, 
That will cry papa or daddy to me. 
Sae bide ye yet, &c. 

An' if there should happen ever to be 
A difference atween my wee wifie an' me, 
In hearty good humour, although she be teas'd, 
I'll kiss her and clap her until she be pleas'd. 
Sae bide ye yet, &c. 



" Bide ye Yet." The age of this tune is not known. The verses here published appeared anonymously in 
D. Herd's Collection of Scottish Songs, about seventy years ago. Words to the same tune, beginning, "Alas, my 
son, you little know," were composed by Miss Jenny Graham, eldest daughter of William Graham of Shaw, Esq., 
in Annandale. Burns spoke highly of these words ; which also were printed in Herd's Collection. See Museum 
Hlustrations, vol. i., pp. 100 and 141. 



16 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



ROSLIN CASTLE. 



104 



Lauohetto. 



ARRANGED BY FINLAY DUN. 




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Awake, sweet muse ! the breathing spring 
With rapture warms ; awake, and sing ! 
Awake, and join the vocal throng 
Who hail the morning with a song; 
To Nanny raise the cheerful lay, 
bid her haste and come away ; 
In sweetest smiles herself adorn, 
And add new graces to the morn. 



hark, my love, on every spray 
Each feather'd warbler tunes Ms lay ; 
'Tis beauty fires the ravish'd throng : 
And love inspires the melting song. 
Then let my raptur'd notes arise, 
For beauty darts from Nanny's eyes, 
And love my rising bosom warms, 
And fills my soul with sweet alarms. 



come, my love ! thy Colin's lay 

With rapture calls, come away ! 

Come, while the muse this wreath shall twine 

Around that modest brow of tliine ; 

hither haste, and with thee bring 

That beauty blooming like the spring, 

Those graces that divinely shine, 

And charm this ravish'd breast of mine. 



" Eoslin Castle." The composer of this melody is not known. It has been wrongly ascribed to James 
Oswald, who never laid any claim to it. In his Collection, it is not marked as one of his own tunes ; and, indeed, 
it was published in a prior Collection, M'Gibbon's, under the name of the " House of Glams." Oswald practised 
several unpardonable deceptions upon the public, by passing off tunes of his own as compositions of David Eizzio. 
His tricks of that kind are pointedly alluded to in a poetical epistle to him, printed in the Scots Magazine for 
October 1741. The verses here given, which Biirns called "beautiful," were written by Eichard Hewitt, a 
native of Cumberland, who died in 1764. When a boy, he was engaged to lead blind Dr. Blacklock ; who, pleased 
with his intelligence, educated him, and employed him as his amanuensis. See Museum Illustrations, vol. i., 
pp. 5 and 108, and vol. iv., pp. 406-7. 

No. II. b 



18 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



THE BUSH ABOON TRAQUAIR. 



ARRANGED BY A. LATVRIE. 



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Hear me, ye nymphs, and 



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her : The bon - nie bush a - boon Traquair, Was where I first did 







That day she smiled and made me glad, 

No maid seem'd ever kinder ; 
I thought myself the luckiest lad, 

So sweetly there to find her. 
I tried to soothe my amorous flame, 

In words that I thought tender ; 
If more there pass'd, I'm not to blame, 

I meant not to offend her. 



Yet now she scornful flies the plain, 

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

And 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 powers, who hear my strains, 

Why thus should Peggy grieve me ? 
Oh ! make her partner in my pains, 

Then let her smiles relieve me. 
If not, my love will turn despair, 

My passion no more tender ; 
I'll leave the bush aboon Traquair, 

To lonely wilds I'll wander. 



" The Bush aboon Traquair." Mr. Stenhouse says : — " This charming pastoral melody is ancient. It was 
formerly called ' The bonnie bush aboon Traquhair.' It appears in the Orpheus Caledonius, 1725, adapted to the 
same beautiful stanzas that are inserted in the Museum, beginning ' Hear me, ye~nympha, and every swam,'' written 
by William Crawford, Esq., author of Tweedside, &c. ; but the old song, it is believed^ is lost." (See Museum 
Illustrations, vol. i., pp. 84-5.) Mr. D. Laing, however, (ibid. pp. 113-115,) points out the error of Mr. Stenhouse 
and other editors who ascribe the song to William Crawfurd (of Auchinames), while it, " Tweedside," &c, were 
written by Robert Crawfurd, a cadet of the family of Drumsoy. It appears that this gentleman was drowned 
in returning from France in 1732. The bush, or clump of trees, that gave name to the tune, is said to have stood 
on a hill above the lawn of the Earl of Traquair's house in Peeblesshire/ We think that the tune was probably 
written down at first for some musical instrument ; as its compass is too great for ordinary voices. This is the 
case with many old Scottish melodies. It may also be remarked, that the accentuation of the words, as applied to 
the tune, is often faulty ; but this seems to have been little heeded by our older singers, and writers of verses to 
music. We must now take these old things as we find them ; and be thankful that they are not altogether lost. 



20 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



AULD ROBIN GRAY. 



AIX, "THE BRIDEGROOM GRAT. 



ARRANGED BY I. M. MUDIE. 



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Young Jamie lo'ed me weel, and he sought me for his bride ; 

But saving a crown, he had naething beside ; 
To make that crown a pound, my Jamie gaed to sea — 

And the crown and the pound were baith for me. 

He hadna been gane a week but only twa, 

When my father brake his arm, and the cow was stown awa ; 
My mither she fell sick, and my Jamie at the sea, 

And auld Robin Gray came a courting me. 

My father couldna work, and my mither couldna spin ; 

I toil'd day and night, but their bread I couldna win. 
Auld Rob maintain'd them baith, and wi' tears in his e'e, 

Said, " Jeanie, for their sakes, marry me." 

My heart it said nay — I look'd for Jamie back ; 

But the wind it blew high, and the ship it was a wrack. 
The ship it was a wrack, why didna Jeanie dee ? 

And why do I live to say, wae's me ? 

My father urged me sair, my mither didna speak, 

But she look'd in my face till my heart was like to break. 

So they gi'ed him my hand, though my heart was at the sea, 
And auld Robin Gray is gudeman to me. 

I hadna been a wife a week but only four, 

When sitting sae mournfully [ae night] at the door, 

I saw my Jamie's wraith, for I couldna think it he, 
Till he said, I'm come back for to marry thee ! 

sair did we greet, and meikle did we say, 

We took but ae kiss, and we tore ourselves away ; 

1 wish I were dead, but I'm no like to dee ; 

Oh ! why do I live to say, wae's me ? 

I gang like a ghaist and I carena to spin, 

I'darena think o' Jamie, for that wad be a sin ; 

But I'll do my best a gude wife to be, 

For auld Robin Gray is [a] kind [man] to me. 



"Auld Robin Ghay." (Old air, "The bridegroom grat.") The air appears to be old, and is the same to 
which the accompanying verses were written by Lady Anne Lindsay. See following Note. 



22 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



AULD ROBIN GRAY. 



ENGLISH AIR, COMPOSED BY REV. MR. LEEVES. 



ARRANGED BT T. M. MUDIE. 

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The rest of the verses are given with the old air. 



" Adld Robin Gray." (Modern air.) The -verses for the old air were written in 1770, or 1772, by Lady Anne 
Lindsay, eldest daughter of the Earl of Balcarras. A highly popular air to the same words was composed by 
the Rev. William Leeves, Rector of Wrington in Somersetshire. He tells us, that in 1770, having received a copy 
of the verses from the Honourable Mrs. Byron, he immediately set them to music. But, in a letter from Lady 
Anne Lindsay (then Barnard) to Sir Walter Scott, in July 1823, she says she composed the song " soon after the 
close of the year 1771." She, or Mr. Leeves, may have mistaken the year. Although not a Scottish melody, 
Mr. Leeves' air is given here, on account of its great popularity. In the edition of Lady Anne's song, published 
by Sir Walter Scott in 1825, and dedicated to the Bannatyne Club, a continuation of the song, and a second con- 
tinuation of it, are given, together with the letter above quoted. In that edition there are a good many altera- 
tions of the original words of the first part ; though not, it is thought, for the better. See Museum Illustrations, 
vol. iii. pp. 230-235, and 310-312. Also Sir Walter Scott's edition cf the song in 1825, with Lady Anne Barnard's 
interesting letter. 



24 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



MY TOCHER'S THE JEWEL. 



ARRANGED BY II. E. D11SDJN. 



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MY TOCHER S THE JEWEL. 



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Your proffer o' love's an arle-penny, 
My tocher's the bargain ye wad buy ; 

But an ye be crafty, I am cunnin', 

Sae ye wi' anither your fortune maun try. 



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

Ye'll slip frae me like a .knotless thread, 
And ye'll crack your credit wi' mae nor me. 



" My tocher's the jewel." Mr. Stenhouse says, " The words of this song, ' meikle thinks my love o' my 
beauty,' were written by Burns, in 1790, for the Museum. They are adapted to a jig in Oswald's Caledonian 
Pocket Companion, book iii. p. 28, composed by him from the subject of au old air, in slow common time, called 
' The highway to Edinburgh.' . . . Burns was mistaken in asserting, in the Reliques, that Gow, or any of his 
family, claimed this melody as their own composition ; or even that it had been notoriously taken from ' The 
mucking o' Geordie's byre,' for it is nothing more than the subject of the old air of ' The highway to Edinburgh,' 
thrown into treble time." See Museum Illustrations, vol. iv. p. 304. There are three errors in this statement. 
1st. Burns did not write the whole words of this song, but only a few of them, the others being old. This is 
given on the authority of Burns' sister, Mrs. Begg, who communicated the fact to Captain Charles Gray, R. M. 
2d. Mr. Stenhouse is inconceivably wrong in stating that the tune is taken from the subject of an old air called 
" The highway to Edinburgh." There is no resemblance between the two tunes, except in two cadences. In 
Oswald's second Collection, dedicated to Frederick Prince of Wales, we find, p. 17, a tune called " The Black 
Eagle, by David Rizo," which is evidently the same, in all essentials, as " The highway to Edinburgh," given in 
Oswald's Caledonian Pocket Companion, book v., but not with the name of Rizzio. The same tune occurs in 
M'Gibbon's Collection, under the name of " The bonny black eagle ;" but in the MS. Lyra- Viol Book of the cele- 
brated Dr. John Leyden, in tablature, and dating about the close of the seventeenth, or the early years of the 
eighteenth century, we find — No. 35 of that MS. — a tune called " Womens' work will never be done," which is 
only ah older and much better set of the tune given by M'Gibbon and Oswald under the other names above- 
mentioned. This curious Leyden MS., which was supposed to be lost, when Mr. William Dauney published the 
Skene MS. in December 1838, was, in 1813, sent to the Editor of this work, with permission to copy and trans- 
late the whole. He has made a copy of the MS., intended for the Advocates' Library, in order to be preserved 
there. 3d. Mr. Stenhouse is equally wrong when he says, that Burns was mistaken in asserting that the tune, 
" My tocher's," &c, had been notoriously taken from " The mucking o' Geordie's byre." Burns was quite right, 
for the chief melodic forms of these two airs are almost identical ; though the rhythm has been changed by addi- 
tional measures interpolated in the former tune. The older tune is in three-four, and the derivative one in 
six- eight time, the former easily convertible into the latter. 



2G 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



HOW SWEET THIS LONE VALE! 



GAELIC AIR. 



ARRANGED BY J. T. SURENNE. 



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How sweet this lone vale ! All the beauties of Nature, 

In varied features, are here to be seen ; 

The lowly spread bush, and the oak's tow'ring stature, 

Are mantled in foliage of gay lovely green. 

Ah ! here is the spot, (Oh ! sad recollection !) 

It is the retreat of my Mary no more ; — 

How kind, how sincere, was the maiden's affection — 

Till memory cease, I the loss must deplore. 



How sweet this lone vale to a heart full of sorrow ! 
The wail of distress I unheeded can pour ; 
My bosom o'ercharged may be lighter to-morrow, 
By shedding a flood in the thick twisted bow'r. 
Mary ! in silence thou calmly reposest, 
The bustle of life gives no trouble to thee ; 
Bemoaning my Mary, life only discloses 
A wilderness vacant of pleasure to me. 



The following words, entitled " The Highland Emigrant," were written by a friend of the Publisher, for the 
same air, with some slight modifications of the melody in accentuation : — 



The hills of my Highlands rise oft in my night-dreams, 
And seem to remind me how far I'm away ! 
I see, in their cloud-mists, the ghosts of my Fathers, 
Who frown on my absence so far, far away ! 



I see the glen-hamlet where Mary, my loved one, 
With tears parted from me that heart-breaking day ! 
The morning sun shines, and I find I am lonely ! 
My country, my friends, are all far, far away ! 



" How sweet this lone vale !" Mr. Stenhouse informs us that this song (that is, the first stanza) was written 
by the Honourable Andrew Erskine, brother of Thomas Earl of Kellie. Burns expressed his high admiration of 
this song. The author of the other stanzas is not known. Mr. Erskine was a lieutenant in the 71st regiment, 
and possessed considerable literary talent. Being unfortunately addicted to gambling, he met with severe losses, 
which appear to have urged him to commit suicide by drowning. His body was found in the Firth of Forth in 
September 1793. The melody is a Gaelic one. See Museum Hlustrations, vol. vi. pp. 490, 528, 529, and 
Blackie's " Book of Scottish Song," — an excellent and extensive collection, — p. 442. With regard to the Earl of 
Kellie above alluded to, it is but tardy justice, in Scotland, to his musical talents, to remark, that he was the 
first Scotsman who ever composed orchestral overtures. He studied musical composition in Germany, under the 
elder Stamitz ; and came home with more power on the violin, and more knowledge of musical composition, than 
most professors of his time possessed. Doctor Burney, who knew him, tells us this in his History of Music, 
vol. iv. page 677. 



<28 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



MY LOVE'S IN GERMANY. 



AUlt.UNGED BY I. M. ML'DIE. 



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He's brave as brave can be ; 

Send him hame, send him hame ; 
He's brave as brave can be, 

Send him hame. 
He's brave as brave can be, 
He wad rather fa' than flee ; 
But his life is dear to me ; 

Send him hame, send him hame ; 
Oh ! his life is dear to me, 

Send him hame. 

Our faes are ten to three ; 

Send him hame, send him hame ; 
Our faes are ten to three, 

Send him hame. 
Our faes are ten to three, 
He maun either fa' or flee, 
In the cause o' loyalty ; 

Send him hame, send him hame ; 
In the cause o' loyalty, 

Send him hame. 



Your love ne'er learnt to flee. 

Bonny dame, winsome dame ; 
Your love ne'er learnt to flee, 

Winsome dame. 
Your love ne'er learnt to flee, 
But he fell in Germanie, 
Fighting brave for loyalty, 

Mournfu' dame, mournfu' dame ; 
Fighting brave for loyalty, 

Mournfu' dame. 

He'll ne'er come o'er the sea ; 

Willie's slain, Willie's slain ; 
He'll ne'er come o'er the sea, 

Willie's gane ! 
He'll ne'er come o'er the sea, 
To his love and ain countrie ; 
This warld's nae mair for me, 

Willie's gane, Willie's gane ; 
This warld's nae mair for me, 

Willie's gane ! 



" My love's in Germany." The air is an old favourite in the Lowlands of Scotland. The ballad on the 
celebrated pirate, Paul Jones, beginning "You've all heard of Paul Jones, have you not? have you not?" was 
sung to the same air. The words, " My luve's in Germany, send him hame, send him hame," were written by 
Hector Macniell, Esq., a poet of very considerable talent. See Museum Illustrations, vol. iv. pp. 343, 344, and 
Blackie's Book of Scottish Song, p. 406. In September 1779, Paul Jones gave the people of Edinburgh, Leith, 
and other places, a dreadful fright, as the Editor, in his boyhood, has heard old persons mention. There is a 
Note about this remarkable man in the fifth volume of the seventh edition of the Encyclopaedia Britannica, p. 41 6, 
from which the following passage is extracted : — " In the month of September 1779, he appeared in the Frith of 
Forth with several prizes, and advanced up above the island of Inchkeith, so as to be nearly opposite to Leith. 
His design was supposed to have been to burn the shipping there ; but he was prevented from attempting this by 
a strong westerly wind ; and such measures were also taken for the defence of the harbour, by erecting batteries 
and otherwise, that he would probably have miscarried, had any attempt been made by him." 



30 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



GREEN GROW THE RASHES, 0! 



ARRANGED BY J. T. SUBBMHE, 



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31 




The warldly race may riches chase, 
An' riches still may fly them, ; 
An' though at last they catch them fast, 
Their hearts can ne'er enjoy them, 0. 
Green grow, &c. 

Gie me a cannie hour at e'en, 
My arms about my dearie, ; 
An' warldly cares, an' warldly men, 
' May a' gae tapsalteerie,* 0. 
Green grow, &c. 

For you sae douce, wha sneer at this, 
Ye're nought but senseless asses, ; 
The wisest man the warld e'er saw, 
He dearly lo'ed the lasses, 0. 
Green grow, &e. 

Auld Nature swears, the lovely dears 
Her noblest work she classes, ; 
Her 'prentice han' she tried on man, 
And then she made the lasses, 0. 
Green grow, &c. 

* Tapsalteerie — topsy-turvy. 



" Green grow the rashes, !" " The air of this song is old ; a bad set of it occurs in Oswald's first Collec 
tion, 17-10 ; but he seems to have forgot that the tune had been used as a reel, as well as a song, in Scotland, 
time out of memory. . . . The tune appears to have been also known by the title of ' Cow thou me the rashes 
green,' quoted in the Complaynt of Scotland, in 1549." See Museum Illustrations, vol. i. pp. 82, 83. The verses 
were written by Burns. In the MS. Lute-Book of Sir Robert Gordon of Straloch, 1627-9, mentioned in the Note 
upon " Bonnie wee thing," p. 9 of this work, is found, " Green greus y' rasses, A daunce ;" and, in the same MS. 
another air, almost identical, named, " I kist her while she blusht." Both of these the Editor translated hro 
modern notation for David Laing, Esq., who published them in his "Additional Illustrations" to Johnson's 
Museum, vol. i. pp. 138, 139. 

The assertion made above by Mr. Stenhouse, that this air was formerly known under the name of " Cow thou me 
the rashes green," we believe to be altogether unfounded. He seems to have jumped to the conclusion, that because 
" rashes " were mentioned in both names, therefore the airs must be identical. We can, however, prove the con- 
trary ; for we have found, in a MS. of the sixteenth century, now in the British Museum, the words, " Colle thou 
me the rysshys grene," set twice over to different music. Airs these cannot be called, for they are altogether desti- 
tute of melody ; they appear rather to be single parts of a piece intended for several voices. We need scarcely add 
they bear not the slightest resemblance to our Scottish tune. 



32 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



TRUE LOVE IS A BONNIE FLOWER. 



AIR, " TWINE WEEL THE PLAIDEN.' 



ARRANGED BY T. M. MTJDIE. 



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When first I saw thy bonnie face, 

Love's pawkie glances won me ; 
Now cauld neglect, and studied scorn, 

Have fatally undone me ! 
Alas ! I've lost, &c. 

Were our fond vows but empty air, 

And made but to be broken ? 
That ringlet of thy raven hair, 

Was't but a faithless token ? 
Alas ! I've lost, &c. 

In vain I've tried each artfu' wile, 

That's practised by the lover, 
But nought, alas, when once it's lost, 
Affection can recover. 

Then break, my poor deluded heart, 

That never can be cheerie ; 
But while life's current there shall flow, 
Sae lang I'll lo'e my dearie ! 



" true love is A bonnie PiowER.'' Air, " Twine weel the plaiden." Speaking of the verses to this air in 
Johnson's Museum, beginning, " ! I have lost my silken snood," Mr. Stenhouse says, " I remember an old 
lady who sang these verses to a very plaintive and simple air, in slow treble time, a copy of which, but cor- 
rupted with embellishments, appears in Oswald's Collection, No. 12, under the title of ' The lassie lost her silken 
snood.' Napier, who first published the song, being unacquainted, perhaps, with the original melody, adapted 
the verses to the same air which is inserted in Johnson's Museum. This song, though undoubtedly of considerable 
antiquity, is neither to be found in the Orpheus Caledonius, nor in Ramsay's Tea-Table Miscellany." See Museum 
Illustrations, vol. i. p. 29* The excellent verses now given in this collection were written by Captain Charles 
Gray, R.M. — a well known veteran in poetry, as well as in warfare ; and one of the ablest of modern Scottish 
poets. This gentleman has of late done much to rectify mistakes regarding the songs of Robert Burns, as well 
as the character of this extraordinary and unfortunate man. Captain Gray's verses were written at the request 
of a Fifeshire lady,f with whom this air was a favourite, but who did not choose to sing the old words given in 
the Collections of Johnson and others, as she considered them objectionable. We have been informed that this 
air was a great favourite with P. Urbani, who used frequently to sing it at his benefit concerts. 

* Napier's Selection of Scottish Songs, first volume, was published in 1790. The airs were harmonized by Dr. Samuel Arnold, William 
Shield, F. H. Barthelemon, and Thomas Carter. His second volume of Scottish Songs was published in 1792 ; the airs harmonized by 
Joseph Haydn alone. In the first volume, page 26, is " Twine weel the plaiden," harmonized by Barthelemon, who was a singular 
character, and a Swedenborgian. 

t The publishers have to acknowledge the kindness of Captain Gray in permitting them to grace their work with these verses, which are 
now for the first time printed in connexion with the air to which they are so admirably suited. 

No. in. c 



34 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



MY NANNIE, 0. 



ARRANGED BY T. M. MUDIE. 



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Be - hind yon hills where Lu - gar flows, 'Mang 



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Nan - nie, O. The westlin wind blaws loud and shrill, The night's baith mirk and 

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My Nannie's charming, sweet, and young ; 

Nae artfu' wiles to win ye, : 
May ill befa' the flattering tongue 

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

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

Nae purer is than Nannie, 0. 



A country lad is my degree, 

And few there be that ken me, : 
But what care I how few they be ? 

I'm welcome aye to Nannie, 0. 
My riches a's my penny fee, 

And I maun guide it cannie, : 
But warld's gear ne'er troubles me, 

My thoughts are a' my Nannie, 0. 



Our auld gudeman delights to view 

His sheep and kye thrive bonnie, ; 
But I'm as blythe that bauds his plough, 

And has nae care but Nannie, 0. 
Come weel, come wae, I carena by, 

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

But live and love my Nannie, 0. 



" My Nannie, 0." Mr. Stenhouse characterizes the melody as a " fine old air," which it certainly is. It is 
one of the best of our Scottish melodies. The air, with other words, was published in the Orpheus Caledonius, 
1725. The verses here given were written by Burns in his earlier days, and were composed in honour of a ser- 
vant-girl, Agnes Fleming, at Calcothill, near Lochlea.* Burns composed them expressly for the air of " My 
Nannie, ;" though in song No. 581 of Johnson's Museum, they are adapted to a different and very inferior 
melody. The Lugar, alluded to in the song, is a river in Ayrshire, which takes its rise in the Cumnock lakes, 
and discharges itself into the river Ayr, at Barskimming. See Museum Illustrations, vol. i. p. 91 ; and Burns' 
Works, by Allan Cunningham, vol. iv. p. 10. 



■ This word is generally spelled Lochlie in the district, and is pronounced with the accent on the first syllable. 



36 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



WHISTLE, AN' I'LL COME TO YOU, MY LAD. 



ARRANGED BY J. T. SUKENNE. 



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whistle, an' I'll come to you, my lad, 

whistle, an' I'll come to you, my lad ; 

Tho' father, an' mother, an' a' should gae mad, 

whistle, an' I'll come to you, my lad. 

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

Gang by me as tho' that ye cared na a flie ; 

But steal me a blink o' your bonnie black e'e, 

Yet look as ye were na lookin' at me, 

Yet look as ye were na lookin' at me. 

whistle, an' I'll come to you, my lad, 
whistle, an' I'll come to you, my lad ; 
Tho' father, an' mother, an' a' should gae mad, 
whistle, an' I'll come to you, my lad. 
Ay vow an' protest that ye care na for me, 
And whiles ye may lightlie my beauty a wee ; 
But court nae anither, tho' jokin' ye be, 
For fear that she wyle your fancy frae me, 
For fear that she wyle your fancy frae me-. 



" Whistle, an' I'll come to you, my lad." Mr. Stenhouse says, " This air has generally been considered oi 
Irish origin, because it was adapted to a song written by John O'Keefe, Esq., in his comic opera of ' The Poor 
Soldier,' which was first acted at Covent Garden, in 1783. The song begins, Since love is the plan, I'll luxe if 1 
can. But the tune was composed by the late John Bruce, an excellent fiddle-player in Dumfries, upwards of 
thirty years before that period." ..." This air was a great favourite of Burns. In 1787, he wrote the two 
stanzas in the Museum, and in August 1793, he added two more." The latter were added to the two former 
stanzas, for Mr. George Thomson's Collection. See Museum Illustrations, vol. ii. pp. 109, 110; and Blackie'a 
Book of Scottish Song, p. 33-1. 



38 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



BUSK YE, BUSK YE. 



AIR, "THE BRAES o' YARROW." 



ARRANGED BY T. M. MDDIE. 



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Lang maun she weep, lang, lang maun she weep. 



Weep not, weep not, my bonnie, bonnie bride, 

Weep not, weep not, my winsome marrow ; 
Nor let thy heart lament to leave 

Pu'ing the birks on the braes o' Yarrow. 
Why does she weep, thy bonnie, bonnie bride ? 

Why does she weep, thy winsome marrow ? 
And why daur ye nae mair weel be seen, 

Pu'ing the birks on the braes o' Yarrow ? 

Lang maun she weep, lang, lang maun she weep, 
Lang maun she weep wi' dule and sorrow, 

And lang maun I nae mair weel be seen, 
Pu'ing the birks on the braes o' Yarrow ; 



For she has tint her lover, lover dear, 
Her lover dear, the cause o' sorrow ; 

And I hae slain the comeliest swain, 

That e'er pu'ed birks on the braes o' Yarrow. 

Fair was thy love, fair, fair indeed thy love ! 

In flowery bands thou didst him fetter ; 
Though lie was fair, and well beloved again, 

Than me he did not love thee better. 
Busk ye then, busk, my bonnie, bonnie bride, 

Busk ye, busk ye, my winsome marrow, 
Busk ye, and lo'e me on the banks o' the Tweed, 

And think nae mair o' the braes o' Yarrow. 



" BnsK ye, busk te." The melody -was formerly called " The braes o' Yarrow." Iu a MS. book of tunes in 
tablature for the Lyra-viol, which belonged to the celebrated Dr. John Leyden, there is a tune called " The lady's 
goune," which seems to be an old and simple set of " The braes o' Yarrow." That MS. was sent to the editor of 
the present work, in 1844, with permission to translate and transcribe it. The transcript he made of it is in- 
tended for the Library of the Faculty of Advocates, Edinburgh. In the Orpheus Caledonius, 1725-33, there is a 
set of " Busk ye," which does not exhibit the wrong accentuation found in more modern versions, where the accent 
is painfully thrown upon the word " ye " in the first line. In the present edition that set has been restored, and 
the air now agrees in accent with the words. The verses here given are from a beautiful ballad written by 
William Hamilton of Bangour, who died in 1754, aged fifty. The ballad consists of thirty stanzas, and was 
first printed in Ramsay's Tea-Table Miscellany. Eight of these stanzas have been selected on this occasion. 
These contain the essential parts of the story. The whole of the ballad will be given in an Appendix to this 
work. The first three lines belong to an ancient ballad, now lost. 



40 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



LEWIE GORDON. 



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Oh ! to see his tartan trews, 
Bonnet blue, and laigh-heel'd shoes, 
Philabeg aboon his knee, 
That's the lad that I'll gang wi'. 
Ohon ! my Highlandman, &c. 



Princely youth of whom I sing, 
Thou wert born to be a king ; 
On thy breast a regal star 
Shines on loyal hearts afar ! 
Ohon ! my Highlandman, &c. 



Oh ! to see this wished-for one 
Seated on a kingly throne ! 
All our griefs would disappear ; 
We should hail a joyful year ! 
Ohon ! my Highlandman, &c. 



