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s^mfifxzir m/ nrf.v* 




rprfctr to tbcir Spptopfblt fWelobies. 

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John Menzies, Edinburgh; and Houlston & Wright, London 



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k'?* : £i;'M 


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. 

- VV V 






Digitized by the Internet Archive 

in 2011 with funding from 

National Library of Scotland 






Illustrate foitjj Historical, biographical, anb Critical Notices 







Ae fond kiss, and then we sever. 

Accuse me not, inconstant fair, 

Adieu, Dundee ! from Mary parted. 

Afton Water, . .. . 

Again rejoicing Nature sees, 

A Highland lad my love was born 

Aiken Drum, 

Alastair Macalastair, 

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

Alloa House, 

And are ye sure the news is true? 

Andro and his cutty gun, 

And for ane-and-twenty, Tarn ! 

And were a : noddin'. nid, nid, noddin', 

And ye shall walk in silk attire. ■ 

Annie Laurie, .... 

An thou wert mine ain thing, 

Argyle is my name, and you may think it 

A rosebud by my early walk, 
At gloamin', if my lane I be, 
At Polwart on the green, 
At Willie's wedding on the green 
Auld lang syne, 
Auld Rob Morris, 
Auld Eobin Gray, (Scotch Air,) 
Auld Robin Gray, (English Air,) 
A wee bird cam' to our ha' door, 
Ay wakin' ! 

Baloo, my boy, lie still and sleep, 
Bannocks o' barley-meal, 
Bannocks o' bear-meal, 

Barbara Allan, 

Behind yon hills, where Lugar flows, 
Behold, my love, how green the groves, 
Beneath a green shade a lovely young swain 
Bessie Bell and Mary Gray, 
Bide ye yet, ...... 

Blink o'er the burn, sweet Betty, . 
Blue bonnets, 




Blythe, blythe, and merry are we, 



Blythsome may I see thee, 



Bonnie Dundee, ...'.. 



Bonnie Jean, 



Bonnie laddie, Highland laddie, 



Bonnie lassie, will ye go ? 



Bonnie Prince Charlie, 



■ Bonnie wee thing, . . . . 



Braw, braw lads, . 



Busk ye, busk ye, . . . . 



By Logan's streams, that rin sae deep, . 



By yon castle wa', at the close o' the da. 

7, . 205 



Cam' ye by Athol ? 



Carle, an the king come, 



Ca' the yowes to the knowes, 



Cauld blaws the wind frae north to sout 

h, . 166 

Cauld kail in Aberdeen, 



Charlie is my darling, . 



Clunie's reel, 



Come all ye jolly shepherds, 



Come, gi'e's a sang, Montgomery cried, 



Come o'er the stream, Charlie, 



Come under my plaidie, 



Comin' thro' the Craigs o' Kyle, . 



Comin' thro' the rye 



Corn rigs, 



Craigie- burn- wood 



Crochallan, ...... 


Cromlet's lilt, 




Dinna think, bonnie lassie, . 






Donald and Flora, . 



Donald Caird's come again ! . 



Doun the burn, Davie, . 



Dumbarton's Drums, . 





Duncan Gray cam' here to woo, . 


Fair Helen of Kirkconnel, 



Fair Janet, 







Fair Scotland ! dear as life to me, 

Farewell, thou fair day, 

Farewell, thou stream that winding flows, 

Farewell to Lochaber, farewell to my Jean, 

Farewell, winding stream, flowing on to the sea, 161 

Far over yon hills o' the heather so green, . 223 

First when Maggie was my care, ... 94 

Flora Maedonald 223 

Flow gently, sweet Afton, .... 103 

For a' that, and a' that, .... 76 

For lack of gold, 73 

For the sake o' somebody, .... 104 

From wand'ring long on foreign shore, . 175 

Fy, gar rub her o'er wi' strae, . . . 192 

Gala water 25 

Get up and bar the door 110 

Gilderoy, 101 

Gin a body meet a body, .... 83 

Gin I had a wee house, .... 7 

Gin livin' worth could win my heart, . . 81 

Gloomy winter's now awa', .... 3 

Good night, and joy be wi' ye a', . . . 240 

Green grow the rashes, O ! . . . . 15 

Gu ma slan a chi mi, 193 

Hame, hame, hame, O hame fain would I be, 177 

Happy's the love that meets return, . . 206 

Hear me, ye nymphs, 9 

Here awa', there awa', wandering Willie, . 33 

Here's a health to ane I lo'e dear, . . 67 

Here's to the year that's awa', . . . 194 

He's o'er the hills that I lo'e weel, . . 114 

Highland Mary, ...... 97 

Hey, tuttie, tattie, 39, 40 

How lang and dreary is the nicht, . . 154 

How sweet this lone vale, .... 13 

Hughie Graham, 100 

I dream'd I lay where flow'rs were springing, 153 

If those who live in shepherd's bow'rs, . 151 

I had a horse, and I had nae mair, . . 53 

I ha'e laid a herrin' in saut, .... 139 

I'll bid my heart be still, .... 197 

I'll never leave thee, 129 

I lo'e na a laddie but ane, .... 65 

I love my love in secret, . ... . 225 

I love thee still, although my path, . . 157 

I'm a' doun for lack o' Johnnie, . . . 147 

I met four chaps yon birks amang, . . 102 

I'm o'er young to marry yet, . . . 152 

I'm wearin' awa', Jean, .... 39 

In the garb of old Gaul, .... 211 

In winter, when the rain rain'd cauld, . . 22 

I sigh and lament me in vain, 

Is there, for honest poverty, . 

It fell about the Mart'mas time, 

It fell on a day, .... 

It's up wi' the souters o' Selkirk, . 

It was in and about the Mart'mas time, 

It was upon a Lammas night, 

I've heard them lilting, 

I've seen the smiling, . 

I will away, and I will not tarry, . 

I wish I war where Eelin lies, 

I wish my love were in a myre, 

Jennie's bawbee, .... 
Jennie dang the weaver, 
Jessie, the flower o' Dunblane, 
Jock o' Hazeldean, 
John Anderson, my jo, . 
John of Badenyon, 
Johnnie Cope, .... 
Johnnie Faa, .... 

Johnnie M'Gill, .... 
Johnnie's grey breeks, . 

Katherine Ogie, .... 

Keen blaws the wind o'er Donocht-head ; 

Kelvin grove, .... 

Kenmure's on and awa', 

Kind Robin lo'es me, 

Kinloch of Kinloch, . . • . 

Laddie, lie near me, 

Lady Anne Bothwell's lament, 

Lassie wi' the lint-white locks, 

Last May a braw wooer cam' down the Ian 


Leader haughs and Yarrow, 

Leezie Lindsay, .... 

Let us haste to Kelvin grove, bonnie lassie, O 

Lewie Gordon, .... 

Lochaber no more, 

Loch-Eroch side, .... 

Logan water, .... 

Logie o' Buchan, .... 

Lord Balgonie's favourite, 

Lord Gregory, .... 

Lord Nithsdale, .... 

Lord Ronald, .... 

Loudon's bonnie woods and braes, 

Lucy's flittin', .... 

Maclean's Welcome, 

Maggie Lauder, .... 

March, march, Ettrick and Teviotdale, 


Marquis of Hasting's strathspey, . . . 122 

Mary Macneil, 141 

Mary Morison, 82 

Mary Scott, 206 

Mary's dream, (modern air,) . . . 106 

Mary's dream, (old air,) . . . . 105 

Maxwellton braes are bonnie, . . . 167 

Bliss Forbes' farewell to Banff, .. . . 180 

Morag, 23 

Mount and go, 222 

Muirland Willie 128 

My ain fireside, 124 

My ain kind dearie, 71 

My apron dearie, 155 

My boy, Tammie, 30 

My heart is sair, I daurna tell, . . . 104 
My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not 

here, 212 

My jo Janet, 145 

My love has forsaken me 95 

My love is lost to me 217 

My love she's but a lassie yet, ... 58 

My love's in Germany, 14 

My mither's ay glowrin' ower me, . . 209 

My Nannie, O! 17 

My Nannie's awa', 112 

My only jo and dearie, O, . . . . 148 

My Peggie is a young thing, . . . 160 

My Peggie's face, my Peggie's form, . . 140 

My sheep I neglected, I broke my sheep-hook, 155 

My tocher's the jewel, .... 12 

My wife has ta'en the gee 184 

My wife's a winsome wee thing, . . . 203 

Nae gentle dames, though e'er so fair, . . 159 

Nancy's to the greenwood gane, . . . 162 

Nid noddin', 174 

Now bank and brae are clad in green, . . 139 

Now in her green mantle blythe Nature arrays, 112 

Oh, Alastair Macalastair, .... 34 

O, Bessie Bell, and Mary Gray, . . . 127 

bonnie was yon rosy brier, . . 187 

Charlie is my darling, .... 45 

Oh ! dinna ask me gin I lo'e thee, ... 83 

dinna think, bonnie lassie, . . . 158 

Och, hey ! Johnnie, lad, .... 164 

O'er the muir amang the heather, . . 170 

. Of a' the airts the wind can blaw, . . 43 

gin I were where Gadie rins, . . . 234 

gin my love were yon red rose, . . . 239 

gin ye were dead, gudeman, . . . 221 

[0] hearken, and I will tell you how, . . 128 

Oh, I ha'e been on the flow'ry banks o' Clyde, 132 


I ha'e seen great anes, and sat in great ha's, 124 

Kenmure's on and awa', Willie, . . . 215 

lassie, art thou sleepin' yet ? . . . 89 

lay thy loof in mine, lass, .... 137 

leave me not ! the ev'ning hour, . . 225 

let me in this ae night, .... 89 

Logie o' Buchan, Logie the laird, . . 41 

love will venture in, 56 

Mary, at thy window be, ... . 82 

meikle thinks my love o' my beauty, . 12 

mirk, mirk, is this midnight hour, . . 27 

mount and go, 222 

my love is like a red red rose, ... 92 

On a bank of flowers 165 

Nancy, wilt thou go with me? . . . 185 

On Cessnock banks 228 

On Ettrick banks, ae simmer nicht, . . 181 

open the door, Lord Gregory, ... 27 

puirtith cauld, 53 

raging fortune's with'ring blast, . . 237 

Oran an aoig, 68 

Sandy, why leaves thou thy Nelly to mourn ! 183 

send Lewie Gordon hame, ... 20 

speed, Lord Nithsdale 231 

O sweet are thy banks, bonnie Tweed, . . 52 

the ewe-bughting's bonnie, . . . 202 

this is no my ain lassie, .... 54 

Oh ! thou art all so tender, .... 95 

thou broom, thou bonnie bush o' broom ! . 28 

true love is a bonnie flower, ... 16 

0, wae's my heart ! 131 

waly, waly up the bank, .... 50 

weel may the boatie row, . . . . 156 

were I on Parnassus hill, .... 217 

wha is she that lo'es me, .... 23 

wha's at the window, wha, wha ? . . 109 

where ha'e ye been, Lord Ronald, my son ? 116 

whistle, an' I'll come to you, rny lad, . 18 

Oh! why left I my hame? .... 6 

why should old age, 189 

Willie brew'd a peck o' maut, . . . 119 

Peggie, I must love thee, .... 91 

Peggie, now the king's come, . . . 200 

Pibroch of Donuil Dhu, .... 48 

Pinkie House, 199 

Polwart on the green 214 

Queen Mary's farewell to Alloa, . . . 161 

Queen Mary's lament, 108 

Red, red is the path to glory, . . . 226 

Rising o'er the heaving billow, . . . 149 

Robin is my only jo, 6 



Romantic Esk ! what sweets combine, 
Rory Dall's Port, .... 
Roslin Castle, .... 
Rothes' lament, .... 
Rothiemurchus' rant, 
Row weel, my boatie, row weel, . 
Roy's wife of Aldivalloch, 

Saw ye Johnnie comin' ? 

Saw ye my father ? . . . 

Saw ye my Maggie ? . . . 

Saw ye my wee thing ? saw ye mine ain thing 

Saw ye nae my Peggie ? 

Scots, wha ha'e wi' Wallace bled, . 

See spring her graces wild disclose, 

Send him hame, .... 

She rose and let me in, . 

She's fair and fause that causes my smart, 

Should auld acquaintance be forgot, 

Since all thy vows, false maid, 

Sour plums in Galashiels, 

Strike up the bagpipe's boldest blast, 

Stu mo rilu, ..... 

Sweet fa's the eve on Craigie-burn, 

Sweet Sir, for your courtesie, 

Tak' your auld cloak about ye, 

Tarn Lin, 

The auld wife ayont the fire, 

The battle of Preston, . 

The birks of Aberfeldie, 

The birks of Invermay, 

The blairin' trumpet sounded far, 

The blude red rose at Yule may blaw, 

The blue bells of Scotland, . 

The boatie rows, . 

The bonnie blink o' Mary's e'e, 

The bonnie brier bush, . 

The bonnie house o' Airly, 

The braes aboon Bonaw, 

The braes o' Balquhidder, 

The braes of Ballenden, 

The braes o' Yarrow, . 

The bridegroom grat, . 

The bride she cam' out o' the byre, 

The brisk young lad, 

The broom o' the Cowdenknowes, 

The bush aboon Traquair, 

The Campbell's are comin', . 

The captain's lady, 

The cardin' o't, 

The cauld cauld winter's gane, luve, 

The day I first landed, . 

The day returns, my bosom burns, 



The deuks dang o'er my daddie, . 


The dream, 


The e'enin' sun was glintin' bricht, 


The ewe-bughts, 


The ewie wi' the crookit horn, 


The faded bower, 


The Flowers of the Forest, (old air,) 

The Flowers of the Forest, (modern air,) 


The gloomy night is gath'ring fast, 


The gypsie laddie, 


The happy shepherd, 


The hills of my Highlands, . 


The homeless heart, 


The Island of Mull, 




The laird o' Cockpen, . 


The lament of Flora Macdonald, 


The land o' the leal, 


The lass o' Ballochmyle, 


The lass of Cessnock-banks, . 

. 79 

The lass o' Gowrie, 


The lass of Patie's mill, 


The last gleam o' sunset in ocean was sinking 


The last, the dreaded hour is come, 


The last time I cam' o'er the muir, 

The Lawland lads think they are fine, . 


The lea rig, . . . . . 


The lily of the vale is sweet, .... 


The lone vale, . . . . 


The Lothian lassie, 


The love that I had chosen, .... 


The lowlands o' Holland, .... 


The maid of Islay, 


The maids of Arrochar, .... 


The mill, mill, O 


The moon had climbed the highest hill, 


The moudiewart, 


The murmur of the merry brook, . 


The new Highland laddie, .... 


The news frae Moidart cam' yestreen, . 


The night is dark, the way is long, 


The pearl of the fountain, the rose of the valle 


The pibroch of Donuil Dhu, .... 


The posie, 


The seventh of November, .... 


The shepherd's wife, 


The smiling Spring comes in rejoicing, 


The soldier's return, 


The song of death, 


The souter's daughter, 


The souters o' Selkirk, .... 


The strong walls of Derry, .... 


The sun has gane down o'er the lofty Ben- 







The waefu' heart, 81 

The wauking o' the fauld, .... 160 

The weary pund o' tow, .... 70 

The wee wee man, 187 

The white cockade, 32 

The winter it is past, 69 

The year that's awa', ..... 194 

The yellow-hair'd laddie, . ... 202 

There cam' a young man to my daddie's door, 31 

There grows a bonnie brier bush, ... 74 

There was a lad was born in Kyle, . . 221 

There was a lass, and she was fair, . . 178 

There was a pretty May, .... 55 

There'll never be peace till Jamie comes hame, 205 

There's a rose in Kenmure's cap, Willie, . 215 

There's auld Rob Morris, .... 63 

There's cauld kail in Aberdeen, . . . 154 

There's few gude fellows when Jamie's awa', 205 

There's nae luck about the house, . . Ill 

There's nought but care on ev'ry han', . . 15 

This is no my ain house, .... 54 

This night is my departing night, . . . 240 

Thou art gane awa' frae me, Mary ! . . 38 

Thou bonnie wood of Craigie-lca, . . . 218 

Thou dark winding Carron, .... 236 

Thou hast left me ever, Jamie, . 66 

Though a' the leaves o' my bonnie bower, . 7!) 

Thro' the wood, laddie 183 

Thy cheek is o' the rose's hue, . . . 148 

To daunton me, . .... 220 

Tullochgorum, . ..... 26 

'Twas ev'n, the dewy fields were green, . 173 

'Twas in the season 8 

'Twas na her bonnie blue e'e was my ruin, . 201 

'Twas on a simmer's afternoon, . . . 146 

'Twas when the wan leaf, .... 176 

'Twas within a mile of Edinburgh town, . 163 

Tweedside 62 

Twine weel the plaiden, . . . . 16 

Up in the morning early, .... 166 

Wae's me for Prince Charlie, ... 57 

Wandering Willie, 33 

Welcome Royal Charlie, .... 107 

We'll meet beside the dusky glen, . . 75 

We're a' noddin', 174 

Were I but able to rehearse, . . . . 142 

Wha'll be king but Charlie? . ... 69 

Whar' ha'e ye been a' day ? . 30 

Wha's at the window, wha, wha? . . . 109 

What ails this heart o' mine? ... 99 

What's a' the steer, kimmer ? . . . 190 
Wha wadna be in love wi' bonnie Maggie 

Lauder, . . . . . . . 134 

Wha wadna fight for Charlie? ... 85 
When first I came to be a man of twenty 

years, or so, . . . . . . 90 

When first you courted me, I own, . . 157 

When lang sin-syne I married, . . . 168 

When merry hearts were gay, . . . 213_ 

When o'er the hill the eastern star, . . 71 

When Phoebus bright the azure skies, . . 232 

When she cam' ben, she bobbed, ... 21 

When the kye comes hame, .... 196 

When the sheep are in the fauld, ... 10 

When the sun o'er Kelly-law, ... 3 

When wild war's deadly blast, ... 62 

Where are the joys I have met in the morning? 51 

Where ha'e ye been a' the day ? . . . 204 

Whistle o'er the lave o't 94 

Why should I, a brisk young lassie? . . 78 

Why should thy cheek be pale? . . . 129 

Why weep ye by the tide, ladye? . . . 113 

Willie brew'd a peek o' maut, . . . 119 

Willie was a wanton wag, . . . . 178 

Will ye gang to the Hielands, Leezie Lindsay ? 120 
Will ye go, lassie, go, to the braes o' Bal- 

quhidder? 66 

Will ye go to the ewe-bughts, Marion ? . . 60 

Wilt thou be my dearie? .... 49 

Wilt thou go, my bonnie lassie ? . . . 130 

Within a mile of Edinburgh, . . . 163 

Wo betyd thy wearie bodie, .... 4 

Woo'd and married and a', . . . . 219 

Ye banks, and braes, and streams around, . 97 

Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon, . . 80 

Ye maun gang to your father, Janet, . . 46 

Yon burn-side, 75 

Young Jamie lo'ed me weel, . . . . 11 

Young Peggie blooms our bonniest lass, . 9J 


The great success of " The Songs of Scotland," published in Three Volumes by Messrs. 
Wood and Co., has led to the present work in One Volume, containing all the Songs and Airs 
that were given in those three volumes, with the addition of several popular Airs and Songs not 
included in that Collection, and two new Songs written for this volume by Mr. A. M. M'Laren. 
In the three volumes above mentioned, the airs were arranged for the voice and pianoforte, with 
copious Notes relative to the songs and melodies. In this volume, the airs are given with the 
words, but without a pianoforte accompaniment ; and the footnotes are, with some few necessary 
alterations, the same as those appended to the text of the Collection in three volumes. The 
Editor has to acknowledge the careful labours of an able professional musician, Mr. J. T. 
Surenne, in the minute revision of the whole of the airs as they appeared in the proof-sheets 
of this volume. It is right to state this, because Mr. Surenne's name does not appear on the 
title-page as editor of the airs, it being thought inexpedient that the names of two editors 
should be printed there. The Messrs. Wood have been induced to publish this volume from 
a consideration of the fact, that a great many persons who can sing may be desirous to pos- 
sess the airs and words in the compass of one volume, and separate from an instrumental accom- 
paniment necessitating, in most cases, the concurrence of a singer and an instrumentalist. 
Thousands of Scottish men and women, at home and abroad, who love the lays of their native 
land, neither possess a pianoforte nor know how to play upon it, but can read printed music and 
sing from the book. For some years past the cultivation of vocal music in Scotland has been 
much promoted by the improvements introduced in Church Psalmody ; and in this way a prac- 
tical knowledge of vocal music is rapidly extending through the whole country. Forty years 
ago, not one in a hundred among the operative classes could read music. A new impulse and 
better methods of teaching, are now enabling a majority of all classes not only to sing popular 
airs from the book, but to join in Part-music, ecclesiastical or secular. The Scottish clergy, of 
all denominations, seem to unite heartily in promoting a practical knowledge of vocal music. 