" Lewie Gordon." This air is borrowed from the old tune of " Tarry woo," printed in M'Gibbon's first 
Collection, and reprinted in Johnson's Museum, No. 45 ; but we find no trace of the author of either tune. The 
words were written by the Rev. Alexander Geddes, D.D. The person alluded to as " the lad I daurna name," 
was the " Chevalier." See Museum Illustrations, vol. i. p. 90. Lewis Gordon, the hero of the song, was the 
third son of Alexander, second Duke of Gordon, and brother of Cosmo George, who succeeded to the title in 1728. 
He entered the Royal Navy, and became a lieutenant on board of a ship of war ; but, on the breaking out of the 
rebellion in 1745, he followed the example his father had set him in 1715, by declaring for the Stuart family. He 
raised a regiment of two battalions ; defeated the Royalists under the Laird of Macleod at Inverury, (23d De- 
cember 1745,) and then marched to Perth. After the battle of Culloden, he escaped abroad; was attainted in 
1746, and died, unmarried, at Montreuil in France, on the 15th June 1754. See Douglas's Peerage. In a work 
recently published, there are some curious facts relative to Prince Charles Edward Stuart's capture of Carlisle, 
and his retreat from it. Among other things it is mentioned, that the Prince entered Carlisle seated on a white 
charger, and preceded by one hundred pipers. On the retreat, " The Highlanders crossed the Esk at Longtown, 
an hundred men a-breast ; the river was swollen, and took them nearly breast high. There were at once two 
thousand of them in the river, and nothing of them was to be seen but their heads and shoulders. Holding one 
another by the neck of the coat, they stemmed the force of the stream, and lost not a man in the passage. The 
moment they reached the opposite side, the pipes struck up, and they danced reels till they were dry again." 
See " Authentic Account of the occupation of Carlisle in 1745, by Prince Charles Edward Stuart." Edited by 
George Gill Mounsey. Longman and Co. It appears from this, that in those turbulent times, the Scottish bag- 
pipers played a part of some importance. An assemblage of a hundred Highland bag-pipers would be a sur- 
prising phenomenon now-a-days ; even at the Edinburgh Competition of Pipers, where prizes are awarded to the 
most skilful. 

After the fatal field of Culloden, the Prince's position became desperate. His hidings in the Highlands— where 
no one would betray him even for the large rewards offered for his apprehension — and his final escape to France, 
are matters familiar to most readers of history. John Hill Burton, Esq., Advocate, in his recently published 
" Lives of Simon Lord Lovat, and Duncan Forbes of Culloden ;" London, Chapman & Hall, gives, (p. 247) from a 
MS. of the late Mrs. Grant of Laggan, an interesting passage of the interview between the Prince and Lord Lovat, 
at the house of Gortuleg, near the fall of Foyers, just after the battle of Culloden. " The Prince and a few of his 
followers came to the house ; Lovat expressed attachment to him, but at the same time reproached him with 
great asperity for declaring his intention to abandon the enterprise entirely. ' Remember,' said he, fiercely, 
' your great ancestor, Robert Bruce, who lost eleven battles, and won Scotland by the twelfth.' " 

As the third and fourth stanzas of the original song are not only unsuited to the air, but are little better than 
street-ballad doggrel, we have taken the liberty to alter them in this work. 



42 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



THE LAIRD 0' COCKPEN. 



r= 



AIB, " WHEN SHE CAil' BEN, SHE BOBBED." 



66 



ARRANGED BY II. E. DIEDIN. 



MODEKATO 

CON Spikito. 



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The laird o' Cock - pen, he's 




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jeeej^eeeeees 



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proud and he's great ; His mind is ta'en up wi' the things o' the state ; He 




fe^gl^=^^pp^fe^ 



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want - ed a wife his braw house to keep ; But fa - vour wi' woo - in' was 




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THE LAIRD COCKPEN. 



43 



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fash - ous to seek. 



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Doun by the dyke-side a lady did dwell, 
At his table-head he thought she'd look well ; 
M'Cleish's ae daughter o' Claverse-ha' Lee, 
A pennyless lass wi' a lang pedigree. 

His wig was weel pouther'd, an' as gude as new, 
His waistcoat was white, his coat it was blue ; 
He put on a ring, a sword, an' cock'd hat, 
An' wha could refuse the Laird wi' a' that ? 

He took the gray mare, an' rade cannilie, 
An' rapp'd at the yett o' Claverse-ha' Lee ; 
" Gae tell mistress Jean to come speedily ben, 
She's wanted to speak wi' the Laird o' Cockpen." 



Mistress Jean she was makin' the elder-flower wine ; 
" An' what brings the Laird at sic a like time ? " 
She put aff her apron, an' on her silk goun, 
Her mutch wi' red ribbons, an' gaed awa' doun. 

An' when she cam' ben, he bowed fu' low ; 
An' what was his errand, he soon let her know. 
Amazed was the Laird when the lady said, Na ! 
An' wi' a laigh curtsie, she turn'd awa'. 

Dumfounder'd was he, but nae sigh did he gi'e; 
He mounted his mare, and he rade cannilie ; 
An' aften he thought, as he gaed through the glen, 
She's daft to refuse the Laird o' Cockpen. 



" The Laird o' Cockpen." Mr. Stenhouse says, " The musical reader will scarcely require to be informed 
that this spirited air, [" When she cam' ben, she bobbed,"] of one simple strain, is among the oldest of our Scottish 
melodies. It is preserved in the first book of Oswald's Caledonian Pocket Companion, with some of his own 
variations upon the air. It also appears in Mrs. Crockat's Manuscript Book of Tunes, dated 1709." See 
Museum Elustrations, vol. iv. pp. 326, 327. In Oswald's First Collection, dedicated to Frederick Prince of Wales, 
(p. 43,) we find " When she came ben, she bobed," in three-fourth time, and differing in some other respects from 
the set No. 353 of Museum. In Dr. John Leyden's MS. Lyra- Viol Book — referred to ante, p. 25 — there is a tune, 
No. 77, entitled, " When she came ben," in a major key, and yet evidently the prototype of the two sets last men- 
tioned, in minor keys. In most sets of the melody, the sharp seventh is given in the fourth measure. This, we 
think, is erroneous, and have therefore made the seventh natural in the present work ; especially as we find our 
alteration supported by a set of the air published in James Oswald's " Curious Collection of Scots Tunes, &c," 
1740, dedicated to the Duke of Perth. 

The clever and humourous stanzas given to the air, " When she came ben," in this work, are modern. They 
have been ascribed to Miss Ferrier, and to the late Sir Alexander Boswell ; but we have no positive evidence of 
the authorship in either case. Two additional stanzas have lately appeared by another hand : as they are occa- 
sionally sung, we subjoin them : — 



An' now that the Laird his exit had made, 
Mistress Jean she reflecked on what she had said ; 
" Oh ! for ane I'll get better, its waur I'll get ten — 
I was daft to refuse the Laird o' Cockpen !" 

Neist time that the Laird and the Lady were seen, 
They were gaun arm an' arm to the kirk on the green ; 
Now she sits in the ha' like a weel-tappit hen ; 
But as yet there's nae chickens appear'd at Cockpen. 



44 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



TAK YOUR AULD CLOAK ABOUT YE. 



r- 



= 63 



ANDANTE 

Paelante. 



ARRANGED BY T. M. MUDIE. 



CT 



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w.f 



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r -f 



ifepPP^ 



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In win - ter, when the rain rain'd cauld, An' frost and snaw on ilk - a hill, An' 



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Boreas, wi' his blasts sae bauld, Was threat'ning a' our kye to kill, Then Bell, my wife, wha 



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lo'es nae strife, She said to me, right has - ti - ly, Get up, gudeman, save 



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TAK YOUR AULD CLOAK ABOUT YE. 



45 




glill£i£ p£ipgi3 



Crunimie's life, An' tak your auld cloak a - bout ye 



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My Crmnniie is a usefu' cow, 

An' she is come o' a gude kin' : 
Aft has she wet the bairns's mou', 

An' I am laith that she should tyne ; 
Get up, gudeman, it is fu' time, 

The sun shines in the lift sae hie ; 
Sloth never made a gracious end, 

Gae, tak your auld cloak about ye. 

My cloak was ance a gude grey cloak, 

When it was fitting for my wear ; 
But now it's scantly worth a groat, 

For I hae worn't this thretty year. 
Let's spend the gear that we hae won, 

We little ken the day we'll die ; 
Then I'll be proud, sin' I hae sworn 

To hae a new cloak about me. 

In days when gude king Robert rang, 

His trews they cost but half-a-croun ; 
He said they were a groat o'er clear, 

An' ca'd the tailor thief and loon : 
He was the king that wore the croun, 

An' thou'rt a man of laigh degree ; 
It's pride puts a' the country doun ; 

Sae tak your auld cloak about ye. 

1 Law, custom, privilege. — Jamieson. 



Ilka land has its ain lauch, 1 

Ilk kind o' corn has its ain hool : 
I think the warld is a' gane wrang, 

When ilka wife her man wad rule : 
Do ye no see Rob, Jock, and Hab, 

How they are girded gallantlie, 
While I sit hurklin i' the asse ? 2 

I'll hae a new cloak about me ! 

Gudeman, I wat its thretty year 

Sin' we did ane anither ken ; 
An' we hae had atween us twa 

Of lads an' bonnie lasses ten : 
Now they are women grown an' men, 

I wish an' pray weel may they be ; 
An' if you'd prove a gude husband, 

E'en tak your auld cloak about ye. 

Bell, my wife, she lo'es nae strife, 

But she would guide me, if she can ; 
An' to maintain an easy life, 

1 aft maun yield, though I'm gudeman : 
Nocht's to be won at woman's han', 

Unless ye gi'e her a' the plea ; 
Then I'll leave aff where I began, 

An' tak my auld cloak about me. 

2 Ashes — by the fire. 



" Tak youk auto cloak about ye." Mr. Ritson says in a Note, p. 219, vol. i. of his " Scotish Songs :" " Dr. 
Percy, though he supposes this to be originally a Scotish ballad, has given an ancient copy of it, from his folio 
MS. in the English idiom, with an additional stanza (the second) never before printed. See the Rdiques of Ancient 
English Poetry, &c, vol. i. p. 190." A stanza of the song, slightly altered, is sung by Iago in Othello, Act H. 
Scene 3, " King Stephen was a worthy peer," &c. The tune is ancient and excellent. 

Second English stanza, above referred to : — 

Bell, why dost thou fiyte and scorne ? 

Thou kenst my cloak is very thin : 
It is so bare and overworne, 

A cricke he thereon cannot renn : 
Then Be noe longer borrowe nor lend, 

For once He new appareld bee, 
To-morrow Be to towne and spend, 

For ne have a new cloakc about me. 



46 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



O WHA IS SHE THAT LO'ES ME. 



ATR, "MORAS." 



ARRANGED BY HN1AY DUN. 



c= 



100 



Adagio. 



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wha is she that lo'es me, An' has my heart in keep - ing » O 



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sweet is she that lo'es me, As dews o' 



mer weep - ing, In 



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tears the rose - buds steep - ing ! O that's the las - sie o' my heart, My 



WHA IS SHE THAT LO ES ME. 



47 



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las - sie e - ver dear - er ; O that's the queen o' wo - man - kind, An' 

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ne er a ane to peer her. 




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If thou shalt meet a lassie 

In grace and beauty charming, 

That e'en thy chosen lassie, 

Erewhile thy breast sae warming, 
Had ne'er sic powers alarming. 
that's the lassie o' my heart, &c. 



If thou hadst heard her talking, 
An' thy attentions plighted, 

That ilka body talking 

But her by thee is slighted, 
An' thou art all delighted. 

that's the lassie o' my heart, &c. 



If thou hast met this fair one ; 
When frae her thou hast parted, 

If every other fair one, 

But her, thou hast deserted, 
An' thou art broken-hearted ; 

that's the lassie o' my heart, &c. 



" wha is site that lo'es me." This song was written by Burns for the Gaelic air called " Morag," which is 
the Highland name for Marion. Burns was so fond of the air, tLat, in 1787, he wrote two other songs for it. 
One beginning " Loud blaw the frosty breezes," and the other, " Streams that glide in orient plains." The latter 
is less of a song than of stanzas in praise of Castle-Gordon, and in vituperation of Oriental despotism. " In 
Fraser's Gaelic airs, lately published, is another set of ' Morag,' in which the sharp seventh is twice introduced, 
in place of the perfect fifth, along with a variety of notes, graces, and a ritardando, not to be found in any of the 
older sets of this air, and which indeed are equally superfluous, as well as foreign to the genuine spirit of ancient 
Gaelic melodies." See Museum Illustrations, vol. ii. pp. 134-136. We may remark that in Fraser's set of 
" Morag," No. 119, p. 57, the members of the air do not occur in the same order as in Johnson's set. They are 
transposed. Also, that the sharp seventh occurs twice in the notes of embellishment, as well as twice in the prin- 
cipal notes of the air. Allan Cunningham, in his edition of Burns' works, makes the following remarks upon the 
song " wha is she that lo'es me," and its air " Morag :" " Of the air of ' Morag ' Burns was passionately fond ; 
yet it cannot be said that he was more than commonly successful in wedding it to words. The measure which 
the tune requires is cramp and difficult, and the sentiment is interrupted before it has well begun to flow. This 
song was found among the papers of Burns ; the exact period of its composition is not known, nor has the heroine 
been named." 



48 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



IT WAS UPON A LAMMAS NIGHT. 



AIR, " CORN RIQS." 



ARRANGED BY A. LAWRIE. 



'= 112 



r= 

Allegretto. 



P 



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A -X-tU^iMna 



itftf 



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i 



1 — j s m ^ L_ | — pa — p^ — | — ,- = ^N^_tilj __i »T *-y 



It was up - on a Lam - mas night, When corn rigs are bon - nie, O, Be - 



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neath the moon's un - cloud - ed light, I held a - wa' to An - nie, O : The time flew by 



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tent - less heed, Till 'tween the late and ear - ly, 0, Wi' sma' per - sua - sion she a - greed To 



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IT WAS UPON A LAMMAS NIGHT. 



49 



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see me thro' the bar - ley, O. 



Corn rigs, and bar - ley rig3, 



Corn rigs are 






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a p ulcere 



a tempo. 



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bon - nie, O: I'll ne'er for- get that hap - py night, A - mang the rigs wi' An - Die, O. 





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The sky was blue, the wind was still, 

The moon was shining clearly, : 
I set her down wi' right good will, 

Amang the rigs o' barley, : 
I ken't her heart was a' my ain ; 

I loved her most sincerely, ; 
I kiss'd her ower and ower again, 

Amang the rigs o' barley, 0. 
Corn rigs, &c. 

I lock'd her in my fond embrace ! 

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

Amang the rigs o' barley, ! 



But by the moon and stars so bright, 
That shone that hour so clearly, ! 

She aye shall bless that happy night, 
Amang the rigs o' barley, ! 
Corn rigs, &c. 

I hae been blithe wi' comrades dear ; 

I hae been merry drinkin', ; 
I hae been joyfu' gath'rin' gear ; 

I hae been happy thinkin', : 
But a' the pleasures e'er I saw, 

Tho' three times doubled fairly, 0, 
That happy night was worth them a', 

Amang the rigs o' barley, 0. 
Corn rigs, &c. 



" Corn Rigs." The above verses were written by Burns, in his earlier years, to the old tune of " Corn Rigs." 
It is said that Annie Ronald, afterwards Mrs. Paterson of Aikenbrae, was the inspirer of the song. See Allan 
Cunningham's Works of Robert Burns, p. 341. In Ramsay's " Gentle Shepherd," the song, "My Patie is a lover 
gay," is to the tune of " Corn Rigs." " There was a much older Scottish song, however, than that of Ramsay, 
adapted to this tune, of which the following lines are the chorus : — 

' corn rigs, and rye rigs, 
And corn rigs are bonnie,' &c. 
The tune appears in Craig's Collection, in 1730. Craig was a very old man when he published his Collection, for 
he was one of the principal violin -players at the Edinburgh concerts in 1695. Mr. Gay selected this tune for one 
of his songs in the musical opera of ' Poll}',' beginning ' Should I not be bold when honour calls,' printed, but not 
acted, in 1729." See Museum Illustrations, vol. i. p. 96. 
No. IV. D 



50 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



GALA WATER. 



ARRANGED BY J. T. SI'RENNE. 



Adagio, 
con Anima. 



^ (li^is 



m 



^=p 



m 






PEjE 



ffT 



lIj— i _i-=£^4 



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P 



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H^ kdbi 



. 



Braw, braw lads on Yar - row braes, Ye 



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van - der through the bloom - ing hea - ther ; But Yar - row braes, nor 



wm^m 



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GALA WATEE. 



51 



a piacere. 



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Braw, braw lads. 



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Piu lento. 



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But there is ane, a secret ane, 
Aboon them a' I lo'e him better ; 

An' I'll be his, an' he'll be mine, 
The bonnie lad o' Gala water. 

Altho' his daddie was nae laird, 
An' tho' I hae nae meikle tocher ; 

Yet, rich in kindest, truest loye, 
We'll tent our flocks by Gala water. 

It ne'er was wealth, it ne'er was wealth, 
That coft 1 contentment, peace, or pleasure; 

The bands and bliss o' mutual love, 
that's the chiefest warld's treasure ! 

1 Bought. 



" Gala Water." One of the most beautiful of our old Scottish melodies. It is somewhat singular, however, 
that it is not to be found in any of our earlier collections. Neil Stewart gives it under the name of " Coming thro' 
the broom," in his "Thirty Scots songs for a voice and harpsichord," a work probably published between 1780, 
1790; the copy we have seen bears a manuscript date of 1783. Mr. Stenhouse says, "This tune was greatly 
admired by the celebrated Dr. Haydn, who harmonized it for Mi - . William Whyte's Collection of Scottish Songs. 
On the MS. of the music, which I have seen, the Doctor expressed his opinion of the melody, in the best English 
he was master of, in the following short but emphatic sentence: — 'This one Dr. Haydn favourite song.'" In 
January 1793, Burns wrote the verses here published to this air. The Gala river rises in Mid-Lothian, arid 
after uniting with the Heriot, runs south, and falls into the Tweed about four miles above Melrose, and a short 
distance below Abbotsford. See Museum Illustrations, vol. ii. pp. 120-122. The last detached measure, to the 
words "Braw, braw lads," does not belong to the original melody, but is inserted because the air is generally so 
sung at the present day. The singer may adopt or reject that additional measure. 

The following is a portion of what Mi-. Robert Chambers gives as probably the original song of " Gala Water :" 



" Out owre yon moss, out owre yon muir, 
Out owre yon bonnie bush o' heather, 

a' ye lads whae'er ye be, 
Show me the way to Gala water. 
***** 



" Lords and lairds cam here to woo, 
An' gentlemen wi' sword an' dagger, 

But the black-ee'd lass o' Galashiels 
Wad hae nane but the gree o' Gala water. 
***** 



" Adieu, sour plooms o' Galashiels, 

Fareweel, my father an' my mother ; 
For I'll awa' wi' the black herd lad, 
Wha keeps his flocks on Gala water. 
Braw, braw lads o' Gala water, 

Bonnie lads o' Gala water, 
Let them a' say what they will, 
The gree gaes ay to Gala water." 



52 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



TULLOCHGORUM. 



ARRANGED BY G. F. GRAHAM. 



W = 104 

NON TROPPO PRESTO, 
MA SPIRITOSO. 




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gie's a sang,Montgomei7*cried, And lay your disputes a' a - side, What sig - ni - fies't for folks to chide,For 




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what was done be - fore them. Let Whig and To - ry a' a - gree, Whig and To - ry, Whig and To - ry, 



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Whig and To - ry a' a - gree, To drop their Whigmigmorum ; Let Whig and To - ry a' a - gree To 

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# This is generally Bung, " Come, gie's a sang, the lady cried." 



TULLOCHGORUM. 



53 



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spend the night in mirth and glee, And cheer- fu' sing a - lang wi' me, The reel o' Tul -loch -go-rum. 



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rfffffrt 



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Hall, apiacere. 




0, Tullochgorum's my delight, 

It gars us a' in ane unite, 

And ony sumph that keeps up spite, 

In conscience, I abhor him ; 
For blythe and merry we'll be a', 
Blythe and merry, blythe and merry, 
Blythe and merry we'll be a', 

And make a happy quorum. 
For blythe and merry we'll be a', 
As lang as we hae breath to draw, 
And dance till we be like to fa', 

The reel o' Tullocbgorum. 

What needs there be sae great a fraise, 
Wi' dringing dull Italian lays, 
I wadna gie our ain strathspeys 

For half a hvmder score o' them. 
They're dowf and dowie at the best, 
Dowf and dowie, dowf and dowie, 
Dowf and dowie at the best, 

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

Compared wi' Tullocbgorum. 

Let warldly worms their minds oppress 
Wi' fears o' 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 sulky, 



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

To the reel o' Tullocbgorum ? 

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

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

And dainties a great store o' them. 
May peace and plenty be Ids lot, 
Unstain'd by any vicious spot, 
And may he never want a groat, 
That's fond o' Tullocbgorum ! 

But for the silly fawning fool, 
Who loves to be oppression's tool, 
May envy gnaw his rotten soul, 

And discontent devour him ! 
May dool and sorrow be his chance, 
Dool and sorrow, dool and sorrow, 
Dool and sorrow be his chance, 

And nane say, Wae's me, for him. 
May dool and sorrow be his chance, 
And a' the ills that come frae France, 
Whae'er he be that winna dance 

The reel o' Tullochgorum. 



" Tuxlochgorttm." The composer of the tune, a reel, is not known. Mr. Stenhouse says it is derived from 
an old Scottish song-tune, printed in Craig's Collection in 1730. The words were written by the Rev. John 
Skinner, pastor of the Episcopal Chapel at Langside, near Peterhead, Aberdeenshire. They were first printed 
in the Scots Weekly Magazine for April 1776, and were enthusiastically termed by Burns, the " first of songs !" 
The copy here given is that with the reverend author's last corrections, as printed in Museum Illustrations, 
vol. iii. pp. 283, 284. Mi-. Skinner died in 1807, aged 86. See Museum Illustrations, vol. iii. pp. 281-284. We 
have heard Tullochgorum sung with much spirit, many years ago, by the late eminent printer, Mr. James Bal- 
lantyne. Every good musician will at once perceive the difficulty of applying anything like regular modern 
harmony to such a tune. 



54 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



LORD GREGORY. 




si.- 



ARRANGED BY T. M. MUDIE. 



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Lord Gregory, mind'st thou not the grove 

By bonnie Irwin-side, 
Where first I own'd that virgin-love 

I lang, lang had denied ? 
How often didst thou pledge and vow 

Thou wad for aye be mine ; 
An' my fond heart, itsel' sae true, 

It ne'er mistrusted thine. 



Hard is thy heart, Lord Gregory, 

An' flinty is thy breast — 
Thou dart of heaven that flashest by, 

wilt thou give me rest ! 
Ye mustering thunders from above, 

Your willing victim see ! 
But spare an' pardon my fause love, 

His wrangs to heaven an' me ! 



" Lord Gregory." " This is a very ancient Gallowegian melody." The air is No. 5 of Museum, and is tht 
first in P. Urbani's Collection ; but does not appear in any older collections. It is defective in rhythmical struc- 
ture, four measures alternating with three, in both strains. In the present edition, this defect is supplied bj 
additional measures in the pianoforte arrangement, while the air is left intact. 

Bums remarks, " It is somewhat singular, that in Lanark, Renfrew, Ayr, Wigton, Kirkcudbright, and Dum- 
fries-shires, there is scarcely an old song or time, which, from the title, &c, can be guessed to belong to, or to be 
the production of these counties. This, I conjecture, is one of these very few, as the ballad, which is a long one, 
is called, both by tradition and in printed collections, ' The Lass o' Lochroyan,' which I take to be Lochroyan, in 
Galloway." Meliques, p. 196. The words adopted in this collection, were written by Burns in 1793 for Mr. 
George Thomson's work. The song is founded upon the ballad above mentioned, " The Lass o' Lochroyan," 
which was first published in a perfect state by Sir Walter Scott in his Minstrelsy of the Border, vol. ii. p. 411. 
We subjoin a fragment of the original. — 



" open the door, Lord Gregory, 

open, an' let me in ; 
For the wind blaws thro' my yellow hair, 

An' the rain draps o'er my chin." 
" Awa. awa, ye ill woman ! 

Ye're no come here for good ; 
Ye're but some witch or wil-warlock, 

Or mermaid o' the flood." 



" dinna ye mind, Lord Gregory, 

As we sat at the wine, 
We changed the rings frae our fingers, 

An' I can shew thee thine ? 
your's was gude, an' glide enough, 

But ay the best was mine ; 
For your's was o' the gude red gowd, 

But mine o' the diamond fine." 



56 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



THOU BROOM! THOU BONNIE BUSH 0' BROOM! 



AIR, " THE EKOOM o' THE COWDENKHOWES, 



ARRANGED BY J. T. SURENNL. 



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THOU BROOM! THOU BONNIE BUSH o' BROOM ! 



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O thou broom, thou bon - nie, bon - nie broom ! 




When wilt thou, thou bonnie bush o' broom, 

Grow on a foreign strand ? 
That I may think, when I look on thee, 

I'm still in loved Scotland ! 

But ah ! that thought can never more be mine 

Though thou beside me sprang, 
Nor though the lintie, Scotia's bird, 

Should follow wi' its sang. 



Thy branches green might wave at e'en, 
At morn thy flowers might blaw ; 

But no to me, on the Cowdenknowes, 
Nor yet by Ettrick-shaw. 

thou broom, thou bonnie bush o' broom ! 
Sae sweet to memory ; 

1 maist could weep for days gane by 

When 1 think on days to be. 



Scotland may ca' forth a sigh, 
And thou, sweet broom, a tear, 

But I'll no tak' thee frae the braes 
To which thou'st lang been dear. 



" The broom o' the Cowdenknowes." " This is a very ancient and beautiful little air of one strain. The 
song, to which the tune was originally united, with the exception of the chorus, is supposed to be lost. This is, 
in all probability, one of the Scottish tunes that were introduced into England, not long after the union of the 
Crowns, in 1603 ; for there is an ancient black-letter English ballad, ' To a pleasant Scotch tune, called the 
Broom of Cowdenknows.' The estate of Cowdenknows is situated on the east bank of the river Leader, about 
five miles north-east of Melrose." See Museum Illustrations, vol. i. pp. 73, 74. The beautiful verses here given 
are by Mr. Robert Gilfillan. They have been revised for this work by the Author, and are now for the first time 
published in connexion with the air. 

With regard to the melody given in this work, it is necessary to remark that Mr. Stenhouse takes no notice of 
one important variance in different printed editions of this very beautiful Scottish melody. In some older edi- 
tions of the air, we find it begins on the second note of the scale, or supertonic, as it is technically and very indis- 
tinclirdy called in our confused and erroneous musical nomenclature. Thus in the Orpheus Caledonius, in 
M'Gibbon's Collections, in Oswald's Caledonian Pocket Companion, and in Francis Peacock's Collection of " Fifty 
favourite Scotch Airs," we find the air in question commencing on the second note of the scale ascending ; and 
not on the tonic, or key-note, as occurs in other printed works, such as Watts' Musical Miscellany, and later 
publications. There is no doubt that the commencement on the second of the scale brings out a more pathetic 
expression, and a passage more characteristic of some peculiarities in Scottish national melodies. Therefore 
that commencement has been adopted in this work ; while the more usual commencement has not been rejected, 
but is given at the ninth measure, where a second and more modern version of the air begins. The last two 
measures are an addition, sometimes introduced to make the ah- end on the tonic, or key-note. 



58 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



BLYTHE, BLYTHE, AND MERRY ARE WE. 



A1K, "ANDRO AND HIS CUTTY GUN.' 



ARRANGED BY T. M. MUDIE. 




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cock may craw, We're masters o' the tap - pit - hen! 2 




The succeeding verses begin at the sign :$: 



The auld kirk bell has chappit twal — 

Wha cares though she had chappit twa ! 
We're licht o' heart and winna part, 

Though time and tide may rin awa ! 
Blythe, blythe, and merry are we — 

Hearts that care can never ding; 3 
Then let Time pass — we'll steal his glass, 

And pu' a feather frae his wing ! 

Now is the witchin' time o' nicht, 

When ghaists, they say, are to be seen ; 
And fays dance to the glow-worm's licht 

Wi' fairies in their gowns o' green. 
Blythe, blythe, and merry are we — 

Ghaists may tak' their midnicht stroll ; 
Witches ride on brooms astride, 

While we sit by the witchin' bowl ! 



Tut ! never speir 4 how wears the morn 

The moon's still blinkin i' the sky, 
And, gif like her we fill our horn, 

I dinna doubt we'll drink it dry ! 
Blythe, blythe, and merry are we — 

Blythe out>owre the barley bree ; 
And let me tell, the moon hersel' 

Aft dips her toom 5 horn i' the sea ! 

Then fill us up a social cup, 

And never mind the dapple dawn ; 
Just sit awhile, the sun may smile, 

And syne 6 we'll see the gait' we're gaun ! 
Blythe, blythe, and merry are we ; — 

See ! the sun is keekin' 8 ben ; 
Gi'e Time his glass —for months may pass 

Ere sic a nicht we see again ! 



1 Choice. 

4 Ask, inquire. 



2 A measure containing a Scottish pint, that is, two English quarts. 
5 Empty. 6 Then. 7 Road, way. 



3 Crush, depress. 
8 Peeping. 



" Blythe, eltthe, and merry are we." The air is supposed to be old, and sounds very like a bag-pipe tune. 
It is now impossible to trace the authorship of our older Scottish airs ; but the editor is disposed to believe that 
some of them may have been composed in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. 

The song is by Captain Charles Gray, R.M. Two stanzas of it were written for the first anniversary of the 
Musomanik Society of Anstruther, 1814. It appeared in theithird volume of the "Harp of Caledonia," Glasgow, 
1819, and subsequently in Mr. G. Thomson's " Melodies of Scotland," adapted to a Jacobite air. Its merit having 
obtained for it a place in these and many other collections, no apology is necessary for uniting it here to the lively 
melody in the very spirit of which it is conceived and written. Captain Gray's "jolly song," (as Mrs. Joanna 
Baillie called it,) — differing in some slight degree from that printed in bis " Lays and Lyrics" — having received 
his final corrections, is here published by his express permission. 



60 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



MY BOY, TAMMY. 



ARRANGED BY J. T. SCREXNE. 



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MY BOY, TAMMY. 



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An' whar' gat ye that young thing, 

My boy, Tammy ? 
I gat her down in yonder howe, 
Smiling on a broomy knowe, 
Herding ae wee lamb an' ewe, 

For her puir mammy. 

Wliat said ye to the bonnie bairn, 

My boy, Tammy ? 
I praised her een, sae lovely blue, 
Her dimpled cheek an' cherry mou' ;- 
An' pree'd it aft, as ye may trow ! — 

She said, she'd tell her mammy. 

I held her to my beatin' heart, 

My young, my smilin' lammie ! 

I ha'e a house, it cost me dear, 

I've walth o' plenishin' an' gear ; 

Ye'se get it a', wer't ten times mair, 
Gin ye will leave your mammy. 



The smile gaed aff her bonnie face — 

I maunna leave my mammy. 
She's gi'en me meat, she's gi'en me clae?, 
She's been my comfort a' my days : — 
My father's death brought monie waes ! — 
I canna leave my mammy. 

We'll tak' her hame, an' mak' her fain, 
My ain kind-hearted lammie. 

We'll gi'e her meat, we'll gi'e her claes, 

We'll be her comfort a' her days. 

The wee thing gi'es her hand, an' says — 
There ! gang an' ask my mammy. 

Has she been to the kirk wi' thee, 

My boy, Tammy ? 
She has been to the kirk wi' me, 
An' the tear was in her e'e ; 
For ! she's but a young thing, 

Just come frae her mammy. 



" My boy, Tammy." " This fine ballad, beginning, ' Whar' hae ye been a' day, my boy, Tammy ?' was written 
by Hector Macneill, Esq. It first appeared in a Magazine, printed at Edinburgh in 1791, entitled 'The Bee,' 
which was conducted by his friend Dr. James Anderson. The melody to which the words are adapted is very 
ancient, and uncommonly pretty." See Museum Blustrations, vol. vi. p. 440. Mr. Stenhouse here says, that 
the melody is " very ancient." If so, the Editor may remark, that there is no evidence of its antiquity in its 
present form. It is rather surprising that Mr. Stenhouse, who bestowed so many years on the subject of Scottish 
melodies, should not have perceived that the air of " My boy, Tammy," is a modern transformation of the tune 
called " Muirland Willie," to which last, Mr. Stenhouse refers in a Note on No. 369 of Museum, as appearing in 
Thomson's Orpheus Caledonius, in 1725, and in Mrs. Crockat's MS. Collection, written in 1709, and in his posses- 
sion. If any good musician will examine the melodic structure of " Muirland Willie," and compare it with that 
of " My boy, Tammy," he will be convinced that the latter is derived from the former, by a process of transfor- 
mation not uncommon in popular melodies ; i. e. by changing the time, and altering some of the notes, &c. 
There is besides an air in two-fourth time, (No. 501 of Museum,) which seems clearly to have been a dance-tune, 
also owing its origin to " Muirland Willie," at least in the first strain. In the second bar of Johnson's set of 
" Muirland Willie," the sixth of the scale is minor in ascending. The sixth of the scale is also minor throughout 
Napier's set of "My boy, Tammy," published in 1792, arranged by Haydn. It must be observed that the sets 
of " Muirland Willie" given by Craig, M'Gibbon, and Johnson, are not the same, note for note ; but the prin- 
cipal melodic features are identical. Hector Macneill, being a singer as well as a poet, was no doubt well 
acquainted with " Muirland Willie," and possibly also with the air to which Burns wrote " My Peggy's face," in 
both of which he would find leading hints for the air to his excellent words. Although the present air does not 
appear in any collection until after Macneill's verses were written, something like it may have been sung to a 
silly old song, of which the following lines are a specimen : — 

" Is she fit to soop the house, my boy, Tammy ? 
She's just as fit to soop the house, as the cat to catch a mouse, 
And yet she's but a young thing, new come frae her mammy." 



62 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



THERE CAM' A YOUNG MAN TO MY DADDIE'S DOOR. 



AIR, "THE BRISK YOUNG LAD. 



ARRANGED BY A. LAWR1E. 



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But I was bakin' when he cam', 
When he cam', when he cam' ; 
I took him in and gied him a scone, 1 
To thowe his frozen mou'. 

And wow ! but he was, &c. 

I set him in aside the bink ; 2 
I gied him bread and ale to drink ; 
But ne'er a blythe styme 3 wad he blink 
Till he was warm an' fu'. 

And wow ! but he was, &c. 

Gae, get you gone, you cauldrife wooer ; 
Ye sour-looking, cauldrife wooer ! 
I straightway show'd him to the door, 
Saying, Come nae mair to woo. 
And wow ! but he was, &c. 



There lay a deuk-dub before the door, 
Before the door, before the door ; 
There lay a deuk-dub before the door, 
An' there fell he, I trow ! 

And wow ! but he was, &c. 

Out cam' the gudeman, an' heigh he shouted; 
Out cam' the gudewife, an' laigh she louted ; 
An' a' the toun-neebours were gather'd about it ; 
An' there lay he, I trow ! 

And wow ! but he was, &c. 

Then out cam' I, an' sneer'd an' smiled. 
Ye cam' to woo, but ye're a' beguiled ; 
Ye've fa'en i' the dirt, an' ye're a' befyled ; 
We'll ha'e nae mair o' you ! 
And wow ! but he was, &c. 



1 A thin cake of wheat or barley meaL 

2 Bench ; long seat beside the fire in a country house ; seat of honour. 

" Want o' wyse men maks fules to sit on binkis." — Jauibson. 

3 A particle ; a whit ; a transitory glance. 



" There cam' a young man to my daddie's door." This song, which contains a good deal of vulgar humour, 
was published in Herd's Collection, in 1776. The author of the words is not known, and the date of the air is 
uncertain. The last line of the third stanza is one substituted by Allan Cunningham for the coarser line in the 
original. 



64 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



A HIGHLAND LAD MY LOVE WAS BORN. 



AIR, " THE WUITE COCKADE. 



ARRANGED BY J. T. SUBENNE. 



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Wi' his pliilabeg an' tartan plaid, 
An' gude claymore down by his side, 
The ladies' hearts he did trepan, 
My gallant, braw John Highlandman. 
Sing hey, &c. 



They banish'd him beyond the sea ; 
But, ere the bud was on the tree, 
Adown my cheeks the pearls ran, 
Embracing my John Highlandman. 
Sing hey, &c. 



But, oh ! they catch'd him at the last, 
An' bound him in a dungeon fast ; 
My curse upon them every one, 
They've hang'd my braw John Highlandman i 
Sing hey, &c. 



" A Highland lad my love was born." This song, by Burns, occurs in his Cantata, " The Jolly Beggars," 
after the following " Recitativo :" 

" Then neist outspak a raucle carlin, Her dove had been a Highland laddie ; 

Wha kent fu' weel to cleek the sterling. But weary fa' the waefu' wuddie ! 

For mony a pursie she had hookit, Wi' sighs and sobs she thus began 

And had in mony a well been dookit. To wail her braw John Highlandman." 

The song in " The Jolly Beggars" is to the tune " an' ye were dead, gudeman," an old air, which probably 
suggested the more modern air of " The White Cockade," given to the song in the present publication. In the 
Museum Illustrations, vol. v. p. 366, Mr. Stenhouse gives what he says is a correct set of the original melody of 
" I wish that ye were dead, gudeman," " from a very old manuscript in his possession." He does not inform us 
of the date of that " very old" MS., nor does he say whence it came, or to whom it belonged before it came into 
his hands. He adds, " This tune must have been quite common in Scotland long before 1549 ; for it is one of 
the airs to which the Reformers sung one of their spiritual hymns." Mr. Stenhouse quotes the first stanza of 
this " spiritual hymn," which we decline to repeat, on account of its profane absurdity. Coarse, vulgar, " hand 
and glove" familiarity with the most sacred subjects, prevailed to a shocking extent in those days of the sixteenth 
century. In the third volume of Johnson's Museum, pp. 253, 254, Mr. Stenhouse says that O'Keefe selected the 
air of " The White Cockade " for one of his songs in the opera of " The Highland Reel," first acted at Covent 
Garden in 1788. The first, second, fourth, and fifth stanzas of Burns' song in " The Jolly Beggars," have 
been selected for this work. The third and sixth stanzas are omitted. 
No. V. e 



66 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



HERE AW A', THERE AW A'. 



ARRANGED BY T. M. MUDIE. 



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HERE AWA, THERE AWA. 



67 




Winter winds blew loud and cauld at our partin' ; 

Fears for my Willie brought tears in my e'e : 
Welcome now, summer, and welcome, my Willie ; 

The summer to nature, my Willie to me. 

Rest, ye wild storms, in the caves of your slumbers ! 

How your dread howling a lover alarms ! 
Wauken, ye breezes ! row gently, ye billows ! 

And waft my dear laddie ance mail - to my arms. 

But, oh, if he's faithless, and minds na his Nannie, 
Flow still between us, thou wide roarin' main ! 

May I never see it, may I never trow it, 
But, dying, believe that my Willie's my ain ! 



" Here awa', there awa'." This simple and charming little melody was first published by James Oswald, 
in his Caledonian Pocket Companion, Book vii. Its melodic structure is remarkable. The commencement indi- 
cates the major key of F, while the close is in D minor. We have seen such modulation in modern classical 
music, but only in the first strain of an Andante ; the second strain reverting to the key first indicated, and 
concluding in it. In this Scottish melody there is, therefore, a curious peculiarity of modulation, which is not 
only free from harshness, but is pathetically pleasing and effective. It is a common error to believe that a 
melody must begin and end in one and the same key. There is no reason for that, save custom and arbitrary 
rules. If the modulation is smoothly and artistically managed, a melody may begin in one key and end in 
another relative key, without any real impropriety ; nay, often with good effect, as is shown in this very air. 
Technical and scholastic rules for the structure of music and poetry are continually liable to exceptions, which 
it is the province of genius to discover. The date of the composition of this air, or its author, cannot now be 
ascertained. 

Burns' first version of his song, " Here awa', there awa'," was written in March 1793, and sent to Mr. George 
Thomson. Some alterations were proposed by the Honourable Andrew Erskine and Mr. George Thomson, in 
which Burns at first acquiesced. But, as Doctor Currie remarks in his edition of Burns' Works, " our poet, 
with his usual j udgment, adopted some of these alterations, and rejected others. The last edition is as follows." 
This last edition given by Dr. Currie, is the one here published. In his letter to Mr. George Thomson, April 
1793, regarding " Here awa', there awa'," and some other songs, Burns thus expresses his opinion of what is 
essential to a song or a ballad — simplicity ! " Give me leave to criticise your taste in the only thing in which it 
is in my opinion reprehensible. You know I ought to know something of my own trade. Of pathos, sentiment, 
and point, you are a complete judge ; but there is a quaUty more necessary than either in a song, and which is 
the very essence of a ballad, — I mean simplicity ; now, if I mistake not, this last feature you are a little apt to 
sacrifice to the foregoing." 



68 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



ALASTAIR MACALASTAIR. 



ARRANGED BY H. E. DIEDIN. 



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Oh, A - las-tair Mac- A - las - tair, Your chan-ter sets us a -1 a-steer, Get 




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dance the High - land fling. 




The succeeding verses begin at the sign :$$'. ; those within brackets may be omitted. 



The miller Hab was fid gin' fain 
To dance the Highland fling his lane ; 
He lap, an' danced wi' might an' main, 
The like was never seen. 
Oh, Alastair, &c. 

As round about the ring he whuds, 3 
An' cracks his thumbs, an' shakes his duds, 4 
The meal flew frae his tail in cluds, 
An' blinded a' their een. 
Oh, Alastair, &c. 

[Neist rauchle-handed 5 smiddy Jock, 
A' blacken'd o'er wi' coom an' smoke, 
Wi' shauchlin' 6 blcar-e'ed Bess did yoke, 
That harum-scarum quean. 
Oh, Alastair, &c] 



[He shook his doublet in the wind, 
His feet like hammers strak the grund ; 
The very moudiewarts ; were stunn'd, 
Nor kenn'd what it could mean. 
Oh, Alastair, &c] 

Now wanton Willie was na blate, 8 
For he got haud o' winsome Kate, 
" Come here," quo' he, " I'll show the gate 
To dance the Highland fling. ' 
Oh, Alastair, &c. 

Now Alastair has done his best ; 
An' weary stumps are wantin' rest, 
Forbye wi' drouth they're sail' distress'd, 
Wi' dancin' sae, I ween. 
Oh, Alastair, &c. 



' Bees from their hives. 
6 Shambling. 



[I trow the gantrees gat a lift ; 
An' round the bicker flew like drift ; 
An' Alastair that very nicht, 
Could scarcely stand his lane. 
Oh, Alastair, &c] 

2 Leap. 3 Bounds. 4 Ragged clothes. 5 Strong-handed. 

7 Moles. 8 Bashful. y The trestle upon which barrels are placed. 



" Alastair MacAlastair." The author of this lively song has not been discovered. The air is a dance-tune, 
bearing considerable resemblance to " Mrs. Wemyss of Cuttle-hill's Strathspey," composed by Nathaniel Gow, and 
also to the "Marquis of Huntly's Strathspey," a tune said to have been composed by Mr. Marshall, butler to the 
Duke of Gordon. 



70 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



LOGAN WATER. 



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herd - ed sheep; Herd - ed sheep, or ga - ther'd slaes, Wi' my dear lad on 






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Lo - gan braes. But waes my heart! thae days are gane, And, fu' o' grief, I 

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LOGAN WATER 




Nae mair, at Logan kirk, will he, 
Atween the preachings, meet wi' me — 
Meet wi' me, or, when it's mirk, 
Convoy me hame frae Logan kirk. 
I weel may sing, thae days are gane ; 
Frae kirk and fair I come alane, 
While my dear lad maun face his faes, 
Far, far frae me and Logan braes. 

1 I wander melancholy and alone. 



At e'en, when hope amaist is gane, 
I daunder dowie an' forlane, 1 
Or sit beneath the trystin'-tree, 
Where first he spak' o' love to me. 
! could I see thae days again, 
My lover skaithless, 2 an' my ain ; 
Eever'd by friends, an' far frae faes, 
We'd live in bliss on Logan braes ! 



" Logan Water." The melody is of considerable antiquity ; pathetic, and very Scottish in its character 
In the second strain of some printed sets, we find F ft twice introduced instead of F fl. The Fft is very clearly 4 
modern interpolation; especially in the second measure of the second strain, where it occurs in the difficult and 
unvocal form of a leap from F tj to the augmented octave above, F B. In William Napier's Collection, 1 790, we 
find (p. 17) the same air harmonized by F. H. Barthelemon, the celebrated French violinist. It is there in A minor, 
and G, the seventh of the scale, is, throughout, G R. In some other sets, (M'Gibbon's and Oswald's,) the seventh 
of the scale is also minor throughout. We give the melody as it appears in older sets, and as it agrees with the 
true old Scottish tonalities. 

The excellent song here published to the air of " Logan Water," was written by John Mayne, a native of Dum- 
fries who, in his earlier years, served an apprenticeship as a compositor to the Messrs. Foulis, the celebrated 
Glasgow printers. He afterwards went to London, and there was connected for many years with the "Star" 
newspaper. He was born in 1759, and died on the 14th March 1836. In the Prefaee to the edition of Mayne's 
poem, " The Siller Gun," London, 1836, dedicated to King William IV., we find a kind critical letter from the late 
talented Lord Woodhouselee, one of the Scottish Lords of Session, to John Mayne, dated 6th October 1808; and 
Mayne's interesting answer to that letter, of date, London, 19th December 1808. From this we quote what Mayne 
himself says regarding some of his poems, and his ballad of " Logan Water :" — " You wish to know, my Lord, the 
names of such other pieces as I have written besides the poems of ' Glasgow,' and the ' Siller Gun.' There are but 
few of these in Scottish verse, and fewer still, I fear, that are worthy of your Lordship's notice. They consist 
generally of a single thought, suggested by the feeling and clothed in the language of the moment. The ballad 
of ' Lo<"an Water' is of this description : it was written and circulated in Glasgow about the year 1781 ; inserted 
in the ' Star ' newspaper, on Saturday the 23d of May 1 789 ; thence copied and sung at Vauxhall, and published 
soon afterwards by a Music-dealer in the Strand." 

Logan "water, so famed in Scottish song, has its source among the hills which separate the parishes of Lesmahago 
and Muirkirk, in the south-west of Scotland ; runs eastward for eight miles, and unites with the river Nethan. 



72 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



THE BIRKS OF INVERMAY. 



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ARRANGED ST FENLAT DON. 



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THE BIRKS OF INTEBMAY. 



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bap - py day, Wi' bon - nie Ma - ry, young and blate, 3 A - raang the birks 



It wasna till the sklent 4 -moon's shine 

Was glancin' deep in Mary's e'e, 
That, a' in tears, she said, " I'm thine, 

And ever will be true to thee I" 
Ae kiss, the lover's pledge, and then 

We spak o' a' that lovers say, 
Syne linger'd hameward through the glen, 

Amang the birks o' Invermay. 



Appeared as iiL 



2 Appointed place of meeting. 



3 Bashful 



4 Slant, declining. 



" The birks of Invermay." Some doubts have been started whether the name should be " Invermay," or 
" Endermay ;" but the preponderance of evidence seems to be in favour of " Invermay." The prefix " Inver," 
signifies the junction of one stream with another, or with an arm of the sea, &c. ; as in the names Inverary, 
Inverness, &c. : the river Ary falling into Loch Fine, and the river Ness falling into the Moray Firth. In the 
present case, Invermay would signify the junction of the rivulet May with the river Earn, about five miles above 
the Bridge of Earn, and nine from Perth. The old family of Belsches of Invermay, takes its territorial designation 
from the place in question. The glen scenery is beautiful, and richly wooded with birches, &c, which shroud the 
May in its deep and rocky bed. David Mallet — originally Malloch, and of whose literary career and character we 
obtain some curious information from the Life of David Hume, lately published by John Hill Burton, Esq., Advo- 
cate — wrote the two stanzas beginning, " The smiling morn, the breathing spring," which have hitherto been 
united to this air. The additional stanzas usually appended to these are said to have been written by the Rev. 
Doctor Bryce of Kirknewton. 

We never could perceive the beauty of Mallet's first stanza, and the fourth line seems to us to have as little 
meaning as any line of Pope's song by a person of quality, while some of the other amorous lines could hardly 
pass in our more fastidious state of society. As to Dr. Bryce's lines, they are ludicrously artificial and nonsen- 
sical. The Publishers have therefore adopted another song, more recently written, which is at least more simple 
and intelligible in its language. 

The author of the air and its date are unknown. It appears in William Thomson's Orpheus Caledonius, under 
the name of 1; The birks of Endermay." Ramsay altered this to " The birks of Invermay." M'Gibbon calls the 
air " The birks of Envermay." Oswald, to whom no confidence is due, has " Endermay." F. Peacock, No. 20, 
has " Livermay." Robert Bremner, First Book, pp. 4, 5, has " Invermay" in the title of the song, and " Ender- 
may " in the title of the air. 



74 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



CAM' YE BY ATHOL? 



ARRANGED BT A. LAWRIE. 



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I ha'e but ae son, my gallant 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 Charlie. 
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; 

These are the lads I can trust wi' my Charlie. 
Follow thee, follow thee, &c. 



Down thro' the Lowlands, down wi' the whigamore, 
Loyal true Highlanders, down wi' them rarely ; 

Ronald and Donald drive on wi' the braid claymore, 
Over the necks of the foes o' Prince Charlie. 
Follow thee, follow thee, &c. 



" Cam' ye by Athol?" This song was written by James Hogg, the Ettrick Shepherd, was set to music by 
Neil Gow, Jun., and was published in " The Border Garland ;" a work of which the first number only was pub- 
lished. The work seems to have been projected by Hogg, in order to give publicity to his own poetical and 
musical compositions. As no second number was published, it is to be presumed that the first number did not 
receive popular encouragement. Of the nine songs forming the first number, four were set to music by Hogg, 
three by " a friend of the Editor," and two were adapted to old airs. The song is here published by permission 
of Mr. Purdie, the present proprietor of that work. 



76 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



THOU ART GANE AW A'. 



ARRANGED BY T. M. MUDIE. 



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Whate'er he said or might pretend, 

That stole that heart o' thine, Mary, 
True love, I'm sure, was ne'er his end, 

Or nae sic love as mine, Mary. 
I spoke sincere, nor flatter'd much, 

Nae selfish thought's in me, Mary, 
Ambition, wealth, nor naethiug such ; 

No, I loved only thee, Mary ! 



Though you've been false, yet while I live, 

I'll lo'e nae maid but thee, Mary ; 
Let friends forget, as I forgive, 

Thy wrongs to them and me, Mary ; 
So then, farewell ! o' this be sure, 

Since you've been false to me, Mary ; 
For a' the world I'd not endure 

Half what I've done for thee, Mary. 



" Thou art gane awa'." This melody is evidently derived from the old Scottish air " Haud awa' frae me, 
Donald," which was published so far back as 1657, in John Playford's " Dancing Master," under the title of 
" Welcome home, old Rowley." It affords another example of the alteration and remodelling of old airs, to 
which we have already adverted in Note, p. 25, and to which we shall again have occasion to advert in future 
Notes. The melody, as here given, is nearly the same as that published by Pietro Urbani at Edinburgh, in his 
Collection of Scottish Airs, &c, about the close of the last century. Some of his redundant embellishments have 
been omitted. Urbani, a good singer and a good musician, had the merit of being the first person who attempted, 
at great cost, to get up some of Handel's Oratorios in Edinburgh and Glasgow in 1802 ; but the meritorious 
attempt was not encouraged, and Urbani was ruined. He afterwards went to reside in Dublin, and died there in 
1816. The author of the verses is not known. They were printed anonymously in Urbani's Collection and in 
Johnson's Museum. 

As the transformation which the old air has undergone is curious, we subjoin it in the same key as the new air, 
to facilitate comparison. 




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78 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



THE LAND 0' THE LEAL. 



66 



AIE, " HEY, TUTTIE TATTIE." 



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THE LAND THE LEAL. 



79 




Ye've been leal and true, Jean, 
Your task is ended now, Jean, 
And I'll welcome you 

To the land o' the leal. 
Our bonnie bairn's there, Jean, 
She was baith guid and fair, Jean 
And we grudged her sair 

To the land o' the leal. 

Sorrow's sel' wears past, Jean, 
And joy is coniin' fast, Jean, 
Joy that's aye to last 
In the land o' the leal. 



Then dry that glist'nin' e'e, Jean, 
My soul langs to be free, Jean, 
And angels wait on me 
To the land o' the leal. 

A' our friends' are gane, Jean, 
We've lang been left alane, Jean, 
We'll a' meet again 

In the land o' the leal. 
Now, fare ye weel, my ain Jean, 
This warld's care is vain, Jean, 
We'll meet and aye be fain 

In the land o' the leal. 



" The land o' the leal." The air has long been commonly called " Hey, tuttie tattie," apparently from a 
passage in the last stanza of an anonymous song, supposed to have been written about the beginning of last cen- 
tury, and sung to the air here given. The passage alluded to is — 

" When you hear the pipe sound 
Tuttie tattie, to the drum," &c. 
Burns speaks of the air as follows : — " I am delighted with many little melodies which the learned musician de- 
spises as silly and insipid. I do not know whether the old air, ' Hey, tuttie tattie,' may rank among this number; 
but well I know that with Frazer's hautboy, it has often filled my eyes with tears. There is a tradition, which 
I have met with in many places of Scotland, that it was Robert Bruce's march at the battle of Bannockburn." 

In Sibbald's Chronicle of Scottish Poetry, published at Edinburgh in 1802, there is a set of " Hey, tuttie tattie" 
given under the name of " Hey, now the day dawis." It differs from Johnson's set, (No. 170 of Museum,) not only 
in several notes, but in the relative position of the two strains into which the air is divided : in Johnson the 
second strain being placed before the first. Mr. Stenhouse (Museum, vol. ii. pp. 162, 163) says, " The more ancient 
title of this tune was ' Hey, now the day dawis,' the first line of a song which had been a very great favourite in 
Scotland several centuries ago. It is quoted by Gawin Douglas, Bishop of Dunkeld, in the prologue to the thir- 
teenth book of his admirable translation of Virgil into Scottish verse, which was finished in 1513. It is likewise 
mentioned by his contemporary, the poet Dunbar, and many others. This song was long supposed to be lost ; 
but it is preserved in an ancient manuscript collection of poems belonging to the library of the College of Edin- 
burgh." We think it very doubtful that the air of " Hey, tuttie tattie," and the air of " Hey, now the day dawis," 

were the same. In the Straloch MS. Lute-Book— noticed formerly in Note p. 9 of this work we find an air 

called " The day dawis," which differs totally from the air " Hey, tuttie tattie." The former has no Scottish 
characteristics, and may have been composed by some English, or French, or Italian musician attending the 
Scottish Court. That there were many foreign musicians, as well as Scottish, English, and Irish ones, employed 
at the Court of Scotland, appears from documents preserved in the General Register House at Edinburgh ; and 
from the curious passages from these in the " Extracts from the Accounts of the Lords High Treasurers of 
Scotland, relative to music," from a.d. 1474 to 1550, given in No. HI. of Appendix to the late Mr. William 
Dauney's valuable work, " Ancient Scottish Melodies," &c, 1838. 

The excellent verses here given were published about the year 1800— the author is still unknown. The words 
were originally " I'm wearin' awa', John ;" they seem to have been altered with the intention of making the song 
appear to be the parting address of Burns. There are many versions of it, and as one is not of more authority 
than another, we have selected what we conceive to be the best. The fifth and seventh stanzas have generally 
been omitted, and it is doubtful whether the latter be not an interpolation by a different hand. 



80 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



SCOTS, WHA HAE WF WALLACE BLED. 



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SCOTS, WHA HAE WI WALLACE BLED. 



81 




Wha will be a traitor knave ? 
Wha can fill a coward's grave ? 
Wha sae base as be a slave ? 

Let him turn an' flee ! 
Wha, for Scotland's king an' law, 
Freedom's sword will strongly draw, 
Freeman stand, or freeman fa', 

Let him follow me ! 



By oppression's woes an' pains, 
By our sons in servile chains, 
We will drain our dearest veins, 

But they shall be free. 
Lay the proud usurpers low ! 
Tyrants fall in every foe ! 
Liberty's in every blow ! 

Let us do or die ! 



" Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled." We have already spoken of the air " Hey, now the day dawis," in the 
preceding Note. We have how to speak of the admirable words written for that air by Burns on 1st August 
1793. It appears, that on 30th July 1793, Burns and his friend, Mr. John Syme, set out on horseback from the 
house of Mr. Gordon of Kenmure, for Gatehouse, a village in the Stewartry of Kirkcudbright. " I took Mm (says 
Mr. Syme) by the moor-road, where savage and desolate regions extended wide around. The sky was sympa- 
thetic with the wretchedness of the soil ; it became lowering and dark. The hollow winds sighed ; the lightnings 
gleamed; the thunder rolled. The poet enjoyed the awful scene — he spoke not a word, but seemed wrapt in 
meditation. What do you think he was about ? He was charging the English army along with Bruce at 
Bannockburn. He was engaged in the same manner on our ride home from St. Mary's Isle, and I did not disturb 
him. Next day, (2d August 1793,) he produced me the following Address of Bruce to his troops, and gave me a 
copy for Dalzell." 

Mr. Lockhart, in his " Life of Burns," gives a very interesting passage regarding Burns' visit to Bannockburn 
in August 1787, from some fragments of his journal that had come into Mr. Lockhart's hands. "Here (says 
Burns) no Scot can pass uninterested. I fancy to myself that I see my gallant countrymen coming over the hill, 
and down upon the plunderers of their country, the murderers of their fathers, noble revenge and just hate 
glowing in every vein, striding more and more eagerly as they approach the oppressive, insulting, bloodthirsty 
foe. I see them meet in glorious triumphant congratulation on the victorious field, exulting in their heroic royal 
leader, and rescued liberty and independence." Mr. Lockhart adds, " Here we have the germ of Burns' famous 
Ode on the Battle of Bannockburn." Burns' original words to the air that he chose himself, are much superior to 
his altered ones, adapted to a very paltry air in Johnson's Museum, (No. 577,) or to " Lewie Gordon," in Mr. 
G. Thomson's Collection. We here give Burns' original words, with the air for which he composed them. 