In the last century, several collections of airs — Scottish, English, Irish, Welsh, &c. — 
with words, but without any accompaniments, were published in England and Scotland, in the 
shape of pocket volumes. These were generally printed on coarse paper, with clumsy types, 
and with little attention to neatness or accuracy. The present work, from the press of Mr. 
Constable, contrasts strikingly with those old volumes, by showing the great improvement of 
music-type and other type-printing, even within the present century. 

In the present Work, as in the three volumes of the " Songs of Scotland," we have had 
occasion to allude to Irish and English airs that had been introduced among our really Scottish 
national melodies ; and, in every instance, we endeavoured to do justice to the true claims of 
England and Ireland. The appropriation by one country of melodies truly belonging to another, 
is no new thing in the history of music ; and, at the present day, it would be impossible to settle 


all the conflicting claims regarding national airs. As an instance of untenable claims, an 
English composer published, some years ago, an air as his own which became very popular ; 
but the air was proved to be an old Italian melody, and the composer was compelled to alter the 
title-page of his song accordingly. If Irish or English airs have been formerly introduced into 
collections of Scottish music without due acknowledgment, in the " Songs of Scotland," pub- 
lished by the Messrs. Wood, the misappropriation has been always freely acknowledged. We 
regret to find that some Irish writers, not contented to claim their own unquestioned Irish airs, 
and to abuse the people of Scotland for stealing them, go so far as to claim for Ireland certain 
airs long considered as Scottish, and to which Ireland produces no better claim than mere asser- 
tion. For instance, Mr. Bunting, in his third collection of Irish Melodies, p. 95, is disposed to 
claim the air "Will ye go to the ewe-bughts, Marion?" as Irish; and refers to the air called 
" Sligo Tune," at page 86 of the plates — an air which has no resemblance at all to the Scottish 
air in question. Mr. Hardiman, 1 also, besides accusations of other Scottish thefts from Ireland, 
accuses the Scots of having stolen the air of " Maggie Lauder" from the Irish. He gives the 
song in the original Irish, with a translation in verse by Thomas Furlong, (pages 154-163, 
vol. i.,) and at page 175, et seq., a note, "of which we here quote a portion : — 

" Maqqt Laidlr. This inimitable description of an Irish feast, was written, in the seventeenth century, by 
John O'Neachtan, author of several poetical compositions in his native language, and is now printed from a tran- 
script made in the year 1706. It is supposed to be delivered by the chairman, or president of the meeting; and 
of such a personage the reader may be enabled to form a tolerable idea, from a curious account of an individual 
of the ancient family of O'Leary, given by Mr. Townsend, author of the ' Statistical Survey of the County of 
Cork.' O'Leary long lived and lately died at Millstreet, a small town in the county of Cork, and he took a pride 
in being one of the last of his countrymen representing old families, who maintained the ancient hospitable way 
of living. ' He was known,' writes Mr. Townsend, ' only by the name of O'Leary. He lived in a small house, 
the lower part consisting of little more than a parlour and kitchen, the former of which, properly supplied with 
every article of good cheer, was open to every guest, and at every season ; and, what will more surprise, this 
profusion was accompanied with perfect cleanliness and decorum. His cellar, well stocked with good liquors, 
never knew the protection of a lock and key ; for, as he said himself, nobody had any occasion to steal what any 
one might have for asking. It derived security, however, from other causes ; from deference to his sway and 
respect for his person, both of which were universally felt and acknowledged within the circle of his influence. 
He was also a Justice of Peace for the county. The appearance of O'Leary was always sufficient to maintain 
order in fairs and meetings, and to suppress any spirit of disturbance, without the aid of soldier or constable. 
He possessed, indeed, some admirable requisites for a maintainor of the peace ; for he was a very athletic man, 
and always carried a long pole, of which the unruly knew him to be no churl. To these good qualities, O'Leary 
added an inexhaustible fund of original humour and good-natured cheerfulness ; and being very fond of the bottle 
himself, it was impossible to be long in his company sad or sober.' In many respects, O'Leary may be fairly 
taken as a genuine representative of the chairman of our Irish feast. 

" In point of composition, Maggy Laidir is superior to O'Rourke's Feast, so humorously translated by Dean 
Swift. Here the chairmain only speaks throughout. His first toast is Old Ireland, under the name of Maggy 
Laidir ; then the beauteous daughters of Erin ; the ancient families of the four provinces, Leinster, Munster, 
Ulster, Connaught : the clergy, who have been always dear to the Irish ; and, finally, he wishes disappointment 
to the foes, and success to the friends of the country. After these libations he becomes a little gay, and must 
have music. He calls on the harpers to strike up. As the glass circulates, conversation and noise increase. 
Finally, a quarrel, more Thracum, ensues, which our elevated chairman, in the true Irish style of commanding 
peace, orders to be quelled by knocking down the combatants, and he concludes by alluding to his noble ancestry 
and kindred, to enforce his claim to respect and obedience. 

" The air as well as the words of Maggy Laidir, though long naturalized in North Britain, is Irish. When 
our Scottish kinsmen were detected appropriating the ancient saints of Ireland, (wonld that they rid us of 
some modern ones,) they took a fancy to its music. Not satisfied with borrowing the art, they despoiled us of 

1 See " Irish Minstrelsy," &c, by James Hardiman, M.B.I.A, Two volumes, 8vo. Londori, Joseph Robins, 1831. 


many of our sweetest airs, and amongst others, that of Maggy Laidir. This name signifies in the original, strong 
or powerful Maggy, and by it was meant Ireland also, designated by our bards under the names of Shccla na 
Guira, Granna Weale, Eoisin Dubh, &c. By an easy change, the adjective laidir, strong, was converted into 
Lauder, the patronymic of a Scotch family, and the air was employed to celebrate a famous courtesan of Crail." 

We are quite at a loss to understand Mr. Hardiman's assertion, that " the air as well as the 
words of Maggy Laidir, though long naturalized in North Britain, is Irish." He offers no proof 
of the Irish origin of the air which, known in Scotland as "Maggie Lander," bears no resem- 
blance in style or construction to the airs of Ireland in the seventeenth century. Bunting does 
not give the air in any of his collections, but in his Third Collection, page 56, he alludes to it 
as an Irish air, and gives Hardiruan as his authority. As to the words of the Scottish song 
" Maggie Lauder," they have nothing in common with the Irish words and translation given by 
Mr. Hardiman, and certainly afford him no ground for calling Maggie " a celebrated courtesan 
of Crail." In Johnson's Scots Musical Museum, in six volumes, 1839, edited by the eminent 
antiquary David Laing, Esq., we find (vol. vi. pages 475-479, and 522-525) that the old Scot- 
tish song of Maggie Lauder was written about the year 1642, by Francis Semple, Esq. of 
Beltrees, in the county of Benfrew. Mr. Stenhouse says, page 477, "Gay introduced the air of 
Maggie Lauder in his musical opera of Achilles, printed in 1733. The same air had previously 
been used for a song, called Sally's New Answer, set to the tune of Mogey Louther, a sort of 
parody on Carey's Sally in our Alley, as well as for a song in the Quaker's Opera, written by 
Thomas Walker, and acted at Lee and Harper's Booth in Bartholomew Fair, anno 1728." Dr. 
Percy says that the air of Maggie Lauder was made at the time of the Beformation in Scotland, 
by metamorphosing a hymn-tune of the Latin service into a lively ballad-tune. Mr. Hardiman, 
vol. i. p. 177, alludes to O'Kane, the famous Irish harper, as having introduced into Scotland 
several airs adopted there ; and mentions Thomas O'Conellan, " a celebrated Irish composer," 
whose brother Laurence visited Scotland about 1700, and carried thither several of his late 
brother Thomas's airs, among which were " Planxty Davis, since well known as the Battle of 
Killiecranky, and a prelude to the ' breach ' of Aughrim, universally admired under the name of 
Farewell to Lochaber." In the Notes to the airs " Lord Bonald," and " Lochaber no more," in 
this Work, pp. 116, 117, we have pointed out the resemblance between them, and shewn the 
uncertainty that exists regarding the origin of both. The tune called in Scotland the Battle of 
Killiecrankie 1 may be Irish, or may be Scottish. Vague tradition without documentary proof 
cannot settle its origin. Popular tunes, the dates of which are not fixed by written or printed 
copies, cannot be claimed with certainty by any nation, unless through the living testimony of 
their composers. 

Mr. Hardiman (vol. i. pp. 353, 354) notices the very ancient song, " Sumer is icumen in," 
given by Dr. Burney, in his History of Music, (vol. ii.,) who is severely blamed for stating the 
music of that song in parts to be English, instead of Irish, as a writer quoted by Mr. Hardiman 
asserts that it is. That writer says : — " It is to our countryman, Dr. Young, the late lamented 
Bishop of Clonfert, that we are indebted for the restitution of our property in a sweet and 
touching melody. He proved that this very ancient tune of Burney, is no other than our 
Samhre teacht, or ' Summer is coming.' It had been handed down among the traditional 
melodies of the Irish harpers, rescued at the meeting in Belfast, and secured in the permanent 
characters of music in Bunting's Collection ; its name imports its origin," &c. In reply to this 
claim, Englishmen may say, with perfect truth, that the first three or four notes only of the air 

1 There are two different tunes known in Scotland under that name. One of them appears in the copy of the Leyden Lyra-Viol Book, 
iu the Advocates' Library, Edinburgh. 


given by Burney, have anything in common with the Irish air, Samhre teacht, in Bunting's First 
Collection ; and that in other respects the two airs do not at all resemble each other. The 
English song and air, " Suiner is icumen in," are given by William Chappell, Esq. of London, in 
the first Part of his new and interesting publication, " Popular Music of the Olden Time ;" and, 
for reasons which he adduces, he dates that " First of National English Airs" about a.d. 1250. 

We regret to find Mr. Hardiman a maintainer of the utterly erroneous doctrine that Don 
Carlo Gesualdo, Prince of Venoza, in the sixteenth century, improved Italian music by infusing 
into it the style of Scottish, or of Scoto-Irish melody. Mr. Hardiman says : — 

" Ireland gave its music to Scotland, and thence it may be traced in the modern history of the art, imparting 
its beauties and sweetness to Italy. According to the poet Tassoni, the ancient music of the Scotch or Irish, and 
particularly the compositions of the first James of Scotland, was imitated by Gesualdus, the chief of the Italian 
composers, and greatest musical improver of the sixteenth century. The celebrated Geminiani frequently declared 
that the works of Gesualdus were his first and principal study. Hence probably his acknowledged partiality for 
Irish music, and his well-known admiration of the bard Carolan. Our countryman, Goldsmith, alludes to the 
opinion of Geminiani, ' that we have in the dominions of Great Britain no original music except the Irish.' See 
British Mag., 1760. It is amusing to see how our Scottish neighbours invariably treat this subject. Among 
others, Mr. Tytler in his Dissertation on Scottish Music, {Trans. Soc. Antiq. of Scotland,\o].i.4~5,) after noticing 
the imitations of James I. by Gesualdus, exclaims, ' How perfectly characteristic this of the pathetic strains of the 
old Scottish songs! what an illustrious testimony to their excellency!' But, quoting the following passage from 
Major, ' In cithara Hibernenses aut Silvestres Scot!, qui in ilia arte pnecipui sunt,' he says, 'To these sylvan 
minstrels I imagine we are indebted for many fine old songs which are more varied in their melody, and more 
regular in their compositions, as they approach nearer to modern times.' Here the ingenious investigator sup- 
pressed the word Hibernenses altogether, because it pointed out but too clearly the origin of these old Scottish 
songs." See vol. i. pp. viii, ix, x, of Mr. Hardiman's " Introduction." 

We cannot allow this passage to remain unanswered. If Mr. Hardiman means to assert that 
Scotland derived all her ancient music from Ireland, we deny the proposition, and call upon him 
to prove it. We refer to our " Introduction" to " The Melodies of Ireland," published in 1854, 
by Messrs. Wood and Co. of Edinburgh. With regard to Mr. Hardiman's assertion that, in the 
sixteenth century, Irish or Scoto-Irish music " imparted its beauties and sweetness to Italy," in 
the musical compositions of the Neapolitan Prince Carlo Gesualdo of Venosa, we are convinced 
that Mr. Hardiman must be totally ignorant of the works of that composer, otherwise he never 
could have asserted anything so destitute of foundation. Patrick Murray, the fifth Lord Elibank, 
who died in 1778, was the first person who pointed out the passage since so often quoted from 
Alessandro Tassoni's " Pensieri Diversi," as affording a proof that the Italian composer, Carlo 
Gesualdo, Prince of Venosa, had imitated the Scottish style of music invented by James I. of 
Scotland. The passage in Tassoni's Pensieri is as follows : — " Noi ancora possiamo connumerar, 
tra nostri, Jacopo Ee di Scozia, che non pur cose sacre compose in canto, ma trov6 da se stesso, 
una nuova musica lamentevole, e mesta, differente da tutte 1'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 mirabili invenzioni." — Lib. x. cap. xxiii. Before going farther, we may remark that 
one of the most intelligent Italian critics says of Tassoni's Pensieri, " Nei quali non rade volte 
avanza paradossi piuttosto che ragionevoli opinioni." Mr. William Tytler was the first person 
who publicly, in his Dissertation, adduced the above passage from Tassoni, in support of the 
false opinion that Gesualdo had imitated the Scottish style in his musical compositions. That 
Gesualdo did nothing of the kind we have pointed out in the Note, page 49 of this volume. If 
Mr. Hardiman had examined that statement 1 with the carefulness and musical knowledge requi- 

i Published originally in the first volume of " Wood's Songs of Scotland," rage 09. 


site, or had employed some person qualified to examine it, he or his agent would have found 
not only that all the assertions which have been built upon the passage in Tassoni rest upon 
a misinterpretation of that passage, but, moreover, that the musical compositions of Carlo 
Gesualdo exhibit clearly the most complete refutation of those assertions. More as to this after- 
wards. As to Geminiani's acknowledged partiality for Irish music, being probably derived from 
his early study of Carlo Gesualdo's works, it would be as reasonable to say that a man's love of 
popular ballad-poetry originated in his study of Euclid's Elements, seeing that these contain just 
as much of poetry as Gesualdo's works contain of Irish or Scottish melody. Geminiani's asser- 
tion, recorded by Goldsmith, " that we have in the dominions of Great Britain no original music 
except the Irish," may have arisen from his ignorance of the national music of Great Britain, or 
from that ignorance combined with a desire to gain the goodwill of the Irish, among whom he 
spent the last two years of his life, dying at Dublin in 1762, aged 83. 1 In the Notes to this 
volume we have shown that the musical opinions and assertions of Geminiani, as well as of Gold- 
smith, are utterly unworthy of the smallest credit. 2 In farther proof of Goldsmith's incompetency 
to treat of musical subjects, we may quote his own confession of his miserable want of skill 

in music :— 

" How often have I led the sportive choir 
With tuneless pipe, beside the murmuring Loire ! 

And haply, though my harsh touch, faltering still, 
But mock'd all tune and marr'd the dancers' skill, 
Yet would the village praise my wondrous power, 
And dance, forgetful of the noontide hour." 

The Traveller. 

The French, in general, are not remarkable for fine musical ears ; but in Goldsmith's case 
one is at a loss which to admire most, their want of musical feeling, or their abundance of kind 
feeling and national politeness towards the stranger who piped to them so execrably, and had his 
meal and bed for his pains. In others of his writings, we find him acknowledging that he knew 
very little of music. In one passage he says, that " every peasant in Italy was a better musician 
than he." 3 That a man of Goldsmith's admirable literary talents should have presumed to write 
about music with equal ignorance and audacity, almost ceases to amaze us when we learn that he 
actually entertained the insane idea of going to the East, to decipher the inscriptions on the 
Written Mountains, though he was altogether ignorant of Arabic, or the language in which they 
might be supposed to be written. He was tempted by the salary of £300 per annum. 4 

With respect to the real meaning of the passage quoted from Tassoni's Pensieri Diversi, we 
have already shown in this volume (page 49) that the words, " Nel che poi e stato imitato da 
Carlo Gesualdo," &c, do not signify that Gesualdo imitated the new Scottish style of music 
invented by James I., but that he imitated the example of the Scottish king in inventing a new 
style of music, " plaintive and mournful, different from all other music." The last words of the 
quotation show this still more clearly, when it is said by Tassoni of Gesualdo, that " in our age 
he also has illustrated music by new and wonderful inventions," which could not have been said 
if he were a mere imitator of the style of music composed by James I. The rational interpreta- 
tion of the passage is, therefore, that James I. and the Prince of Venosa were two distinguished 

1 Mr. Hardiman, in his note on " Eileen a Roon," (or " Robin Adair,") says : — " Handel, as related by the venerable Charles O'Conor, in 
his Dissertations on the History of Ireland, declared that he would rather have been the author of ' Eileen a Roon ' than of the most exqui- 
site of his musical compositions." — Vol. i p. 328. It is absurd to imagine that Handel ever said any such thing except in jest. If he did 
say it — for be had much sly humour— he may possibly have visited Castle Blarney and kissed its famous stone ; that stone of miraculous 
influence, at which the witty and good-tempered Irish themselves are always ready to laugh. At page 366, vol. i., Mr. Hardiman takes a 
serious and angry view of the Blarney stone tradition. 

2 See pp 104, 109, 114, 122. 3 See Prior's Life of Goldsmith, pp. 179, 180, 195. * Idem, p 213. 


cultivators of music, each of whom invented a new style of musical composition ; the Neapolitan 
prince having been incited to new musical inventions by the example of the Scottish king. Mr. 
Hardiraan himself leads us to perceive his motives for supporting all that has been written and 
spoken regarding the pretended imitation of Scottish music by the Prince of Venosa in his Italian 
compositions. " Ireland," says Mr. Hardiman, " gave its music to Scotland, and thence it may 
be traced in the modern history of the art, imparting its beauties and sweetness to Italy." 
Having assumed as a fact that the Scottish music is really Irish, he is at once ready to cherish 
the idea that Irish, or Scoto-Irish music was imitated by the Italian composers of the sixteenth 
century, and that it influenced and improved their style. In other parts of his book, Mr. Hardi- 
man assures us that " many a neglected Irish bard possessed genius equally entitled to admira- 
tion" as that of our Scottish poet, Eobert Burns; 1 that the Irish language is sweeter and more 
musical than the Italian, and superior to it in many respects; 2 and that certain Irish odes are 
equal to Sappho's love-strain, and to Anacreon's bacchanalian ode. 3 

But to revert to the matter regarding old Scottish music and Carlo Gesualdo. Every reason- 
able person is aware that fanciful hypotheses and false assertions are not to be refuted effectually 
by anything but direct appeal to indisputable realities. We now bring the question to a test 
which cannot for a moment be demurred to by any honest and rational inquirer. In the begin- 
ning of the year 1855, we ascertained, from official authority at the University of Oxford, that the 
whole of the Prince of Venosa's published compositions, (Madrigals,) with the exception of the 
fifth volume, are still carefully preserved there in the Library of Christ Church. They consist of 
a reprint of the first and second books of these madrigals at Venice in 1603, by Scipione Stella; 
an edition of the third hook published at Venice in 1619; an edition of the fourth book, printed 
at Venice in 1604; and a new edition of the sixth book, also published at Venice in 1616. 
Besides these printed copies of Carlo Gesualdo's compositions preserved at Oxford, there are 
thirteen of his Madrigals in MS., in the eighth volume of Dr. Charles Burney's Musical Ex- 
tracts, preserved in the British Museum, London. The titles of these MS. copies of Gesualdo's 
Madrigals are : — 

1. Caro amoroso. 8. Ahi, gia mi discoloro. 

2. Sento che nel partire. 9. Besta di darmi noia. 

3. Dall' odorate spoglie. 10. Dolcissimo sospiro. 

4. Madonna, io ben vorrei. 11. La morte mia, (Fragment.) 

5. Sparge la morte. 12. Moro, lasso, al mio duolo. 

6. Questa crudele e pia. 13. Tu piangi, Filli mea. 

7. Belta, poiche t'assenti. 

But, besides these MS. copies, there exists in the same Library, a complete printed edition, in 
Score, of the whole six books of the Prince of Venosa's Madrigals ; viz., the edition of these by 
Simone Molinaro, at Genoa, in 1613, in quarto. The Museum Catalogue reference is " G. 50. 
Gesualdo (Carlo) Prince of Venosa ;" followed by the title of the work. 

Now, we invite all persons who may still persist in the erroneous belief that Carlo Gesualdo 
imitated the style of our Scottish melodies in his compositions, to go to the Library of Christ 
Church at Oxford, or to the Library of the British Museum at London, and to examine (with a 
competent knowledge of music) all these printed and manuscript copies of the Prince of Venosa's 
Madrigals, and then to declare, on their honour and conscience, whether or not they have been 
able to find in these madrigals any trace of Scottish melody, or anything even resembling any 
popular national melody whatsoever. 