The English army which, conducted by Edward II., invaded Scotland in June 1314, amounted to upwards of 
one hundred thousand men, including forty thousand English cavalry. That formidable force consisted of 
Englishmen, Welshmen, and Irishmen. King Robert Bruce had to provide against three great disadvantages on 
the part of his Scottish army. First, a great deficiency in cavalry, and a want of mail-clad men-at-arms. 
Second, the inferiority of the Scottish archers to the English ones ; the former having only short and ill-strung 
bows and clumsy arrows, and being chiefly Highlanders untrained to the use of the bow ; while this was a 
weapon familiar to the English, who were taught to handle it from five years of age ; and who, when grown up, 
employed bows of six feet, and arrows of three feet in length, and were practised marksmen. Lastly, the great 
inferiority of numbers ; the whole of Bruce's fighting men amounting only to about thirty thousand. He had a 
rabble of about ten thousand useless camp-followers, who were not in the field of battle at Bannockburn. In 
these circumstances, Bruce disposed his smaller army in a position indicated by his military skill, near Stirling : 
a rivulet called Bannockburn, running between steep and rocky banks, covering his right wing; a morass 
protecting his front. On the 24th June 1314, was fought the memorable battle of Bannockburn, in which the 
English army was utterly routed with immense slaughter. Edward fled to Dunbar Castle, and thence escaped 
almost alone to Berwick in a fishing skiff, " leaving behind him (says Scott) the finest army a King of England 
ever commanded." For details of this famous battle, see Sir Walter Scott's and Mr. P. F. Tytler's Histories of 
Scotland. 

No. VI. f 



82 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



LOGIE 0' BUCHAN. 



Andante 

A PlAOEKE 



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Though S.andie has owsen, has gear, and has kye, 
A house, an' a hadden, 2 an' siller forbye, 
Yet I'd tak' my ain lad, wi' his staff in his hand. 
Before I'd ha'e him, wi' his houses an' land. 
But simmer is eomin', cauld winter's awa', 
An' he'll come an' see me in spite o' them a'. 



My daddie looks sulky, my minnie looks sour, 
They gloom upon Jamie because he is puir : 
Though I lo'e them as weel as a daughter should do, 
They are no half so dear to me, Jamie, as you. 
He said, Think na lang, lassie, tho' I gang awa', 
For I'll come an' see thee in spite o' them a'. 



' Do not weary. 



I sit on my creepie, 8 an' spin at my wheel, 
An' think on the laddie that lo'es me sae weel ; 
He had but ae saxpence, he brak it in twa, 
An' he ga'e me the half o't when he gaed awa'. 
But the simmer is comiu', cauld winter's awa', 
Then haste ye back, Jamie, an' bide na awa'. 

£ The stocking of a farm ; furniture qf a house. 



3 A low foot-stool. 



" Logie o' Buchan." " Considerable liberties (says Mr. Stenhouse) have been taken both with the words and 
music of this fine song in the Museum. On turning up the manuscript transmitted to Johnson, and comparing it 
with the song, as preserved in a curious collection which boh nged to the late Mr. James Sibbald, bookseller in 
Edinburgh, now in the possession of the present Editor, he observes that Burns made several alterations on the 
old verses. These, however, do not always appear to be for the better ; and the tune is evidently altered for the 
worse. The original air consists of one simple strain, and this is repeated for the chorus. It is here annexed 
with the old verses." See Museum Illustrations, vol. iv. pp. 336, 337. Mr. Stenhouse is quite right in saying 
that the tune in the Museum " is evidently altered for the worse." It is there a poor hybrid tune ; while the set 
given by Mr. Stenhouse is good, national, and characteristic. The latter is the very set with which the Editor of 
this work was made familiar in his early childhood. It has been adopted in this work. 

The date of the air of " Logie o' Buchan " is unknown. The date of the verses may be among the earlier years 
of the last century. Mr. Peter Buchan, formerly of Peterhead, now of Glasgow, states, in his " Gleanings of scarce 
old Ballads," Peterhead, 1825, that it was written by George Halket, a schoolmaster atRathen, in Aberdeenshire, 
who died in 1756. Halket was a great Jacobite, and wrote various pieces in support of his party : one of the best 
known of these is the song called " Whirry, Whigs, awa', man." Another, now lost, called " A Dialogue between 
the Devil and George II.," having fallen into the hands of the Duke of Cumberland, when on his way to Culloden, 
a reward of £100 was offered for the author, either dead or alive. The Logie mentioned in the song is situated 
in Crimond, a parish adjoining the one where Halket resided, and the hero of the piece was a James Robertson, 
gardener at the place (mansion-house) of Logie. 



84 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



THE LOWLANDS 0' HOLLAND. 



Adagio 

con Anima. 



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THE LOWLANDS HOLLAND. 



85 




The stanzas within brackets 
My love lies in the saut 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 Lowlands o' Holland 

Ha'e twinned my love and me. 

[My love he built a bonnie ship, 

And sent her to the sea, 
Wi' seven score brave mariners 

To bear her companie ; 
Threescore gaed to the bottom, 

And threescore died at sea, 
And the Lowlands o' Holland 

Ha'e twinned my love and me.] 



may be omitted in singing. 

[My love he built anither ship, 

And sent her to the main, 
He had but twenty mariners, 

And a' to bring her hame ; 
But the weary wind began to rise, 

And the sea began to rout, 
And my love, and his bonnie ship, 

Turn'd widdershins 1 about !] 

There sail nae coif 2 come on my head, 

Nae kame come in my hair, 
There sail neither coal nor candle licht, 

Come in my bower mair ; 
Nor sail I ha'e anither love, 

Until the day I dee, 
I never loved a love but ane, 

And he's drown'd in the sea. 



[0, haud your tongue, my daughter dear, 

Be still, and be content, 
There are mair lads in Galloway, 

Ye needna sair lament. 
! there is nane in Galloway, 

There's nane at a' for me ; 
For I never lo'ed a lad but ane, 

And he's drown'd in the sea.] 



i In a direction contrary to the sun. 



2 Cap. head-dress. 



" The Lowlands o' Holland." This ballad is said to have been composed about the beginning of last centurj 
by a young widow in Galloway, whose husband was drowned on a voyage to Holland. " The third verse in tin 
Museum, (says Mr. Stenhouse,) is spurious nonsense, and Johnson has omitted the last stanza altogether." In 
Oswald's second Collection there is a tune called " The Lowlands of Holland," but it is quite different from the 
excellent air given by Johnson, and by Pietro Urbani, and is evidently modelled upon the air in the Skene MS., 
" My love she winns not here away." The late Mr. William Marshall, butler to the Duke of Gordon, borrowed 
his highly popular time, " Miss Admiral Gordon's Strathspey," from " The Lowlands of Holland," as given by 
Johnson and Urbani. To Marshall's altered air, Burns wrote his charming song, " Of a' the airts the wind can 
blaw." Mr. Stenhouse says, " The Editor of the late Collection of Gaelic Airs in 1816, puts in a claim for ' The 
Lowlands of Holland' being a Highland air, and that it is called, ' Thuile toabh a sheidas goagh.' By writing a 
few Gaelic verses to each Lowland song, every Scottish melody might easily be transferred to the Highlands. This 
is rather claiming too much." See Museum Hlustrations, vol. ii. p. 115. To this we have to add, that with 
admirable coolness, and without offering any evidence, the Editor of that Collection gives a " List of Highland 
Melodies already incorporated with Scottish song ;" and among these we find " Wilt thou be my dearie ?" " Coming 
through the rye ;" " My love's in Germany ;" " Green grow the rashes ;" " Wat ye wha's in yon town ?" " Gloomy 
winter's now awa' ;" " Wat ye wha I met yestreen ?" &c, in all twenty-five airs, which he claims as Highland ! 
We had intended to make some farther remarks upon this most untenable claim ; but perhaps the above may 
suffice for the present. 



86 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



OF A' THE AIRTS THE WIND CAN BLAW. 



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OF A THE AIRTS THE WIND CAN BLAW. 



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blaw, ye westlin winds, blaw saft 

Amang the leafy trees ; 
Wi' gentle gale, frae muir and dale. 

Bring hame the laden bees ; 
An' bring the lassie back to me 

" Wi' her twa witchin' een ;" 
Ae blink o' her wad banish care, 

Sae lovely is my Jean ! 



What sighs an' vows amang the knowes, 

Ha'e past atween us twa ! 
How fain to meet, how wae to part, 

That day she gaed aw a' ! 
The powers aboon can only ken, 

To whom the heart is seen, 
That nane can be sae dear to me, 

As my sweet lovely Jean ! 



" Op a' the aikts the wind can blaw." As to this air, see Note, page 13, and also Note, page 35. The song 
is certainly one of Burns' best, so far as he wrote it. Captain Charles Gray, R.M., in his " Cursory Remarks on 
Scottish Song," says, that he believes " Burns did not write more than the first sixteen lines of this beautiful 
song." He also observes that the third and fourth stanzas were not found among Burns' MSS. after his death ; 
and that none of his editors or commentators, except Allan Cunningham and Motherwell, have claimed them 
for Burns. Farther, that Dr. Currie in his edition of Burns, Mr. Stenhouse in " Johnson's Musical Museum," and 
Mr. David Laing in his additional notes to that work, do not mention these stanzas as of Burns' composition ; and 
that Mr. George Thomson, in his " Melodies of Scotland," (edition of 1838,) has rejected them as spurious. By 
some they have been ascribed to William Reid, Bookseller, Glasgow ; but Captain Gray is rather inclined to 
believe they were written by John Hamilton, Musicseller, Edinburgh. 



88 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



ALAS! THAT I CAM' O'ER THE MUIR. 



60 



Andante. 



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Oh warldly gear ! - how mony vows, 
How mony hearts ye've broken! 

The want o' you, the wish to l.ae, 
Leave room for nae love-token ! 

Yon blythesome lark that 'boon 3 his nest 

His hymn o' love is singiii', 
Nae warldly thocht has he ; the lift 4 

Is but wi' true love ringin'. 



had I but my true love taen, 
My bonnie love, tho' puir ; 

This day I wadna sae lament 
That I earn' o'er the muir ! 

1 now maun dree 5 the fate o' them 

Wka'd sell their love for gain ; 
Maun tine 6 true love for dreams o' gowd, 
An' live an' dee alane ! 



i Timorous, afifri<'hted. 



1 Atmosphere, firmament. 



5 Suffer, endure. 



6 Lose. 



" Alas ! that I cam' o'er the mutr." ' ; This air is of undoubted antiquity. Burns says, ' Ramsay found 
the first line, of this song, which had been preserved as the title of the charming air, and then composed the rest 
of the verses to suit that line. This has always a finer effect than composing English words, or words with an 
idea foreign to the spirit of the old title. When old titles convey any idea at all, they will generally be found 
to be quite in the spirit of the air,' — Burns' Beliques. This conjecture of Burns turns out to be amazingly cor- 
rect." See Museum Illustrations, vol. i. pp. 18, 19. " It appears, however, that Ramsay was scarcely so for- 
tunate [as to recover the first line of the old song.] What he found was something much less poetical—' The last 
time I came o'er the muir'- — but a poor substitute for the impassioned ejaculation, ' Alas ! that I cam' o'er the 
muir ;' and therefore not very inspiring to the genius of the poet, who has certainly not educed from it any thing 
more than a very namby-pamby sort of ditty." — Dauney's " Ancient Scottish Melodies," p. 253. Referring to 
the Skene MSS., Mr. Stenhouse says, " In these collections, the identical tune of ' The last time I cam' o'er the 
muir,' occurs no less than twice, and one of the sets commences with the two first lines of the old song, 

' Alace ! that I came o'er the moor, 
And left my love behind me.' " — ibid. pp. 18, 19. 
Here there are two mistakes. We have found the air in this MS. only once, and very far from being " identical" 
with the tune in Johnson's Museum, upon which Mr. Stenhouse's Note was written. This, with several other 
references which Mr. Stenhouse makes to tunes in the Skene MS., proves that he could not translate any of these 
tunes in Tablature, although he writes as if he had read and understood them. 

Mr. Dauney's judicious remark on Allan Ramsay's song has induced the Publishers to give to the air new 
verses, which have been written for this work by a friend. 



90 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



CHARLIE IS MY DARLING. 



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Andante. 



ARRANGED BY G P. GRAHAM. 



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Then plaided chiefs cam' frae afar, 

Girt in their fighting geir ; 
They nobly drew their swords for war 

And the young Chevalier ! 
Charlie is my darling, &c. 

But they wha trust to Fortune's smile, 

Ha'e meikle cause to fear ; 
She blinket blythe, but to beguile 

Their young Chevalier ! 

Charlie is my darling, &c. 



Wae on Culloden's bloody field ! 

Dark source o' mony a tear ; 
There Albyn lost her sword and shield, 

And her young Chevalier ! 
Charlie is my darling, &c. 

Now Scotland's " Flowers are wede away ;" 

Her mountain Pines are sere ; 
Her Royal Oak is gane for aye — 

Our young Chevalier ! 

Charlie is my darling, &c. 



" Charlie is my darling." It has been the fate of this air to undergo several odd transformations. James 
Hogg, in the second volume of his Jacobite Relics, p. 92, gives what he says is the original air. It is very different 
from the air No. 428 of Johnson's Museum, "modernized" by Mr. Stephen Clarke, a friend of Burns, and 
father of the late William Clarke, who succeeded him as organist of the Episcopal Chapel, Canongate, Edinburgh. 
Stephen Clarke was an Englishman, and seems to have been a worthy man, though but a mediocre musician. By 
referring to the sets of this air given by Johnson, and by James Hogg, the reader will perceive how many liberties 
Stephen Clarke took with the original. Semitones introduced where tones were ; and many other alterations. 
But the modern set here given is still more curious as an example of the transformations to which we have formerly 
alluded in Notes, pp. 13, 25, 47. It differs materially from Hogg's and Clarke's sets; but is more popular than 
either, and therefore we have adopted it. We cannot trace the history of its transformation to its present state, 
but we think it probable that this may be due to some popular singer within the last forty years. 

The old song, even after all the emendations and additions of Burns, the Ettrick Shepherd, and Mrs. Grant of 
Laggan, is still scarcely above mediocrity. We have therefore adopted the excellent verses written for the air, 
and published some years ago by Captain Charles Gray, R.M. ; they are now reprinted with his permission, and 
with his latest alterations. Captain Gray's merits as a successful song writer are well known. 



92 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



FAIR JANET. 



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net's a - wa' to her fa - ther, As fast as she could hie: "O what's your will wi' 



FAIR JANET. 



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me, father; O what's your will wi 

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' My will wi' you, fair Janet," he said, 
" It is baith bed and board ; 
Some say that ye lo'e sweet Willie, 
But ye maun wed a French Lord." 

Janet's awa' to her chamber, 

As fast as she could go ; 
Wha's the first ane that tapped there 

But sweet Willie, her jo ? 

' we maun part this love, Willie, 

That has been lang between ; 
There's a French Lord coming o'er the sea, 

To wed me wi' a ring ; 
There's a French Lord coming o'er the sea, 

To wed and tak' me hame." 



Willie he was scarce awa', 

And the lady put to bed, 
When in and came her father dear, 

" Make haste, and busk the bride !" 

" There's a sair pain in my head, father ; 
There's a sair pain in my side ; 
And ill, ill am I, father, 
This day for to be a bride." 

" 0, ye maun busk this bonnie bride, 
And put a gay mantle on ; 
For she shall wed this auld French Lord, 
Gin she should dee the morn." 
* * * * 

Some put on the gay green robes, 

And some put on the brown, 
But Janet put on the scarlet robes, 
To shine foremost through the town. 

And some they mounted the black steed, 
And some they mounted the brown, 

But Janet mounted the milk-white steed, 
To ride foremost through the town. 



" wha will guide your horse, Janet ? 

wha will guide him best 1" 
" wha but Willie, my true love ; 

He kens I lo'e him best." 

And when they cam' to Marie's kirk, 

To tye the haly ban', 
Fair Janet's face look'd pale and wan, 

And her colour gaed and cam'. 

When dinner it was past and done, 
And dancing to begin, 
" 0, we'll go take the bride's maidens, 
And we'll go fill the ring." 

0, ben then came the auld French Lord, 
Saying, "Bride, will ye dance wi' me?" 
" Awa', awa', ye auld French Lord, 
Your face I downa see." 

0, ben then came now sweet Willie, 
Saying, " Bride, will ye dance wi' me ?" 
" Aye, by my sooth, and that I will, 
Gin my back should break in three." 

She hadna turn'd her thro' the dance, 

Thro' the dance but thrice, 
When she fell down at Willie's feet, 

And up did never rise. 

Willie's ta'en the key o' his coffer, 
And gi'en it to his man — 
" Gae hame, and tell my mother dear, 
My horse he has me slain ; 
Bid her be kind to my young son, 
For father he has nane." 

The tane was buried in Marie's kirk, 
And the tither in Marie's quier ; 

Out of the tane there grew a birk, 
And the tither, a bonnie brier. 



" Fair Janet." The air of this ballad has been obligingly given to the Publishers of this work by Charles 
Kirkpatrick Sharpe, Esq. Mr. Sharpe published the ballad in his " Ballad Book," 1824. He there says, " This 
ballad, the subject of which appears to be very popular, is printed as it was sung by an old woman in Perthshire. 
The air is extremely beautiful." Motherwell also gives it in his "Minstrelsy," 1827, and says, "This is by far 
the most complete and apparently genuine copy that we have yet met with of the ballad which is usually printed 
under the name of ' Willie and Annette,' or of that improved vusion of the same ballad published by Mr. Finlay, 
under the title of ' Sweet Willie.'" 



94 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



CA' THE YOWES TO THE KNOWES. 



ARRANGED BY T. M. MUDIE. 



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We'll gang doun by Cluden side, 
Through the hazels spreading wide 
O'er the waves that sweetly glide, 
To the moon sae clearly. 

Yonder Cluden's silent towers, 
Where, at moonshine midnight hours, 
O'er the dewy bending flowers 
The fairies dance sae cheerie. 



Ghaist nor bogle shalt thou fear : 
Thou'rt to love and heaven sae dear, 
Nocht of ill may come thee near, 
My bonnie dearie. 

Fair and lovely as thou art, 
Thou hast stoun my very heart ; 
I can die — but canna part, 
My bonnie dearie. 



" Ca' the towes to the knowes." In a letter to Mr. G. Thomson, September 1794, Burns says, "I am 
flattered at your adopting ' Ca' the yowes to the knowes,' as it was owing to me that it saw the light. About 
seven years ago, I was well acquainted with a worthy little fellow of a clergyman, a Mr. Clunie, who sung it 
charmingly ; and, at my request, Mr. Clarke took it down from his singing. When I gave it to Johnson, I added 
some stanzas to the song, and mended others, but still it will not do for you. In a solitary stroll which I took 
to-day, I tried my hand on a few pastoral lines, following up the idea of the chorus, which I would preserve. 
Here it is, with all its crudities and imperfections on its head." This is the song which we have given with the 
wild and pretty air which Burns thus rescued from oblivion. He saved many other good melodies from being 
lost ; and, for this alone, Scotland owes him another debt of gratitude. This fact is not generally known, and is 
not alluded to by his biographers. Captain Charles Gray, R.M., in his " Cursory remarks on Scottish Song," was 
the first to point out our obligations to Burns in this_ respect. 

The Cluden, or Clouden, is a river in Dumfries-shire, which rises near the feet of the Criffel hills, and falls into 
the Nith, nearly opposite to Lincluden College. 

Following up what we have quoted above from Burns, it may not be out of place here to state in his own words 
his ideas of music and song, and his mode of composing verses to airs that pleased him, or that were sent to him 
for verses. The passages are from his letters to Mr. George Thomson. " November 8, 1792. There is a peculiar 
rhythmus in many of our airs, and a necessity of adapting syllables to the emphasis, or what I would call the 
feature notes, of the tune, that cramp the poet, and lay him under almost insuperable difficulties." " September, 
1793. Until I am complete master of a tune in my own singing, (such as it is,) I never can compose for it. 
My way is : I consider the poetic sentiment correspondent to my idea of the musical expression ; then choose my 
theme ; begin one stanza ; when that is composed, which is generally the most difficult part of the business, I 
walk out, sit down now and then, look out for objects in nature around me, that are in unison or harmony with 
the cogitations of my fancy, and workings of my bosom ; humming every now and then the air with the verses I 
have framed. When I feel my muse beginning to jade, I retire to the solitary fireside of my study, and there 
commit my effusions to paper, swinging at intervals on the hind legs of my elbow-chair, by way of calling forth 
my own critical strictures, as my pen goes on. Seriously, this at home, is almost invariably my way." 

That Burns had a fine feeling for the simple melodies of his country, the following extracts will show : — " April, 
1793. I have still several MS. Scots airs by me which I have picked up, mostly from the singing of country 
lasses. They please me vastly ; but your learned lugs would perhaps be displeased with the very feature for 
which I like them. I call them simple ; you would pronounce them silly." " September, 17C3. You know that 
my pretensions to musical taste are merely a few of nature's instincts, untaught and untutored by art. For this 
reason, many musical compositions, particularly where much of the merit lies in counterpoint, however they may 
transport and ravish the ears of you connoisseurs, affect my simple lug no otherwise than merely as melodious 
din. On the other hand, by way of amends, I am delighted with many little melodies, which the learned musician 
despises as silly and insipid." " September, 1794. Not to compare small things with great, my taste in music is 
like the mighty Frederick of Prussia's taste in painting : we are told that he frequently admired what the con- 
noisseurs decried, and always without any hypocrisy confessed his admiration," &c. 



96 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



PIBROCH OF DONUIL DHU. 



ARRANGED BY A. LAWRIE. 



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Come from deep glen, and 

From mountain so rocky, 
The war-pipe and pennon 

Are at Inverlochy. 
Come every hill-plaid, and 

True heart that wears one ; 
Come every steel-blade, and 

Strong hand that bears one ! 
Come every hill-plaid, &o. 

Leave untended the herd, 

The flock without shelter ; 
Leave the corpse uninterr'd, 

The bride at the altar. 
Leave the deer, leave the steer, 

Leave nets and barges ; 
Come with your fighting gear 

Broadswords and targes. 

Leave the deer, leave the steer, 



&c. 



Come as the winds come, when 

Forests are rended : 
Come as the waves come, when 

Navies are stranded. 
Faster come, faster come, 

Faster and faster : 
Chief, vassal, page, and groom, 

Tenant and master. 
Faster come, faster come, &c. 

Fast they come, fast they come ; 

See how they gather ! 
Wide waves the eagle plume, 

Blended with heather. 
Cast your plaids, draw your blades, 

Forward each man set ; 
Pibroch of Donuil Dhu, 

Knell for the onset ! 

Cast your plaids, draw your blades, &c. 



" Pibroch of Donuil Dhu." The air was long known under the name of " Lochiel's March." The words were 
written by Scott in 1816, for A. Campbell's " Albyn's Anthology," in the first volume of which they were 
published. In the Dissertation prefixed to Patrick M'Donald's Collection of "Highland Airs, we find the following 
passage : — " A very peculiar species of martial music was in the highest request with the Highlanders. It was 
sometimes sung, accompanied with words, but more frequently performed on the bagpipe. And, in spite of every 
change, a pibraeh, or cruineachadh, though it may sound harsh to the ear of a stranger, still rouses the native 
Highlander, in the same way that the sound of the trumpet does the war-horse. Nay, it sometimes produced 
effects little less marvellous than those recorded of ancient music. At the battle of Quebec, in April 1760, whilst 
the British troops were retreating in great confusion, the General complained to a field-officer of Fraser's 
regiment, of the bad behaviour of his corps. ' Sir,' answered he, with some warmth, ' you did very wrong in 
forbidding the pipes to play this morning : nothing encourages Highlanders so much in a day of action. Nay, 
even now they would be of use.' ' Let them blow like the d — 1 then,' replied the General, ' if it will bring back 
the men.' And, the pipers being ordered to play a favourite cruineachadh, the Highlanders, who were broken, 
returned the moment they heard the music, and formed with great alacrity in the rear." 

No. vn. o 



98 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



WILT THOU BE MY DEARIE? 



ARRANGED BY G. P. GRAHAM. 



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Lassie, say thou lo'es me ; 
Or, if thou wilt not be my ain, 
Say na thou'lt refuse me : 
If it winna, canna be, 
Thou, for thine, may choose me ; 
Let me, lassie, quickly dee, 
Trusting that thou lo'es me. 
Lassie, let me quickly dee, 
Trusting that thou lo'es me. 



" Wilt thou be my dearie ?" Mr. Stenhouse says, " This charming little song was written by Burns for the 
Museum. It is adapted to the first strain of an old strathspey, called ' The Souter's Daughter.' Burns, in a 
Note annexed to the words, says, ' Tune, The Souter's Daughter. N. B. — It is only the first part of the tune to 
which the song is to be set.' The ' Souter's Daughter' is printed in Bremner's Collection of Reels, in 1764. It 
also appears in Neil Grow and Son's Collection, and in several others." See Museum Illustrations, vol. v. p. 415. 

We cannot refrain from pointing out here the utter falseness and absurdity of an opinion which has met with its 
ignorant abettors, and which arose from an old misinterpretation of a passage in Tassoni's " Pensieri Diversi," 
(Venice, 1646.) The passage is as follows : — " Noi ancora possiamo connumerar tra nostri Jacopo Re di Scozia, 
che non pur cose sacre compose in canto, ma trovo da- se stesso una nuova musica lamentevole, e mesta, 
differente da tutte l'altre. Nel che poi e stato imitato da Carlo Gesualdo, principe di Venosa, che in questa nostra 
eta ha illustrato anch'egli la musica con nuove e mirabili invenzioni." Lib. x. c. xxiii. This passage has been 
erroneously interpreted as signifying that King James I. of Scotland composed our old Scottish melodies, and that 
he was imitated in the same style of composition by the Prince of Venosa. No documents exist to show the style 
of the sacred music that James is said by Tassoni to have composed, nor to show the style of that new plaintive 
and mournful music, different from all other music, which he is said to have invented. Tassoni's words plainly 
mean, not that the Prince of Venosa imitated the style of James' new music, but that he imitated the example of 
James in inventing a new plaintive and mournful music, different from all other music ; and that this is the true 
meaning, is evident from the concluding words of the passage, where it is said that " in our age he also has illus- 
trated music by new and wonderful inventions." We add only a few words to set the matter at rest. Carlo 
Gesualdo, Prince of Venosa in the Neapolitan States, was a remarkable composer of music in the latter part of 
the sixteenth century. Alessandro Tassoni, a Modenese, was born in 1565, and died in 1635. James I. was 
assassinated in 1437, in the forty-fourth year of his age. Fortunately, the compositions of the Prince of Venosa 
have been printed, and are therefore open to examination, and to comparison with Scottish melodies. They are 
very curious compositions — madrigals ; but contain no melodies of any kind, but merely dry and crude harmonic 
combinations and modulations, some of which are very strange and original. Not one of the voice parts that we 
have examined contains anything in the least resembling any known Scottish melody, or anything else now named 
melody. Some of the best of the Prince of Venosa's compositions are given in the works of Padre Martini, Choron, 
&c. ; and to these the Editor of this work refers the reader. It is high time that the received nonsense written 
about the imitation of Scottish melodies by the Prince of Venosa should be for ever set aside. That remarkable 
amateur, like several others of his countrymen about the same period, was striving to emancipate himself from 
the fetters of the old ecclesiastical tonalities and harmonies, which, till then, had confined the musical genius of 
all Europe to au inexpressive order of forms, with a few popular exceptions. The production of the modern 
tonalities — a major and a minor scale — and a revolution in musical melody and harmony — were due to the genius 
of Claudio Monteverde, an eminent Italian musician, at the close of the sixteenth, and the commencement of the 
seventeenth centuries. 



100 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



WALY, WALY. 



ARRANGED BY T. M. MUDIE. 



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O waly, waly, but love be bonnie 

A little time while it is new ; 
But when it's auld it waxes cauld, 

An' fades away like the mornin' dew. 
wherefore should I busk 2 my heid, 

Or wherefore should I kame my hair ? 
For my true love has me forsook, 

An' says he'll never love me mair. 

Now Arthur's Seat shall be my bed, 

The sheets shall ne'er be press'd by me, 
St. Anton's Well shall be my drink, 

Since my true love has forsaken me. 
Martinmas wind, when wilt thou blaw, 

An' shake the green leaves aff the tree ? 
0, gentle death, when wilt thou come ? 

For o' my life I am wearie. 

1 An exclamation of distress — Alas. 



'Tis not the frost that freezes fell, 

Nor blawin' snaw's inclemencie ; 
'Tis not sic cauld that makes me cry : 

But my love's heart 's grown cauld to me. 
When we cam' in by Glasgow toun, 

We were a comely sicht to see ; 
My love was clad in the black velvet, 

An' I mysel' in cramasie. 3 

But had I wist, before I kiss'd, 

That love had been sae ill to win, 
I'd lbck'd my heart in a case o' gold, 

An' pinn'd it wi' a siller pin. 
Oh, oh ! if my young babe were born, 

An' set upon the nurse's knee, 
An' I mysel' were dead an' gane, 

An' the green grass growin' over me ! 