1 Vol i. p. xxiv. J lb., p. xxxiii. 3 lb., pp. 124-129. 


In concluding our answer to the assertions contained in the passage above quoted from Mr. 
Harditnan's work, we beg leave to remark that Mr. William Tytler did not " suppress" the word 
" Hibernenses," (Hibernienses?) in his quotation from Major, or Mair, but gave it honestly ; and 
merely insinuated that the " Sylvestres Scoti," mentioned by Mair, might possibly have been 
the composers of some of our best Scottish melodies, a supposition which we are not inclined to 
entertain. But while Mr. Hardiman blames Mr. Tytler for a " suppression," he himself takes no 
notice of a remarkable passage in Fordun's " Scotichronicon," lib. xvi. cap. xxviii., where we 
find the skill in harp-playing of James I. of Scotland thus recorded : — " In hoc patuit ipsum 
naturalem fore Scotum, ipsos etiam Hibernienses in modulationibus lyricis mirabiliter prrecel- 
lentem." We have mentioned above, Mr. Hardiman's assertion that there have been many 
neglected Irish bards equal in genius to Burns. Why did he not prove this by givhig specimens 
of their poetry in his work? He is not only desirous to deprive Scotland of her just share of 
musical reputation, but to obscure the bright fame of Burns by asserting that Ireland has had 
many such poets. It is remarkable that Thomas Moore, an Irish poet of no small celebrity, and 
possessed of some skill in music, made no mention of even one Hibernian poet equal to Burns, 
and entertained opinions very different from those of Mr. Hardiman, respecting the merits of the 
most ancient Irish music. 1 Speaking of his visit to Edinburgh in 1826, Moore says : — 

"Having thus got on Scottish ground, I find myself awakened to the remembrance of a name which, when- 
ever song-writing is the theme, ought to rank second to none in that sphere of poetical fame. Robert Burns was 
totally unskilled in music ; yet the rare art of adapting words successfully to notes, of wedding verse in congenial 
union with melody, which, were it not for his example, I should say none but a poet versed in the sister art ought 
to attempt, has yet, by him, with the aid of a music to which our own country's strains are alone comparable, 
been exercised with so workmanly a hand, as well as with so rich a variety of passion, playfulness, and power, as 
no song-writer, perhaps, but himself, has ever yet displayed. That Burns, however untaught, was yet, in ear and 
feeling, a musician, is clear from the skill with which he adapts his verse to the structure and character of each 
different strain. Still more strikingly did he prove his fitness for this peculiar task, by the sort of instinct with 
which, in more than one instance, he discerned the real and innate sentiment which an air was calculated to 
convey, though always before associated with words expressing a totally different feeling. Thus the air of a 
ludicrous old song, ' Fee him, father, fee him,' has been made the medium of one of Burns's most pathetic 
effusions ; while, still more marvellously, ' Hey, tuttie tattie,' has been elevated by him into that heroic strain, 
' Scots, wha ha'e wi' Wallace bled ;' a song which, in a great national crisis, would be of more avail than all the 
eloquence of a Demosthenes." 8 

A writer in the Dublin University Magazine, appears to take a view of the Irish song writers 
very different from that entertained by Mr. Hardiman. In a review of volumes v. and vi. of 
Thomas Moore's " Memoirs," &c, and after remarks on Moore in his forty-sixth year, we read in 
that Magazine as follows : — 

" For the music of his country he had done more than it could have been possible for any one who did not 
combine great powers, both of musical and poetical expression, to have effected. The service thus tendered to the 
better literature of his country did not consist alone, or even chiefly, in associating his own exquisite words to 
that divine music, but in disuniting from it the vile words which, before his time, had been connected with all the 
Irish airs. We have somewhere heard it said of the Scottish music, that the devil supplied words to angelic 
music. If this was true of the music of Scotland, still more true was it of that of Ireland ; and whether the union 
between Moore's words and the music of his country is, as we cannot but hope and believe, to be a permanent one 
or not, the old association between devilish words and angelic harmonies is for ever broken. Whenever we feel 
the sort of dissatisfaction with Moore which his earlier poetry is calculated to provoke, or when we are disposed 
to be angry with his rabid politics, we remember this, the greatest service which in modern times a poet has ever 
rendered to his country, and we feel that more than atonement has been made." 

1 See p. 115 of this volume, and pp. vii, viii of Introduction to Wood's " Songs of Ireland." 

2 Moore's " Poetical Works," vol. v., Preface, x. li, xii. 3 For February 1854, p. 161. 


Many of our best Scottish melodies have been long known and admired in Germany. Some 
of them have been published at Leipzig, well arranged for four male voices, with German words 
translated from the Scottish words, by Herr J. Dtirrner, an able German musician now resident 
in Edinburgh. 

Our limits warn us to close this Introduction ; but we cannot conclude it without adverting 
to some printed criticisms on " Wood's Songs of Scotland," which we have not until now had an 
opportunity of refuting in print. 

In the year 1849, Archibald Bell, Esquire, printed a small volume of 139 pages, 1 a copy of 
which he obligingly sent to the Editor of this work. As Mr. Bell, in the course of his Notes, 
expressed some unfounded criticisms upon " Wood's Songs of Scotland," the Editor thought it 
necessary to reply to these criticisms ; and, accordingly, wrote to Mr. Bell the following letter, 
which remains unanswered : — 

" 31, Gilmore Place, Edinburgh, 16,'7i July 1850. 

" Sir, — I have to thank you for the copy of your ' Melodies of Scotland,' which did not reach me till this 

" I observe that you say, in your Note on ' The deuks dang o'er my daddie,' ' In Wood's Songs of Scotland, 
(vol ii. p. 8,) the present name is given to a quite different air, which is not adapted to the following words, and 
which the author has always heard called by the name of " My Highland Lassie, 0." ' In the first place, you 
refer to p. 8 of the second, instead of the third volume of Wood. In the next place, you will find the air, as 
there given, in a great many collections, under the name of ' The deuks dang o'er my daddie,' from Oswald's 
Collection downwards. In the Notes upon it in Wood, vol. iii. p. 9, and Appendix, pp. 165, 166, you will find 
that the air has been claimed as English. I am at a loss to understand you when you say that the air in Wood 
is ' quite different' from the air to which Burns wrote the words ' The bairns gat out wi' an unco shout ;' because, 
if you will turn up Johnson's Museum, vol. iv. p. 409, you will find there the very same air as that given in 
Wood's work. The same air with the same name appears in M 'Gibbon's Collection, and in George Thomson's 
Collection, folio, vol. i. p. 37. 

" With regard to ' The weary pund o' tow,' Mr. Stenhouse says : — ' The humorous verses were supplied by 
Burns, on purpose for the Museum. The bard has only altered one word in his original manuscript, viz., suck, at 
the end of the third line of the second stanza, is scored through with his pen, and souk substituted as being more 
euphonial.' See Johnson's Museum, vol. iv. p. 325. In the Appendix to the second volume of Wood's work, 
you will find (p. 172) some farther information regarding ' The weary pund o' tow.' 

" As to ' The Boatie rows,' you mistake when you say ' This beautiful melody is said, in Wood's Songs of 
Scotland (vol. ii. p 3) to be the production of a Mr. Ewen, of Aberdeen,' &c. In the Note, vol. iii. p. 3, of Wood's 
work, it is not said that Mr. Ewen composed the air; though it is said, on the authority of Burns, that Mr. Ewen 
wrote the song. 

" You say that ' Loch Erroch Side' 'has been pi-inted in Wood's Scottish Songs (vol. i. p. 134) under the 
name of " The Lnss o' Gowrie." ' In vol. ii. of Wood, p. 134, the air is called ' Loch Erroch Side ;' the sontj is called 
' The Lass o' Gowrie.' 

" In your Note on ' My bonnie Highland Lassie, 0,' you make another attack upon me for giving the air, 
p. 8 of vol. iii. of Wood's Collection, ' under a title which the author cannot help considering as a misnomer, viz., 
"The deuks dang o'er my daddie."' If you will read attentively what I have written above, as well as for Wood's 
work, regarding the air called in so many collections ' The deuks dang o'er my daddie,' you will see that I did 
not give it that name. It had that name in collections published before I was born ; and, if the name is ' a 
misnomer' you cannot blame me for it. Why you should consider the name as ' a misnomer,' is beyond my com- 
prehension. — I remain, Sir, your obedient servant, 

" Geo. Farquhar Graham. 
"To Archibald Bell, Esq.," &c. &c. 

i " Melodies of Scotland. By Archibald Bel], Esq. Edinburgh : PriDted for Private Circulation. 3849." We do not know why Mr 
Bell calls his book " Melodies of Scotland," since it consists of songs in the Scottish dialect, written for airs that are named, but that do not 
appear in the volume. 


' = 80 









heard them 


at the 







Lass - es 

lilt - tin' be 

fore dawn of 


Now there's a 

moan - in on 




-> — E- 


-*— *- 

* « *-= ^f-TT 

il - l;a green loan - in', The Flowers of the Fo - rest are a' wede 

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

Nae daffin, nae gabbin, but sighin' and sabbin' ; 
Ilk 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, laiuentin' her dearie, 
The Flowers of the Forest are a' wede away. 

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

At fair or at preachin', nae wooin', nae fleecbin', 
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 Flo wees op 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 p. 2,) 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 imita- 
tion 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 yesterday. Its author must very soon be dis- 
covered.'" — Beliques. 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 Blackwood's edition of Johnson's Musical Museum, 
in 1839, vol. i., Illustrations, p. 04, 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 bo abbreviated thus ;— " Mureum Elustrations," adding the volume and rage. 








've seen the smil - ing of For - tune be - cuil - inc. I've 


Fve seen the smil - ing 

For - tune be - guil - ing, I've 


i^p^p^i^^ ^pp Pi 


felt all its fa - vours, and 


found its de - cay : Sweet was its bless - ing, 




kind its ea - ress - ing, But 


fled, 'tis fled 










ed tLe 


most, "With 







-e-e— g 

— ' — t*— p- H 

■/-£ P~s ; 

flow-ers of the fair - est, most plea - sant and gay, Sae bon - uy was their bloom -ing, their 




-^ — «|3 J « 1_ |^U 


scent the air per - fum - ing, But now they are wi - ther - ed 


a' wede a - way. 

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 consequences; 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." 

" 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 Peeblesshire, 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. 


= 92 



Gloo-my win-ter's now a-wa', Saft the west-lin' breez-es blaw, 'Mang the birkso' Stan-ley shaw, Tin 




ma - vis sings fu' cheer - ie, O. Sweet the craw fliw'rs ear- ly bell, Dechs Glen - if - fer's dew - y dell, 

a — #- 



Blooming like thy bon -nie sel', My young, my art - less dear - ie, O. Come, my las - sie, let us stray 


O'er Glen -kil-Iooh'ssun-ny brae, Bljthe-ly spend the gow-den day 'Midst joys that ne - ver wea - rie, 0. 

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 tiling is cheerie, 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 aw a'." The melody appears in Johnson's Museum, No. 594, differing in several notes from 
the air published as " Lord Balgonie'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. We learn, vol. vi., 

page 508 of Illustrations of Johnson's Musical Musemn,_that Mr. Alexander Campbell, the editor of Albyn's Antho- 
logy, 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. 

The following clever song to the same air, was written in his early days, by Captain Charles Gray, R.M. :— 

When the sun o'er Kelly-law When the blast o' winter chill 

Lets the e'enin' shadows fa', Blaws the drift o'er Kenny-hill, 

And the winds ha'e died awa', Snawy wreathes the hollows fill, 

I wander forth fu' cheerie, 0. And ilka thing looks drearie, 0. 

Parted clouds ascend the sky, Bare and leafless, Airdry woods, 

Deeply dipt in Nature's dye ; Ravin' wi' the angry thuds, 

To their nests the songster's fly, Toss their branches to the cluds, 

'Mang bushes thick and briery, 0. Wi' sugh fu' sad and eerie, 0. 
Then the twinklin' star of May* Winter ! blaw thy wildest blast- 
Lights the seaman on his way ; Be the sky wi' cluds o'ercast ; 
So the hour o' gloamin' grey, Let me clasp her at the last, 

Lights me to my loved dearie. 0. My fond, my faithfu' dearie, ! 

* Tie Isle of May, on which there is a light-house. It will be perceived thJit the si'enery of this little descriptive song lies on the cast of 
Fife, of which the author is a native. 


P = 108 

ft Si P 

AFFETTUOSO. ■{§)■ — 





wee thing, 

nie wee thing, 


Love - ly wee thing, wert thou mine ; I would wear thee in my bo - som, 






.0 _ 1 1 1 Y-m-T-p-W- •— =■ 


4 — & ~ 

Lest my jew - el 1 should tine. Wish - ful - ly I look and Ian - guish, 







^ -— - 

In that bon - nie 

face of 

thine ; 

And my heart 





stounds with an 






In the following stanza the first four lines are sung to the second part of the air, ami 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, tlie charming lovely Davies. — Meliques. The 
words are adapted to the tune of ' The honnie 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 transcribe from it what 
he pleased. The original has disappeared since the sale of the library of the late Mr. Chalmers of London, to whom 
it belonged. What the Editor transcribed from it, he sent 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 :- 


nc— =ic 










— \- 



Ro - bin is my 

-— 1- 

ly joe, For Ro - bin lias the 



lo'e, So 





bow, Be 



^^^^ ^ 



:l p 


cause 1 ken he 

lo'es me. Hap - py, hap - py, 

was the show'r That 

j ^ g^^P^ g^P ^^s; 

led me 

his bir - ken bow'r, Where first of 






fand the pow'r, 


kend that Ro - bin 

lo'ed me. 

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, 
O 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 Macfar- 
lane about 1740-43, and now in the possession of the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland. 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. 


» = 84 







=~^ /- 


Oh ! why left I my hame ? Why did I cross the 









land Where my 



fa - thers 




sleep ? 


sigh for 



shore, And I 


a - cross 









But I can - na' get 

blink ' O' my 


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 lin tie's s 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. 

' Glimpse. 

" On ! whv 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 published 
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 Goi-don, 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 Col- 
lection, 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 tunc, and brings additional proof of his utter untrustworthiness. See p. 42, of this 
work for " The Lowlands of Holland," and p. 43, for " Of a' the airts the wind can blaw." 







BS£ ^^ 


Gin I had a wee house, and a can - ty wee tire, 







* 0- 



bon - nie wee wi - fie to praise and ad - mire, A boa - nie wee yard - ie bo 




— - 

*±=±=J J— * 

Bide a wee burn; Fare - weel to the bo - dies that yam - mer and mourn. Sae 


\- \ * p • |» 


« #- 


bide ye yet, and bide ye yet, Ye lit - tie ken what may be - tide me yet, Some 



^-^-K - 






# — »- 

*—d ' — *—$ 


bon -nie wee bo - die may fa' to my lot, And I'll aye be can - ty wi' think-in' o't, wi' 



p p 


m m 

-0 — 0- 

think - in' o't, wi' think - in' o't, I'll aye be can - ty wi' think - in' o't. 

When I gang afield, and come hame at e'en, 
I'll get my wee wine 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 wine an' me, 
In hearty good humour, although she be teas'd, 
I'll kiss her and clap her until she be pleased. 
Sae bide ye yet, &c. 

"Bxdeve 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, iny 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 
Illustrations, vol. i. pp. 100 and 141. 










sea - son 











all things 



sweet ap - pear, 
















morn - ing ray, A - rose and sung his 



*j ^ 



ru - ral lay. Of Nan - ny's charms the 




shep - herd sung, The 

hills and dales with 



rung; And 








-^= — ■-• — — 0- 

Ros - lin Cas - tie heard the swain, And e - cho'd back the cheer - ful strain. 

Awake, sweet muse ! the breathing spring 
With rapture warms; awake, and sing ! 
Awake, and join the vocal throng 
Who bail 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 his lay ; 
'Tis beauty fires the ravished 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, O come away ! 

Come, while the muse this wreath shall twine 

Around that modest brow of thine ; 

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. 

" Koslin 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, bypassing off tunes of bis own as compositions of David Rizzio. 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 Burns called " beautiful," were written by Richard 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, 407. 


• = 58 









Hear me, ye nymphs, and 

ry swam, 




j^-f \ - j± +*4 

i^gi ^#^ ^ 





tell how Peg - gy grieves me ; Though thus I Ian - guish and com -plain, A - 







las ! she 

ne'er be - lieves me. 





J J i I 

pg^=^ E #= g=^E P£E^ 

si - lent air, Un - heed - ed, ne - ver 

her : The 

^s^g^ ^teg^^ ig 

bon - nie bush a 

boon Tra-quiilr, Was where I first did meet her. 

That day she smiled and made me glad, 

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

So sweetly there to find her. 
T 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 mc? 
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 for- 
merly 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 nymphs, and every swain,' written by Wil- 
liam Crawford, Esq., author of Tweedside, &c. ; but the old song, it is believed, is lost." (See Museum Illustrations, 
vol. i. pp. 84, 85.) 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 1 732. 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 melo- 
dies. 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. 




: 54 



jggE ^&^ E^^mm 

When the sheep are in the fauld, and the 


at hame, And 




■#— — 


the warld to 

sleep are gane ; The waes o' my heart fa' 







show'rs frae my e'e, When my glide - man lies sound by me. 

Young Jamie lo'ed me weel, and lie 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 had na been gane a week but only twa, 

When my father brake bis 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 ; 

t 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 Jamie 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 beat a gude wife to be, 
For auld Robin Gray is [a] kind [man] to me. 

" Auld Robin Gray." (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. 




P = 80 









-=1 — IV 

Young Ja - mie lo'ed me weel, and sought me for his bride; But 


sav - ing a crown, he had naething else be - side. To make that crown a pound, my 






Ja - mie gaed to sea. And the crown and the uound, were 

3ggfe=a ^ 

fa - ther brake his arm, and our cow was stown a - wa'; My mi-ther she fell sick, and 


n ^ ro«. 

Ja - mie at the sea, And auld Ro - bin Gray came a court - ing me. 

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

" Auld 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 Lecvcs, Rector of Wrington in Somersetshire. He tells us, than 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 soDg, and a second continuation of it, are given, together 
with the letter above quoted. In that edition there are a good many alterations 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 of the song in 1825, with Lady Anne Barnard's interesting letter. In Burke's " Patrician," 
(No. 26, for June 1848, p. 531,) there is published a letter from the beautiful Miss Reay to the Rev. Mr. Hackman, by 
whom she was shot dead on 7th April 1779. In that letter, dated 10th December 1775, Miss Reay alludes to the song 
of " Auld Robin Gray," as being the composition of Lady Anne Lindsay. The passage is as follows : — " But I will 
transcribe you a verse which I don't believe you ever heard me sing, though it's my favourite. It is said to be part 
of an old Scots ballad — nor is it generally known that Lady A. Lindsay wrote it. Since we have understood each 
other, I have never sung it before you, because it is so descriptive of our situation — how much more so since your 
cruelly kind proposal of yesterday ! I wept like an infant over it this morning : — 

" ' I gang like a ghost, and I do not care to spin, 

I fain would think on Jamie, but that would be a sin ; 
I must e'en do my best a good wife to be, 
For auld Robin Gray has been kind to me.' 

My poor eyes will only suffer me to add, for God's sake, let me see my Jamie to-morrow. Your name also is Jamie." 



f = 66 








mei - kle thinks my love 

my beau - ty, And 

— » — a . d F4 -4—A d» 





mei - kle thinks my love 

J • 4 *— 4~ 

o' my kin ; But 

lit - tie thinks my love 


I ken braw-lie, My 


i— p ^ [V 4_|^_|!^zipzzy: 







tocher's the jew -el has charms for him. It's a' for the ap-ple he'll nour-ish the tree, It's 


j*= s--4^ — fr : 



a' for the hin - ney he'll cher - ish the bee, My lad - die's sae mei - kle 



$ : 

love wi' the sil - ler, He can - na hae love 


for me. 

Your proffer o' love's an arle-peuny, 
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 mi' 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 an old air, in slow common time, called ' The high- 
way to Edinburgh.' . . . Burns was mistaken in asserting, in the Keliques, 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 incon- 
ceivably 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 celebrated 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 
" Women's work will never be done," which is only an 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 1843, sent to the Editor of this work, with 
permission to copy and translate the whole. He has made a copy of the MS. 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 additional 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. 



• = 88 










How sweet this lone vale ! and how sooth - ing to feel - ing, Yon 



__u — i — z — m 

ma - vis ' s notes, which in me - lo - dy melt ; O - bli - vion of woe in my 





mind gent - Iy steal - ing, A pause from keen an-guish a mo - ment is felt. The 

rit. _ 


^E$E^^^m^^m ^^^^ ^f^§ 

moon's yel-low light o'er the still lake is sleeping, Ah! near the sad spot, Ma-ry sleeps in her tomb! A- 

gain the heart swells, the eye flows with weeping, And the sweets of the vale are all shadow'd with gloom. 

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, I see the glen-hamlet where Mary, my loved one, 

And seem to remind me how far I'm away ! With tears parted from me that heart-breaking day ! 

I see, in their cloud-mists, the ghosts of my Fathers, The morning sun shines, and I find I am lonely ! 

Who frown on my absence so far, far away ! 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 Erskinc, 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 pos- 
sessed 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 Illustrations, 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 com- 
posed 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 pos- 
sessed. Doctor Burney, who knew him, tells us this in his History of Music, vol. iv. page 677. 



r n 



™- m 






= K fe—E- 

My love's in Ger - ma - ny ; Send him hame, send him hame, My 






J w — a = , — p- 

love's in Ger - ma - ny. Send him hame. My love's in Ger - ma - ny, Fight • 




ing for roy - al - ty ; He may ne'er hi3 Jean - ie see J Send him 


: ^m. 


hame, send him hame ; He may ne'er his Jean - ie 

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. 

see ; 

send him 


Your love ne'er learnt to flee, 

Bonnie 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. 40B. 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 EncyclopEedia Britannica, p. 416, from which the following passage is extracted : 
— " This man, who had formerly been a servant in Lord Selkirk's house, had landed in 1778, and plundered it of the plate, 
but without doing any further mischief. The action, however, proved very disagreeable to his own party ; and, at the 
desire of Dr. Franklin, the plate was afterwards restored. After this exploit he attempted to set fire to the town of 
Whitehaven, but without success. In 1779, he made a descent on the coast of Ireland, but without committing any 
act of hostility ; his people, indeed, carried off some sheep and oxen, but their captain paid liberally for what they 
had taken. 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 mis- 
carried, had any attempt been made by him." 







Jf^ 9-^—4 — ■ t-i-m 


i — It 



-J — •- 


There's nought but care on ev' - ry han', In ev* - ry hour that pass -es, O; What 


sig - ni - fies the life o' man, An 'twere na for the lass - es, O. 

-£ — —— -. — — 





Green grow the rash - es, O ! Green grow the rash - es, ! The 





-0— — 

sweet - e3t hours that ere I spend, Are spent a - mang the lass - es, ! 

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. 

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, &c. 

Gie me a cannie hour at e'en, 
My arms about my dearie, ; 
An' warldly cares and warldly men, 
May a' gae tapsalteerie, 1 0. 
Green grow, &c. 

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. 

1 Tapsalteerie — topsy-turvy. 

" Gkeen geow the Rashes, !" " The air of this song is old; a bad set of it occurs in Oswald's first Collection, 
1 740 ; 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 iu 

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, 1627-29, mentioned in the Note upon " Bonnie wee 
thing," p. 4 of this work, is found, " Green greus y c 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 into 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 contrary; 
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 destitute 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. 




r 69 





ne. w -f~4— J — ■ — 'J — #-J— #•— €=^ " ■ — ^—f-i 

true love is a bon - nie flow'r, That buds in ma-ny a bo - som ; But 




g£ to£#4 


pride's cauld blast will nip its bloom, And with - er 



bios - som. 




las ! I've lost my luck - less heart, And 
. rail. O 

o' this life I'm 
poco rail. 

weary ; 




earth I'd eith - ly part. But 

wi' thee, my dea - rie. 

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 long I'll lo'e my dearie ! 

" True Love is a Bonnie Flower." Air, " Twine weel the plaiden." Speaking of the verses to this air in 
Johnson's Museum, beginning, "Oil 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 corrupted with embel- 
lishments, 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 the late 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 did much to 
rectify mistakes regarding the songs of Robert Burns, as well as the character of that extraordinary and unfortunate 
man. He died at Edinburgh, on 13th April 1851, much regretted by a wide circle of friends. 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 2G, is " Twine weel the plaiden," harmonized by Barthelemon, who was a singular character, 
and a Swedeuborgian. 

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



; 120 


fc t 

II ANTE V U V / > 

.ihbivo. liE^f 






yon hills where 










-»— a - 


muirs and moss - es 

ma - ny, O, The win - try sun the 


^ ^^ ' t" I — p '- a ^— — =E== =3=j 

■> — ^ -4-' • -^. 


day has closed, And I'll 

wa' to 

'-."an - nie, O. 









west-lin wind blaws loud and shrill, The night's baith mirk and rain - y, O; But I'll 



get my plaid and out I'll steal, And o'er the hills to Nan - nie, O. 

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 servant-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 Loehlie in the district, and is pronounced with the accent on the first syllable. 




P -= 76 







whis - tie, an' 


you, my 







whis - tie, an' I'll come to you, my lad ; Tho' fa - ther, an' mo - ther, an' 


g- * n;~ g 



a' should gae mad, O whis - tie, and I'll come to you, my 

-0— —^ — I „ f ^^ 0- 










wa - ri - ly tent when ye come to court me, And 

come na un - less the back 




yett be a - jee ; Syne up the back - stile, and let nae bo - dy 






-0 — -#- 



-* — *- 

come as ye were na com - in' to me, And come as ye were na com ■ 

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 yoit, my Lad.'' Mr. Stenhouse says, " This ah - has generally been considered of 
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 soEg begins, Since love is the plan, I'll love if J 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's Book of Scottish Song, p. 334. 




= 00 















i' e , my 






Busk ye, busk ye, my 

some mar - row. Busk ye, busk ye, my 




M 1 1 1 — 




bon - nie, bon - nie bride, And let us to the braes o' Yar - row. 











Where gat ye that bon - nie, bon - nie bride ? 

Where gat ye 







-r«-=-#— * 1 F F 


r^t g 


win - some mar - row ? I gat her where I daur - na weel be seen, 

Melody for the first line of the third verse. 





Pu'-ing the birks on the braes o* Yar - row. 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 he 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. 

" Bpsk ye, bi-sk ye." The melody was formerly called " The braes o' Yarrow." In a MS. book of tunes in tabla- 
ture 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 was sent to -the Lib- 
rary of the Faculty of Advocates, Edinburgh. In the Orpheus Caledonius, 1725-38, 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 Kamsay'9 Tea-Table Mis- 
cellany. Eight of these stanzas have been selected on this occasion. These contain the essential parts of the story. 
The first three lines belong to an ancient ballad now lost. 



f ^80 




send Lew - ie Gor - don liame, And the 


daur - na name, 


*= jL_gO E 



Though his back 






him that's far 


hon ! my High - land - man ! Oh ! my bon - nie High - land - man ! 



Weel wad 



true love ken, 

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

lang ten thou - sand High - land - men. 

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 " Cheva- 
lier." 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 fol- 
lowed 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 December 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 surprising 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.' " 



= 66 








9 # 

The laird o' Cock - pen, he's proud and he's great ; His 


^£E gp£ 

p;=F=g EEg 

mind is ta'en up wi' the things o' the state ; He want - ed a wife his 

t— l^-fc- 



- * — »- 


braw house to keep ; But fa - vour wi' wno - in' was fash - ous to seel;. 

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 grey mare, an' rade cannilic, 
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, and gaed awa' douti 

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 melo- 
dies. 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 Illustrations, 
vol. iv. pp. 326, 327. In Oswald's First Collection, dedicated to Frederick Prince of Wales, (p. 43,) we find " When 
she cam' 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. 12 — 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 mentioned, 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 humorous 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 author- 
ship in either case. Two additional stanzas have lately appeared by another hand : as they are occasionally sung, 
we subjoin them. 

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

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 appeared at Cockpen. 



• = 63 


mm^mm ^^ 


*"— r^^ 


In win - ter, when the rain rain'd eauld, An' frost and snaw on 

-fr . N -i fc — i 1 — N — S i v 

~9 — 9~ 

ilk - a hill, An' Bo - reas, wi' his blasts sae bauld, Was threat'ning a' our 


kye to kill, Then Bell, my wife, wha lo'es na strife, She said to me, right 


==j3=^jfa=g = lM > #r =- |=^r=i 


has - ti - ly, Get up, gudeman, save Crummie's life, An' tak your auld cloak a - hout ye. 

My Cruuimie is a usefu' cow, 

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

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 dear, 

An' ca'd the tailor thief and loun : 
He was the king that wore the eroun, 

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

Sae tak your auld cloak about ye. 

1 L:iw. custom, privilege. — Jamiaon. 

Ilka land has its ain lauch, 1 

Ilk kind o 1 corn has its ain hool : 
I think the world 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 ? a 

I'll hae a new cloak about me ! 

Gudeman, I wat it's 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, 

I 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 Asbes— by the fire. 

" Tak your auld cloak about te." 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 Reliqves of Ancient English 
Poetry, &c, vol. i. p, 190." A stanza of the song, slightly altered, is sung by lago in Othello, Act II. Scene 3, " King 
Stephen was a worthy peer," &c. The tune is ancient and excellent. 



» = ioo 


AW, " MOE.AQ." 




gp =^£ ^a 



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




sweet is she that lo'es me, As dens o' sim - mer weep - ing, In 





* - «' j - 

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









las - sie e - ver dear-er ; O that's the queen o' wo - man-kind, An' ne'er a ane to peer her. 

If thou shalt meet a lassie 

In grace and beauty charming, 

That e'en thy chosen lassie, 

Erewhile thy breast sae warming, 
Had ne'er sic powers alarming. 
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 she 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, that, in 1787, he wrote two other songs for it. * One begin- 
ning " 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 Eraser'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 Eraser'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 principal notes of the air. Allan Cunning- 
ham, 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." 




' = 112 


I— *- 







was up - on 

Lam - mas night, When corn 

rigs are 


m—. a-*— 




bon - nie, O, Be - neath the moon's un - cloud - ed light, I 



zt ^-4 , \-^=^i 

— £. n 1 ^BL 




An - nie, O : The time flew by wi J 

tent - less heed, Till 'tween the late and 


^P— 0- 




TtH 5 *!-!^ 





-i*j — -= 

ear - ly, O, Wi' sma' per - sua - sion she a - greed To see me through the 




bar - ley, O. 


Corn rigs, and 

a piacere. 

bar - ley rigs, 
a tempo. 

Corn ri 

gs are 

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

The sky was blue, the wind was still, 

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

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

I loved her most sincerely, O ; 
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 ; 

1 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 Cunning- 
ham's Works of Robert Burns, p. 841. 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 lie 
was one of the principal violin-players at the Edinburgh concerts in 1B95. Mr. Gay selected this tune for one of 
his songs in the musical opera of ' Polly,' beginning ' Should I not be bold when honour calls,' printed, but not acted, 
in 1729." See Museum Illustrations, vol. i. p. 96. 



: 8S 





Braw braw lads 

Yar - row braes, 




wan - der through tlie 

jfcfe- UJqj 





bloom - ing bea - ther ; But Yar - row braes, nor 



Et - trick shaws, Can 
a placer e. /f ^ 


match the 



m~ry r 

Braw, braw lads, 

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. 

Although his daddie was nae laird, 
An' though I hae nae nieikle tocher ; 

Yet, rich in kindest, truest love, 
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 Mr. 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-Lotbian, and 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 Illus- 
trations, 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 Mr. Robert Chambers gives as probably the original song of " Gala Water :" — 

" Out owre yon moss, out owre yon muir, " Lords and lairds cam' here to woo, 

Out owre yon bonnie bush o' heather, An' gentlemen wi' sword an' dagger, 

a' yc lads whae'er ye be, But the black-ee'd lass o' Galashiels 

Show me the way to Gala water. Wad hae naue but the gree o' Gala water. 

* * * ■* * * * * * 

" Adieu, soor 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. ,: 
















gie's a sang, Mont-gom-ery cried. And 

lay your dis-putes a' 

a - 

side, What 






VI "5 


v K C> 


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o m \ P _N 


/ d • L> J 


VI J « • !\ 

\ • . R J • d 


/ P * a 



• * 

$f # 

m ' 

sig - ni - fies't for folks to chide, For what was done be - fore them. 





Whig and To 

a - gree, Whig and To - ry, Whig and To 








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


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

0, Tulloeligoruni's my delight, 

It gars us a' in ane unite, 

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

For half a hunder 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' Tullochgorum. 
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 aud sulky shall we sit, 

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

To the reel o' Tullochgorum ? 
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 his lot, 
Unstain'd by any vicious spot, 
And may he never want a groat, 

That's fond o' Tullochgorum ! 
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. 

" Tullochooiutm." 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 177 6, 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. Mr. 
Skinner died in 1807, aged 86. See Museum Illustrations, vol. iii. pp. 281-284. 



» = 72 














mid - night hour, 




?P^ : 

loud the 

tern - peat's 


wae - fu' wan - d'rer seeks thy 




-tS 1 - 

-P^- 1 H ^= 

tow'r, Lord Gre - gory, ope 


thy door ! An ex - ile frae ber 










fa - ther's ha', An' 


lov - iner thee ; At least some 







If love it may na be. 

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 flasheKt 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 the first 
in P. Urbani's Collection ; but does not appear in any older collections. It is defective in rythmical structure, four 
measures alternating with three, in both strains. 

Burns remarks, " It is somewhat singular, that in Lanark, Renfrew, Ayr, Wigton, Kirkcudbright, and Dumfries- 
shires, there is scarcely an old song or tune, which, from the title, &c., can be guessed to belong to, or to be the pro- 
duction 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 0' Lochroyan,' which I take to be Lochroyan, in Galloway." 
Beliques, 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 0' 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 0' 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' gude enough, 

But ay the best was mine; 
For your's was 0' the gude red gowd, 
But mine 0' the diamond fine." 



' = 63 









S 1 

/iff i » 




() tt ^ 

— i ' 

# • 


*-. J-. r 

- L * 




— «- ^ ■ a 


thou broom, thou 

bou - nie bush 

broom ! 






leave my land and thee, 

Where thou and free - dom flour - ish'd aye, Where 







Sco - tia's sons are 

tree ! 


In - dian vales are 

rich. and fair, And 





» a ~ 


bright is tlieir flow' - ry bloom ; But sad their flow'rs, and myr - tie bow-ers, With - 




-a— — 

- — a— 

out my na - tive 

broom ! 

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

When wilt thou, thou bonnie busli 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 Untie, 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 gaue by 
When I 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 Beoom 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 pro- 
bability, one of the Scottish tunes that were introduced into England, not long after the union of the Crowns, in 1 603 ; 
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. 

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 editions of the 
air, we find it begins on the second note of the scale, or svpertonic, as it is technically and very indistinctively 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 com- 
mencement 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 air end 
on the tonic, or key-note. 










4— — 

Blythe, blythe, and mer - ry are we, Blythe are we, ane and a'; 





Can - ty days we've af - ten seen, A niolit like this we ne-ver saw! The gloam-in' saw 



: P=H* 






x' sit down, And mei-kle mirth has been our fa"; Then let the toast and sang gae round Till 

^E^ Efc^P^ 






ti - cleer be - gins to craw! Blythe, blythe, and mer - ry are we, Pick and wale 1 o' 





mer-ry men; What care we tho' the cock may craw. We're mas-ters o' the tap - pit - hen! 2 

The succeeding verses begin at the sign '.$'. 

The auld kirk bell has chappit twal — 

Wlia cares though she had chappit twn ! 
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 7 we're gnun ! 
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. 

* Ask, inquire. 

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

3 Crush, depress 
3 Peeping. 

" Blythe, blythe, 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 the late 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 the third 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 his " Lays and Lyrics" — having received his final corrections, 
was published, by his express permission, in the first edition of Wood's " Songs of Scotland," and is here reprinted. 



' = 63 






j~» J- 



Whar 7 hae ye been 


My boy, Tarn - mie ? 

g g ^F ^ Pi 








whar' hae ye been a' day, My boy, Tam-mie ? 

I've been by burn and flow' - ry brae, 










Cour - tin' o' this young thing, Just come frae her mammie. 

The smile gaed aff her bonnie face — 

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

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 mammie. 

Has she been to the kirk wi' thee, 

My boy, Tammie ? 
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 mammie. 

*J -0- 

mead-ow green, and moun-tain grey, 

An' whar' gat ye that young thing, 

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

For her purr mammie. 

What said you to the bonnie bairn, 

My boy, Tammie? 
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 mammie. 

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', wert ten times mair. 
Gin ye will leave your mammie. 

" My boy, Tammie." " This fine ballad, beginning, ' Whar' hae ye been a' day, my boy, Tammie?' 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 un- 
commonly pretty." See Museum Illustrations, 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 per- 
ceived that the air of " My boy, Tammie," 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 lus possession. If any good musician will examine the 
melodic structure of " Muirland Willie," and compare it with that of " My boy, Tammie," he will be convinced that 
the latter is derived from the former, by a process of transformation 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, Tammie," 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 principal melodic features are identical. Hector Macneill, being a singer as well as 
a poet, was no doubt well acquainted with " Muirland Willie," aud 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, Tammie ? 
She's just as fit to soop the house, as the cat to catch a mouse, 
Aud yet she's but a young thing, new come frae her mammie." 




: 80 







There cam' a young man to my 

dad - die's door, my 




*-r-4 J— 

-$ = s 




dad - die's door, my 

dad - die's door; There cam 7 a' young man to my 

b ,-1 — h~ 



dad - die's door, Cam' seek - ing me to 

woo. And wow ! but ho was a 


-f — *- 



bon - nie young lad, A brisk young lad, an' a braw young lad ; And 





wow ! but he was a bon - nie young lad, Cam' seek - ing me to 

But I was baking 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 styrne 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" ivyse men malts fules to sit on binkis."— Jamieson. 

3 A particle ; a whit ; a transitory glance. 

" There cam' a Young Man to my Dadhie'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 









High - land lad 



love was born, The 






-*— a- 


land laws 



in scorn; But he 







to his clan, 



lant, braw John High - land - man ! 




hey, my braw John High-land-man ! Sing ho, my braw John High - land - man ! There's 


— is;: 




lad in 

the Ian' Was match for my John High -land -man ! 

Wi' his philabeg 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, &o. 

But, oh ! they catch'd him at the last, 
And bound him in a dungeon fast ; 
My curse upon them every one, 
They've hanged my braw John Highlandman ! 
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 "0 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 Eurns' song in "The Jolly Beggars," have been selected for this work. The third and 
sixth stanzas are omitted. 



• = 76 







Here a - wa', there a - wa', wan - der - ing- Wil - lie ! 





# • 


Plere a - wa', tliere a - wa', Hauil a - wa' hame ! Come to my bo - som, my 






ain on - ly dear - ie ; Tell me thou bring'st me my Wil - lie the 

Winter winds blew loud and oauld 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 mair 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 aw a', 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 indicates 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 mvst 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 artisti- 
cally 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 Dr. Currie remarks in his edition of Burns' Works, " our poet, with his 
usual judgment, 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. Iu 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 quality 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." 





• = ioo 

con si'inno. 





Oh, A - las - tair Mac - A - las - tair, Your chan - ter sets us a' 


a - steer, Get 

out your pipes, 

'V • 

\vi' birr, We'll dance the High - land fljng. 



A - las - tair has tuned his pipes, An' 

thrang as bum - bees frae their bikes, 1 The 






es loup 2 the dykes, An' 

the green. 




A - las - tair Mae - A - las - tair, Your chan - ter sets us 

a - steer, Then 


^= ^=\=£^^ m=M 




to your bags, an' blaw wi' birr, We'll dance the High - land fling. 

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

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

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

[Neist rauchle-handed 5 smidtly Jock, 
A' blacken'd o'er wi' coom an' smoke, 
Wi' shauchlin'" blear-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 moudieworts 7 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 sair distress'd, 
Wi' dancin' sae, I ween. 
Oh, Alastair, &c. 

[I trow the gantrees 9 gat a lift; 
An' round the bicker flew like drift ; 
An' Alastair that very nicht, 
Could scarcely stand his lane. 
Oh, Alastair, &c] 

1 Bees from their hives 
c Shambling. 

2 Leap. 
7 Moles. 

3 Bounds. 
« Bashful. 

4 Ragged clothes. 5 Strong-handed. 

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 Cuttlehill'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. 



: 63 



-■ ge^ 

— (■"■■■ 1 S— r 



Lo - gan's streams, that 

sae deep, 



i 1 



- & 







ed sheep ; 









ga - ther'd slaes, Wi' 

my dear lad on Lo - gan braes. 






— s 4 0- 

waes my heart ! thae days are gane, And, fu' o' grief, I herd my lane, While 


j — »- 






my dear lad maun face his faes, Far, 

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 wnnder melancholy and alone. 

far frae me and Lo - gan braes. 

At e'en, when hope amaist is gane, 
I daunder dowie an' forlane, 1 
Or sit beneath the trystin'-tree, 
Where first ho spak' o' love to me. 
! could I see thae days again, 
My lover skaithless, 2 an' my ain ; 
Rever'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 Fjt twice introduced instead of Ft. The F;tt is very clearly a 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 b to the augmented octave above, Fj. In William Napier's Collection, 1790, 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 H. 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 Dumfries, 
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 Preface 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 Wood- 
houselee, one of the Scottish Lords of Session, to John Mayne, dated 6th October 180S ; 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, sug- 
gested by the feeling and clothed in the language of the moment. The ballad of ' Logan 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 1789; 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 eastwards for eight miles, and unites with the river Ncthan. 











e en - in sun 

glint - in' briclit, 


=gj — ^>— ^ J!! ]- l=q=^ : 




ver - may's sweet glen and stream. The rocks and woods, 



» o 

- ^r~- zr 


-•— # 


in' 1 like 



dy licht, Were 











-I — » — w-m— m — ^J — r-p- 



lov - in' fear 

took my gate, To seek the tryst- that bap - py day, 






'-- ' . «— *■ 







young and blate, 3 

raang the birks o' 

In - ver 

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!" 
Ae kiss, the lover's pledge, and then 

We spak o' a' that lovers say, 
Syne Hnger'd homeward through the glen. 