2 Dress, arrange, adorn. 



3 Crimson. 



" walt, waly." In Mr. Robert Chambers' Scottish Songs, there is a Note upon " Waly, waly," from which 
. we give the following passage : — " This beautiful old song has hitherto been supposed to refer to some circum- 
stance in the life of Queen Mary, or at least to some unfortunate love aifair which happened at her Court. It is 
now discovered, from a copy which has been found as forming part of a ballad in the Pepysian Library at Cam- 
bridge, (published in Motherwell's Minstrelsy, 1827, under the title of " Lord Jamie Douglas,") to have been 
occasioned by the affecting tale of Lady Barbara Erskine, daughter of John ninth Earl of Mar, and wife of James 
second Marquis of Douglas. This lady, who was married in 1670, was divorced, or at least expelled from the 
society of her husband, in consequence of some malignant scandals which a former and disappointed lover, Lowrie 
of Blackwood, was so base as to insinuate into the ear of the Marquis." Her father took her home, and she never 
again saw her husband. Her only son died, Earl of Angus, at the battle of Steinkirk. 

The air is beautiful and pathetic. It is undoubtedly ancient, though its date cannot be ascertained. The 
simplicity of the original has been spoiled by several nourishes introduced into it by tasteless and ignorant 
collectors. M'Gibbon, Oswald, Bremner, and others, have much to answer for in the matter of pseudo-embellish- 
ment of our finest old airs. We have removed from " Waly, waly," the absurd trappings hung about its neck by 
these men. 



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102 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



WHERE ARE THE JOYS I HAVE MET IN THE MORNING 1 



A IB, " SAW YE MY FATHER ? ' 



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No more a-winding the course of yon river, 
And marking sweet flow'rets so fair ; 

No more I trace the light footsteps of pleasure, 
But sorrow and sad sighing care. 

Is it that summer's forsaken our vallies, 

And grim surly winter is near ? 
No, no ; the bees humming round the gay roses, 

Proclaim it the pride of the year. 



Fain would I hide what I fear to discover, 
Yet long, long too well have I known 

All that has caused this wreck in my bosom, 
Is Jenny, fair Jenny, alone. 

[Time cannot aid me, my griefs are immortal, 

Nor hope dare a comfort bestow ; 
Come then, enamour'd, and fond of my anguish, 

Enjoyment I'll seek in my woe.] 



" Where are the jots I have met m the morning ?" The air, " Saw ye my father ?" does not appear in any 
very early musical publication. The old words first appeared in Herd's Collection, 1769. In a letter written in 
September 1793, to Mr. George Thomson, Burns expresses himself thus : — '" Saw ye my father' is one of my 
greatest favourites. The evening before last, I wandered out, and began a tender song, in what I think is its 
native style. I must premise that the old way, and the way to give most effect, is to have no starting-note, as the 
fiddlers call it, but to burst at once into the pathos. Every country girl sings, ' Saw ye my father,' " &c. 

We have adopted this song of Burns' in the present work, and subjoin the old verses for those who may prefer 
them. 



Saw ye my father, or saw ye my mither, 

Or saw ye my true love John ? 
I saw nae your father, I saw nae your mither, 

But I saw your true love John. 

It's now ten at night, an' the stars gi'e nae light, 

An' the bells they ring ding-dang, 
He's met wi' some delay that causes him to stay, 

But he will be here ere lang. 

The surly auld carle did naething but snarl, 

An' Johnny's face it grew red, 
Yet tho' he often sigh'd, he ne'er a word replied, 

Till a' were asleep in bed. 



Then up Johnny rose, an' to the door he goes, 

An' gently tirl'd at the pin, 
The lassie takin' tent, unto the door she went, 

An' she open'd an' lat him in. 

An' are ye come at last ! an' do I hold you fast ! 

An' is my Johnny true ! 
I have nae time to tell, but sae lang's I like mysel, 

Sae lang sail I like you. 

Flee up, flee up, my bonnie grey cock, 

An' craw when it is day ; 
An' your neck shall be like the bonnie beaten gold 

An' your wings of the silver grey. 



The cock proved false, an' untrue he was, 

For he crew an hour owre soon : 
The lassie thocht it day when she sent her love away, 

An' it was but a blink o' the moon. 



104 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



SWEET ARE THY BANKS, BONNIE TWEED! 



AIR, " TWEEDSIDE. 



ARRANGED BY J. T. SURENNE. 



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sweet are thy banks, bonnie Tweed ! 

And sweeter the mays wha there bide ; 
But sweetest of a' is the lass 

Wha bauds fast my heart on Tweedside ! 



" Tweedside." *The composer of this old and beautiful Scottish melody is unknown. Some persons, upon no 

foundation of evidence, have given to David Rizzio the credit of its composition. In the last century, James 

Oswald, a very unscrupulous man, ascribed several of our Scottish melodies to Rizzio, for the purpose of enhancing 

the value of his collections of Scottish airs in the eyes of the public. That Oswald frequently passed off his 

own tunes in private as the compositions of Rizzio, we learn from the following lines of a poem already alluded 

to in Note, p. 17 : — 

" When wilt thou teach our soft vEidian [Edinian?] fair 

To languish at a false Sicilian air ; 

Or when some tender tune compose again, 

And cheat the town wi' David Rizo's name?" 
In some of his publications, however, Oswald did not scruple to claim these airs as his own. In consequence 
of this double mystification, old airs with the name of Rizzio attached to them came also to be considered as com- 
positions of Oswald ; and we are even told by his deceived relatives, (Museum Introduction, p. li.) that " The airs 
in this volume (second Collection) with the name of David Rizo affixed, are all Oswald's ; I state this on the 
authority of Mrs. Alexander Gumming and my mother — his daughter and sister." Signed, " H. 0. Weatherly." 
That most of these airs were in existence before Oswald was born, can be proved from MSS. and printed works. 
Besides, Oswald'sown compositions want the simplicity of the old airs, and do not rise above mediocrity. Con- 
sequently, not even one of them has taken its place among the popular melodies of Scotland. 

In Dr. Leyden's MS. Lyra-Viol Book, referred to before in Note, p. 25 of this work, we find (No. 75) a set of 
" Twide Syde," differing in some respects from the more modern sets, especially in the close. That close, which 
seems to us more truly Scottish in character, we have given in the present edition ; while those who prefer a 
different close, may adopt either of those given in the symphony and ritornel. These are likewise old, and are 
much better than the ordinary minuet closes adopted during last century, and which are still allowed to disfigure 
all modern versions of the air. A set of " Tweedside," differing little from the modern sets of the air, appears in 
a work of the famous Florentine violinist, F. M. Veracini, pp. 67-69, with variations. This is the first instance we 
have seen of a Scottish air introduced in the violin solos of any old Italian violinist. The air is not named in 
Veracini's work, but is merely indicated as " Scozzese," i. e. Scottish. This work of Veracini, which is now very 
rare, is entitled " Sonate Accademiche a violino solo e basso," &c, and is dedicated to the King of Poland. 
The verses here given were written for this work by a friend of the publishers. 



106 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



PUIRTITH CAULD. 



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This world's wealth when I think on, 
Its pride, an' a' the lave 2 o't ; 

Fie, fie on silly coward man, 
That he should be the slave o't. 
0, why should fate, &c. 

Her een, sae bonnieblue, betray 
How she repays my passion ; 

But prudence is her owerword 3 aye, 
She talks of rank an' fashion. 
0, why should fate, &c. 



0, wha can prudence think upon, 

An' sic a lassie by him ? 
0, wha can prudence think upon, 

An' sae in love as I am ? 
0, why should fate, &c. 

How blest the humble cottar's fate ! 

He woos his simple dearie ; 
The silly bogles, 4 wealth an' state, 

Can never make them eerie. 6 
0, why should fate, &c. 



' Poverty. 2 Rest, remainder. 3 Any word frequently repeated in conversation or otherwise. * Scarecrow, bugbear. 

5 Affrighted ; affected with fear from whatever cause ; but generally applied to the feeling inspired by the dread of ghosts or spirits. 



" 0, puirtith cauld, and restlbss love." This charming song was written by Burns, and sent to Mr. George 
Thomson in January 1793. It was adapted to the air given to the comic song " I had a horse, an' I had nae mair," 
No. 185 of Johnson's Museum. Burns, with his usual tact and musical perception, seized upon the true character 
of that beautiful air, which is plaintive, and by no means adapted to a comic song. The air appears to be of con- 
siderable antiquity. Like several other old Scottish melodies, it begins in a major key, and ends in the nearest 
relative minor. 

Mr. Robert Chambers, in his Scottish Songs, (1829,) says, "I have been informed that Burns wrote this song 
in consequence of hearing a gentleman (now a respectable citizen of Edinburgh) sing the old homely ditty which 
gives name to the tune, with an effect which made him regret that such pathetic music should be united to such 
unsentimental poetry. The meeting, I have been further informed, where this circumstance took place, was held 
in Johnnie Dowie's, in the Lawnmarket, Edinburgh ; and there, at a subsequent meeting, the new song was also 
sung, for the first time, by the same individual." 



108 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



THIS IS NO MY A IN LASSIE. 



AIR, " THIS IS NO MY AM HOUSE." 



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She's bonnie, bloomin', straight, an' tall, 
An' lang has had my heart in thrall ; 
An' aye it charms my very saul, 
The kind love that's in her e'e. 
this is no my ain lassie, &c. 



A thief sae pawkie 1 is my Jean ; 

She'll steal a blink by a' unseen ; 

But gleg 2 as light are lover's een, 

When kind love is in the e'e. 

this is no my ain lassie, &c. 



It may escape the courtly sparks, 
It may escape the learned clerks ; 
But weel the watchin' lover marks 
The kind love that's in her e'e. 
this is no my ain lassie, &c. 



1 Cunning, sly. 



2 Sharp, ready. 



" this is no my. ain lassie." In the summer of 1795, Burns wrote these stanzas for Mr. George Thomson's 
Collection. James Hogg, in his Jacobite Relies, vol. i. pp. 57, 58, gives the old words, and says, p. 224, " The 
air to which I have set this song is not the original one; but it is the most popular, being always sung both to 
this song and ' This is no my ain lassie,' by Burns. For my part, I like the old original one much better." Hogg 
prints the original air on the same page ; and his is a better set than the one given in Johnson's Museum, No. 216, 
where, at the end of the first and second strains, the introduction of the sharp 7th of the tonic spoils the whole 
character of the air. In the Museum Illustrations, vol. iii. p. 210, Mr. Stenhouse gives what he says is " the 
original air" of " This is no my ain house," from Mrs. Crockat's book, written in 1709. This is the air, with some 
modifications found in later copies, which has been adopted in the present work. As a vocal air, it is much pre- 
ferable to that given by Johnson. We have retained the leap of the 5th in the fourth measure of the first strain, 
according to the Crockat MS. cited by Mr. Stenhouse. 

In the Note, page 33, allusion was made to the unfortunate career of Burns. The following passages from the 
pen of his talented countryman, Thomas Carlyle, (" Heroes, and Hero-worship,") are given as flowers laid reve- 
rently on the tomb of the poet : — " The tragedy of Burns's life is known to all. Surely we may say, if discrepancy 
between place held and place merited constitute perverseness of lot for a man, no lot could be more perverse than 
Burns's. Among those second-hand acting figures, mimes for the most part, of the eighteenth century, once rose a 
giant Original Man ; one of those men who reach down into the perennial deeps, who take rank with the heroic 
among men, and he was born in an Ayrshire hut. The largest soul in all the British lands came among us in the 
shape of a hard-handed Scottish peasant." (P. 296.) " Burns appeared under every disadvantage : uninstructed, 
poor, born only to hard manual toil j and writing, when it came to that, in a rustic special dialect, known only 
to a small province of the country he lived in. Had he written even what he did write in the general language 
of England, I doubt not he had already become universally recognized as being, or capable to be, one of our 
greatest men. That he should have tempted so many to penetrate through the rough husk of that dialect of his, 
is proof that there lay something far from common within it. He has gained a certain recognition, and is con- 
tinuing to do so over all quarters of our wide Saxon world ; wheresoever a Saxon dialect is spoken, it begins to 
be understood, by personal inspection of this and the other, that one of the most considerable Saxon men of the 
eighteenth century was an Ayrshire peasant, named Robert Burns." (P. 298, third edition, 1846.) 



110 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



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The primrose I will pu', the firstlin' o' the year ; 
And I will pu' the pink, the emblem o' my dear ; 
For she's the pink o' womankind, and blooms without a peer : 
And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May. 

I'll pu' the buddin' rose, when Phoebus peeps in -view, 
For it's like a baumy kiss o' her sweet bonnie mou ; 
The hyacinth's for constancy, wi' its unchangin' blue : — 
And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May. 

The lily it is pure, and the lily it is fair, 
And in her lovely bosom I'll place the lily there ; 
The daisy's for simplicity, of unaffected air : — 
And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May. 

The hawthorn I will pu', wi' it's locks o' siller grey, 
Where, like an aged man, it stands at break o' day; 
But the songster's nest witliin the bush I winna take away :— 
And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May. 

The woodbine I will pu' when the e'enin' star is near, 
And the diamond-draps o' dew shall be her een sae clear ; 
The violet's for modesty, which weel she fa's to wear : — 
And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May. 

I'll tie the posie round wi' the silken band o' love, 
And I'll place it in her breast, and I'll swear by a' above, 
That to my latest breath o' life the band shall ne'er remove :— 
And this will be a posie to my ain dear May. 



" love will venture in," &c, was written by Burns for Johnson's Museum. In a letter to Mr. George 
Thomson, 19th October 1794, Burns says, " The Posie, in the Museum, is my composition ; the air was taken 
down from Mrs. Burns' voice. It is well known in the west country ; but the old words are trash." He remarked 
how closely it resembled, in some passages, the air named " Koslin Castle," which he wrongly imagined that 
James Oswald had composed. See Note on " Roslin Castle," page 17 of this work. In Cromek's Reliques, Burns 
gives a specimen of the old song. The following is the first stanza : — 

" There was a pretty May, 1 and a milkin' she went, 

Wi' her red rosy cheeks, and her coal-black hair ; 

And she has met a young man comin' o'er the bent, 2 

With a double and adieu to thee, fair May." 
Professor Wilson, comparing " Heliodora's Garland," by Meleager, with " The Posie," by Burns, says, " The 
Scot surpasses the Greek in poetry as well as passion, his tenderness is more heartfelt, his expression is even more 
exquisite ; for the most consummate art, even when guided by genius, cannot refine and burnish, by repeated 
polishing, the best selected words, up to the breathing beauty, that, warm from the fount of inspiration, sometimes 
colours the pure language of nature." See Allan Cunningham's Works of Burns, vol. iv. p. 236. 



2 The open field. 



112 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



THE BRAES 0' BALQUHIDDER. 



ARRANGED BY J. T. SURENNE. 




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THE BRAES O' BALQUHIDDER. 



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I will twine thee a bower 

By the clear siller fountain, 
An' I'll cover it o'er 

Wi' the flowers o' the mountain 
I will range through the wilds, 

An' the deep glens sae dreary, 
An' return wi' their spoils 

To the bower o' my deary. 
Will ye go, &c. 

When the rude wintry win' 
Idly raves round our dwellin', 

An' the roar o' the linn 
On the night-breeze is swellin',— 



Sae merrily we'll sing, 
As the storm rattles o'er us, 

Till the dear sheeling 1 ring 
Wi' the light liltin' chorus. 
Will ye go, &c. 

Now the summer is in prime, 

Wi' the flowers richly bloomin', 
An' the wild mountain thyme 

A' the moorlands perfumin', — 
To our dear native scenes 

Let us journey together, 
Where glad innocence reigns 

'Mang the braes o' Balquhidder. 
Will ye go, &c. 



A shepherd's cottage ; a hut. 



" The braes o' Balquhidder." This song was written by Robert Tannahill, a Paisley weaver, born in that 
town 3d June 1774. His death occurred on 17th May 1810, by suicide. His biographers assure us that this 
lamentable act arose from no pressure of poverty : " his means were always above his wants." His constitution 
was delicate; his temperament shy and morbidly sensitive; his sedentary occupation, and various griefs and 
disappointments, seem to have produced that mental alienation which clouded the latter days of his brief career. 
None but those who have well considered the insidious progress of mental alienation, and who truly feel how 
"fearfully and wonderfully we are made," can bestow a just tribute of pity and sorrow upon the solemn fate of 
poor Tannahill. Who shall dare to say in his pride, " I am secured from this terrible visitation !" A very cele- 
brated modern poet, in prosperous circumstances, but suffering under great mental depression, declared to a 
friend that he was determined to drown himself. Fortunately the poet's mind recovered its tone, and he died 
quietly in his bed. But he might have committed suicide, while labouring under that mental depression which 
seems so frequently to attend the temperament of genius. 

In Captain S. Fraser's Collection of Melodies of the Highlands and Islands of Scotland, 1816, we find, No. 77, 
Bochuiddar— Balquhidder— which is the air applied to Tannahill's song, with some slight differences, as found in 
vol. i. p. 49, of R. A. Smith's " Scottish Minstrel." 

No. VIII „ 



114 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



WAE'S ME FOR PRINCE CHARLIE. 



AIR, " THE QYPSIE LADDIE. 



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WAE S ME FOR PRINCE CHARLIE. 



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Quoth I, " My bird, my bonnie, bonnie bird, 

Is that a sang ye borrow, 
Are these some words ye've learnt by heart, 
Or a lilt 1 o' dool an' sorrow ?" 
" Oh ! no, no, no," the wee bird sang, 
" Pve flown sin' mornin' early, 
But sic a day o' wind an' rain — 
Oh ! wae's me for Prince Charlie ! 

" On hills that are, by right, his ain, 

He roves a lanely stranger, 
On every side he's press'd by want, 

On every side is danger ; 
Yestreen I met him in a glen, 

My heart maist burstit fairly, 
For sadly changed indeed was he — 

Oh ! wae's me for Prince Charlie ! 



' Dark night cam' on, the tempest roar'd 

Loud o'er the hills an' valleys, 
An' where was't that your Prince lay down, 

Wha's hame should been a palace ? 
He row'd him in a Highland plaid, 

Which cover'd him but sparely, 
An' slept beneath a bush o' broom — 

Oh ! wae's me for Prince Charlie !" 

But now the bird saw some red coats, 

An' he shook his wings wi' anger, 
' Oh ! this is no a land for me ; 

I'll tarry here nae langer !" 
He hover'd on the wing a while 

Ere he departed fairly, 
But weel I mind the fareweel strain 

Was, " Wae's me for Prince Charlie !" 



1 Lilt — tune. 



" Wae's me for Prince Charlie." James Hogg, the Ettrick Shepherd, in his Second Series of Jacobite Relics, 
pp. 192, 193, gives this song, and the air, " The Gypsie Laddie." He ascribes the words to " a Mr. William Glen, 
about Glasgow." It appears that this William Glen was a native of Glasgow, and for some time a manufacturer 
there, and that he died about 1824, in a state of poverty. He was the author of several other songs and poems. 
The air is given in Johnson's Museum, No. 181, under the title of " Johnny Faa, or the Gypsie Laddie," to the 
words of an old ballad beginning, " The gypsies cam' to our Lord's yett." On this Burns observes, that it is the 
only old song which he could ever trace as belonging to the extensive county of Ayr. This song is said to have been 
founded on a romantic adventure in an old Scottish family. Mr. Stenhouse, in his Note upon the song, (vol. ii. 
p. 175 of Museum,) gives a traditional history of the ballad. Mr. Finlay, in his " Scottish Ballads," Mr. William 
Dauney, in his " Ancient Melodies of Scotland," and Captain Charles Gray, R.M., in his " Cursory Remarks on 
Scottish Song," all treat the story of Lady Cassillis' elopement as a malicious fiction, and produce proofs of its 
falsehood. The date of the air is not known, but it appears in the Skene MS. under the name of " Ladie Cassilles 
Lilt ;" though the set there given has undergone considerable changes in the hands of modern editors, especially 
in the second strain. 



116 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



MY LOVE SHE'S BUT A LASSIE YET. 



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MY LOVE SHE S BUT A LASSIE TET. 



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She's neither proud nor saucy yet, 
She's neither plump nor gaucy 3 yet ; 

But just a jinkin', 4 

Bonnie blinkin', 6 
Hilty-skilty' lassie yet. 
But her artless smile's mair sweet 
Than tunny or than marmalete ;' 

An' right or wrang, 

Ere it be lang, 
I'll bring her to a parley yet. 

i Fine. 2 Go. 

5 Looking, or smiling kindly. 



I'm jealous o' what blesses her, 
The very breeze that kisses her, 

The flowery beds 

On which she treads, 
Though wae for ane that misses her. 
Then to meet my lassie yet, 
Up in yon glen sae grassy yet ; 

For all I see 

Are nought to me, 
Save her that's but a lassie yet ! 



3 Large, expanded. 

6 Thoughtlessly playful. 



1 Shyly gamboling ; dodging. 
7 Marmalade. 



" My love she's but a lassie yet." The song given in Johnson's Museum, and written by Burns, with the 
exception of the three lines which are old, is not exactly suitable to the more fastidious taste of the present day. 
Therefore, James Hogg's song, with the same title, has been chosen in preference for this work. It was first 
published in the Edinburgh " Literary Journal," and afterwards in the collection of " Songs by the Ettrick 
Shepherd," Blackwood, Edinburgh, 1831. It appears that the air to which Hogg's words, and the older words 
were sung, was also used as a dance-tune, under the name of " Lady Badinscoth's Reel." Charles Kirkpatrick 
Sharpe, Esq., in his Note on No. 225 of Johnson's Museum, says, " The old title of this air was, ' Put up your 
dagger, Jamie.' The words to this air are in ' Vox Borealis, or the Northern Discoverie, by way of dialogue 
between Jamie and Willie,' 1641. 

" ' Put up thy dagger, Jamie, 

And all things shall be mended, 
Bishops shall fall, no not at all, 

When the Partiament is ended. 
Which never was intended 

But only for to flam thee, 
We have gotten the game, 

We'll keep the same, 
Put up thy dagger, Jamie.' 
" ' This song,' says the author, ' was plaid and sung by a fiddler and a fool, retainers of General Ruthven, 
Governor of Edinburgh Castle, in scorn of the Lords and the Covenanters, for surrendering their strong holds.'"' 



118 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



THE WINTER IT IS PAST. 



ARRANGED BY J. I. SURENNE. 



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THE WINTER IT IS PAST. 



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The rose upon the brier, by the waters running clear, 

May have charms for the linnet or the bee ; 
Their little loves are blest, and their little hearts at rest, 

But my true love is parted from me. 

My love is like the sun, that in the sky does run 

For ever so constant and true ; 
But his is like the moon, that wanders up and down, 

And every month it is new. 

All you that are in love, and cannot it remove, 

I pity the pains you endure ; 
For experience makes me know, that your hearts are full of woe, 

A woe that no mortal can cure. 



" The winter it is past." Mr. Stenhouse, in his Notes on Johnson's Museum, vol. ii. pp. 187, 188, says that 
he " has not yet been so fortunate as to discover who was the author of this plaintive pastoral song : but there 

are several variations between the copy inserted in the Museum, and the following stall edition of the ballad 

The plaintive little air to which this song is adapted, is inserted under the same title in Oswald's Caledonian 
Pocket Companion, Book vii." Mr. Laing, in his Additional Illustrations, id. p. 226, says, " Cromek found the 
first eight lines of this song among Burns's MSS. ; and he published it as a ' Fragment' by the Ayrshire bard, 
obviously unaware that the entire song had been previously included in the present work." In the Theatre 
Koyal, Edinburgh, at his benefit on 24th October 1829, Mr. Braham sang " The winter it is past," with a touching 
effect that is still remembered by many. 

The first eight lines of this song, as given in this work, are taken from fte fragment published by Cromek. 
They contain the alterations made by Burns upon the older song, which are improvements, as will be perceived 
upon comparing these lines with those given in Johnson's Museum, and here quoted :— 
" The winter it is past, and the summer's come at last, 
And the small birds sing on ev'ry tree ; 
The hearts of these are glad, but mine is very sad, 
For my lover has parted from me. 
" The rose upon the brier, by the waters running clear, 
May have charms for the linnet or the bee ; 
Their little loves are blest, and their little hearts at rest, 
But my lover is parted from me." 
The first two lines of the third stanza, as given by Johnson, are so bad that we have adopted in their stead the 
corresponding lines in R. A. Smith's " Scottish Minstrel," which are certainly better than the following doggrel :— 
" My love is like the sun, in the firmament does run, 
For ever is constant and true." 
In the edition given by Mr. Stenhouse, above-mentioned, the third stanza is as follows :— 
" My love is like the sun, 
That unwearied doth run, 

Through the firmament, aye constant and true ; 
But his is like the moon, 
That wanders up and down, 
And is ev'ry month changing anew." 



120 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



WILL YE GO TO THE EWE-BUGHTS, MARION? 



ARRANGED BY G. F. GRAIIAM. 



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WILL YE GO TO THE EWE-BUGHTS, MARION'? 



121 




Marion's a bonnie lass, 

And the blythe blink's in her e'e ; 
And fain wad I marry Marion, 

Gin Marion wad marry me. 

There's gowd in your garters, 2 Marion, 
And silk on your white hause-bane ; 

Fu' fain wad I kiss my Marion, 
At e'en, when I come hame. 

There's braw lads in Earnslaw, Marion, 
Wha gape, and glow'r 3 wi' their e'e, 

At kirk, when they see my Marion ; 
But nane o' them lo'es like me. 



I've nine milk-ewes, my Marion, 
A cow, and a brawny quey ; 4 

I'll gi'e them a' to my Marion 
Just on her bridal-day. 

And ye'se get a green sey 6 apron, 
And waistcoat o' the London brown ; 

And wow but ye will be vap'rin' 
Whene'er ye gang to the town. 

I'm young and stout, my Marion ; 

Nane dances like me on the green : 
And gin ye forsake me, Marion, 

I'll e'en gae draw up wi' Jean. 



Sae put on your pearlins, Marion, 

And kyrtle o' the cramasie ;' 
And soon as the sun's down, my Marion, 

I shall come west, and see ye. 

2 " At the time when the ladies wore hoops, they also wore finely embroidered garters for exhibition ; because, especially in dancing the 

hoop often shelved aside, and exposed the leg to that height." — R. Chambers. (See Traditions of Edinburgh, vol. ii. p. 57.) 

3 Stare. 4 Heifer. 5 A home-made woollen stuff. 6 Ornaments of lace, (Jil perle, hard twisted thread.) 7 Crimson. 



" Will ye go to the ewe-eughts, Marion ?" The song and the air appear to be both old. The song is marked 
in Ramsay's Tea-Table Miscellany (1724) as an old song with additions. It cannot now be ascertained who wrote 
the song, or who composed the air ; but it seems very evident that the air has been hitherto wrongly given in its 
notation in all printed copies ; and there is no existing ancient MS. containing the air to which we can refer. The 
printed copies of the air give an unrhythmical melody, not suitable to the beseeching expression of the song. The 
prominent word and name " Marion," (pronounced as two syllables, "Maron") is associated with short and jerking 
notes, which, besides being ill suited to the words, throw the melody into an irregular rhythm. In the present 
edition, the air is reduced to regular rhythm, without changing one of the sounds of the received melody ; while 
it is believed that the original melody is thus restored in its true supplicatory accentuation and emphasis on the 
word " Marion." Any good singer who tries the present set, will at once perceive the improvement in point of 
expression and of rhythmical construction. As to this point, we are willing to abide by the opinion of all the best- 
educated musicians of Europe. That there was extreme carelessness and ignorance on the part of the persons 
who noted down our old Scottish melodies in MS. books, we are prepared to prove from the oldest MSS. of our 
airs existing. In many cases appears barring at random, without the slightest regard to the true rhythm and 
melodic structure of the airs ; and with no indication whatever of the relative duration of the sounds indicated by 
the letters of the old tablature. In cases of this kind, rational interpretation must be used. It does not follow, 
that because an air is wrongly noted, or tablatured, by ignorant writers, the air is wrong in its true and original 
form. This observation applies to MSS. and printed works of much greater importance than any that we allude 
to as containing wrongly written or printed Scottish airs. In the second volume of Thomson's Orpheus Caledo- 
nius, (1733,) we find an air under the title of " Will ye go to the ewe-bughts ?" which bears a remote, resemblance 
to the generally received air. It is by no means so vocal or melodious as the latter ; but it affords another proof 
of the strange transformations that old Scottish airs have undergone in passing through the hands of different 
publishers. We have repeatedly alluded to these transformations. The air in the Orpheus Caledonius is in a 
pseudo-major key, while all other sets that we have seen are in a minor key. 



122 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



DUNCAN GRAY. 



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Gart 8 poor Dun - can stand a - beigh; 9 



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Duncan fleech'd, 10 and Duncan pray'd, 

Ha, ha, the wooing o't, 
Meg was deaf as Ailsa Craig, 11 

Ha, ha, the wooing o't. 
Duncan sigh'd baith out and in, 
Grat 12 his een baith bleer'd 13 and blin', 14 
Spak' o' lowpin' 15 o'er a linn, 16 

Ha, ha, the wooing o't. 

Time and chance are but a tide, 

Ha, ha, the wooing o't, 
Slighted love is sair 17 to bide, 18 

Ha, ha, the wooing o't. 
Shall I, like a fool, quo' he, 
For a haughty hizzie 19 die ? 
She may gae to — France for me ! 

Ha, ha, the wooing o't. 



How it comes, let doctors tell, 

Ha, ha, the wooing o't, 
Meg grew sick as he grew well, 

Ha, ha, the wooing o't. 
Something in her bosom wrings, 
For relief a sigh she brings ; 
And 0, her een, they spak' sic things ! 

Ha, ha, the wooing o't. 

Duncan was a lad o' grace, 

Ha, ha, the wooing o't, 
Maggie's was a piteous case, 

Ha, ha, the wooing o't. 
Duncan couldna be her death, 
Swelling pity smoor'd 20 his wrath ; 
Now they're crouse 21 and canty 22 baith, 

Ha, ha, the wooing o't. 



i Tipsy. 2 Cast. 3 FulL 4 High. 5 Askance. 6 Very. 

7 Proud ; saucy. 8 Made ; forced. 9 At a shy distance. "> Supplicated flatteringly. 

» A remarkably large and lofty rock, rising in the Firth of Clyde, between the coasts of Ayrshire and Kintyre. 12 Wept, 

is Bleared. 1 4 Blind. I5 Leaping. 16 A waterfall; a precipice. I7 Sore; painful. 

18 Bear; endure. " A young girL 20 Smothered. "Cheerful. 22 Merry. 



"Duncan Gray." "It is generally reported, (says Mr. Stenhouse,) that this lively air was composed by 
Duncan Gray, a carter or carman in Glasgow, about the beginning of last century, and that the tune was taken 
down from his whistling it two or three times to a musician in that city. It is inserted both in Macgibbon and 
Oswald's Collections." See Museum Illustrations, vol. ii. page 148. The words given in this work are those 
written by Burns in December 1792. 



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124 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



THE SOLDIER'S RETURN. 



AIR, " THE MILL, MILL, 0." 



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A leal light heart beat in my breast, 

My hands unstain'd wi' plunder ; 
And for fair Scotia, hame again, 

I cheery on did wander. 
I thought upon the banks o' Coil, 

I thought upon my Nancy ; 
I thought upon the "witchin' smile, 

That caught my youthful fancy. 
At length I reach'd the bonnie glen, 

Where early life I sported ; 
I pass'd the mill and trystin' thorn, 

Where Nancy oft I courted. 
Wha spied I but my ain dear maid, 

Down by her mother's dwelling ! 
And turn'd me round to hide the flood 

That in my e'e was swelling. 
Wi' alter'd voice, quoth I, Sweet lass, 

Sweet as yon hawthorn's blossom, 
! happy, happy may he be, 

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. 
Sae wistfully she gazed on me, 

And lovelier was than ever ; 
Quoth she, A sodger ance I loved 

Forget him will I never ! 



Our humble cot and hamely fare, 

Ye freely shall partake it ; 
That gallant badge, the dear cockade, 

Te're welcome for the sake o't ! 
She gazed — she redden'd like a rose — 

Syne pale as ony lily ; 
She sank within my arms, and cried, 

Art thou my ain dear Willie ? 
By Him who made yon sun and sky, 

By whom true love's regarded, 
I am the man ! and thus may still 

True lovers be rewarded. 
The wars are o'er, and I'm come hame, 

And find thee still true-hearted ; 
Though poor in gear, we're rich in love, 

And mair we'se ne'er be parted. 
Quoth she, My grandsire left me gowd, 

A mailin' plenish'd fairly ; 
Then come, my faithfu' sodger lad, 

Thou'rt welcome to it dearly. 
For gold the merchant ploughs the main, 

The farmer ploughs the manor ; 
But glory is the sodger's prize, 

The sodger's wealth is honour. 
The brave poor sodger ne'er despise, 

Nor count him as a stranger : 
Remember he's his country's stay, 

In day and hour of danger. 



"When wild war's deadly blast was blawn." This song was written by Burns, in the spring of 1793, to 
take place of unseemly old verses that used to be sung to the same air. Captain Charles Gray, R.M., in his 
" Cursory Remarks on Scottish Song," No. 15, thinks that the song was probably suggested by a casual meeting 
with " a poor fellow of a sodger," in a little country inn ; which Burns mentions in a letter to John Ballantine, 
Esq. The air is probably much older than the date of Mrs. Crockat's MS., 1709, beyond which Mr. Stenhouse 
does not trace its antiquity. Gay chose the air for one of his songs in " Polly," printed in 1729. 



126 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



AULD ROB MORRIS. 



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

But ! she's an heiress — auld Robin's a laird, 
And my daddie 6 has nocht but a cot-house and yard; 
A wooer like me maunna 7 hope to come speed; 
The wounds I must hide that will soon be my dead. 8 

The day comes to me, but delight brings me nane ; 
The night comes to me, but my rest it is gane; 
I wander my lane 9 like a night-troubled ghaist, 10 
And I sigh as my heart it wad " burst in my breast. 

had she but been of a lower degree, 

1 then might ha'e hoped she wad smiled upon me ; 
0, how past descriving 12 had then been my bliss, 
As now my distraction no words can express. 



1 Dwells. 
" Must not. 



! Good, 
a Death. 



1 Choice. 
1 Lone. 



* Gold. 
1 "Ghost. 



5 Oxen. 
" Would. 



« Father. 
1 2 Describing. 



" Auld Rob Morris." This air appears in tablature in the Leyden MS. Lyra-Viol Book, mentioned in the 
Note page 25 of this work. It differs a little from the sets given by Johnson and others. The set adopted by 
the arranger for this work is nearly the one given in Watts' Musical Miscellany, 1730. The neglect of the 
ordinary campass of voices, alluded to in Note page 19, occurs again in this air. The air was published in the 
Orpheus Caledonius, in 1725, and in Watts' Musical Miscellany, 1730, vol. iii. p. 174, and in Craig's Select 
Scottish Tunes, printed in the same year. Mr. D. Laing notices the air as occurring in Mr. Blaikie's MS., dated 
1692, under the name of "Jock the Laird's Brother." In November 1792, Burns wrote for the air the words 
here given. The two first lines only belong to the old ballad given in Allan Ramsay's Tea-Table Miscellany. 



128 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



JOHN ANDERSON, MY JO. 



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JOHN ANDERSON, MY JO. 



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John Anderson, my jo, John, 
We clamb the hill thegither, 

And nony a canty 3 day, John, 
We' re had wi' ane anither ; 
l High, straight, smooth. 



Now we maun totter down, John, 
But hand in hand we'll go, 

And we'll sleep thegither at the foot, 
John Anderson, my jo. 
3 Cheerful, happy. 



" John Anderson, my jo." In an old MS. written about 1560, and which belonged to Bishop Percy, some 
stanzas of the old song were preserved : they will be found in the " Reliques of Ancient English Poetry," vol. ii. 
It appears, from tradition, that this John Anderson was the town-piper of Kelso, and a remarkable character. 
The air of " John Anderson, my jo," must be very old. It occurs in the Skene MS. ; but the set there given 
(see No. 7 of Mr. Dauney's edition of that MS.) differs considerably from the modern sets. In the latter, the first 
two bars throw the air at once into a minor key, and the next two bars pass to the subtonic of that key ; while 
the former has a remarkable vagueness of key in the first two bars of the melody. This vagueness of modulation 
in the set given in the Skene MS. savours of some old Romish Church chant, and seems to attest the greater 
antiquity of that set. Mr. Stenhouse, in his Notes on Johnson's Museum, says that " John Anderson, my jo," is 
found in Queen Elizabeth's Virginal Book ; but it would appear that he had confounded that air with a very 
different one, " John, come kiss me now," which appears in the Virginal Book, with variations by Bird. Mr. 
Chappell, in his " Collection of National English Airs," No. 220, gives an air resembling « John Anderson," under 
the title of "Paul's Steeple," from Playford's "Dancing Master," 1650. Mr. Chappell says, that "another old 
name for this tune is, ' I am the Duke of Norfolk ;'" but mentions nothing of its being found in the Virginal Book. 
Upon making minute inquiry, we find that in the Virginal Book there is no air under the title of "John Anderson, 
my jo." The air of " John, come kiss me now," is given by Mr. Chappell (No. 235) as found in Queen Elizabeth's 
Virginal Book, and in several old printed collections. It is an air in a major key, and quite different from the 
air of "John Anderson." In a collection of old Popular Swedish Ballads with the airs, published at Stockholm 
in 1816, ("Svenska Folkvisor," &c.,) No. I. of the first volume, is a melody in E minor, which, in several 
passages, reminds us strongly of " John Anderson." The Editor pointed this out to the late William Dauney, Esq., 
wuo alludes to the resemblance in his " Dissertation," prefixed to his edition of the Skene Manuscript. 

The stanzas written by Burns for Johnson's Museum in 1789, are those which we give to the air. Other addi- 
tional stanzas have been published ; upon which Doctor Currie makes the following just observation :— " Every 
reader will observe that they are by an inferior hand, and the real author of them ought neither to have given 
them, nor suffered them to be given to the world, as the production of Burns." It is certainly far short of literary 
honour and honesty in any man to attempt to pass off, upon public credulity, his own spurious verses as the pro- 
duce of a great poet. Burns has suffered much injustice of this kind. 

No. IX. « 



130 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



I LO'E NA A LADDIE BUT ANE. 



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Let ithers brag weel o' their gear, 3 

Their land, and their lordly degree ; 
I earena for ought but my dear, 

For he's ilka 4 thing lordly to me. 
His words are sae sugar'd, sae sweet ! 

His sense drives ilk fear far awa' ! 
I listen, poor fool ! and I greet ; 

Yet how sweet are the tears as they fa' ! 

" Dear lassie," he cries, wi' a jeer, 

" Ne'er heed what the auld anes will say ; 
Though we've little to brag o' — ne'er fear ; 

What's gowd to a heart that is wae ? 
Our laird has baith honours and wealth, 

Yet see how he's dwining 5 wi' care ; 
Now we, though we've naething but health, 
Are cantie and leal evermair. 



' Menie ! the heart that is true, 

Has something mair costly than gear ; 
Ilk e'en it has naething to rue, 

Ilk morn it has naething to fear. 
Ye warldlings, gae hoard up your store, 

And tremble for fear ought ye tyne," 
Guard j'our treasures wi' lock, bar, and door, 

True love is the guardian o' mine." 

He ends wi' a kiss and a smile — 

Wae's me, can I tak' it amiss ! 
My laddie's unpractised in guile, 

He's free aye to daut' and to kiss ! 
Ye lasses wha lo'e to torment 

Your wooers wi' fause scorn and strife, 
Play your pranks — I ha'e gi'en my consent, 

And this night I am Jamie's for life. 



! Bought. 



: A short cloak. 



3 Riches ; goods. 



1 Every. 



5 Pining away. 



6 Lose. 



" I lo'e na A laddie but ane." The first stanza of this song, as well as a second which is here omitted, are 
said, on the authority of Burns, to have been written by the Rev. Mr. Clunie of Borthwick. " In Ritson's 
Collection, the reader will find the letters J. D. prefixed to the song, which is directed to be sung to the 
tune of ' Happy Dick Dawson.' H J. D. be the initial letters of the composer's name, Burns must have been 
misinformed. The four supplementary stanzas, beginning ' Let others brag weel o' their gear,' were composed 
by Hector Macneill, Esq., before noticed. Mr. Macneill told me this himself. The musical reader will easily 
observe a striking affinity between the Scots air and the Dish tune called ' My lodging is on the cold ground.'" 
See Museum Dlustrations, vol. iii. p. 251. Mr. Stenhouse is quite right as to the resemblance between these two 
tunes. As we wish to act on the right maxim of giving to every one his due, we have no hesitation in saying 
that we believe this to be a mere modification of the Irish tune ; although it has so long passed current in 
Scottish Collections as a Scottish air, as to be generally received as part of our national melodic property. Its 
structure shows it not to belong to ancient Scotland. 

The words having been altered by different editors, the original song is given in the Appendix. 



132 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



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SAW YE JOHNNIE COMIN"? 



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Fee him, father, fee him, quo' she, 

Fee him, father, fee him ; 
Fee him, father, fee him, quo' she, 

Fee him, father, fee him ; 
For he is a gallant lad, 

And a weel-doin' ; 
And a' the wark about the house, 

Gaes wi' me when I see him, quo' she, 

Wi' me when I see him. 



What will I do wi' him, quo' he, 

What will I do wi' him ? 
He's ne'er a sark upon his back— 

And I ha'e nane to gi'e him. 
I ha'e twa sarks into my kist, 

And ane o' them I'll gi'e him ; 
And for a merk o' mair fee 

Dinna stand wi' him, quo' she, 

Dinna stand wi' him. 



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. 
fee him, father, fee him, quo' she, 

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

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

And crack wi' me at e'en. 



" Saw ye Johnnie comin' ?" " This song, for genuine humour, and lively originality in the air, is unparalleled. 
I take it to be very old." — Bwns's Reliques. This observation has been hastily made; for the air, either when 
played or sung slowly, as it ought to be, is exceedingly pathetic, not lively. Burns afterwards became sensible 
of this ; for, in one of his letters to Thomson, inserted in Currie's edition of his works, he says, " I inclose you 
Fraser's set of this tune ; when he plays it slow, in fact he makes it the language of despair. Were it possible, 
in singing, to give it half the pathos which Fraser gives it in playing, it would make an admirable pathetic song. 
I shall here give you two stanzas in that style, merely to try if it will be any improvement." These stanzas begin 
" Thou hast left me ever, Jamie," &c. " Mr. Thomas Fraser, to whom Burns alludes, was an intimate acquaintance 
of the poet, and an excellent musician. He still lives, and is at present (1820) the principal oboe concerto player 
in Edinburgh, of which city he is a native. His style of playing the melodies of Scotland is peculiarly chaste and 
masterly." See Museum Illustrations, vol. i. pp. 5, 6. The Editor of the present work can speak of the abilities 
of Thomas Fraser as an excellent oboe player. For him, expressly, were written several solo passages in Orches- 
tral Symphonies by the Editor, which were performed at the public Edinburgh " Fund Concerts," &c. Fraser 
died in 1825. 

The following are the two stanzas written by Burns for this air, and sent to Mr. Thomson in September 1793 : 



Thou hast left me ever, Jamie, 

Thou hast left me ever ; 
Thou hast left me ever, Jamie, 

Thou hast left me ever. 
Aften hast thou vow'd that death 

Only should us sever ; 
Now thou's left thy lass for aye — 

I maun see thee never, Jamie, 

I'll see thee never. 



Thou hast me forsaken, Jamie, 

Thou hast me forsaken ; 
Thou hast me forsaken, Jamie, 

Thou hast me forsaken. 
Thou canst love anither jo, 

While my heart is breaking : 
Soon my weary e'en I'll close, 

Never mair to waken, Jamie, 

Ne'er mair to waken. 



134 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



HERE'S A HEALTH TO ANE I LO'E DEAR. 



AKHANGED BY J. T. SURE.NXE. 



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I mourn through the gay gaudy day, 
As hopeless I muse on thy charms ; 

But welcome the dream o' sweet slumber, 
For then I am lock'd in thy arms, Jessie ! 

I guess by the dear angel smile, 

I guess by the love-rolling e'e ; 
But why urge the tender confession, 

'Gainst fortune's fell cruel decree ? — Jessie ! 



"Here's a health to ane I lo'e dear." In Blackie's "Book of Scottish Song," p. 133, is the following 
Note : — " This exquisite little song was among the last Burns ever wrote. It was composed in honour of Jessie 
Lewars, (now Mrs. Thomson of Dumfries,) the sister of a brother exciseman of the poet, and one who has 
endeared her name to posterity by the affectionate solicitude with which she tended Burns during his last 
illness." Mr. Stenhouse, in vol. v. p. 371 of Museum, says that the air was communicated by Burns, but is not 
genuine. Mr. Stenhouse annexes a copy of the music in three-eight time, which he gives as correct, but does not 
say whence he derived it. The author of the tune is not known. It has little of a Scottish, and still less of an 
antique character. In Johnson's, and other more recent sets of the air, the rhythm is spoiled by an interpola- 
tion, to make it suit the metre of verses written by Burns, which do not correspond with the metre of the 
Jacobite song as given by Mr. Stenhouse ; each stanza of which consists of three lines of eight syllables, and 
one of seven. 

Burns himself strenuously opposed any alterations in national Scottish melodies. In a letter to Mr. Thomson, 
April 1793, in which he sends the song beginning " Farewell, thou stream that winding flows," he writes thus : — 
" One hint let me give you — whatever Mr. Pleyel does, let Mm not alter one iota of the original Scottish airs ; I 
mean in the song department ; but let our national music preserve its native features. They are, I own, 
frequently wild and irreducible to the more modern rules ; but on that very eccentricity, perhaps, depends a 
great part of their effect." In his answer to that letter, Mr. Thomson, 26th April 1793, says : — "Pleyel does 
not alter a si'igle note of the songs. That would be absurd, indeed ! With the airs which he introduces into the 
sonatas, I allow him to take such liberties as he pleases, but that has nothing to do with the songs." 



136 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



ORAN AN AOIG; OR, THE SONG OF DEATH. 

ARRANGED BY O. F. GRAHAM. 



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well 9 thou fair day, thou green earth, and ye skies, Now gay with the broad setting sun: Fare 



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well, loves and friendships, ye dear ten -der ties! Our race of ex-is-tence is run! 



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Thou grim king of ter - rors, thou life's gloomy foe, Go fright - en the coward and 

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ORAN AN AOIG; OR, THE SONG OF DEATH. 



137 



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Thou strik'st the dull peasant, he sinks in the dark, 
Nor saves e'en the wreck of a name : 

Thou strik'st the young hero, a glorious mark ! 
He falls in the blaze of his fame. 



In the field of proud honour, our swords in our hands. 

Our king and our country to save ; 
Whiie victory shines on life's last ebbing sands, 

Oh, who would not die with the brave ! 



"Oran an Aoig; or, The Sonq of Death." In a letter addressed to Mrs. Dunlop, dated Ellisland, 17th 
December 1791, Burns says, "I have just finished the following song, which, to a lady, the descendant of many 
heroes of his truly illustrious line, and herself the mother of several soldiers, needs neither preface nor apology. 

Scene a field of battle. Time of the day— evening. The wounded and the dying of the victorious army are 

supposed to join in the following Song of Death — ' Farewell, thou fair day,' &c. The circumstance that gave rise 
to the foregoing verses, was looking over, with a musical friend, Macdonald's Collection of Highland Airs. I was 
struck with one, an Isle of Skye tune, entitled Oran an Aoig ; or, The Song of Death, to the measure of which I have 
adapted my stanzas." In a recent work, entitled " The Romance of War, or the Highlanders in France and Bel- 
gium," by James Grant, Esq., late 62d Regiment, we find two very remarkable passages, one of which relates to 
the air Oran an Aoig. We quote from both. Speaking of the Gordon Highlanders, Mr. Grant, in his Preface, 
says, " Few, few indeed of the old corps are now alive ; yet these all remember, with equal pride and sorrow, 

' How, upon bloody Quatre Bras, 
Brave Cameron heard the wild hurra 
Of conquest as he fell ;' 

and, lest any reader may suppose that in these volumes the national enthusiasm of the Highlanders has been 
over-drawn, I shall state one striking incident which occurred at Waterloo. On the advance of a heavy column of 
French infantry to attack La Haye Sainte, a number of the Highlanders sang the stirring verses of ' Bruce's 
Address to his army,' which, at such a time, had a most powerful effect on their comrades ; and long may such 
sentiments animate their representatives, as they are the best incentives to heroism, and to honest emulation." 
The following passage from the same work, relates to Colonel Cameron abovementioned, and to the air Oran an 
Aoig. Colonel Cameron of Fassifern, mortally wounded, is carried by some of his men and the surgeon to a house 
in the village of Waterloo, to die. P. 163, et seq. Cameron addresses the piper : " ' Come near me, Macvurich ; I 
would hear the blast of the pipe once more ere I die. Play the ancient Death-Song of the Skye-men ; my fore- 
fathers have often heard it without shrinking.' 'Oran an AoigV said the piper, raising his drones. Tho 
Colonel moved his hand, and Macvurich began to screw the pipes and sound a prelude on the reeds, whose notes, 
even in this harsh and discordant way, caused the eyes of the Highlander to flash and glare, as it roused the fierce 
northern spirit in his bosom. ' He ordered that strange old tune to be played from the first moment I declared 
his wound to be mortal,' said the surgeon in a low voice. 'It is one of the saddest and wildest I ever heard.'" 
And thus died the brave Cameron at Waterloo, the last earthly sounds he heard being those of the air Oran an Aoig. 



138 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



WHA'LL BE KING BUT CHARLIE? 



ARRANGED BY II. E. DIEDDI. 



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WHA'lL BE KING BUT CHARLIE ? 



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The Highland clans wi' sword in hand, 
Frae John o' Groats to Airly, 

Ha'e to a man declared to stand 
Or fa' wi' Royal Charlie. 
Come through the heather, &c. 

The Lowlands a', baith great an' sma', 
Wi' mony a lord an' laird, ha'e 

Declared for Scotia's king an' law, 
An' speir 3 ye wha but Charlie ? 
Come through the heather, &c. 



2 Wonder. 



There's ne'er a lass in a' the land, 
But vows baith late an' early, 

To man she'll ne'er gi'e heart or hand, 
Wha wadna fecht for Charlie. 
Come through the heather, &c. 

Then here's a health to Charlie's cause, 

An' be't complete an' early, 
His very name our heart's blood warms- 

To arms for Royal Charlie ! 
Come through the heather, &c. 

3 Ask, inquire. 



" Wha'll be king el*t Charlie ? " This air was published by Captain Simon Fraser in his " Airs and Melodies 
peculiar to the Highlands of Scotland and the Isles; Edinburgh, 1816." It is No. 136 of that work, the editor 
of which gives the following singularly curious Note upon it : — 

"No. 136. This is a melody common to Heland, as well as to the Highlands of Scotland, — but, having been 
known in this country since the 1 745, as one of the incentives of rebellion ; if originally Irish, some of the troops 
or partisans engaged for Charles from that country might have brought it over, — but the melody is simple and 
beautiful, assimilating itself very much to the stile of either." 

The author of the words has not been discovered. 

We subjoin the following particulars of the memorable landing of Prince Charles Edward : — " On the 19th July 
1745, Charles cast anchor in Lochnanuagh, a small arm of the sea, partly dividing the countries of Moidart and 
Arisaig. . . . Charles came on shore upon the 25th ; when the Doutelle, having landed her stores, again set sail 
for France. He was accompanied by only seven men, — the Marquis of Tullibardine ; Sir Thomas Sheridan, an 
Irish gentleman who had been tutor to the Prince ; Sir John Macdonald, an officer in the Spanish service ; Francis 
Strickland, an English gentleman ; Kelly, an English clergyman ; jEneas Macdonald, a banker in Paris, brother 
to Kinlochmoidart ; and one Buchanan, a messenger. He first set foot on Scottish ground at Borodale, a farm 
belonging to Clanranald, close by the south shore of Lochnanuagh. Borodale is a wild piece of country, forming 
a kind of mountainous tongue of land betwixt two bays. It was a place suitable, above all others, for the circum- 
stances and designs of the Prince, being remote and inaccessible, and, moreover, the very centre of that country 
where Charles's secret friends resided. It belongs to a tract of stern mountain land, prodigiously serrated by 
actuaries, which lies immediately to the north of the diboueki of the great Glen of Albyn, now occupied by the 
Caledonian Canal." — Chambers' History of the Rebellion o/1745. 



140 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



THE WEARY PUND 0' TOW. 



ARRANGED BY G. F. GRAHAM. 



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There sat * a bottle in a bole, * 
Beyont the ingle 3 low ; 4 

And ay she took the tither souk, 
To drouk 5 the stourie 6 tow. 
The weary pund, &e. 



Quoth I, For shame, ye dirty dame, 
Gae spin your tap o' tow ! 

She took the rock, and wi' a knock, 
She brak it o'er my pow. 7 
The weary pund, &c. 



At last her feet, I sang to see't, 
Gaed 8 foremost o'er the knowe :' 

And or I wad 10 anither jad, 
I'll wallop in a tow ! n 
The weary pund, &c. 



1 In Ayrshire, sit is generally used instead of stand. 
I Dusty. ' Head. 8 Went. 



2 A recess. 
9 milock. 



8 Fire. 

io E'er I wed. 



8 To moisten 
1 1 Dangle in a rope. 



" The weary poxd o' tow." The tune and the title of this song are from Oswald's Caledonian Pocket Com- 
panion, Book viii. The verses were written by Burns for Johnson's Museum. There is no trace of the author of 
the air, which is one of our best modern Scottish airs. Its structure shows it to be modern ; that is to say, that 
it is not older than the earlier part of the eighteenth century. (See Appendix.) From the skilful way in which 
Burns composed verses to Scottish airs, we have long been of opinion that he must not only have had a musical 
ear, but must have had some practical knowledge of music. On mentioning our opinion to a friend, he confirmed 
it by facts which we are not at liberty to state, but which we hope he will soon give to the public. 



142 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



MY AIN KIND DEARIE, 0. 



ARRANGED 13Y T. M. MUDIE. 



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meet thee on the lea - rig, My 



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In mirkest 3 glen, at midnight hour, 

I'd rove, and ne'er be eerie, 4 ; 
If thro' that glen I gaed to thee, 

My ain kind dearie, ! 
Although the night were ne'er sae wild, 

And I were ne'er sae weary, 0, 
I'd meet thee on the lea-rig, 

My ain kind dearie, ! 



poco nten. 



The hunter lo'es the morning sun, 

To rouse the mountain deer, my jo ; 
At noon the fisher seeks the glen, 

Along the burn to steer, my jo ; 
Gi'e me the hour o' gloamin' gray, 

It mak's my heart sae cheerie, 0, 
To meet thee on the lea-rig, 

My ain kind dearie, 0. 



1 The hour when the ewes are driven into the pen to be milted. 



2 Dull ; exhausted. 



3 Darkest. 



1 Frightened. 



" My ain kind dearie, 0." James Oswald published the old melody in his Caledonian Pocket Companion, 
vol. iii. Its author is not known. It was more anciently called " The lea-rig," from a song beginning, 

" I'll rowe thee o'er the lea-rig, 
My ain kind dearie, ; 
I'll rowe thee o'er the lea-rig, 

My ain kind dearie, 0. 
Although the night were ne'er sae wat, 

And I were ne'er sae weary, 0, 
I'll rowe thee o'er the lea-rig, 
My ain kind dearie, 0." 
The words here given to the air were written by Burns in October 1792. It will be seen that he availed 
himself of the fifth and sixth lines of the old song in his second stanza. In his letter to Mi'. Thomson, sending 
two stanzas of the new song, he says, " Let me tell you, that you are too fastidious in your ideas of songs and 
ballads. I own that your criticisms are just ; the songs you specify in your list have, all but one, the faults you 
remark in them ; but who shall mend the matter ? Who shall rise up and say — Go to, I will make a better ? 
For instance, on reading over ' The lea-rig,' I immediately set about trying my hand on it, and, after all, I could 
make nothing more of it than the following, which, heaven knows, is poor enough." 

The following stanzas were written for this air by William Reid, Bookseller, Glasgow. Ferguson's song, of 
which they were intended to be a continuation, is scarcely fit for insertion here. — 

At gloamin', if my lane I be, Whare through the birks the burnie rows, 

Oh, but I'm wondrous eerie, : Aft ha'e I sat fu' cheerie, 0, 

And mony a heavy sigh I gi'e, Upon the bonnie greensward howes, 

When absent frae my dearie, ; Wi' thee, my kind dearie, 0. 

But seated 'neath the milk-white thorn, I've courted till I've heard the craw 

In ev'ning fair and dearie, 0, Of honest chanticleerie, 0, 

Enraptured, a' my cares I scorn, Yet never miss'd my sleep ava, 

When wi' my kind dearie, 0. Whan wi' my kind dearie, 0. 



For though the night were ne'er sae dark, 

And I were ne'er sae weary, 0, 
I'd meet thee on the lea rig, 

My ain kind dearie, 0. 
While in this weary warld of wae, 

This wilderness sae drearie, 0, 
What makes me blythe, and keeps me sae 5 

'Tis thee, my kind dearie, ! 



144 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



LASSIE WF THE LINT-WHITE LOCKS. 



AIR, " ROTHIEMCRCHUS RANT 

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ARRANGED BY J. T. SURENNE. 





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Las - sie wi' the lint- white locks, Bon - nie las - sie, art - less lassie; Wilt thou wi' me tent the flocks? 



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LASSIE WI THE LINT-WHITE LOCKS. 



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And when the welcome simmer-shower 
Has cheer'd ilk drooping little flower, 
We'll to the breathing woodbine bower 
At sultry noon, my dearie, 0. 
Lassie wi' the lint-white locks, &c. 



When Cynthia lights, wi' silver ray, 
The weary shearer's hameward way ; 
Thro' yellow waving fields we'll stray, 
And talk o' love, my dearie, 0. 
Lassie wi' the lint- white locks, &c. 



And when the howling wintry blast 
Disturbs my lassie's midnight rest ; 
Enclasped to my faithfu' breast, 
I'll comfort thee, my dearie, 0. 
Lassie wi' the lint-white locks, &c. 