Amang the birks o' Invermay. 

1 Appeared as in. 

- Appointed place of meeting. 

I Bashful. 

i Skint, declining 

" The Birks of Invebmay." Some doubts have been started whether the name should be " Invermay," or " Ender- 
may ; : ' 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., Advocate — 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. Dr. 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 nonsensical. The Publishers 
have therefore adopted another song, more recently written, which is at least more simple and intelligible in its 

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



P • = 63 



CON SP1RITO. jj\} 



Cam' ye by 


lad wi' the phi - la - beg, 








Down by the Tum-mel, or banks o' the Ga - ry ? Saw ye the lads, wi' their 





bon - nets an' white cock-ades, Leav - ing their moun-tains to 

fol - low Prince Char - lie ? 

Fol - low thee, fol - low thee, wha wad-na fol - low thee ? Lang hast thou lov'd an' trust - ed us fair - ]y '. 









Char - lie, Char-lie, wha wad-na fol-lowthee? King o' the Highland hearts, bon-nie Prince Char-lie. 

I ha'e bat 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 arc 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 sha41 fly to the field wi' them ; 

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

Down through 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 Atiiol?" This song was written by James Hogg, the Ettrick Shepherd, was set to music by Neil 
Gow, Jun., and appeared in " The Border Garland ;" a work of which the first number only was published. 
The work seems to have been projected by Hogg, in order to give publicity to his own poetical and musical composi- 
tions. 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. 




: 48 



ANDANTE ^ (i „ — 
ESl'liESSlVO. (()) ff ^ T^T 

=^5 — F ^ 


l^-f # -J ^ 

Thou art 





wa\ Thou art 





f ^ tJ — J T' -g- 

SB^a ^ 

gane a - wa' frae me, Ma - ry ! Nor friends nor I could make thee stay; Thou hast 

ajt . — . n- .....-, _ _ j 

$=] lS H =t^ = ~TjH^ ]-^ jsz -ff ;7 f -^f~ l !_f ^ =^ 




— u- 

cheat - ed them and me. Ma - ry ! Un - til this hour I ne - ver thought That 


— a r < — r g 3— ? 

-f i * — *^-*— r 






ought could al - ter thee, Ma 

I* o 

ry : 

Thou'rt still the mis - tress 


f— -*^* — * 


* • 







Wkate'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 naething 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 aet qane awa'." This melody is evidently derived from the old Scottish air " Haud am' 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. 12, 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. 



-•— *- 

_g 1- 




: 66 




-K ^i 2 i 



I'm wear - in' a wa', Jean, Like snaw - wreaths in 



3 - — * — r — •^^^ 

To the 

thaw, Jean ; I'm wear 




g= ppfe £E E£ 

iE : 

II __» 

leal. There's 



nae sor - row there, Jean, There's nei - ther cauld nor 

a piacere. 

care, Jean, The 

day is aye fair In the land 



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 gude 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 glistnin' 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 alaue, 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 century, 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 despises 
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. Stenbouse (Museum, vol. ii. pp. 162, 168) 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 thirteenth 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 Edinburgh." We think it very 
doubtful that the air of " Hey, tuttie tattie," and the air of " Hey, now the day dawis," were the same. 

The excellent verses here given were published about the year 1S00 — 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. In " Lays from Strathearn," published in 
1850, the authorship of " The Land o' the Leal" is claimed for the late Lady Nairne. 



• = 116 





. m 


==^=*=n=iHEiEE=3s= —m— — • — •-• — * •—. — ** 

Scots, wha hae wi' Wal - lace bled ! Scots, wham Bruce ha9 





af - ten led ! Wei - come to your go - ry bed, Or to vie - to 





Now's the day, an' 

now's the hour : See the front of 









bat - tie lour : See ap - proaeh proud Ed - ward's power ; Chains and sla - ver - ie ! 

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

Let him turn an' flee ! 
Wha for Scotland's ldug 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, 
W e 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 bleu." We have already spoken of the air " Hey, now the day dawis," in the pre- 
ceding Note. We have now 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 him," says Mr. Syme, 
" by the moor road, where savage and desolate regions extended wide around. The sky was sympathetic 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 1733,) 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 Bannock- 
burn." Burns' original words to the air that he chose himself, are much superior to his altered ones, adapted to a 
very paltry nir 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. 



' = 100 







Bueh - an, 


gie the 


£z ~SZ&1 




laird, They ha'e ta'en a - wa' Ja - mie, that delved in the yard, Wha 





Pgi ^^F 

play'd on the pipe, an' the vi - ol sae sraa'; They ha'e ta'en a - wa' 




He said, Think na lang, 1 lass - ie, tho" 

Jam - ie, the flow'r o' them 





I gang 

For I'll come an' see thee in spite o' them a'. 

Though Sandie 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 comin', 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 sae 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'. 

i Do not weary. 

I sit on my creepie, 3 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 comin', cauld winter's awa', 
Then haste ye back, Jamie, an' bide na awa'. 

2 The stocking of a farm : furniture of a house. 

s A low foot-stool. 

" Logie o' Buciian." " 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 belonged 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. 836, 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 at Rathen, in Aberdeenshire, who died 
in 1750. 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, AVhigs, 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. 



• = 88 






l 5 ^ 


4 4 


The love that I had cho - sen, Was to my heart's con - tent, The 










saut sea sail be fro- zen Be - fore that I re -pent; Re - pent it will I ne - ver, Un • 




"*— s 

i U>- 


4 4 g 

til the day I dee, Tho' the Low - lands o' IIol - land Ha'e twinned my love and me. 

[The stanzas within brackets may be omitted in singing.] 

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.] 

[My love he built anither ship, 

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

An a' to bring her hame ; 

1 The contrary way. 

But the weary wind began to rise, 

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

Turu'd widdershins ' about !] 

There sail nae coif 2 come on my head, 

Nae kame come iu 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, baud your tongue, my daughter dear 

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

Ye needua 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] 

2 Cup, head-dress. 

" The Lowlands o' Holland." This ballad is said to have been composed, about the beginning of last century, by 
a young widow in Galloway, whose husband was drowned on a voyage to Holland. " The third verse in the 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 tune, " 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, ' Thuilc 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 Illustra- 
tions, vol. ii. p. IIS. 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-fine 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. 








^ g igg 




v= ^f . dj 

Of a' the airts 1 the wind can blaw, I dear - ly like the west ; For 

h V- -V ? h— ¥ m —»- 




-9 • 


there the bon - nie las - sie lives, The lass that I lo'e best: Tho' wild woods grow, an' ri - vers row, Wi' 


^E ^EfefcipS 




-# — 0— 


mo - nie a hill be - tween, Baith day an' night, my fan - cy's flight Is e - ver wi' my Jean. 







-r 5 — *- 


see her in the dew - y flow'r, Sae love - ly, sweet, an' fair ; I 

j^^g^i P^^Eg P ^^^^ 

hear her voice in il - Ua bird, Wi' mu - sic charm the air: There's not a bon-nie flow'r that springs, By 







foun-tain, shaw, or green, Nor yet a bon - nie bird that sings, But minds me o' my Jean. 

blaw, ye westlin winds, blaw saft 

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

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

" Wi' her tvva 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 1 
How fain to meet, how wae to part, 

That day she gaed awa' ! 
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 ! 

1 Airt — direction, poiut of the compass. 

" Of a' the airts tue wind can blaw." As to this air, see Note, page 6, and also Note, page 42. 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. Curric in his edition of Burns, Mr. Stenhouse in " Johnson's Musical Museum," and Mr. David Laing in his addi 
tional 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. 



: 60 











*E=£e3 e 









love, ay 




: F-# 





true love could 









my love, an' 


a - wa 

sought a rich - er 

dear - ie, Wha's 










fause to me, an' now, 

Oh warldly gear! 5 how mony vows, 
How mony hearts ye've broken ! 

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

Yon blythesome lark that 'boon 3 his nest 

His hymn o' love is singin', 
Nae warldly thoeht has he; the lift 4 

Is but wi' true love ringin'. 

las ! I'm lane - ly, 


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

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

1 now maun dree 5 the fate o' them 
Wha'd sell their love for gain ; 

Maun tine 6 true love for dreams o' gowd, 
An' live an' dee alane ! 

1 Timorous, affrighted. 

2 Wealth. 

1 Atmosphere, firmament. 

5 Suffer, endure. 

" Alas ! that I cam' o'er the muir." " 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' Reliques. This conjecture of Burns turns out to be amazingly correct." See Museum Illustra- 
tions, vol. i. pp. 18, 19. " It appears, however, that Ramsay was scarcely so fortunate [as to recover the first line of 
the old song.] AVhat 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 anything 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 collec- 
tions, the identical tune of ' The last time I cam' o'er the muir,' occurs no less than twice, and one of the sets com- 
mences 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 refer- 
ences 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. 



r 7f 

/\ yT 


^ = E5^gfe £pJfc|^^ ^^EEESElB £ 

• ■ \4- 

O Char - lie is my dar - ling, My dar - ling, my dar - ling ; O 



— g-T" 



my dar - ling, The young Che 

lier ! 


Mf =z= ^^ 




-F — q- 

first his stand - ard caught the eye, His pi - broch met the ear, Our 


hearts were light, our hopes were high, h'or the young Che - va- lier. O Char - lie is my dar - ling, My 




dar - ling. my dar - ling ; O Char - lie is my dar - ling, The young Che - va - lier ! 

Tbe succeeding verses begin at the sign :$: 

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 rueikle cause to fear ; 
She blinket blythe, but to beguile 

Their young Chevalier ! 

Charlie is my darling, &c. 

Wae ou 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. 

" C Ciiablie 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. 6, 12, 23. 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 the late Captain Charles Gray, R.M. They contain his latest alterations. 



• = 60 



qFfc ^^^^=g=&=^ 



"Ye maun gang to your fa - ther, Ja - net, Ye maun gang to him 




— g — — g _. — , — — , — _ — ^^ — ^-^ 

sune ; Ye maun gang to your fa - ther, Ja - net, Be - fore his days are 

IV - .. r m-x—P ^ — H— I - - a— »■ 










Ja - net's a - wa' to her fa - ther, 


fast as she could hie : " O 




r ^ » — ^s* 


what's your will wi' me, fa - ther ; O what's your will wi' 

me i" 

" 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 lias 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 clear, 

" 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 ?" 
" 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?" 

" Ay, 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 was obligingly given to the Publishers of this work by the late Charles Kirk- 
patrick 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, with some remarks. 



= 66 








Ca' the yowes 


to the knowes, Ca' them where the 


hea - ther grows, 





Ca' them where the bur - nie rows, My bon - nie dear - ie. Hark, the ma - vis', eve - ning sang, 









Sound-ing Clu-den's woods a - mang ; Then a-fau)d-ing let us gang, My bon - nie dear - ie. 

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 danee sae cheerie. 

Ghaist nor bogle shalt thou fear : 
Thour't 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 yowes io 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 im- 
perfections 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 ou Scottish Song," was the first to point out our obligations to Burns in this respect. 

The Cluden, or Clouden, is a river in Dumfriesshire, 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 rhyth- 
mus 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 
iny 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 lags would perhaps be displeased with the very feature for which I like 
them. I call them simple ; you would pronounce them silly." " September, 1793. You know that my pretensions 
to musical taste ai-e 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 iu painting : we are told that he frequently admired what the connoisseurs decried, and always with- 
out any hypocrisy confessed his admiration," &c. 
















Pi-broch of Do - nuil Dhu, Pi - broch of Do - nuil, Wake thy wild voice a - new, 




Sam - mon Clan Co - nuil. Come a - way, come a - way, Hark to the sum - mons ! 

f) 1 




V .9 . 

^ i» 


• • 

/I K i P* 


« • 

\ ' *■ 


l(\\ * -J 

* _■ 



V r r V 


vv m 

• • l> 

* m m 

'/ ' 



ft 1. 

in your war ar - ray, 

Gen - ties and com - 



? 1/ 

Come a - way, come 

a - way, 

V I v P 



v N P 




A \> k i 


I l> 

^ J 

J^ II 

k. ! 

\hP 2 [<_ 

G F « 

■ T I 

. J — **— — r — l 


^ J 

— g — b- 

m a 

* — 



Hark to the sum - mons ! Come in your war ar - ray, Gen - ties and com - mons. 

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, &c. 

Leave untended the herd, 

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

The bride at the altar. 
Leave the dear, 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 or Donuil Dhu." The air was long known under the name of " Loclriel'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 pibroch, 
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." 








Wilt thou be my dear - ie i When sor - row wrings thy gen - tie heart, O 





N- 2 *- 


wilt thou let me cheer thee ? 

By the treas-ures of my soul, That's the love I bear thee ! I 


P — >— ^ — g a 

-3 d a *—* 



swear and vow that on - ly thou 










On - ly thou, I swear and vow, 

Lassie, say thou lo'es me ; 

Or, if thou wilt not be my ain, 

Say na thou'lt refuse me ; 

If it wiuna, canna be, 

Thou, for thine, may choose me ; 



my dear - ie. 

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 Gow and Son's Collection, and in several others." See Museum Illustrations, vol. v. p. 416. 

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 Liversi," (Venice, 
1646.) The passage is as follows : — " Noi ancora possiamo connumerar tra nostri Jacopo life di Scozia, ehe non pur 
cose sacre compose in canto, ma trovb da se stesso una nuova musica lamentevole, e mesta, differente da tutte 1'altre. 
Nel che poi fe stato imitato da Carlo Gesualdo, principe di Venosa, ehe 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 com- 
position 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 illustrated music by new and wonderful inventions." We add 
only a few words to set the matter at rest. Carlo Gesualdo, Prince of Venosa iu the Neapolitan States, was a remark- 
able 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 eman- 
cipate himself from the fetters of the old ecclesiastical tonalities and harmonies, which, till then, had confined the 
musical genius of all Europe to an 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. 




: 63 












O wa - ly,' wa - ly up the bank, And wa - ly, wa - ly 



5E=!=»^ : 





down the brae, And wa - ly, wa - ly yon burn-side, Where I and my love wont to gae! 

J ». 


■J 8 - 

-^-bf - 




I lean'd my back un - to an aik, I thocht it was a trus - ty tree; But 




first it bow'd, an' syne it brak : An' sae did my true love to me. 

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' 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. 2 Dress, arrange, adorn. 

'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 lock'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 ! 

3 Crimson. 

" waly, walt." In Mr. Robert Chambers's 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 circumstance in 
the life of Queen Mary, or at least to some unfortunate love affair 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 Cambridge, (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 

Jf some malignant scandals which a former and disappointed lover, Lowrie of Blackwood, was so base as to insinuate 
Ito 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 sim- 
plicity of the original has been spoiled by several flourishes introduced into it by tasteless and ignorant collectors. 
M'Gibbon, Oswald, Bremner, and others, have much to answer for in the matter of pseudo-embellishment of our finest 
old airs. We have removed from " Waly, waly," the absurd trappings hung about its neck by these men. 




r 5 





f¥f^f fm ^r=r=Fr=f=z 



Where are the joys I have 

in the morn - ing, That 





danced to the lark's ear - ly 

song ! 

Where is the peace that 



-f—j — *- 

wait - ed my wan - d'ring At eve - ning, the wild woods a - mong? 

The last stanza may be omitted. 

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 valleys, 

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 Jennie, fair Jennie, 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.] 

" are the Joys I have met in the Mornino?" 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 

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' Johnnie'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 Johnnie 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 Johnnie true ! 
I have nae time to tell, but sae lang's I like mysel, 

Sae lang sail I like you. 

Flee up, nee 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 au hour owre soon : 
The lassie thocht it day when she sent her love away, 

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




» r,:; 




■ W=±: 


? — " — ^= ^=- 

sweet are thy 


bon - nie 





-eg '-: 




sweet - er the mays' wha there bide; But sweet - est 


is the 












She's brown as the 

lass Wha hauds fast my heart on Tweed - side ! 

^ps^g ^f^ i ^P i 


ff »- 

ha - zel nut ripe ; She's grace - fu' as young birk - en tree ; Her 





smile's like the glint o' spring dawn, 'Boon 

she is dear - est to 

I woo'd her when pnii-tith's cauld hand 
Lay sair on hersel' an' her kin ; 

But though I had plenty o' gear, 
She ay said, " My tocher's to win !" 

sweet are thy banks, bonnie Tweed ! 

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

Wha hauds fast my heart on Tweedside ! 

1 Miiids. 

" Twef.d?ide." The composer of this old and beautiful Scottish melody is unknown. Some persons, upon no founda- 
tion 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 oif 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. 8 : — 

" When wilt thou teach our soft iEidian [Edinian ?] fair 
To languish at. a false Sicilian air ; 
Or when some tender tune compose again, 
And cheat the town wi' David Kizo's name 1" 

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 composi- 
tions 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 Cumming 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's own 
compositions want the simplicity of the old airs, and do not rise above mediocrity. Consequently, 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. 12 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. 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. 











poor - tith' cauld, an' rest - less love, Ye wreck my peace be ■ 






tween ye ; 

Yet puir-tith a' I could for - gi'e, An' 'twere na for my 




d . d ^~ *- 

Jean - ie. O, why should fate sic plea - sure have, Life's dear - est bands un • 







twin-ing? Or why sae sweet a flower as love De - pend on For- tune's shin - ing ? 

This world's wealth when I think i 
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, &o. 

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. 

Her een, sae bonnie blue, betray 
How she repays my passion ; 

But prudence is her owerword 3 aye. 
She talks of rank an' fashion. 
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. 5 
0, why should fate, &c. 

1 Poverty. - Rest, remainder. a Any word frequently repeated in conversation or otherwise. 4 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, PttiETiTH CAUi-t), and restless LovB." 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 rnair," 
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 unsenti- 
mental poetry. The meeting, I have been further informed, where this circumstance took place, was held in Johnnie 
Bowie'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 " 















las - sie, 

Fair though the 


las - sie be ; 



weel ken I my 

las - sie, 

Kind love is 


in her e'e. 

a form, I 

face, Ye weel may wi' 








kind love that*9 

fair - est place; It wants to me the witch - in' grace, The 

The succeeding verses begin with the Second Part of the Air, and end with the First Part. 

She's bonnie, bloomin', straight, and tall, A thief sae pawkie 1 is my Jean; 

An' lang has had my heart in thrall ; She'll steal a blink by a' unseen ; 

An' aye it charms my very saul, But gleg 2 as light are lover's een, 

The kind love that's in her e'e. When kind love is in the e'e. 

this is no my ain lassie, &c. this is no my ain lassie, &o. 

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. 
i Cunning, isly. ■ Sharp, ready. 

-#■ -4- 

in her e'e. 

" 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 Relics, 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. Asa vocal air, it is much preferable 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, p. 16, 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 reverently 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; 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 recognised 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 continuing 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.) 






&B^=£E*f =£=* 




O love will ven - ture in where it daur - na weel be seen ; O 

poco riteii. 






love will ven-ture in where wis - dom ance has been; But I wilt doun yon ri - ver rove, a 

poco riten. 




: ?=f t 



ain dear May. 

mang the woods sae green, And 

to pu' a po - sie to my 

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 its like a baulmy kiss o' her sweet bonnie niou ; 
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 fail-, 
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' its locks o' siller grey, 
Where, like an aged man, it stands at break o' day ; 
But the songster's nest within the bush I winua 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, 
Aud 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 Thom- 
son, 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 " Roslin Castle," which he wrongly imagined that James Oswald had 
composed. See Note on " Roslin Castle," page 8 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 exqui- 
site ; 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. 

l jj a ij. ' The open field. 



» = % 




Will ye go, las - sie, 


To tbe braes o' Bal - quhid-der? "Where the 



blae - ber - ries grow, 'Mang the 

bon - nie bloom - ing 

hea - ther ; Where the 





deer and the rae, Light - ly bound - ing to - ge - ther, Sport the lang sum - mer 

piu animato. 







day, 'Mang the braes o' Bal - quhid-der. Will ye go, las - sie, go, To the 

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— |V 

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braes o' Bal - quhidder? Where the blae - ber - rres grow, 'Mang the bon - nie bloom -ing hea-ther. 

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 tbe 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. 

1 A shepherd's cottage; a hut. 

" The Bkaes o' Balquuiddeu." This song was written by Kobert 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 celebrated modern poet, in prosperous circum- 
stances, 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." 




J— * 






A wee bird cam' to our ha' door, He war - bled sweet an' 

g ff BS 





clear - ly, An' aye the o'er -come o' his sang Was"Wa'esme for Prince Char-lie!" Oh! 








when I heard the bon - nie, bon - nie bird, The tears cam' drap - pin' rare - ly, I 






took my bon - net aff my liead, For weel I lo'ed Prince Char - lie. 

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 and sorrow?" 
" Oh ! no, no, no," the wee bird sang, 

" I've 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 yonr 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 iairly, 
But weel I mind the farewcel strain 

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

1 Lilt — tune. 

" Wae's me foe 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. 