"Lassie wi' the lint-white looks." Burns, in a letter to George Thomson, September 1794, makes th< 
following observations : — " I am sensible that my taste in music must be inelegant and vulgar, because people oi 
undisputed and cultivated taste can find no merit in my favourite tunes. Still, because I am cheaply pleased, is 
that any reason why I should deny myself that pleasure ? Many of our strathspeys, ancient and modern, give 
me most exquisite enjoyment, where you and other judges would probably be showing disgust. For instance, I 
am just now making verses for ' Rothemurche's Rant,' an air which puts me in raptures ; and, in fact, unless I 
be pleased with the tune, I never can make verses to it. Here I have Clarke on my side, [Stephen Clarke, an 
Englishman,] who is a judge that I will pit against any of you. ' Rothemurche,' * he says, ' is an air both original 
and beautiful ;' and on his recommendation, I have taken the first part of the tune for a chorus, and the fourth, 
or last part, for the song. I am but two stanzas deep in the work, and possibly you may think, and justly, that 
the poetry is as little worth your attention as the music." The song that Burns here alluded to was " Lassie wi' 
the lint-white locks," which he sent to Mr. Thomson in November 1794 



No. X. 



* Rothiemurchus. 
K 



146 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



FOB, LACK OF GOLD. 



AllKAXGED EV FI.NLAY DUN. 



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No cruel fair shall ever move 
My injured heart again to love ; 
Through distant climates I must rove, 
Since Jeanie she has left me, ! 



Ye powers above, I to your care 
Commit my lovely, charming fair ; 
Your choicest blessings be her share, 
Though she's for ever left me, ! 



" For lack of gold." The author of this song was Adam Austin, M.D., an Edinburgh physician. Notwith- 
standing his threat in the second stanza of his song, he thought better, and married, on T7th September 1754, Miss 
Anne Sempill, sister of the Right Honourable Lord Sempill. This lady survived her husband nearly twenty years ; 
Dr. Austin dying 28th November 1774, and his wife 27th November 1793. The lady alluded to in the song was 
Miss Jean Drummond of Megginch, who jilted the Doctor for James Duke of Atholl, whom she married 7th June 
1749. She survived the Duke, and also her second husband, Lord Adam Gordon, and died 22d February 1795. 
Mr. Sharpe says, "There is a portrait of this fickle. Duchess at Abercairney; anything but beautiful." See 
Museum Illustrations, vol. ii. pp. 153, and 214, 215. As to the air, see Note upon " The brier bush," p. 149 of 
this work. 



148 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



THE MURMUR OF THE MERRY BROOK. 



AIR, " THE BONNIE BRIER BUSH.'' 



ARRANGED EY T. M. Ml'DIE. 



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THE MURMUR OP THE MERRY BROOK. 



149 




The music of the gay green wood, 

When every leaf and tree 
Is coax'd by winds, of gentlest mood, 

To utter harmony ; 
And the small birds, that answer make 

To the winds' fitful glee, 
In me most blissful visions wake, 
Of love and thee. 

The rose perks up its blushing cheek, 

So soon as it can see, 
Along the eastern hills, one streak 

Of the sun's majesty : 
Laden with dewy gems, it gleams 

A precious freight to me, 
For each pure drop thereon me seems 
A type of thee. 



[And when abroad in summer morn, 

I hear the blythe bold bee 

Winding aloft his tiny horn, 

(An errant knight perdy,) 

The stanzas within brackets may be omitted. 



That winged hunter of rare sweets, 

O'er many a far country, 
To me a lay of love repeats, 
Its subject — thee.] 

And when, in midnight hour, I note 

The stars so pensively, 
In their mild beauty, onward float 

Through heaven's own silent sea : 
My heart is in their voyaging 

To realms where spirits be, 
But its mate, in such wandering, 
Is ever thee. 

[But, oh, the murmur of the brook, 

The music of the tree ; 
The rose with its sweet shamefaced look, 

The booming of the bee ; 
The course of each bright voyager, 

In heaven's unmeasured sea, 
Would not one heart pulse of me stir, 
Loved I not thee !] 



" The murmur or the merry brook." This song was written by William Motherwell, and was published in 
his Poems, Glasgow, 1832. We have adapted it here to the melody " The brier bush," as the words usually 
sung to that air are but indifferent. We subjoin them, however, in case they should be preferred to those we 
have given above. They are an improved version of the original song sent to Johnson's Museum by Burns. For 
an account of the air, see the next Note. 

There grows a bonnie brier bush in our kail-yard ; 
And white are the blossoms o't in our kail-yard : 
Like wee bit white cockauds for our loyal Hieland lads ; 
And the lassies lo'e the bonnie bush in our kail-yard. 

But were they a' true that were far awa' ? 

Oh ! were they a' true that were far awa' ? 

They drew up wi' glaiket 1 Englishers at Carlisle ha', 

And forgot auld frien's when far awa'. 

Ye'll come nae mair, Jamie, where aft you've been ; 
Ye'll come nae mair, Jamie, to Athole's Green ; 
Ye lo'ed ower weel the dancin' at Carlisle ha', 
And forgot the Hieland hills that were far awa'. 

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



' Giddy ; thoughtless, 



150 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



WE'LL MEET BESIDE THE DUSKY GLEN. 



AIR, '• YUN EURJi SLUE." 



ARRANGED BY I. M. JIL'DJE. 



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I'll lead thee to the birken bow'r, on yon burn-side, 
Sae sweetly wove wi' woodbine flow'r, on yon burn-side : 

There the mavis we will hear, 

And the blackbird singin' clear, 
As on my arm ye lean, down by yon burn-side. 

Awa', ye rude unfeeling crew, frae yon burnside ; 
Those fairy scenes are no for you, by yon burn-side ; 

There fancy smooths her theme, 

By the sweetly murmuring stream, 
And the rock-lodged echoes skim, down by yon burn-side. 

Now the plantin' taps are tinged wi' gowd, on yon burn-side, 
And gloamin' 3 draws her foggy shroud o'er yon burn-side ; 

Far frae the noisy scene, 

I'll through the fields alane ; 
There we'll meet, my am dear Jean ! down by yon burn-side. 



1 "Warm, snus, well sheltered. 



2 Hillocks. 



3 Twilight. 



" We'll meet beside the dusky glen." This Air is another version of " The brier bush," which seems to have 
been recovered by R. A. Smith. It was published by him in connexion with Tannahill's song, early in the present 
century. As the poet and the musician were intimately acquainted, the following extracts from a letter of R. A. 
Smith, (published in " The Harp of Renfrewshire,") may be interesting to the admirers of Tannahill's genius :— 

" My first introduction to Tannahill was in consequence of hearing his song, ' Blythe was the time,' sung while 
it was yet in manuscript. I was so much struck with the beauty and natural simplicity of the language, that I 
found means shortly afterwards of being introduced to its author. The acquaintance thus formed, gradually 
ripened into a warm and steady friendship, that was never interrupted in a single instance till his lamented death." 
" It was only from his compositions that a stranger could form any estimate of his talents — his appearance indi- 
cated no marks of genius— his manner was rather distant, and it was but in company with a few with whom he 
was very intimate, that his conversation became animated: in a large assembly he appeared to great disad- 
vantage; was quite uneasy, and seldom spoke, except to the person nearest him, if he happened to be an 
acquaintance." 

The older version of " The brier bush," which we have given pp. 148, 149, was first published in the fifth volume 
of Johnson's Museum, about 1798. Mr. Stenhouse's Note upon the air and song, as given in the Museum, is as 
follows : — " This song, with the exception of a few lines, which are old, was written by Burns for the Museum. 
It is accordingly marked with the letter Z, to denote its being an old song with additions. Burns likewise com- 
municated the air to which the words are adapted. It is apparently the progenitor of the improved tune, called 
' For the lake of gold she's left me,' to which Dr. Austin's words are adapted, and which the reader will find 
inserted in the second volume of the Museum." See Museum Illustrations, vol. v. p. 432. Whatever part of 
these verses was written by Burns, is by no means worthy of his pen. Instead of the air communicated by Burns 
being "the progenitor" of the air called "For the lack of gold," &c, the reverse seems much more probable; 
since the melody of an old song, " For the lak of gold I lost her, 0," is given by Oswald in his " Pocket Com- 
panion." The air communicated by Burns seems but an altered fragment of the other ; and was, perhaps, picked 
up by him from the singing of some country girl. 



152 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



FOR A' THAT, AN' A' THAT. 



ARRANGED BY J. T. SURENJJE. 



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What tho' on hamely fare we dine, 

Wear hodden- grey, 1 an' a' that ? 
Gi'e fools their silks, an' knaves their wine; 

A man's a man, for a' that ; 
For a' that, an' a' that, 

Their tinsel show, an' a' that. 
The honest man, tho' e'er sae puir, 

Is king o' men, for a' that. 

Ye see yon birkie, 2 ca'd a lord, 

Wha struts, an' stares, an' a' that ; 
Tho' hundreds worship at his word, 

He's but a cuif, 3 for a' that. 
For a' that, au' a' that, 

His ribbon, star, an' a' that. 
The man of independent mind, 

He looks an' laughs at a' that. 

Cloth used by the peasantry, which has the natural colour of the wool. 
4 Try ; attempt ; venture. See Appendix-. 



A king can mak' a belted knight, 

A marquis, duke, an' a' that ; 
But an honest man's abune his might — 

Gude faith, he maunna fa' 4 that ! 
For a' that, an' a' that, 

Their dignities, an' a' that, 
The pith o' sense, the pride o' worth, 

Are higher ranks than a' that. 

Then let us pray, that come it may, 

As come it will, for a' that, 
That sense an' worth o'er a' the earth, 

May bear the gree, 5 an' a' that ; 
For a' that, an' a' that, 

It's comin' yet, for a' that, 
That man to man, the warld o'er, 

Shall brothers be, for a' that. 



2 A young fellow. 
s Pre-eminence ; 



3 A simpleton ; a fool, 
superiority. 



" For a' that, an' a' that." We have no information regarding the authorship of the air. Burns wrote two 
songs to it; one for the Museum, in 1789, beginning " Tho' women's minds, like winter winds;" and the other 
in 1794. The latter is the song we have adopted. Mr. Stenhouse speaks of this song as follows : — " In 1794, 
Burns wrote the following capital verses to the same air, which were handed about in manuscript a considerable 
time before they appeared in print. They unfortunately came out at a period when political disputes ran very 
high, and his enemies did not fail to interpret every sentence of them to his prejudice. That he was the zealous 
friend of rational and constitutional freedom, will not be denied ; but that he entertained principles hostile to the 
safety of the State, no honest man that knew him will ever venture to maintain. In fact, what happened to 
Burns, has happened to most men of genius. During times of public commotion, there are always to be found 
vile and dastardly scoundrels, who, to render themselves favourites with those in power, and push their own 
selfish views of interest and ambition, are ever ready to calumniate the characters, and misrepresent the motives 
and actions of their neighbours, however good, innocent, or meritorious." See Museum Illustrations, vol. iii. 
pp. 284, 285. In other editions, the melody begins with two semiquavers ; for these we have substituted a quaver, 
as more manly and decided, and therefore better suited to the character of the words ; and as the accentuation of 
the first line of the song requires a slight alteration of the melody, we have given the proper notation for it at the 
end of the air. 



154 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



THE BATTLE OF PRESTON. 



AIR. " JOnSNIE oorE. 



ARRANGED BY FINLAY DUN. 



126 



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Lang ere the cock proclaim'd it day, 
The Prince's men stood in array ; 
And, though impatient for the fray, 

Bent low the knee that morning. 
When row-dow roll'd the English drum, 
The Highland bagpipe gi'ed a bum, 
And told the mountain Clans had come, 

Grim death and danger scorning. 

Ilk hand was firm, ilk heart was true ; 
A shot ! and down their guns they threw ; 
Then forth their dread claymores they drew, 

Upon that fearfu' morning. 
The English raised a loud huzza, 
But durstna bide the brunt ava ; 
They waver'd — turn'd — syne ran awa', 

Like sheep at shepherd's warning. 



Fast, fast, their foot and horsemen flew ; 
And caps were mix'd wi' bonnets blue, 
And dirks were wet — but no wi' dew, 

Upon that dreadfu' morning. 
Few stay'd — save ae devoted band — 
To bide the blow frae Highland brand, 
That swept around — and head and hand 

Lopp'd, on that bluidy morning. 

What sad mishaps that few befell ! 
When faint had grown the battle's yell, 
Still Gardiner fought — and fighting fell, 

Upon that awesome morning ! 
Nae braggart — but a sodger he, 
Wha scom'd wi' coward loons to flee; 
Sae fell aneath the auld thorn tree, 

Upon that fatal morning ! 



" Johnnie Cope." " This old air," says Mr. Stenhouse, " which originally consisted of one strain, was formerly 
adapted to some silly verses of a song, entitled ' Fye to the hills in the morning.' The chorus, or burden of the 
song, was the first strain repeated an octave higher. An indifferent set of the tune, under the title of ' Johny 
Cope,' appears in Oswald's Caledonian Pocket Companion, vol. ix." See Museum Illustrations, vol. iii. p. 219. The 
verses given to the air in this work are published by permission of their author, Captain Charles Gray, R.M., with 
his latest alterations. Sec Appendix for an account of the historical circumstances alluded to by Captain Gray in 
his clever song. 



156 



SCOTTISH SONGS. 



WHY SHOULD I, A BRISK YOUNG LASSIE. 



ARRANGED BY (i. F. GRAHAM. 



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die far ra - ther than gi'e him my han' ! 



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A' my kin are like to deave 9 me 
'Bout house an' hame, an' siller an' Ian' ; 
Deil tak' the siller an' Ian' a' thegither ! 
I'll ilie far rather than gi'e him my han' ! 



My ain jo is young an' bonnie, 

An' tho' he's puir, he's aye true to me ; 

I'll ha'e nae man but my ain dearest Johnnie, 

An' ne'er the auld man, altho' I should die \ 



l Feeble. s Coughing. 3 Limping. 

6 Execrate. 7 Chimney-corner ; fireside. 



4 Cripple. 

8 Talking foolishly. 



5 Staring. 
9 Deafen. 



" Why should I, a bkisk young lassie." The air is No. 48 of Mr. Dauney's edition of the Skene MS., and 
bears the title, " I will not goe to my bed till I suld die." The air is spirited, and worth reviving ; and the only 
liberty taken with it has been to reduce the extreme instrumental leaps in the Skene MS. to a vocal condition. 
The old words being lost, the verses here given to the air were written by a friend of the Publishers. The old 
title suggested the present verses. With regard to the irregularity of the rhythm, or rather metre, in these 
stanzas, the writer quotes thus from Moore :— " In the Preface to the fifth volume of ' The Poetical Works of 
Thomas Moore,' collected by himself, 1S41, the following passage occurs : — ' Those occasional breaches of the laws 
of rhythm, which the task of adapting words to airs demands of the poet, though very frequently one of the 
happiest results of his skill, become blemishes when the verse is separated from the melody, and require, to justify 
them, the presence of the music to whose wildness or sweetness the sacrifice had been made. In a preceding page 
of this preface, I have mentioned a Treatise by the late Rev. Mr. Crowe, on English versification ; and I remember 
his telling me, in reference to the point I have just touched upon, that, should another edition of that work be 
called for, he meant to produce, as examples of new and anomalous forms of versification, the following songs 
from the Irish Melodies, ' Oh the days are gone when beauty bright,' ' At the dead hour of night, when stars are 
weeping, I fly,' and, ' Through grief and through danger thy smile hath cheered my way.' " 

In addition to Mr. Moore's remarks, allusion may be made to the irregular versification of the ancient Latin 
ballad-mongers— reciters and singers of Ballistea, whence our term Ballad— and even to the Latin hymns of the 
earlier Christian poets. We may also refer, passim, to the remarkable and now very scarce work on Music, written 
in Latin by the blind Spanish Professor of Music at Salamanca, Francis Salinas, and published there in 1577 ; 
especially to a passage in that work, page 356, where he gives a specimen of singular Spanish versification, 
together with the music sung to it. The words are " Perricos de mi senora, No me mordades agora." On this he 
makes the following observation— we translate :— " I have not found versification of this kind among either the 
Greeks or the Latins ; nor do I think it is to be found among the French or the Italians. But it is credible that 
it was introduced among the Spaniards— together with many other customs and words and songs— by the 
Arabians, after they took possession of Spain, which they occupied for more than seven hundred years." 



APPENDIX. 



Under this head we purpose giving— 1st, Additional observations upon the Songs and Melodies contained in this 
volume; 2d, The old songs which have been superseded in the text by modern verses ; 3d, Additional modern songs 
to a few of the airs ; and 4th, Two or three of the old airs mentioned in the Notes. 



" The Flowers op the Forest." — Pp. 2, 3. 

" By the ' Forest ' in this song, and in ancient Scottish story, is not meant the forest or the woods generally, but 
that district of Scotland anciently, and sometimes still, called by the name of The Forest. This district compre- 
hended the whole of Selkirkshire, with a considerable portion of Peebles-shire, and even of Clydesdale. It was a 
favourite resort of the Scottish kings and nobles for hunting. The Forest boasted the best archers, and perhaps 
the finest men in Scotland. At the battle of Falkirk, in 1298, the men of the Forest were distinguished, we are 
told, from the other slain, by their superior stature and beauty." — Chambers' Scottish Songs. 



" Gloojiy winter's now awa." — Pp. 6, 7. 

In a little work called " The Harp of Renfrewshire," Paisley, 1819, we find the following account of the origin of 
this song, and also of some of the peculiarities of its author, Robert Tannahill. It forms a portion of a letter written 
by R. A. Smith, (the composer of "Jessie, the flower of Dumblane," and other Scottish melodies,) who was an 
intimate friend of the poet : — 

" He (Tannahill) was particularly averse to enter the company of people above his own station of life ; as an 
instance of this, I shall relate one little anecdote. 

" Miss of 1 was particularly fond of the Scottish melody, ' Lord Balgownie's favourite,' and had expressed 

a wish to see it united to good poetry. I accordingly applied to my friend, who produced his song, ' Gloomy winter's 
now awa,' in a few days. As soon as I had arranged the ah-, with symphonies and accompaniment for the piano- 
forte, I waited on the lady, who was much delighted with the verses, and begged of me to invite the author to take 
a walk with me to the house at any leisure time. I knew that it would be almost impossible to prevail on Robert 
to allow himself to be introduced by fair means, so, for once, I made use of the only alternative in my power, by 
beguiling him thither during our first Saturday's ramble, under the pretence of being obliged to call with some 
music I had with me for the ladies. This, however, could not be effected, till I had promised not to make him 

known, in case any of the family came to the door ; but how great was his astonishment when Miss came 

forward to invite him into the house by name ; I shall never forget the awkwardness with which he accompanied us 
to the music room. He sat as it were quite petrified, till the magic of the music, and the great affability of the 
ladies, reconciled him to his situation. In a short time Mr. — — came in, was introduced to his visitor in due form, 
and with that goodness of heart and simplicity of manner, for which he is so deservedly esteemed by all who have 
the pleasure of knowing him, chatted with his guest till near dinner time, when Robert again became terribly 

uneasy, as Mr. insisted on our staying to dine with the family. Many a rueful look was cast to me, and many 

an excuse was made to get away, but alas ! there was no escaping with a good grace ; and finding that 1 was little 

inclined to understand his signals, the kind request was at length reluctantly complied with After a 

cheerful glass or two, the restraint he was under gradually wore away, and he became tolerably communicative. 
I believe that when we left the mansion, the poet entertained very different sentiments from those with which he had 
entered it. He had formed an opinion that nothing, save distant pride and cold formality, was to be met with from 
people in the higher walks of life, but on experiencing the very reverse of his imaginings, he was quite delighted, 

and when Mr. 's name happened to be mentioned in his hearing afterwards, it generally called forth expressions 

of respect and admiration. ' Gloomy winter's now awa,' became a very popular song, and was the reigning 
favourite in Edinburgh for a considerable time." 

The following clever song to the same air, was written, in his early days, by Captain Charles Gray, R. M. It is 
here published by the permission, and with the latest corrections of the author : — 

When the sun o'er Kelly-law Parted clouds ascend the sky. 

Lets the e'enin' shadows fa', Deeply dipt in Nature's dye ; 

And the winds ha'e died awa'. To their nests the songsters fly, 

I wander forth fu' eheerie, 0. 'Mang bushes thick and briery, 0. 



160 



APPENDIX. 



Then the twinklin' star of May* 
Lights the seaman on his way ; 
So the hour o' gloamin' grey, 

Lights me to my loved dearie, 0. 
When the blast o' winter chill 
Blaws the drift o'er Renny-hill, 
Snawy wreathes the hollows fill, 

And ilka thing looks drearie, 0. 



Bare and leafless, Airdry woods, 
Ravin' wi' the angry thuds, 
Toss their branches to the cluds, 

Wi' sugh fu' sad and eerie, 0. 
Winter ! blaw thy wildest blast — 
Be the sky wi' cluds o'ercast; 
Let me clasp her at the last, 

My fond, my faithfu' dearie, ! 



"Bide ye yet." — Pp. 14, 15. 

The following are the verses referred to in the Note upon this air. The authoress, Miss Jenny Graham, was born 
in 1724, at Shaw, in the small but picturesque valley of Dryfe. The estate, which has been in the possession of the 
family for several centuries, was inherited by the descendants of Sir Nicol Graham, who married Mary, (the white 
lady of Avenel,) the daughter and heiress of Robert of Avenel. Miss Graham resided a considerable time in Dum- 
fries, where she was a universal favourite, on account of her sprightly conversation and constant good humour. She 
died in Edinburgh, in April 1805, aged eighty-two. A more detailed notice of her, by C. K. Sharpe, Esq., will be 
found in the illustration to Johnson's Museum, vol. i. p. 141, etseq. 



Alas ! my son, you little know 
The sorrows that from wedlock flow ; 
Farewell to every day of ease, 
When you have got a wife to please. 

Sae bide you yet, and bide you yet, 
Ye little ken what's to betide you yet ; 
The half of that will gane you yet, 
If a wayward wife obtain you yet. 

Your ain experience is but small, 
As yet you've met with little thrall ; 
The black cow on your foot ne'er trode, 
Which gars you sing alang the road. 
Sae bide you yet, &c. 

Sometimes the rock, sometimes the reel, 
Or some piece of the spinning wheel, 
She'll drive at you, my bonnie chiel, 
And send you headlangs to the de'il. 
Sae bide you yet, &c. 



WAYWARD WIPE. 

When I, like you, was young and free, 
I valued not the proudest she, 
Like you, I vainly boasted then, 
That men alone were born to reign. 
Sae bide you yet, &c. 

Great Hercules, and Samson, too, 
Were stronger men than I or you, 
Yet they were baffled by their dears, 
And felt the distaff and the sheers. 
Sae bide you yet, &c. 

Stout gates of brass, and well-built walls, 
Are proof 'gainst swords and cannon balls ; 
But nought is found by sea or land, 
That can a wayward wife withstand. 
Sae bide you yet, and bide you yet, 
Ye little ken what's to betide you yet ; 
The half of that will gane you yet, 
If a wayward wife obtain you yet. 



" My love's m Germahy."— Pp. 28, 29. 

In the version of this air which we have inserted in the test, the major seventh G sharp occurs several times; in 
this respect we have followed Johnson's Museum, the oldest authority for the air. We are aware that some singers 
prefer the minor seventh G natural, a note which certainly agrees with the old Scottish tonality, but sounds rather 
uncouth to ears that have been accustomed to the sharp. We leave every singer to choose his own version accord- 
ing to taste, seeing that while the old tonality supports one note, the oldest printed authority adheres to the other. 



" Busk ye, busk ye."— Pp. 38, 39. 
From want of space we were obliged to omit a large portion of this ballad in the body of the work ; we now give 
a complete copy of it : — 

THE BRAES OP YARROW. 

A. " Busk ye, busk ye, my bonnie, bonnie bride ! B. " Where gat ye that bonnie, bonnie bride ? 
Busk ye, busk ye, my winsome marrow ! Where gat ye that winsome marrow ?" 

Busk ye, busk ye, my bonnie, bonnie bride, A. " I gat her where I daurna weel be seen, 
And think nae mair of the braes of Yarrow." Puing the birks on the braes of Yarrow. 

* The Isle of May, on which there is a light-house. It will be perceived that the sceHery of this little descriptive song lies on the east of 
Fife, of which the author is a native. 



APPENDIX. 



161 



" Weip not, weip not, my bonnie, bonnie bride, 
Weip not, weip not, my winsome marrow ! 
Nor let thy heart lament to leive 

Puing the birks on the braes of Yarrow." 

B. " Why does she weip, thy bonnie, bonnie bride ? 
Why does she weip, thy winsome marrow ? 
And why daur ye nae mair weel be seen, 
Puing the birks on the braes of Yarrow ? " 

A. " Lang maun she weip, lang, lang maun she weip, 
Lang maun she weep wi' dule and soitow, 
And lang maun I nae mair weel be seen, 
Puing the birks on the braes of Yarrow. 

" For she has tint her luver deir, 

Her luver deir, the cause of sorrow ; 
And' I ha'e slain the comeliest swain 

That e'er pu'd birks on the braes of Yarrow. 

" Why runs thy stream, Yarrow, red ? 

Why on thy braes heard the voice of sorrow ? 
And why yon melancholious weids, 
Hung on the bonnie birks of Yarrow ? 

' What's yonder floats on the rueful nude ? 

What's yonder floats ? — Oh, dule and sorrow ! 
'Tis he, the comely swain I slew 
Upon the dulefu' braes of Yarrow ! 

" Wash, oh, wash his wounds in tears, 

His wounds in tears o' dule and sorrow , 
And wrap his limbs in mourning weids, 
And lay him on the banks of Yarrow. 

" Then build, then build, ye sisters sad, 
Ye sisters sad, his tomb wi' sorrow ; 
And weip around, in waefu' wise, 

His hapless fate on the braes of Yarrow ! 

" Curse ye, curse ye, his useless shield, 

The arm that wrocht the deed of sorrow, 
The fatal spear that pierced his breist, 

His comely breist, on the braes of Yarrow ! 

" Did I not warn thee not to love, 

And warn from fight ? But, to my sorrow, 
Too rashly bold, a stronger arm thou met'st, 
Thou met'st, and fell on the braes of Yarrow. 

" Sweit smells the birk ; green grows the grass ; 
Yellow on Yarrow's braes the gowan ; 
Fail' hangs the apple frae the rock ; 
Sweit the wave of Yarrow flowin' ! 

" Flows Yarrow sweit? as sweit flows Tweed ; 
As green its grass ; its gowan as yellow ; 
As sweit smells on its braes the birk ; 
The apple from its rocks as mellow ! 

" Fair was thy love ! fair, fair, indeed, thy love ! 
In flowery bands thou didst him fetter ; 
Though he was fear, and well-beloved again, 
Than me he never loved thee better. 

" Busk ye, then, busk, my bonnie, bonnie bride ! 
Busk ye, busk ye, my winsome marrow ! 
Busk ye, and lo'e me on the banks of Tweed, 
And think nae mair on the braes of Yarrow." 



C. " How can I busk a bonnie, bonnie bride ? 
How can I busk a winsome marrow ? 
How can I lo'e him on the banks of Tweed, 
That slew my love on the braes of Yarrow? 

" Oh, Yarrow fields, may never rain 
Nor dew thy tender blossoms cover ! 
For there was basely slain my love, 
My love, as he had not been a lover. 

" The boy put on his robes of green, 

His purple vest — 'twas my ain sewin' ; 
Ah, wretched me ! I little, little kenn'd 
He was in these to meet his ruin. 

" The boy took out his milk-white steed, 
Unmindful of my dule and sorrow : 
But, ere the too-fa' of the nicht, 

He lay a corpse on the banks of Yarrow ! 

" Much I rejoiced, that waefu' day ; 

I sang, my voice the woods returning ; 
But, lang ere nicht, the spear was flown 
That slew my love, and left me mourning. 

" What can my barbarous father do, 
But with his cruel rage pursue me ? 
My lover's blude is on thy spear — 
How canst thou, barbarous man, then, woo me ? 

" My happy sisters may be proud, 
With cruel and ungentle scoffing, 
May bid me seek, on Yarrow braes, 
My lover nailed in his coffin. 

" My brother Douglas may upbraid, 

And strive, with threat'ning words, to move me : 
My lover's blude is on thy spear — 

How canst thou ever bid me love thee ? 

" Yes, yes, prepare the bed of love ' 
With bridal sheets my body cover ! 
Unbar, ye bridal maids, the door ' 
Let in th' expected husband-lover ! 

" But who the expected husband is ? 

His hands, methinks, are bathed in slaughter ! 
Ah, me ! what ghastly spectre's yon, 

Comes, in his pale shroud, bleeding after ? 

" Pale as he is, here lay him down ; 
lay his cold head on my pillow ! 
Take off, take off these bridal weids, 

And crown my careful head with willow. 

" Pale though thou art, yet best beloved, 

Oh, could my warmth to life restore thee ! 
Yet lie all night between my breasts — 
No youth lay ever there before thee ! 

" Pale, pale, indeed, oh lovely youth, 
Forgive) forgive so foul a slaughter, 
And lie all night between my breasts, 
No youth shall ever lie there after !"' 

A. " Return, return, mournful bride ! 
Return, and dry thy useless sorrow ! 
Thy lover heids nocht of thy sighs ; 

He lies a corpse on the braes of Yarrow." 



162 



APPENDIX. 



In our Note upon this song, we referred to an air in the Leyden MS. called "The lady's goune;" as it is evidently 
the original of " The braes of Yarrow," we subjoin it here for the satisfaction of the curious in ancient melody :— 





fe^j^j^ 



si 



= p=^ 



Q 



gj^gf 



^ 



We may remark, that in these old Tablatures, where there is often no indication of time or measure, or dura- 
tion of notes, a translation must be, in a great degree, conjectural, and will task to the utmost the ingenuity of 
the ablest musician. 



" Tak' your auld cloak about ye."— Pp. 44, 45. 
The excellent song which we give below is quoted by Ritson from a MS. in the British Museum of the age of 
Charles I. No air of its own has been discovered for it ; but both the measure and the recitative style of the song 
are well suited to " Tak' your auld cloak about ye." 



Get up, gudewife, don on your claise, 

And to the market mak' you boune : 
'Tis lang time sin' your neebors rase ; 

They're weel nigh gotten into the toune. 

See ye don on your better goune, 
And gar the lasse big on the fyre. 

Dame, do not look as ye wad frowne, 
But doe the thing whilk I desyre. 

I spier what haste ye ha'e, gudeman ! 

Your mother staid till ye war born ; 
Wad ye be at the tether can, 

To scoure your throat sae sune this morne ? 

Gude faith, I haud it but a scorne, 
That ye suld with my rising mell ;? 

For when ye have baith said and sworne, 
I'll do but what I like mysel'. 

Gudewife, we maun needs have a care, 

Sae lang's we wonne in neebor's rawe, 
0' neeborheid to tak' a share, 

And rise up when the cock does crawe ; 

For I have heard an auld said sawe, 
" They that rise last big on the fyre." 

What wind or weather so ever blaw, 
Dame, do the thing whilk I desyre. 

Nay, what do ye talk of neeborheid ? 

Gif I lig in my bed till noone, 
By nae man's shins I bake my breid, 

And ye need not reck what I have done. 

Nay, look to the clooting o' your shoone, 
And with my rising do not mell ; 

For, gin ye lig baith sheets abune, 
I'll do but what I will mysel'. 

Gudewife. we maun needs tak' a care 
To save the geare that we ha'e won ; 

Or lye away baith plow and car, 
And hang up Ring 2 when a' is done. 



! The dog. 



Then may our bairns a-begging run, 
To seek their mister 3 in the myre. 

Sae fair a thread as we ha'e won ! 
Dame, do the thing whilk I require. 

Gudeman, ye may weel a-begging gang, 

Ye seem sae weel to bear the pocke; 
Ye may as weel gang sune as syne, 

To seek your meat amang gude folke. 

In ilka house ye'll get a locke, 
When ye come whar your gossips dwell. 

Nay, lo you luik sae like a gowke, 
I'll do but what I list mysel'. 

Gudewife, you promised, when we were wed, 

That ye me truly wad obey ; 
Mess John can witness what you said, 

And I'll go fetch him in this day : 

And, gif that haly man will say, 
Ye's do the thing that I desyre, 

Then sail we sune end up tins fray, 
And ye sail do what I require. 

I nowther care for John nor Jacke — 

I'll take my pleasure at my ease ; 
I care not what you say a placke — 

Ye may go fetch him gin ye please. 

And, gin ye want ane of a mease, 
Ye may e'en gae fetch the deil fra belle, 

I wad you wad let your japin cease, 
For I'll do but what I like mysel'. 

Well, sin' it will nae better be, 

I'll tak' my share or a' be gane : 
The warst card in my hand sail flee, 

And, i' faith, I wait I can shifte for ane. 

I'll sell the plow, and lay to wadd the waine, 
And the greatest spender sail beare the bell : 

And then, when all the gudes are gane, 
Dame, do the thing ye list yoursel'. 

3 Means of livelihood. 



APPENDIX. 



163 



" The ekoom o' the Cowdenknowes." — Pp. 56, 57. 

We here give the old words to this air, which were displaced from the text to make way for the excellent verses 
by Mr. Gilfillan. They were originally published in the Tea-Table Miscellany, 1724, with the initials S. R. attached 
to them ; the author's name, however, has not hitherto been discovered. The words to which the tune was originally 
adapted have been lost, with the exception of the burden or chorus — 

" 0, the broom, the bonnie, bonnie broom, 
The broom o' the Cowdenknowes ; 
I wish I were at harae again, 
Milking my daddie's ewes." 



How blythe ilk morn was I to see 

My swain come o'er the hill ! 
He skipt the burn, and flew to me, 
I met him wi' good will. 

0, the broom, the bonnie, bonnie broom, 

The broom of the Cowdenknowes ! 
I wish I were wi' my dear swain, 
Wi' his pipe, and my ewes. 

I neither wanted ewe nor lamb, 

While his flocks near me lay ; 
He gather'd in my sheep at night, 

And cheer'd me a' the day. 

. 0, the broom, &c. 

He tuned his pipe and reed sae sweet, 

The birds sat list'ning by ; 
Ev'n the dull cattle stood and gazed, 
i Charm'd wi' his melody. 
0, the broom, &c. 

While thus we spent our time by turns, 

Betwixt our flocks and play, 
I envied not the fairest dame, 

Though e'er so rich and gay. 
0, the broom, &c. 



Hard fate ! that I should banish'd be, 

Gang heavily, and mourn, 
Because I loved the kindest swain 

That ever yet was boru. 
0, the broom, &c. 

He did oblige me every hour ; 

Couldlbutfaithfu'be? 
He staw my heart ; could I refuse 

Whate'or he ask'd of me ? 
0, the broom, &c. 

My doggie, and my little kit, 

That held my wee soup whey, 
My plaidie, broach, and crooked stick, 

Maun now lie useless by. 
0, the broom, &c. 

Adieu, ye Cowdenknowes, adieu ! 

Fareweel a' pleasures there ! 
Ye gods, restore me to my swain, 
It's a' I crave or care. 

0, the broom, the bonnie, bonnie broom. 

The broom of the Cowdenknowes ! 
I wish I were wi' my dear swain, 
Wi' his pipe, and my ewes. 



" Andro and his cutty gun." — Pp. 58, 59. 

The old song to this air is full of humour, and though it has been banished from the drawing-room, is still 
welcome at the " ingle-side." Referring to it, Burns says, " This blythesome song, so full of Scottish humour and 
convivial merriment, is an intimate favourite at bridal-trystes and house-heatings. It contains a spirited picture ol 
a country ale-house, touched off with all the lightsome gaiety so peculiar to the rural muse of Scotland." 



Blythe, blythe, and merry was she, 

Blythe was she but and ben ; 
Weel she loo'd a Hawick gill, 

And leuch to see a tappit hen. 
■ She took me in, she set me doun, 

And hecht to keep me lawin'-free ; 
But, cunning carline that she was, 

She gart me birle my bawbee. 

We loo'd the liquor weel eneuch ; 

But, wae's my heart, my cash was done, 
Before that I had quench'd my drouth, 

And laith was I to pawn my shoon. 
When we had three times toom'd our stoup, 

And the neist chappin new begun, 
In startit, to heeze up our hope, 

Young Andro, wi' his cutty gun. 



The carline brocht her kebbuck ben, 

Wi' girdle-cakes weel-toasted brown ;- 
Weel does the canny kimmer ken, 

They gar the scuds gae glibber doun. 
We ca'd the bicker aft about, 

Till dawnin' we ne'er jee'd our bun, 
And aye the cleanest drinker out 

Was Andro wi' his cutty gun. 

He did like ony mavis sing ; 

And, as I in his oxter sat, 
He ca'd me aye his bonnie thing, 

And mony a sappy kiss I gat. 
I hae been east, I hae been west, 

I hae been far ayont the sun ; 
But the blythest lad that e'er I saw, 

Was Andro wi' his cutty gun. 



164 



APPENDIX. 



"Logan Water."— Pp: 70, 71. 

"Bums does not appear to have known more than two lines of Mayne's song to this air, and these he incorporated 
in his own song, which he sent to Mr. George Thomson, 25th June 1793, with the following observations :— 

" Have you ever, my dear Sir, felt your bosom ready to burst with indignation on reading of those mighty villains 
who divide kingdom against kingdom, desolate provinces, and lay nations waste, out of the wantonness of ambition, 
or often from still more ignoble passions ? In a mood of this kind to-day I recollected the air of ' Logan Water.' 
and it occurred to me that its querulous melody probably had its origin from the plaintive indi°-nation of some 
swelling, suffering heart, fired at the tyrannic strides of some public destroyer, and overwhelmed with private 
distress, the consequence of a country's ruin. If I have done anything at all like justice to my feelings, the 
following song, composed in three-quarters of an hour's meditation in my elbow-chair, ought to have some merit : 



•' Logan, sweetly didst thou glide, 
That day I was my Willie's bride ! 
And years sinsyne ha'e o'er us run, 
Like Logan to the simmer sun. 
But now thy flow'ry banks appear 
Like drumlie winter, dark and drear, 
While my dear lad maun face his faes, 
Far, far frae me and Logan braes ! 

" Again the merry month o' May 
Has made our hills and valleys gay ; 
The birds rejoice in leafy bowers, 
The bees hum round the breathing flowers : 
Blythe morning lifts his rosy eye, 
And evening's tears are tears of joy : 
My soul, delightless, a' surveys, 
While Willie's far frae Logan braes. 



Within yon milk-white hawthorn bush, 
Amang her nestlings sits the thrush ; 
Her faithfu' mate will share her toil, 
Or wi' his song her cares beguile : 
But I, wi' my sweet nurslings here, 
Nae mate to help, nae mate to cheer, 
Pass widow'd nights and joyless days, 
While Willie's far frae Logan braes. 

" wae upon you, men o' state, 
That brethren rouse to deadly hate ! 
As ye make mony a fond heart mourn, 
Sae may it on your heads return ! 
How can your flinty hearts enjoy 
The widow's tears, the orphan's cry? 
But soon may peace bring happy days 
And Willie hame to Logan braes !" 



As the term Tonality, used several times in the Note to this and other airs, may not be understood by many 
persons, the following explanation is given. It was written by the Editor of this work for the seventh edition of 
the " Encyclopaedia Britannica." 

" Tonality, in Music, (Ital. tonalita, Fr. tonalite,) a modern term introduced to designate the existence of differ- 
ences among various musical modes, ancient and modern, and among the elements of melodies and harmonies 
founded upon these modes. See Music, pp. 611, 612, and pp. 61-68 of Appendix to Graham's Essay on Musical 
Composition. Peculiarities of tonality among different nations may be accounted for by particularities in the 
construction of musical instruments, (see Music and Trumpet,) or by particularities in intonation adopted by vocal 
performers, and consecrated by that mighty power, custom, which rules and moulds so many of human feelings, 
opinions, and actions. G. A. Villoteau, a professional musician, appointed by Napoleon to collect musical informa- 
tion in the expedition to Egypt, states that our modern scale of C major was a complete stumbling-block to the 
oriental musicians. He says, ' J'ai eu l'oceasion de m'en convaincre moi-meme en Egypte, en essayant de la faire 
chanter it des musiciens Grecs, Egyptiens ou Arabes, Ethiopiens, Persans, Armemens et Syriens ; et vraiment les 
grimaces et les contortions qu' etoient obliges de faire ces bons gens pour atteindre avec la voix jusqu' a notre 
Si naturel (B natural) qu'ils s'efforcaient cependant, et dela meilleure foi du monde, d'entonner, mais toujours sans 
succes, me paraissaient si singulierement risibles, que je crois qu'il m'auroit fte" impossible de les regarder de sang-froid, 
si le motif qui me determinoit a faire cette experience n'eut occupy alors toute mon attention.' See also his paper on 
the state of music in Egypt, in the great French work, Description de I' Egypte, where he gives a curious account of 
Ins studies under an Arabian musician at Cairo, and the great disagreement between the European and oriental 
tonalities. In the same work he gives some remarkable specimens of oriental music. The establishment of one 
major and one minor scale in Europe may be dated about two centuries ago. Before that time, the system of 
tonality was founded upon the church tones or modes; and the harmony employed consisted of common chords with 
an occasional chord of !>. About the end of the sixteenth, and beginning of the seventeenth centuries, Claudio Mon- 
teverde, a musician of the Venetian school, began to employ a system of harmony different from the old. He used 
the minor 5th, the major 4th, the minor 7th, the 9th, and also even double dissonances, unprepared ; but his appli- 
cation of the chord of s to the dominant of the key, was the most important of his innovations, as it led to the 
abandonment of the old ecclesiastical tonalities and harmonies, and the rapid establishment of the modern European 
tonality and harmony. From Monteverde's discoveries arose di min ished and augmented intervals and chords what 
is called chromatic music, and melodic and harmonic modulation. The majority of modern musicians who have 
attempted to harmonize ancient European melodies, seem to have been ignorant of the marked distinctions between 
ancient and modern tonalities in Europe, and of the fact that most of these airs are constructed upon tonalities to 
which modern harmony, which depends upon a newer system of tonality, cannot be continuously applied. See the 
hssay on Composition above cited, pp. 68, 69. of Appendix." 



APPENDIX. 



165 



" Hey, tuttie tattle." — Pp. 78, 79. 

In a MS. 4to volume, preserved in the British Museum, belonging to the latter part of the fifteenth, or beginning 
of the sixteenth century, and containing ancient English songs for two, three, and four voices, there is an air set 
to the words, " This day, day dawes, this gentill day dawes, and I must home gone." It is written in square and 
lozenge-shaped notes, partly in black and partly in red ink. From the absence of bar-lines, as well as from the 
incorrect mode in which music was noted in that age, it is somewhat difficult to make anything comprehensible 
out of it ; but it is at once quite evident that the air, if air it can be called, bears no resemblance to " Hey, tuttie 
tattie." See Note, p. 79. 



"Alas ! that I cam' o'er the muir." — Pp. 88, 89. 
Although Allan Ramsay's verses to this air are but indifferent, still many may wish to read a song which was 



long popular ; we accordingly insert it here. 
The last time I cam' owre the muir, 

I left my love behind me : 
Ye powers, what pains do I endure 

When soft ideas mind me ! 
Soon as the ruddy morn display'd 

The beaming day ensuing, 
I met betimes my lovely maid, 

In fit retreats for wooing. 

We stray'd beside yon wand'ring stream, 

And talk'd with hearts o'erflowing ; 
Until the sun's last setting beam 

Was in the ocean glowing. 
I pitied all beneath the skies, 

Even kings, when she was nigh me ; 
In raptures I beheld her eyes, 

Which could but ill deny me. 

Should I be call'd where cannons roar, 
Where mortal steel may wound me, 

Or cast upon some foreign shore, 
Where dangers may surround me ; 



Yet hopes again to see my love, 

To feast on glowing kisses, 
Shall make my cares at distance move, 

In prospect of such blisses. 

In all my soul there's not one place 

To let a rival enter : 
Since she excels in ev'ry grace, 

In her my love shall centre. 
Sooner the seas shall cease to flow, 

Their waves the Alps shall cover, 
On Greenland ice shall roses grow, 

Before I cease to love her. 

The neist time I gang ower the muir, 

She shall a lover find me ; 
And that my faith is firm and pure, 

Though I left her behind me ; 
Then Hymen's sacred bonds shall chain 

My heart to her fair bosom ; 
There, while my being does remain, 

My love more fresh shall blossom. 



" Ca' the yowes to the kxowes." — Pp. 94, 95. 

The original verses to this air are said, in several collections of Scottish Songs, to have been written by Isabel, or 
Tibbie Pagan, a strange dissipated creature, who spent most of her days in the neighbourhood of Muirkirk, subsist- 
ing chiefly by retailing whisky without a license. Captain Charles Gray, who has made much research into the sub- 
ject of Scottish songs, and their writers, is of opinion that this is altogether incorrect. He writes to us as follows : — 
" It will be seen from Mr. Stenhouse's Note upon this song, (Museum, vol. iii. p. 284,) that, saving the chorus, 
it was originally a very meagre affair. Burns admits to Mr. G. Thomson, that he added some stanzas, and mended 
others. It is evident from this, that, as the song was floating about Ayrshire in 1 787, Tibbie may have picked it up, 
and, being a good singer, appropriated it as her own ; but nothing of hers that has appeared in print warrants us 
in believing that the ' auld rudas' ever wrote anything half so good as either this song or ' The crook and plaid, 
which has been attributed to her." 

The following are the best verses of the song, sent by Burns to Johnson, for his Museum : — 

Ca' the yowes to the knowes, 
Ca' them whare the heather grows, 
Ca' them whare the burnie rows, 
My bonnio dearie. 

Will ye gang down the water side, While waters wimple to the sea, 

And see the waves sae sweetly glide While day blinks in the lift sae high; 

\ Beneath the hazels spreading wide, Till clay-cauld death shall blin' my e'e, 
The moon it shines fu' clearly. Ye aye shall be my dearie. 

Ca' the yowes, &c. Ca' the yowes, &c. 



166 



APPENDIX. 



" Tweedsede."— Pp. 104, 105. 

The high praise which has been bestowed, by various persons, upon the pastoral written for this air by Robert 
Crawford of Drumsoy, and which we give below, caused us hesitate not a little before displacing it from the text. Our 
estimate of the song was, that it had been much overrated — that it was stiff in versification, and affected in senti- 
ment. Finding that this opinion of its merits was shared by many poets, as well as good judges of poetry, we 
induced a friend, who wishes to remain anonymous, to write the song which we have adapted to the air, and which 
will be found to possess much of the simplicity as well as the language of the olden time. 

We may here remark, that in our opinion, there are many of our best old airs, such as " The yellow-haired 
laddie," " Peggy, I must love thee," " The boatman," " Allan Water," &c, still unsuited with words. The excel- 
lence of Burns has made us fastidious ; songs which in his day were highly lauded, now remind us of " men in 
buckram," or at best of Watteau's fine ladies and gentlemen playing at shepherds and shepherdesses. Their style 
is tame — their phraseology affected — and their sentiments, as they do not come from the heart, so they do not reach 
it. In looking over the lyrics of cotemporaries, we regret to see that many of their happiest efforts are never likely 
to be heard united to music ; as, from an unfortunate oversight, they have been written to airs which Burns or 
others have already made their own. We would offer this advice to aspirants for lyrical honours, to be more 
cautious in the selection of their airs ; and instead of vainly attempting to cope with Burns, and to dispossess him 
of what the world allows to be his own undisputed property, to remember that the " better part of valour is discre- 
tion ;" and that they are much more likely to hear their verses sung, if they prudently make choice of melodies still 
" unwedded to immortal verse." 



What beauties does Flora disclose ! 

How sweet are her smiles upon Tweed ! 
Yet Mary's still sweeter than those, 

Both nature and fancy exceed. 
No daisy, nor sweet blushing rose, 

Not all the gay flowers of the field, 
Not Tweed, gliding gently through those, 

Such beauty and pleasure does yield. 

The warblers are heard in the grove, 

The linnet, the lark, and the thrush ; 
The blackbird, and sweet cooing dove, 

With music enchant eVry bush. 
Come, let us go forth to the mead ; 

Let us see how the primroses spring ; 
We'll lodge on some village on Tweed, 

And love while the feather 'd folk sing. 



How does my love pass the long day ? 

Does Mary not tend a few sheep ? 
Do they never carelessly stray 

While happily she lies asleep ? 
Should Tweed's murmurs lull her to rest, 

Kin d nature indulging my bliss, 
To ease the soft pains of my breast, 

I'd steal an ambrosial kiss. 

'Tis she does the virgins excel ; 

No beauty with her may compare ; 
Love's graces around her do dwell ; 
■ She's fairest where thousands are fair. 
Say, charmer, where do thy flocks stray ? 

Oh, tell me at morn where they feed ? 
Shall I seek them on sweet-winding Tay ? 

Or the pleasanter banks of the Tweed ? 



" I lo'e na a laddie but ake." — Pp. 130, 131. 

We have given in the text the version of this song as it is now sung. Two of the stanzas, the first and the fourth, 
have been altered. We subjoin the lines as they originally stood : — 



He coft me a rokelay o' blue, 
And a pair o' mittens o' green ; 

The price was a kiss o' my mou'; 
And I paid him the debt yestreen. 



Ye warldlings, gae hoard up your store, 
And tremble for fear ought ye tyne ; 

Guard your treasures wi' lock, bar, and door, 
While thus in my arms I lock mine. 



" Saw ye Johnnie comes'." — Pp. 132, 133. 

We are aware that this song of the olden time has long been looked upon as belonging to the humorous class, 
and has been sung as such by the popular singers of the day. We confess, however, that we have never viewed 
it in tliis light. Manners and customs have changed since the time the song was written ; maidens may have be- 
come more reserved ; duplicity, in some instances, may have taken the place of rustic simplicity, but human nature re- 
mains the same. It appeal's to us that the intense love of the unsophisticated maiden for her Johnnie overcomes all 
her scruples, and the way in which she pleads with her thrifty father to fee him, has, to our minds, nothing offensive 

or indelicate in it. On the contrary, when she urges the good qualities of her lover his being " a gallant lad, and 

a weel doin' " — as a reason that her hesitating father should not stand " upon a merk o' mair fee," nothing can be 



APPENDIX. 



167 



more natural. But when she throws the weight of her fond affection into the scale, no wonder that it turns the 
balance in her favour, for what father could refuse such an appeal made to him by a loving daughter 1 

" For a' the work about the house, 
Gaes wi' me when I see him." 
Surely there is nothing comic in this. It is one of those simple and happy touches, so true to nature, that it could 
only be thrown off by the pen cf a poet. 

Although the composer of the fine old melody to this song might not have been fully aware of the deep pathos 
which he had infused into it, yet he never could have so far mistaken his own intention, as to suppose that he 
had written a lirely air. This discovery was left to the singers who came after him. 



" The weary fund o' tow." — Pp. 140, 141. 

We have printed in the test the oldest and the best melody to this song ; another version has crept in of late years, 
which we give below, although we consider it much inferior to the original : — 



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In the fourth stanza of this sow. 



" For a' that, and a' that." — Pp. 152, 153. 

the first four lines are — ■ 
" A prince can mak' a belted knight, 
A marquis, duke, and a' that ; 
But an honest man's aboon his might, 
Guid faith, he maunna fa' that." 



The meaning of the expression, " he maunna fa' that," is obscure. Jamieson's Dictionary does not explain the 
phrase, though the line is given. In common glossaries to Burns, the word "fa' " is explained by fall, lot. Neither 
of these would make sense in Burns' line. Try, attempt, venture, is evidently the only satisfactory meaning of " fa' " 
in that place. The expression occurs long before Burns' poetizing days, in the old song beginning, " Tho' Geordie 
reigns in Jamie's stead." See the second volume of Ritson's " Scottish Songs," page 104. 

" The whigs think a' that weal is won, 
But faith they ma' na' fa' that ;" 
or, as Hogg, in the second series of his Jacobite Relics, page 56, gives it, " maunna fa' that." Here the phrase is 
equally obscure as in Burns' song ; but the meaning seems to be, " they must not venture to believe that." 



" Johnnie Cope." — Pp. 154, 155. 

The memorable battle of Preston was fought, near the village of the same name in Haddingtonshire, at daybreak 
^n the 21st September 1745. While the ground was covered with a thick frosty mist, which had come up from the 
sea on the evening of the 20th, the Chevalier's troops left their position, and, guided by a gentleman who knew the 
ground, marched silently and undiscovered, until they reached the eastern extremity of the extensive plain, at the 
west end of wliich the King's forces were stationed. The object of this night-march was to enable the Highlanders 
to attack, on a fair field, the EngEsh troops under Sir John Cope, and to avoid the dangerous disadvantage of 
having to make their way, exposed to the enemy's fire, directly across a morass which had separated the two armies. 
The mist still concealed the Highlanders ; but the sound of their march being heard, an alarm-gun was fired as a 
signal for Cope's army to prepare for action. 

When the Highlanders were ready to charge, " the whole front line moved forward, and, as they did so, the sun 
broke out, and the mist rose from the ground like the curtain of a theatre. It showed to the Highlanders the line 
of regular troops drawn up in glittering array, like a complete hedge of steel, and at the same time displayed to 



168 



APPENDIX. 



Cope's soldiers the furious torrent, which, subdivided into such a number of columns, or rather small masses, 
advanced with a cry which gradually swelled into a hideous yell, and became intermingled with an irregular but 
well-directed fire — the mountaineers presenting their pieces as they ran, dropping them when discharged, and 
rushing on to close conflict, sword in hand. The events of the preceding night had created among the regulars an 
apprehension of their opponents, not usual to English soldiers. General Cope's tactics displayed a fear of the enemy 
rather than a desire to engage him ; and now this dreaded foe, having selected his own point of advantage, was 
coming down on them in all his terrors, with a mode of attack unusually furious, and unknown to modern war." 
In a few minutes, the King's troops, panic-stricken, were scattered in every direction. The rout was complete, 
notwithstanding the exertions and the determined bravery of Colonel Whitefoord, Colonel Gardiner, and some other 
officers. Sir John Cope, with the remains of the dragoons, fled to Berwick, where he was received by Lord Mark 
Ker with the well-known sarcasm, " That he believed he was the first General in Europe who had brought the first 
tidings of his own defeat." See Sir Walter Scott's History of Scotland, and Mr. Robert Chambers' History of the 
Rebellion of 1745-6. 

The original song to this air was written by Adam Skirving, farmer of Garleton, near Haddington ; " who, be- 
sides his gift at song-making, which was considerable, was one of the wittiest and most whimsical of mankind." 
It is a universal favourite in Scotland, and no song, perhaps, has so many variations ; Allan Cunningham mentions, 
that he once heard a peasant boast, among other acquirements, that he could sing " Johnnie Cope," with all the 
nineteen variations. As none of these amended versions possess greater poetical merit than the original, we 
prefer giving the latter intact. 



Cope sent a challenge frae Dunbar, 
Charlie meet me an' ye daur, 
And I'll learn you the art o' war, 
If you'll meet wi' me in the morning. 

Hey ! Johnnie Cope, are ye waukin' yet ? 

Or are your drums a-beatin' yet ? 

If ye were waukin' T wad wait, 

To gang to the coals i' the morning. 

When Charlie looked the letter upon, 
He drew his sword the scabbard from, 
Come follow me, my merry men, 
And we'll meet Johnnie Cope i' the morning. 
Hey ! Johnnie Cope, &c. 

Now, Johnnie, be as good as your word, 
Come let us try baith fire and sword, 
And dinna flee like a frighted bird 
That's chased frae its nest i' the morning. 
Hey ! Johnnie Cope, &c. 

When Johnnie Cope he heard of this, 
He thought it wadna be amiss 
To hae a horse in readiness, 
To flee awa i' the morning. 
Hey ! Johnnie Cope, &c. 



Fye now, Johnnie, get up and rin, 
The Highland bagpipes mak' a din; 
It's best to sleep in a hale skin, 
For 'twill be a bluidie morning. 
Hey ! Johnnie Cope, &c. 

When Johnnie Cope to Dunbar came, 
They speir'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 were na blate, 
To come wi' the news o' your ain defeat, 
And leave your men in sic a strait, 
So early in the morning. 
Hey ! Johnnie, &c. 

In faith, quo' Johnnie, I got sic flegs 
Wi' then- claymores and filabegs, 
Lf I face them deil break my legs, 
So I wish you a' good morning. 

Hey ! Johnnie Cope, are ye waukin' yet ? 

Or are your drums a-beatin' yet? 

If ye were waukin' I wad wait, 

To gang to the coals i' the morning. 



"Why should I, a brisk young lassie." — Pp. 156, 157. 

In a Note upon No. 589 of Johnson's Museum, "There's news lasses, news!" Mr. Stenhouse says: — "This 
humorous song was retouched by Burns from a very ancient one, called, ' I winna gang to my bed until I get 
a man.' It is adapted to the lively old original air, which may be considered one of the earliest specimens of 
Scottish Reels. It appears in Skene's MSS., circa 1570, under the title of, ' / winna gang to my bed till 1 sud die.' " 
In the first place, we must observe, that the title of No. 48 of the Skene MS. airs, published by Mr. William Dauney, 
is, " I will not goe to my bed till I suld die ; " and, in the second place, that Mr. Stenhouse's assertion, that this 
ah-, hi the Skene MS., is the same as the air No. 589 of Johnson's Museum, affords a complete and very astounding 
proof of Mr. Stenhouse's total ignorance of the tablature and the airs of the Skene MS. The two airs are utterly 
dissimilar in measure and in melody. It is much to be regretted that a man of Mr. Stenhouse's industry and 
ability should have been seduced into a pretension to knowledge of matters of which he was quite ignorant. 



END OF THE FIEST VOLUME. 



ED1SBUEOU : PRINTED BY T. CONSTABLE. TRINTEK TO UKR MAJESTY. 



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