► = 138 







love she's but 


las - sie yet, 

A light -some love - ly 


^— *__ fc 







* *- 

las - sie yet ; It scarce wad do To sit an' woo Down by the stream sae glas - sy yet. 


m ^^^ i^mm^sm 



But there's a braw' time com - ing yet, When we may gang 2 a roam - in' yet ; An' 




£fe g*g=-= g==S=jE^ 

hint \vi' glee O' joys to be, When fa's the mo - dest gloam - in' yet. 

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 6 lassie yet. 
But her artless smile's mair sweet 
Than hinny or than marmalete ;' 

An' right or wrang, 

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

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 1 see 

Are nought to me, 
Save her thafs but a lassie yet ! 

1 Fine. - Go. 

6 Looking, or smiling kindly. 

3 Large, expanded. 
* Thoughtlessly playful. 

* Shyly gamboling ; dodging 
" 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 pub- 
lished 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 parliament 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 Kuthven, Gover- 
nor of Edinburgh Castle, in scorn of the Lords and the Covenanters, for surrendering their strongholds.' " 



' = 108 


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is past, and the sum - mer comes at last, And the 









small birds sing on ev' 


ev' - ry thing is glad, while 

* J- •" 




sad ; 

For my 

true love is 


ed from 

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 Com- 
panion, 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 Royal, 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 Hues of this song, as given in this work, are taken from the fragment published by Cromek. They 
contain the alterations made by Burns upon the older song, which are improvements, as will be perceived upon com- 
paring 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 cor- 
responding lines in R. A. Smith's " Scottish Minstrel," which are certainly better than the following doggerel :— 
" 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 dotb 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." 



p = cj 







Will ye go to the ewe - bughts, Ma - rion, And wear' in the sheep wi' 





3 F^=F 




me? The sun shines sweet, my Ma - rion, But nae half sae sweet as 








thee ! The sun shines sweet, my 

Ma - rion, But nae half sae sweet as thee ! 

Marion's a bonnie lass, 

And the blythe blink's in her c'e; 

Ami fain would I marry Marion, 
Gin Marion would marry me. 

There's gowd in your garters, 2 Marion, 

And silk on your white hause-baue ; 
Fu' fain wad 1 kiss my 'Marion, 

At e'en, when I conic hame. 
There's braw lads in Earnslaw, Marion, 

Wha gape, and glow'r 3 wi' their e'e, 
At kirk, when they sec my Marion ; 

But nane o' them lo'es like me. 

I've nine milk-ewes, my Marion, 
A cow, and a brawny qney ; 1 

' To gather in with caution. 

,J " At tho timo when the Indies were hoops, they also wore finely 
hoop often sholvod aside, and exposed the leg to that height.' 
s Stare. * Heifer. * A home-tnudo woollen Btuff. 

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

And ye'se get a green scy 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 yc forsake me, Marion, 
I'll e'en gae draw up wi' Jean. 

Sao put on your pearlins, Marion, 

And kirtle o' the Cramasie :' 
And soon as the sun's down, my Marion, 

I shall come west, and see ye. 

embroidered garters for exhibition ; because, especially in dancing, the 
' — It. Chamdkbs. (See Traditions of Edinburgh, vol. ii. p. 57. 
1 Ornaments of lace, [Jil pcrU, hard twisted thread.) 7 Crimson. 

" Wnx ye go to THE KwK-nuanTS, Marion?" The song and the air appear to be both old. The song is marked 
in Kamsay'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 in two syllables, " Maron") is associated with short and jerking notes, which, 
besides being ill suited to the words, force tho 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 melo- 
dies in MS. books, we are prepared to prove from the oldest MSS. of our airs existing. In many cases appears 
barring at random, without tho slightest regard to the true rhythm and melodic structure of the airs ; and with no 
indication whatever of tho 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 tabla- 
tured, 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 Caledonius, (1733,) we find an air under the title of " Will 
ye go to the ewc-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 transforma- 
tions. 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. 



P = 72 

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IL J* " l J- 

ALLEGRETTO V ^ j T~~7 T I - 


-»— - 


Dun - can Gray cam' here to woo, Ha, lia, the 




woo - ing o"t ; On blythe Yule night, when we were fu',' 


Ha, ha, tlic 


-^H g - 

woo - ing o't. 

Mag - gie coost 3 her head fu' 3 heigh, 4 Look'd a - sklent/' and 






un - co G skeigh, 7 Gart 8 poor Dun - can stand a - beigh f Ma. lia, tlie woo - ing o't. 

Duncan fleech'd, 10 and Duncan pvay'd. 

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

Ha, ha, the wooing o't. 
Duncan sigli'd baith out and in, 
Grat 1! his een baith bleer'd" and blin', 14 
Spak' o' lowpin' 16 o'er a linn, 1 " 

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 e'en, they spak' sic tilings ! 

Ha, lia, the wooing o't. 

Time and chance are but a tide, 
Ha, ha, the wooing o't, 

Slighted love is sair" to bide, 18 
Ha, lia, the wooing o't. 

Shall I, like a fool, quo' he, 

For a haughty hizzie ' 9 die ? 

She may gae to — France for me ! 
Ha, iia, 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 50 his wrath ; 
Now they're crouse 21 and canty 2 - baith 

Ha, ha, the wooing o't. 

1 Tipsy. '- Cast. : > Full. 1 High. Askance. fl Very. 

7 Proud ; saucy. 8 Made ; furced. 9 At a shy distance. 10 Supplicated flatteringly. 

11 A remarkably large and lofty rock, rising in the firth of Clyde, between the coasts of Ayrshire and Kintyre. l - Wept. 

■ 3 Bleared. "Blind. "Leaping. »<> A waterfall ; a precipice. 17 Sore: painful. 

18 Bear ; endure. w A young girl. *> Smothered. 21 Cheerful.. "Merry. 

" Duncan Ghay." " 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 Collec- 
tions." See Museum Illustrations, vol. ii. page 148. The words given in this work are those written by Burns in 
December 17'.l2. 






A1K, "THE MILL, MILL, 0.' 




- I i r+ * - 




When wild war's dead - ly 

blast was blawn, And 








-0 — 

- **-+-*■ 

gen - tie peace re - turn - ing, Wi' mo - ny a sweet babe t'a - ther - less, And 







r*rr— ^ 


mo ny a wi - dow 


mourn - mg : 

left the lines and 

p- ; -F m- 



tent - ed field, Where lang I'd heen 



~m ^# — I — p-0-m = ^ *-= 


hum - ble knap - sack a' my wealth ; A poor and hon - est sod - ger. 

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' altered voice, quoth I, Sweet lass, 

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

That's dearest to thy bosom ! 
My purse is light, I've far to gang, 

And fain would be thy lodger, 
I've served my king and country lang : 

Talc' 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, 

Ye'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 wlld 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," iu 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. 




^qg=£a g^^^=g ^E!^ ^p 

glen, He*s the lung o' guid 2 fel - lows, and wale 3 o' auld 




men ; He has gowd* in his cof - fers, he has 

ow - sen 5 and 





kine, And ae bon - nie las - sie, his dar - ling and mine. 

She's fresh as the morning, the fairest in May ; 
She's sweet as the evening 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' 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 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. 
7 Must nut. 

2 Good. 
8 Death. 

3 Choice. 
9 Lone. 

* Gold. 
io Ghost. 

6 Oxen. 
" Would. 

e Father. 
12 Describing. 

"Auld Ron Monius." This air appears in tablature in the Leyden MS. Lyra- Viol Book, mentioned in the Note 
page 12 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 compass of 
voices, alluded to in Note page 9, 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. 



: 96 




John An - der - son, my jo, John, When we were first a 






quent, Your locks were like the 

ven, Your ben - nie brow was 

* — 3 •- 


brent;' But now your brow is beld, 2 John, Your locks are like the 




4— U- 

snaw, But bless - ings on your fros - ty pow, John An - der - son, my jo. 

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

And mony a canty 3 day, John, 
We've had wi' ane anither ; 

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. 

1 High, straight, smooth. 

-. Ilald. 

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 vague- 
ness 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 men- 
tions 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., who 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 additional 
6tanzas 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 produce of a great poet. 
Eurns has suffered much injustice of this kind. 




= 63 




lo'e na a lad - die hut 



| f N 




s — ^— — • — ^ — # 

lo'es na a las - sie but 

me ; 

Hes wil - lin' to niak' me his 

_« — #-- — g^-^— » 



am ; 

And his 



V — r- 


I am wil - lin' to 




? ? 

A J J J JlLLU i^g 

coft 1 me a roke-Iay 2 o' blue, And a pair o' mit - tens o' 

green ; He 



-* — *- 

vow'd that he'd e - ver be 

-p— e- 

— *<y — # ~ 

true ; And I plight - ed my troth yes 

Let ithers brag weel o' their gear, 3 

Their land and their lordly degree ; 
I carena 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, 

Tet see how he's dwining 5 wi' care ; 
Now we, though we've naething but health, 

Are cantie and leal evermair. 

" O 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 tync, 8 
Guard your 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 7 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. 

2 A short cloak. 

3 Riches ; goods. 

1 Epery. 

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 Daw- 
son.' If J. D. be the initial letters of the composer's name, Burns must have been misinformed. The four supple- 
mentary stanzas, beginning ' Let ithers brag weel o' their gear,' were composed by Hector Macneil, Esq., before 
noticed. Mr. Macneil told me this himself. The musical reader will easily observe a striking afifinity between the 
Scots air and the Irish tune called ' My lodging is on the cold ground.' " See Museum Illustrations, 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 nut to belong to ancient Scotland. 



' = 60 




Saw ye John - nie com - in' ? quo* she, Saw ye John -nie com - in'? 


: *=S 


- > > p - 

V—^— ft 


S ^JzO ^ 


Saw ye John-nie com - in' ? quo' she, Saw ye John - nie com - in' ? Wi' his blue bon - net 

\= ^=&^ =^ ^m^^m 



on his head, And his dog - gie rin - nin' 

his blue bon - net on his head. 




And his dog 

rin - nin'? quo' she, And his dog - gie rin 

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 hae 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 baud the plough, 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." — Burns' Beliques. 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 enclose 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 excel- 
lent 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 Illus- 
trations, 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 Orchestral 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 me forsaken, Jamie, 

Thou hast left me ever ; Thou hast me forsaken ; 

Thou hast left me ever, Jamie, Thou hast me forsaken, Jamie, 

Thou hast left me ever. Thou hast me forsaken. 

Aften hast thou vow'd that death Thou canst love anither jo, 

Only should us sever ; While my heart is breaking : 

Now thou'st left thy lass for aye — Soon my weary e'en I'll close, 

I maun see thee never, Jamie, Never mair to waken, Jamie, 

I'll see thee never. Ne'er mair to waken. 








* * *-~—0 V- — tr 


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





dear ; Thou art sweet as the smile when fond lo - vers meet ; 


sweet - cr for thee de 

spair - ing, Than aught in the world be - side, Jes - sie ! 

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 ! 

1 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 interpolation, 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 him 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 single note of 
the songs. That would be absurd, indeed ! With the airs which he introduces into the sonatas, 1 allow him to take 
such liberties as he pleases, but that has nothing to do with the songs." 










well, thou fair day, thou green earth, and ye skies, Now 








gay with the broad set - ting 


well, loves and friend -ships, ye 


# :? * 


^ 1. 




dear ten - der ties ! Our 

of ex - ist - ence 




grim king of ter - rors, thou life's gloomy foe, Go fright - en the eow-ard and slave ! Go 




— p- 






=?— i* 

teach them to trem-ble, fell ty-rant ! but know, No ter -rors hast thou for the 

brave ! 

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 ; 
While victory shines on life's last ebbing sands, 

Oh, who would not die with the brave ! 

" Okan an Aoig ; or, The Song 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 dyiDg 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 Oraii 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 Belgium," by James Grant, Esq., 
late 62d Regiment, we find two very remarkable passages, one of which relates to the air Oram, 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, 

1 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 forefathers have often heard it without 
shrinking.' ' Oran an Aoig V said the piper, raising his drones. The 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.' " For the real circumstances of Colonel Cameron's death 
at Waterloo, see letter from an officer (E. R.) in the United Service Magazine for June 1850. 

* Wherever this passage occurs, the upper notes may be sung, if the voice cannot reach the lower notes of the melody. 



• = 80 




I ! 







The news frae Moid - an cam' ye-streen, Will soon gar 1 mo - ny 

^ e — f >< 1- — R — ! — * -J — d — 


-■ * — *- 

fer - lie, 2 For ships o' war lia'e just come in, And land - ed Roy - al Char - lie ! 





J N 



Come through the hea-ther, A - round him ga- ther,Ye're a' the wel-com-er ear - ly, A> 




• 7 

< » — ^- 

round him cling wi' 


a' your kin, For wha'll be king but Char - lie ? Come 
ad lib. 





-F— •— F— »- 





through the hea-ther, A - round him ga-ther, Come Ronald, come Donald, come a' the - gi - ther, And 

a tempo. 

1 > "^-rV^ 




crown him right - fu', law - fu' king, For wha'll be king but Char - lie? 

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. 
i Make. 

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. 
8 Ask, inquire. 

" Wha'll de kino but 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 Ireland, 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, assimi- 
lating itself very much to the style 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 Strick- 
land, an English gentleman ; Kelly, an English clergyman ; ./Eneas Macdonald, a banker in Palis, brother to Kin- 
lochmoidart ; 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 circumstances 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 Eestuaries, which lies 
immediately to the north of the debouche of the great Glen of Albyn, now occupied by the Caledonian Canal." — 
Chambers' Bistort/ of the Rebellion o/1745. 



r 7i 




< F^F 


-•— r — »- 



tf - 


The wea - ry pund, the weary pund, The wea - ry pund o' 

] V 





W-i—0 — * 

tow ; I think ray wife will end her life, Be - fore she spin her 










# — 

bought my wife 


— r» 

stane o' lint, 

As gude as e'er did 

— N 1— k — -fc-J ^5 



- K £— | 

— F 

— ¥ — 

-t— M-- 

_J_|=^=£='_fci = 


grow ; And a' that she has made o' that Is ae poor pund o' 


*»> — s 



wea - ry pund, the wea-ry pund, The wea - ry pund 


*-r— •- 


tow ; I think my wife will end her life, Be - fore she spin her tow. 

There sat 1 a bottle in a bole, 2 
Beyont the ingle 3 low ; 4 

And ay she took the tither souk. 
To drouk 5 the stourie 6 tow. 
The weary pund, &c. 

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 ; 9 

And or I wad 10 anither jad, 
I'll wallop in a tow! 11 
The weary pund, &c. 

1 In Ayrshire, sit is generally used instead of stand. 
6 Dusty. 1 Head. s Went. 

2 A recess. 
» Hillock. 

a Fire. * Flame. 5 To moisten. 

10 E'er I wed. n Danyle in a rope. 

" The weary pund o' tow." The tune and the title of this song are from Oswald's Caledonian Pocket Companion, 
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. 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. 







EEJj^^gg ^gg^a 

EfE^E^3=l=ZS $E^ 

When o'er the hill the east - ern star Tells bught - in - time 1 is near, my jo; And 

ow - sen frae the fur - row'd field Re - turn sae dovvf 3 and wea - ry, O ; Down 




$£=$ £= &-- 


-* — *- 

by the burn, where scent - ed birks Wi' dew are hang - ing clear, my jo ; 









meet thee on the 

r 'g. 



dear - ie, 

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, ! 

1 The hour when the ewes are driven into the pen to be milked. 

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. 

2 Bull ; exhausted. 

4 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, Although the night were ne'er sae wat, 

My ain kind dearie, ; And I were ne'er sae weary, 0, 

I'll rowe thee o'er the lea-rig, I'll rowe thee o'er the lea-rig, 

My ain kind dearie, 0. 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 Mr. 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, 

Oh, but I'm wondrous eerie, : 
And mony a heavy sigh I gi'e, 

When absent frae my dearie, ; 
But seated 'neath the milk-white thorn, 

In ev'ning fair and dearie, 0, 
Enraptured, a' my cares I scorn, 

When wi' my kind dearie, 0. 

Whare through the birks the burnie rows, 

Aft ha'e I sat fu' cheerie, 0, 
Upon the bonnie greensward howcs, 

Wi' thee, my kind dearie, 0. 

I've courted till I've heard the craw 

Of honest chanticleerie, 0, 
Yet never miss'd my sleep ava, 

Whan wi' my kind dearie, 0. 

For though the night were ne'er sae dark, 

And I were ne'er sae weary, 0, t 

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 ? 

'Tis thee, my kind dearie, ! 



f = 72 








Lag - sie wi' the lint-white locks, Bon - nie las - sie, art - less las - sie ; 





Wilt thou wi' 

ne tent the flocks ? Wilt thou be my dear - ie, O ? 




na - ture deads the flow' - ry lea, And 

young and sweet like thee ; O 


i FS^B^ P^^ 

wilt thou share its joys wi' me? 


say thou'lt be my dear - ie, 








sie wi 

the lint - white locks ; Bon 



nie las 

— v- 

sie, art 

less las - sie ; 


Wilt thou wi' 

me tent the flocks ? Wilt thou be 


dear - ie, 



The succeeding verses begin at the sign :$: 

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 hnt-white looks." Burns, in a letter to George Thomson, September 1794, makes the following 
observations : — " I am sensible that my taste in music must be inelegant and vulgar, because people of 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 ' Kothemurche's Kant,' 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. 

* Rothiemurchus. 



= 108 

-. m 








lack of gold she's left me, O ! And of 

te5 F^F f 1 


all that's dear be - reft me, O ! For A - tholl's Duke she 




me for - sook, And to end - less care has left me, O ! 

-is— n-tk- — ■ — ^= c* ■ fi t r ^-^- f^ ^* 













star and gar - ter have more art Than youth, a true and faith - ful heart ; For 


W=i i 

emp - ty ti - ties we must part ; And for glit - t'ring show she's left me, O ! 

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 cure 
Commit my lovely, charming fair ; 
Your choicest blessings be her share, 
Though she's for ever left me, ! 

" Fok 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 17th September 1751, Miss 
Anne Sempill, sister of the Eight 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. 75 of this work. 













The mur - mur of the mer - ry brook, As, gush-ing - ly and free, It 


wim-ples, with its sun-bright look, Far down yon shelter'd lea, And hums to ev' - ry drow - sy flow'r A 





low quaint lul - la - by, Speaks to my spi - rit, at this hour, Of love and thee ! 

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,) 

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 !1 

[The stanzas within brackets may be omitted.] 

" TnE murmur op the merry BROOK." This song was written by William Motherwell, and was published in his 
Poems, Glasgow, 1 832. We have adapted it here to the melody of " 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 awn'? 

Oh ! were they a' true that were far awa' ? 

They drew up wi' glaiket 1 Englishers at Carlisle ha', 

And forgot auld Men'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. 














We'll meet be - side the dus - ky glen, on yon burn - side, Where the 




bush - es form a co - zie 1 den, on yon burn - side; Tho' the broom-y knowes 2 be green, Yet 
J ^-= 






there we may be seen ; But we'll meet, we'll meet at e'en, down by yon burn - side. 

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 siugin' clear, 
As on my arm ye lean, down by yon burn-side. 

Awa', ye rude unfeeling crew, frae yon burn-side ; 
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 bum-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 ain dear Jean ! down by yon burn-side. 

1 Warm, snug, well sheltered. 

! Hillocks. 

» Twilight. 

" We'll meet beside the dusky olen." 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 TannahilPs 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, (pub- 
lished 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 indicated 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 disadvantage ; 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 p. 74, 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 fol- 
lows : — " 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 communicated 
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 Companion." 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. 



= 84 






■* ft n. 

* —•— * 





tliere, for ho - nest po - ver - ty, That hangs his head, an' a' that ? The 


faUULj^^ g 



cow - ard-slave, we pass him by ; We dare be puir, for a' that. For 

that, and 







that, Our toils ob-scure, an' a' that, The rank is but the gui - nea-stamp ; The 

The first line ought to be sung thus ; — 


man's the gowd, for 


Is there, for ho - nest po - ver - ty, 


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, and a' that, 
The man of independent mind. 

He looks an' laughs at a' that. 

1 Cloth used by the peasantry, which has the natural colour of the wool. 
* Try ; attempt ; venture. 

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, 6 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. 

- A young fellow. 3 A simpleton ; a fool. 

e Pre-eminence ; 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 con- 
stitutional 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. Buring 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 Hlustrations, 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. 




1 = 126 



N SriKITO jt, , ft J 

PPO PKTtaTn T^i; | 0. 


-* *- 


The blair - in' trum - pet sound - ed far, And horse -men rode, weel 









graith'd 1 for war, While Sir John Cope march'd frae Dun - bar, Up - on a mis - ty 




-* d- 




morn - ing. Prince Char - lie, wi' his High - land host. Lay 



west - ward on the 

Lo - thian coast ; But John - nie bragg'd, wi' 




mo ny a boast, 


rout them ere neist 

morn - ing. 

Lang ere the cock proclaimed it day, 
The Prince's men stood in array ; 
And, though impatient for the fray, 

Bent low the knee that morning. 
When row-chic roll'd the English drum, 
The Highland bagpipe gi'ed a hum, 
And told the mountain Clans had come, 

Grim death and danger scorning. 

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. 

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. 

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 scorn'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 were written by the late Captain Charles Gray, R M. 



= 80 



V i ft 



N _. . 


CON -, 










r m 




_ * 

Lit o 








Why should I, 

brisk young las - sie, Be 

forced to wed 







feck - less 1 auld man ? Hoast - in' 2 an* hirp - Iin', 3 a 

ter 4 bo - die ! I'll 


~|> \ 


» r 


die far ra - ther than gi'e him my han' ! Kirk or mar - ket, aye he fol - lows me, 





pin', glow - rin', 5 


I'd fain, ban ! 6 

Then at our in - gle - neuk 7 


ilk - a day hav' - rin'; 8 I'll 



ra - ther than 

■i'e him my han' t 

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 die 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 ! 

1 Feehla ' Coughing. 8 Limping. 

6 Execrate. " Chimney-corner ; fireside. 

i Cripple. 

8 Talking foolishly. 

5 Staring. 
» Deafen 

" Why should I, a brisk 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 him- 
self, 1841, the following passage occurs : — ' Those occasional breaches of the laws of rhythm, which the task of adapt- 
ing 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 wild- 
ness 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 remembr 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 soDgs 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 seiiora. No me mordades agora." On this he makes the following obser- 
vation—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." 




» = 6R 






*— ar 





Though a' the leaves o' ray bon - nie bow'r, That my lad - die wove, now be 






fa - ded, And by the breez - es scat-ter'd o'er The scene they sae late - ly shad - ed. 










still a - round this mos - sy seat, Where sae af - ten we sat in the gloam - in', The 

|l gfep il §^#lg##i^ i 


bon - nie blue for - get - me - not, In a' its beau - ty is bloom - in'. He 


p— = £jS-v 



F- r 


L -* * — ' — I ' — a — 


plant -ed it here, the joy - less morn That brought the day we part - ed ; And 






said it would fade not till his re - turn, If still I prov'd faith-fu' - heart - ed. 

My heart still is true, and it shares my sigh. 
When the breeze has ceased frae blawing, 

And it drinks oft a drop frae this lonely eye, 
When nae dews frae heaven are fa'ing. 

But his heart may be here, though his step be far 
On the wilds o' the glens and moorlands, 

While he thinks on the times when ho wove for my hair, 
0' the boughs and the blossoms the garlands : 

And the bonnie, bonnie blue forget-me-not, 
Shall spread not its leaves to lose them, 

Till twined wi' my locks, on this blessed spot, 
It fade on his beating bosom. 

" The Faded Bower." Air, "Sour plums in Galashiels." The old title, says Burns, was probably the beginning 
of a song to this air, which is now lost. The tune of Galashiels was composed about the beginning of last century, 
1700, by the laird of Galashiels' piper; and Mr. Cromek adds, that the piper of Galashiels was the subject of an 
unpublished mock-heroic poem by Hamilton of Bangour. — Rdiques. In the Additional Illustrations to the Museum, 
Mr. Laing of the Signet Library gives a portion of a Journal kept by Alexander Campbell, the editor of Albyn's 
Anthology, when on a Border tour in 1816, for the purpose of collecting local tunes. This contains notices of the best 
Border pipers of the eighteenth century, taken down from the conversation of Mr. Thomas Scott, (the uncle of Sir 
Walter Scott,) who was himself a skilful performer on the Lowland or bellows pipe. One of these was Donald Mac- 
lean of Galashiels, " a capital piper, and the only one who could play on the pipe the old popular tune of ' Sour plums 
of Galashiels,' it requiring a peculiar art of pinching the back-note of the chanter with the thumb, to produce the 
higher notes of the melody in question." Sir Walter Scott records, that his uncle, Thomas Scott, died in 1823, aged 
90. He, " being a great musician on the Scotch pipes, had, when on his death-bed, a favourite tune played over to 
him by his son James, that he might be sure he left him in full possession of it. After hearing it, he hummed it over 
himself, and corrected it in several of the notes. The air was called, Sour plums in Galashiels." — Lockhart's Life of 
Scott, vol. i. This old tune first appears in the Orpheus Caledonius, 1725. 

The old words, beginning, " Ah, the poor shepherd's mournful fate," were written by Hamilton of Bangour, and 
published by Ramsay in his Tea-Table Miscellany in 1725. The verses which we have adopted for this work were 
written by the Rev. Henry Scott Riddell, and are here published by his express permission. 









Si T* — ' 






banks and 



nie Doon, 





can ye bloom sae fresh and fair; How can ye chant, ye lit - tie birds, And 




> — =1= 



Ye'll break my heart, ye 

ritenuto. ^ a tempo. 





: ^ 


warb - ling birds, That 


ton through the 


-v — *-=- 

ry thorn ; Ye 








part - ed joys, 


part - ed 

to re - turn. 

Oft ha'e I roved by bonnie Doon, 

To see the rose and woodbine twine ; 
And ilka bird sang o' its love, 

And fondly sae did I o' mine. 
VVi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose, 

Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree ; 
But my fause lover stole my rose, 

And ah ! he left the thorn wi' me. 

" Ye Banks and Braes o' Bonnie Doon." In a letter to Mr. Thomson, November 1794, Burns says, " There is an 
air, ' The Caledonian Hunt's Delight,' to which I wrote a song that you will find in Johnson — ' Ye banks and braes 
o' bonnie Doon ;' this air, I think, might find a place among your hundred, as Lear says of his knights. Do you 
know the history of the air? It is curious enough. A good many years ago, Mr. James Miller, writer in your good 
town, a gentleman whom possibly you know, was in company with our friend Clarke ; and talking of Scottish music, 
Miller expressed an ardent ambition to be able to compose a Scots air. Mr. Clarke, partly by way of joke, told him 
to keep to the black keys of the harpsichord, and preserve some kind of rhythm, and he would infallibly compose a 
Scots air. Certain it is, that, in a few days, Mr. Miller produced the rudiments of an air, which Mr. Clarke, with 
some touches and corrections, fashioned into the tune in question. Ritson, you know, has the same story of the black 
keys; but this account which I have just given you, Mr. Clarke informed me of several years ago. Now, to show you 
how difficult it is to trace the origin of our airs, I have heard it repeatedly asserted that this was an Irish air ; nay, I 
met with an Irish gentleman who affirmed he had heard it in Ireland among the old women ; while, on the other 
hand, a Countess informed me, that the first person who introduced the air into this country was a baronet's lady of 
her acquaintance, who took down the notes from an itinerant piper in the Isle of Man. How difficult then to ascer- 
tain the truth respecting our poesy and music ! I, myself, have lately seen a couple of ballads sung through the 
streets of Dumfries, with my name at the head of them as the author, though it was the first time I had ever seen 
them." Very recently the publishers met with a sheet song, entitled, "List! list to my story," published without 
imprint about 1801, as the water-mark on the paper shows, and on which " Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon" is 
stated to be an Irish air. 

Another and an earlier version of this song was found by Cromek among Burns' papers, and was admitted into the 
" Reliques." It is even more simple and touching than the altered version ; and it is said that whenever the genius 
of Burns was a topic of conversation, Cromek used to descant on the exquisite simplicity and force of his sentiments 
and language, and generally instanced the last two verses of the first copy of " The banks o' Doon," as a fine speci- 
men of his natural powers. See Cunningham's Burns, vol. iv. p. 245. 



' = 60 




j*=i — • — ;=" z± 



worth could 


my heart, You 

m= j==t& 


would not speak in 

But in the dark - some 

m P-^— #- 


W #— = — F 1 1 — \- 

tz=~f ^— *— at 

» •— F- : 



bz*— t 

grave 'tis laid, Ne'er, ne'er to rise a - gain. My wae - fu' heart lies 

oh ! what a heart was that to lose ; But I maun no re - pine. 

Yet, oh ! gin heaven in mercy soon 

Would grant the boon I crave, 
And take this life, now naething worth, 

Sin' Jamie's in his grave ! 
And see ! his gentle spirit comes, 

To show me on my way ; 
Surprised, nae doubt, I still am here, 

Sair wondering at my stay. 

I come, I come, my Jamie dear, 

And, oh, wi' what gude will 
I follow, wheresoe'er ye lead ! 

Ye canna lead to ill ! — 
She said, and soon a deadly pale 

Her faded cheek possess'd ; 
Her waefu' heart forgot to beat ; 

Her sorrows sunk to rest. 

" The Waefu' Heart." Mr. Stenhouse's Note on this air is as follows : — " Both the words and music of this ele- 
gant and pathetic song were taken from a single sheet, printed at London about the year 1788, and sold by Joseph 
Dale, No. 19, Cornhill, ' sting by Master Knvvett.' From these circumstances, I am led to conclude that it is a 
modern Anglo-Scottish production, especially as it does not appear in any of the old collections of our songs. If it be 
an imitation of the Scottish style, however, it is a very successful one." See Museum Illustrations, vol. iii. p. 228. 
Patrick Maxwell, Esq., the editor of the Poetical Works of Miss Susanna Blamire, the "Muse of Cumberland," (Edin- 
burgh, 1842.) has no doubt that she was the authoress of " The Waefu' Heart." He says, " Having long had a settled 
conviction in my mind that the writer of ' The Siller Crown' was also the writer of ' The Waefu' Heart ;' and having 
ascertained beyond a doubt that the first-mentioned song was the production of Miss Blamire, I thought it would be 
useful to print the songs together, the better to examine their styles, and to see how closely they resembled each 
other in sentiment and expression. I think it cannot fail to strike every one, that the second song is a continuation 
of the first; had the 'Jamie' of the latter but been the 'Donald' of the former, the likeness would have been perfect," 
&c. See " Memoir of Miss Blamire," pp. xl. xli. et seq. 




» = 84 







O Ma - ry, at thy win - dow be ; It is the wish'd, the 

"» ~»~ 

tryst -ed 1 hour: Those smiles and glan - ees let me see, That make the mi - ser's trea - sure poor. 










How blythe - ly wad I bide the atoure, 2 A wea - ry slave frae sun to sun, Could 
-N— T*. z — r—i — I m-. — 0— ■ = jV 



-^ 91 

I the rich re - ward se - cure, The love - ly Ma - ry Mo - ri - son. 

Yestreen, when to the stented 3 string, 

The dance gaed through the lichtit ha', 
To thee my fancy took its wing — 

I sat, but neither heard nor saw. 
Though this was fair, and that was braw, 

And yon the toast o' a' the town, 
I sigli'd, and said amang them a', 

Ye are na Mary Morison. 

0, Mary, canst thou wreck his peace, 

Wha for thy sake wad gladly dee? 
Or canst thou break that heart of his, 

Whase only faut is loving thee ? 
If love for love thou wilt na gi'e, 

At least be pity to me shown, 
A thocht ungentle canna be 

The thocht of Mary Morison. 

1 Appointed; agreed upon. 2 Dust; metaphorically — labour, hardship. 

3 Tighlened. — In some editions " trembling'* is substituted for " stented." 

" Mary Morison." In Johnson's Museum the air is called " The Miller ;" and is there given with verses written 
by Sir John Clerk of Pennycuick, Bart., one of the Barons of the Court of Exchequer in Scotland, and a man of 
remarkable learning and accomplishments in his day. One of his younger sons was John Clerk of Eldin, Esq., dis- 
tinguished for his work on " Naval Tactics," and the father of the late Lord Eldin, an eminent Scottish lawyer. See 
Museum Illustrations, vol. ii. pp. 120, 203. The humorous verses by Sir John Clerk do not appear to us to be very 
suitable to the air, which is in a minor key, and of a tender and rather pathetic character. We have therefore sub- 
stituted for them the words by Burns, which begin, " Mary, at thy window be," and which were, as he says, " one 
of his juvenile works." He had written them to the air of" Bide ye yet;" and we think his having done so exhibits 
one of the very rare instances in which Burns did not perceive that the air was not well suited to the words that he 
wrote for it. The air of " The Miller," on the contrary, is well adapted to the song of" Mary Morison." 

The author of the air is not known. Its date seems to belong to a period not earlier than the commencement of the 
last century. Captain Charles Gray, R.M., in his " Cursory Remarks on Scottish Song," introduces " Mary Morison" 
as follows : — " The late William Hazlitt, who wrote many works on the belles lettres, pays a high compliment to the 
genius of Burns, in his ' Lectures on the British Poets.' The passage has often been quoted, but as the memories of 
all the admirers of our Bard may not be so good as our own, we may be pardoned if we quote it again. ' Of all the 
productions of Burns, the pathetic and serious love-songs which he has left behind him, in the manner of the old 
ballads, are perhaps those which take the deepest and most lasting hold of the mind. Such as the lines on " Mary 
Morison," those entitled, "Jessie," and the song beginning, "Oh, my love is like a red, red rose."' Now, it so 
happens that ' My love,' &c, is an old ballad, which proves the discernment of Hazlitt as a critic." 



• = 72 




a bo - dy meet a bo - dy com - in' thro' the rye, 

I— j_ — ji-^-i-rV ■ — >-= 

Gin a bo - dy kiss 2 a bo - dy, Need a bo - dy cry? Ilk - a 3 las - sie lias ber lad-die, 

riten. T< . a tempo. 


r-d— a/^r— *- 






r- ■ y—r— — ■sa — ■=- ■ *" . - *"' * 

Nane, they say, ha'e I ! Yet a' the lads they smile at me, When com - in' thro' the rye. 

Gin a body meet a body 

Comin' frae the well. 
Gin a body kiss a body, 

Need a body tell ? 
Ilka lassie has her laddie, 

Ne'er a ane ha'e I ; 
But a' the lads they smile on me 

When comin' thro' the rye. 

Gin a body meet a body 

Comin' frae the town, 
Gin a body greet a body, 

Need a body gloom ? 
Ilka lassie has her laddie, 

Nane they say ha'e I ; 
But a' the lads they lo'e me wecl. 

And what the waur am I? 

Miss Stephens was accustomed to conclude the song with the following lines sung to the first part of the air :- 

Amang the train there is a swain 

I dearly lo'e mysel' ; 
But whaur his hame, or what his name, 

I dinna care to tell. 

i If. 

2 Often sung " greet" 

3 Each ; every. 

" Comin' thro' the Rye." There are three versions of this air inserted in Johnson's Museum, the first of which 
was probably communicated by Burns. As the second is the most popular, as well as the most characteristic, we 
have adopted it in this work. Mr. Stenhouse's Notes upon them are as follows : — " 1st Set. This song was written 
by Burns. The air is taken from the third and fourth strains of the strathspey called ' The Miller's Daughter.' See 
Gow's First Collection." — "I'd Set. The words and music of this song, beginning, ' Gin a body meet a body,' are 
parodied from the first set, which was published as a single sheet song before it was copied into the Museum. Mr. 
John Watlen, musician and music-seller, formerly in Edinburgh, now in London, afterwards altered the first strain of 
the former tune a little, and published it with the new words. His edition had a considerable run." The third 
version is adapted to the words, " I've been courting at a lass, these twenty days and rnair." It bears a striking 
resemblance to the others ; but is styled by Mr. Stenhouse, " Ah, ha ! Johnnie, lad, you're nae sae kind's ye sud ha' 
been." See Museum Illustrations, vol. v. p. 377. 

The following stanzas are very frequently sung to this air ; they were written by Mr. Duulop, Collector of Customs, 
Port-Glasgow : — 

Oh ! dinna ask me gin I lo'e thee ; 

Troth, I daurna tell : 
Dinna ask me gin 1 lo'e ye ; 

Ask it o' ybursel'. 
Oh ! dinna look sae sair at me, 

For weel ye ken me true ; 
0, gin ye look sae sair at me, 

I daurna look at you. 

When ye gang to yon braw, braw town, 

And bonnier lasses see, 
0, dinna, Jamie, look at them, 

Lest you should mind na me. 
For I could never bide the lass 

That ye'd lo'e mair than me ; 
And 0, I'm sure, my heart would break, 

Gin ye'd prove false to me. 





DOLOKOSO. ~t^B~ ft 







fair and fause that caus - es my smart, I 


lo'ed her meikle. and lang ; She's bro - ken her vow, she's bro - ken my heart, And 


7 s 




— •*-. — 





P-1 K 


coof 1 cam' in 

— r^ — s — r~ 



P a 


— # — 

=^J f— 

-r — r— 

— J-J — ^-j- 

— -* 


t- £ 



• • 

-■■J L/ 

» « 




^ </ 


routh 3 o' gear, 3 And 



dear - est dear; But 


wo - man is but warld's g ear ? Sae let the bon-nie lass 


Whae'er ye be that woman love, 

To this be never blind, 
Nae ferlie 6 'tis tho' fickle she prove, 

A woman has't by kind. 

woman lovely ! woman fair ! 
An angel form's fa'n to thy share, 
'Twad been o'er meikle to [ha'e] gi'en thee mair- 
I mean an angel mind. 

1 Tool. 

; Plenty. 

3 Riches ; goods. 

5 Wonder. 

" She's fair ano fause." Mr. Stenhouse informs us, that " Burns picked up this charming old melody in the 
country, and wrote the verses to which it is so happily adapted in the Museum." See Museum Illustrations, vol. iv. 
p. 359. We have no doubt that this was the case, for Burns, as we have already had occasion to remark, was very 
successful in recovering old melodies that were but little known, and at once giving them a more extended circulation, 
by writing songs for them. In this instance, however, Oswald had already rescued the air from oblivion, by printing 
it in his Caledonian Pocket Companion, book iv., where it appears under the title of " The lads of Leith." In the first 
stanza of the song, the repetition of the word "gear" in rhyme is rather a blemish. 

In his " Cursory Remarks on Scottish Song," No. 3, Captain Charles Gray, R.M., quotes Burns regarding " A Col- 
lection of Songs:" — " That volume was my vade meenm. I pored over them during my work, or walking to my 
labour, song by song, verse by verse— carefully noticing the true tender or sublime, from affectation or fustian ; and 
I am convinced, that I owe to this practice most of my critic-craft, such as it is." Captain Gray thinks that this 
Collection of Songs, so much studied by Burns, was most probably the first or second edition of the " Scots Nightin- 
gale ;" the second edition, " with one hundred modern songs," having been printed in 1779. Captain Gray gives 
reasons for his opinion by quotations ; and, among others, quotes from the " Scots Nightingale," " The Address ;" the 
last four lines of which seem to have suggested to Burns a striking idea in his song, '.' She's fair and fause." 

The fotir last lines of the " Address" are — 

" To bless is Heaven's peculiar grace ; 
Let me a blessing find : 
And since you wear an angel's face, 
Oh show an angel's mind ! " 
Burns, doubtless, borrowed the idea; but he improved it, as his verses shew. Chaucer, Shakespeare, Milton, and 
other great poets, were great borrowers — improving upon the ideas they adopted from others. The first poet who 
borrowed nothing from any one is yet unknown. In No. 4 of his Remarks, Captain Gray mentions another book,— 
" The Lark, being a Collection of the most celebrated and newest Songs, Scots and English, 1765," — which also con- 
tains " The Address" above quoted ; and thence infers, that " The Lark" may, still more probably, have been the 
Collection referred to by Burns. 



' = 100 





Wha wad - na fight for Char - lie? 


wad - na draw the sword ? 




Wha wad 

na up 

and ral - ly, 


the roy - al Prin - ce's word I 


+* — f~- — b f 



Think on Soo - tia'3 an - cient he - roes, Think on 

reign foes 

re - pell'd, 



Think on glo - rious Bruce and Wal - lace, Who the proud u - surp - ers quell'd. 

■ m — • a ■- 



wad - na fight for Char - lie? Wha wad - La draw the sword! 

m . ^ * * * — 







na up and ral - ly, 

At the roy - al Prin - ce's word ? 

Rouse, rouse, ye kilted warriors ! 

Rouse, ye heroes of the north ! 
Rouse, and join your chieftain's banners — 

"i'is your Prince that leads you forth ! 
Shall we basely crouch to tyrants ? 

Shall we own a foreign sway? 
Shall a royal Stuart be banish'd, 

While a stranger rules the day ? 
Wha wadna fight, &c. 

See the northern clans advancing ! 

See Glengarry and Lochiel ! 
See the brandish'd broadswords glancing !— 

Highland hearts are true as steel ! 
Now our Prince has raised his banner, 

Now triumphant is our cause, 
Now the Scottish lion rallies — 

Let us strike for Prince and laws. 
Wha wadna fight, &c. 

" Wha wadna fight fok Charlie ?" James Hogg gives this song and air in the second series of his " Jacobite 
Relics of Scotland," pp. 100, 101 ; Edinburgh, William Blackwood ; London, Cadell and Davies. 1821. Hogg's 
Note upon it, ibid. p. 305, is as follows :— " Song LIV. ' Wha wadna fight for Charlie?' is likewise a Buchan song, 
sent me by Mr. John Wallace. The air has the same name; but in the south is called, ' Will ye go and mairy, 
Katie?' " The air is evidently a strathspey. It is printed in Johnson's Museum, vol. v., with the words, " Will ye 
go and marry, Katie?" which appear to have been recovered and sent to the publisher of that work by Burns. In 
Gow's Second Collection of Strathspeys and Reels, it is called, " Marry Ketty." 

Hogg does not say whether this lyric was sent to him as a real Jacobite war-song, written to rouse the clans to 
follow their Prince into the field, or whether it is merely a modern imitation. Internal evidence would lead us to the 
belief that its composition dates much nearer to 1845 than to 1745. To be an old song, it is too correct in rhymes, too 
refined in language, and it wants that characteristic of the Jacobite muse—unsparing abuse of the House of Hanover. 










It was in and a- bout the Mart' - mas time, When the green leaves were a 








fall - in', That Sir John Groeme, in the west coun - try, Fell in love wi' Bar - b'ra 





- Ian. 



his man 


thro' the town, To the 

place where she 



J. -4 


I lil 

< 1 : 

1 1 


! . 

. J 


i K c 

\ i IS ^ 


T - >-» « .J 

J * 

V J 9 4 

^ 1 nl ! o 





J J S , 

• ' a 

J a ' ■ 


4 • 

ar- • 

dwall-in': O, haste and come to my mas - ter dear, Gin ye be Bar - b'ra Al - Ian. 

0, hooly, 1 hooly, rase she up 

To the place where he was lyin', 
And when she drew the curtain by — 

Young man, 1 think ye're dyin'. 

It's oh, I'm sick, I'm very very sick, 

And it's a' for Barbara Allan. 
0, the better for me ye'se never be, 

Though your heart's blude were a spillin'. 

Oh, dinna ye mind, young man, she said, 
When the red wine ye were fillin'. 

That ye made the healths gae round and round, 
And slichtit Barbara Allan ? 

He turn'd his face unto the wa', 
And death was with him dealin' : 

1 Slowly. 

Adieu, adieu, my dear friends a', 
And be kind to Barbara Allan. 

And slowly, slowly rase she up, 
And slowly, slowly left him. 

And sighin', said, she could not stay, 
Since death of life had reft him. 

She hadna gane a mile but twa, 

When she heard the deid-bell knellin', 

And every jow 2 that the deid-bell gi'ed, 
It cried, Woe to Barbara Allan. 

Oh, mother, mother, mak' my bed, 
And mak' it saft and narrow. 

Since my love died for me to-day, 
I'll die for him to-morrow. 
- Peal. 

" Barbara Allan." " This ballad is ancient. Bishop Percy had an old printed copy in his possession, which was 
entitled, ' Barbara Allan's Cruelty, or the Young Man's Tragedy,' reprinted in the third volume of his Ancient Songs and 
Ballads, at London in 1767. It is evidently an embellished edition of the old Scottish ballad in the Museum, which is 
taken verbatim from that preserved in Bamsay's Miscellany in 1724. The learned prelate's copy makes the heroine's 
residence at Scarlet Town, (the city of Carlisle, perhaps,) and calls the hero Jemmye Grove. In other respects the story 
is nearly the same in both ballads, and may possibly have had its origin from circumstances that really occurred. Be 
that as it may, it has been a favourite ballad at every country fire-side in Scotland, time out of memory. The strains 
of the ancient minstrel who composed this song may, indeed, appear harsh and unpolished when compared with modern 
refinements ; nevertheless he has depicted the incidents of his story with such a bold, glowing, and masterly pencil as 
would do credit to any age. A learned correspondent informs me, that he remembers having heard the ballad fre- 
quently sung in Dumfriesshire, where it was said the catastrophe took place — that there were people of the name of 
Allan who resided in the town of Annan — and that, in some papers which he had seen, mention is made of a Barbara 
of that family ; but he is of opinion she may have been baptized from the ballad." See Museum Illustrations, vol. iii. 
pp. 213, 214. In the Add. Must., p. 300*, C. K. Sharpe, Esq., writes as follows, regarding the preceding Note : — " In this 
Note Mr. Steuhouse alludes to me. Unluckily I lost the paper I found at Hoddam Castle, in which Barbara Allan was 
mentioned. I remember that the peasantry of Annandale sang many more verses of this ballad than have appeared in 
print, but they were of no merit, containing numerous magnificent offers from the lover to his mistress, and, among others, 
some ships in sight, which may strengthen the belief that this song was composed near the shores of the Solway. I need 
scarcely add, that the name of Grahame, which the luckless lover generally bears, is still common in and about Annan." 

Allan Cunningham remarks of this ballad : — " Never was a tale of love-sorrow so simply and so soon told ; yet we 
learn all that we wish to know, and any further incidents would only cumber the narrative, and impair the effect. I 
have often admired the ease and simplicity of the first verse, and the dramatic beauty of the second." 

The melody bears marks of antiquity, from the nature of the tonality employed. Its author is unknown. We find 
in Mr. W. Chappell's " National English Airs," a melody of the same name, which is, however, quite different from 
the Scottish melody, besides being in a major key, and in three crotchet time. 



• = 80 






^gj^ ^=^g =p 

And ye shall walk in Bill; at - tire, And 


Don - aid 


wha wad buy 


=P— 0- 


silk - en gown, Wi' 

poor bro - ken 

heart 'I 





what's to me a 

sil - Ier crown, Gin frae mv 


part i 

The mind whase every wish is pure, 

Far dearer is to me ; 
And ere I'm forced to break my faith, 

I'll lay me down and dee ; 
For I ha'e pledged my virgin troth, 

Brave Donald's fate to share, 
And he has gi'en to me bis heart, 

Wi' a' its virtues rare. 

His gentle manners wan my heart. 

He gratefu' took the gift ; 
Could I but think to see it back, 

It waud be waur than theft. 
For langest life can ne'er repay 

The love he bears to me ; 
And ere I'm forced to breaft my troth, 

I'll lay me down and dee. 

" And te shall walk in silk attire." This song, also known under the title of " The Siller Crown," was written 
by Miss Susanna Blamire, of Cumberland. See Note upon "The waefu' heart," p. 81 of this work. Mr. Stenhouse 
says : — " This fine song was originally published by Napier as a single sheet song, from which it was copied into the 
Museum ; but neither the author nor the composer are yet known. An excellent parody of the older verses, by a 
modern hand, and set to a beautiful tune, composed by Miss Grace Corbet, is inserted in the sixth volume of the 
Museum ; see Notes on song No. 583, entitled ' Mary, ye'se be clad in silk.' Urbant reprinted this latter song in his 
Collection, under the title of ' I'll lay me down and die.' " See Museum Illustrations, vol. iii. p. 225. 

In the Number of Mr. Bentley's Miscellany for September 1848, we observe a letter to him from that talented 
writer, Mrs. Gore, in which she mentions that the melody of the ballad is hers. This melody, of course, cannot be the 
one published in Johnson's Musical Museum, in George Thomson's Collection, and now in this Collection. Mrs. Gore 
says, that in 1822 she added a stanza to the song, which was "at that time rendered popular by the exquisite singing 
of Miss M. A. Tree." She adds that she was then " ignorant of the authorship of the words, but soon afterwards 
found the whole ballad in the collected works of Robert Burns." Whoever published that Collection of Burns' Works 
— which is one we have not seen — must have assigned the song to Burns at random ; as it was never claimed by him, 
nor for him by any of his recent editors. We refer to the edition of Miss Susanna Blamire's Poems, by Patrick Max- 
well, Esq., for the evidence he adduces to show that Miss Blamire was the authoress of the song " And ye shall walk 
in silk attire." 



• = 104 










fa's tlie 



Crais - ie burn, And 






blythe a - wakes the mor - row ; But 

a' the pride o' spring's re - turn Can 










the fiow'rs and 




* — — 



spread - ing 





sing - ing ; 


=°^ Nr 








wea - ry wight can please, And care his bo - som wring - ing ? 

Fain, fain would I my griefs impart, 

Yet dare na for your anger ; 
But secret love will break my heart, 

If I conceal it langer. 

If thou refuse to pity me, 

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

Around my grave they'll wither. 

" Craigie-Bdkn-Wood." Burns wrote his first version of this song to aid the eloquence of a Mr. Gillespie, who 
was paying his addresses to Jean Lorimer, then residing at Craigie-burn-wood, near Moffat. Neither the poet's verse 
nor the lover's language could prevail : the lady married an officer of the name of Whelpdale — lived with him a few 
mouths — quitted him in consequence of great provocation — and afterwards took up her residence in Dumfries. The 
song was re-written in 179-, for Mr. George Thomson's Collection, and the chorus, part of an old ballad, was dis- 
carded. Mr. Stenhouse tells us,—" The air called ' Craigie-burn-wood,' taken down from a country girl's singing, 
was considered by the late Mr. Stephen Clarke as one of our finest Scottish tunes. At the foot of the manuscript of 
the music of this song (written for Johnson's Museum) is the following note, in the hand- writing of Mr. Clarke : — 
There is no need to mention the chorus. The man that would attempt to sing a cliorus to this beautiful air, should have 
his throat cut to prevent him from doing it again!!" " It is remarkable of this air," says Burns, " that it (its name) 
is the confine of that country where the greatest part of our lowland music (so far as from the title, words, &c, we 
can localize it) has been composed. From Craigie-burn, near Moffat, until one reaches the West Highlands, we have 
scarcely one slow air of any antiquity." — Reliques. 

Dr. Currie informs us, that " Craigie-burn-wood is situated on the banks of the river Moffat, and about three miles 
distant from the village of that name, celebrated for its medicinal waters. The woods of Craigie-burn and of Dum- 
criefF were at one time favourite haunts of Burns. It was there he met the ' Lassie wi' the lint-white locks,' and that 
he conceived some of his beautiful lyrics." See Museum Illustrations, vol. iv. pp. 295, 296. 



= 80 



■S !- 

* * 





O, las - sie, art thou sleep - in' yet? Or art thou wauk - in', 




I would wit? For love has bound me hand and foot, And I would fain be 





ae night ; For pi - ty's sake, this 

ae night, O, rise and let me in, jo. 

Thou hear'st the winter wind and weet ; 
Nae star blinks through the driving sleet, 
Tak' pity on my wearie feet, 
And shield me frae the rain, jo. 
0, let me in, &c. 

The bitter blast that round me blaws, 
Unheeded howls, unheeded fa's ; 
The cauldness o' thy heart's the cause 
0' a' my grief and pain, jo. 
0, let me in, &c. 


tell na me of wind and rain, 
Upbraid na me wi' cauld disdain ! 
Gae back the gate ye cam' again ; 
I winna let you in, jo. 

I tell you now, this ae night, 

This ae, ae, ae night ; 
And, ance for a', this ae night, 
I winna let you in, jo. 

The snellest blast, at mirkest hours, 
That round the pathless wand'rer pours, 
Is nought to what poor she endures, 
That's trusted faithless man, jo. 
I tell you now, &c. 

The sweetest flow'r that deck'd the mead, 
Now trodden like the vilest weed, 
Let simple maid the lesson read, 
The weird may be her ain, jo. 
I tell you now, &c. 

The bird that charm'd his summer day, 
Js now the cruel fowler's prey ; 
Let witless, trusting woman say, 
How aft her fate's the same, jo. 
I tell you now, this ae night, 

This ae, ae, ae night, 
And, ance for a', this ae night, 
I winna let you in, jo. 

* The first verse of the answer may he substituted for the last of the song ; or a verse of each may be sung alternately. 

" let me IN this ae night." " This tune is very old. There is a copy of it in square-shaped notes in a manu- 
script book for the Virginals, in the Editor's possession, under the title of, ' The newe gowne made.' The ballad 
beginning, ' let me in this ae night,' was printed in Herd's Collection, in 1776 ; but it was retouched by Burns, to 
render it less objectionable, before Johnson would give it a place in the Museum." In 1795, Burns altered the old 
verses a second time, and wrote the lady's answer — both for Mr. George Thomson's work. " If the song, as it stands 
in Herd's Collection, has lost anything in point of wit and humour, it has at any rate gained much in respect of 
elegance and modesty by the judicious alterations of our bard." See Museum Illustrations, vol. iv. pp. 302-304. 
The old air, as well as the old words, has been subjected to alteration. It was rather lively, and possessed somewhat 
of a humorous cast, and in consequence was not so well adapted to give effect to the imploring character of Burns' 
verses as the modern version. We have therefore given the latter in this work. 



' = 100 








When first I came to be a man of twen - ty years, or so, I 







-»- — * 

-*3 : 

thought my-self a handsome youth, and fain the world would know; In best at -tire I stept a-broad, with 




Iji^ P^i 


-0 . T-:— 

spi - rits brisk and gay ; And here, and there, and ev' - ry where, was like a morn in May. 




9— V- 




care I had, no fear of want, but ram - bled up and down ; And 


i^^m^^^^M^ ^ ^^ s 



for a beau I might have pass'd in eoun-try or in town; I still was pleas'd where'er I went, and 




when I was a - lone, I tuned my pipe and pleas'd my • self with John of Ba - den-yon.' 

Now in the days of youthful prime, a mistress I must find ; 
For love, they say, gives one an air, and ev'n improves the mind : 
On Phillis fair, above the rest, kind fortune fixed mine eyes ; 
Her piercing beauty struck my heart, and she became my choice. 
To Cupid, now, with hearty pray'r, I offer 'd many a vow, 
And danced and sung, and sigh'd and swore, as other lovers do ; 
But when at last I breathed my flame, I found her cold as stone — 
I left the girl, and tuned my pipe to John of Badenyon. 

When love had thus my heart beguiled with foolish hopes and vain. 

To friendship's port I steer'd my course, and laugh'd at lover's pain ; 

A friend I got by lucky chance — 'twas something like divine ; 

An honest friend's a precious gift, and such a gift was mine. 

And now, whatever may betide, a happy man was I, 

In any strait I knew to whom I freely might apply. 

A strait soon came ; my friend I tried — he laugh'd, and spurn'd my moan ; 

I hied me home, and tuned my pipe to John of Badenyon. 

What next to do I mused a while, still hoping to succeed ; 

I pitch'd on books for company, and gravely tried to read : 

I bought and borrow'd every where, and studied night and day, 

Nor niiss'd what dean or doctor wrote, that happen'd in my way. 

Philosophy I now esteem'd the ornament of youth, 

And carefully, through many a page, I hunted after truth : 

A thousand various schemes I tried, and yet was pleased with none ; 

I threw them by, and tuned my pipe to John of Badenyon. 

* Johnson and Stenhouse give " Badenyond ;" while others give " Badenyon." The latter rhymes better with the final word of the seventh 
line of each stanza, unless the final d of " Badenyond" is silent. 

"John op Badenyon." The words are by the Rev. John Skinner, the author of the song of " Tullochgorum," 
already given in this work, p. 26. The tune is an old Highland strathspey. The fourth and sixth stanzas of the song 

have been omitted for want of space. 







*7 -#- 


Young Peg - gy blooms our 












blush is like the moru - ing, The ro - sy dawn, the spring - ing grass, With 


o'er the crys - tal streams, And cheer each fresh' - ning 

flow - er. 

Her lips, more than the cherries bright, 

A richer dye has graced them ; 
They charm th' admiring gazer's sight, 

And sweetly tempt to taste them ; 
Her smile is, like the evening, mild. 

When feather'd tribes are courting, 
And little lambkins wanton wild, 

In playful bands disporting. 

Were Fortune lovely Peggy's foe, 
Such sweetness would relent her. 

As blooming spring unbends the brow 
Of surly, savage Winter. 

Detraction's eye no aim can gain, 
Her winning powers to lessen ; 

And spiteful Envy grins in vain, 
The poison'd tooth to fasten. 

Ye powers of Honour, Love, and Truth, 

From every ill defend her ; 
Inspire the highly-favour'd youth 

The destinies intend her ; 
Still fan the sweet connubial flame, 

Responsive in each bosom ; 
And bless the dear parental name 

With many a filial blossom. 

i " Pearly," in some oditions. 

" Peogt, I must love thee." Part of Mr. Stenhouse's Note upon this air and song is as follows : — " Mr. J. Stafford 
Smith, in his ' Musica Antiqua,' vol. iii. p. 183, gives this beautiful air as the composition of the celebrated Henry 
Purcell, because John Playford had printed it as such in his ' Musick's Handmaid,' published at London in 1689. 
The old Irish air called ' Lilliburlero,' is likewise given by Smith as Purcell's composition. But neither the Scotch 
nor the Irish air were (was) composed by Purcell, (although he might have put a bass to them for his old friend 
Playford,) nor have (has) either of them the smallest resemblance to any of the other compositions of this truly 
eminent master. The Scottish air appears in a very old manuscript music-book, now in the possession of the Editor, 
written in square or lozenge-shaped notes, under the title of ' Peggy, I must love thee,' in all probability long before 
Purcell was born. Of this ancient song nothing remains but the tune and the title, for the verses to which the air is 
adapted, both in the Orpheus Caledonius, and in the Scots Musical Museum, were the production of Allan Ramsay." 
" Musick's Handmaid," mentioned above, is a collection of " New Lessons and Instructions for the Virginals or Harp- 
sichord," and consists of two parts, the first of which was printed in 1678, the second in 1689. It is in the latter that 
this air occurs. There, it has no name attached to it, but is merely called " A new Scotch tune ;" at the end of it is 
inscribed, " Mr. II. Purcell," but whether as the composer or arranger is not stated. The air is certainly Scottish in 
character, and bears a very marked resemblance in several passages to " An thou wert mine ain thing," and " Kind 
Robin loes me." The most probable solution of the difficulty is, that the MS. old air mentioned by Mr. Stenhouse, 
contained the germ or rudiments of the flowing melody into which Purcell amplified it for Playford's Virginal Book. 
For an example of a similar transformation, see p. 38. 

The verses here given were written by Burns ; they are now united to this air. 









O my love is like a red red rose, That's new- ly sprung in June; O my 


— i 

tune. As 


-0- • 

die, That's sweet - ly play'd 1 in 





fair art thou, my bon - nie lass, Sae deep in love am I ; 


I will love thee 

| \ f >- 

O *-aJ 1 — 


-0- . -0- • 


still, my dear, Till a' the seas gang dry. Till 

the seas gang dry, my dear, Till 





a' the seas gang dry, And I will love thee still, my dear, Till a' the seas gang dry. 

Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear, 
And the rocks melt wi' the sun ; 

[0] I will love thee still, my dear, 
While the sands o' life shall run. 

And fare thee weel, my only love, 
And fare thee weel a while ! 

And I will come again, my love, 
Though it were ten thousand mile ! 

Though it were ten thousand mile, my love ! 
Though it were ten thousand mile ! 

And I will come again, my love, 
Though it were ten thousand mile ! 

1 Some editions have " sung." 

" my love is like a bed red rose." In a former Note, p. 82, we have already alluded to this being an old song, 
which Burns revised and extended for Johnson's Museum. The subject must at one time have been a favourite with 
our minstrels, for no less than three versions of it are given in the second volume of Burns' works, edited by Hogg 
and Motherwell. The first was furnished by Mr. Peter Buchan, who says, — " The song which supplied Burns with 
such exquisite ideas, was written by Lieutenant Hinches as a farewell to his sweetheart." No farther information is 
given as to this gentleman ; not even when or where he lived. This is unfortunate, for authorities are desireable in 
old songs as well as in graver matters. The next version is from a common stall ballad, picked up by Mr. Mother- 
well, entitled, " The turtle-dove, or True love's farewell." The third is taken from a small Garland, without date, 
but supposed to be printed about 1770, entitled, " The Horn fair Garland, containing six excellent new songs." This 
tract is believed to have been in the possession of Burns, as his name, in a boyish hand, is scrawled on the margin of 
the last page. The present song seems to owe some of its lines to Song VI., " The loyal lover's farewell to his sweet- 
heart on going a long journey ;" and Mr. Motherwell observes, " this song shows how tenaciously his (Burns') memory 
retained every idea which a rude ditty suggested to his creative mind." 

In Johnson's Museum the song was set to two different airs, one a strathspey, called by Gow, "Major Graham," 
and the other a fine old melody of one strain, called, " Queen Mary's Lament." Neither of these has retained posses- 
sion of the song, which is now invariably sung to a modern version of " Low down in the broom," the air to which it 
is adapted in this work. Sibbald, in his Chronicle of Scottish Poetry, vol. iii. p. 274, states it as his opinion, that to 
this tune was written, "My love murnis for me, for me," one of Wedderburne's "Psalms and Ballands of Godlie 
purposes." These spiritual songs were undoubtedly sung to the popular tunes of the day ; but every attempt to 
identify the latter with any air now known, must, with perhaps a few exceptions, rest purely on conjecture YVedder- 
burne's " Gude and Godlie Ballates," are supposed to be alluded to in a Canon of the Provincial Council, 1549, which 
denounces severe punishments against those who kept in their possession " aliquos libros rythmorum seu cantilenarum 
vulgarium, scandalosa ecclesiasticorum, quanicunque haeresiin in se continentia." See Sibbald, vol. iii. p. 238. 



= 80 




Ba - loo, 

lie still 

sleep, It grieves me 

a=^— ^=A 






r fr— *- z±=*i 

to hear thee weep ; If thou'lt be 


I'll be 


V F-0- 


Ba - loo, my 


Thy moan 












boy, thy mo - ther's joy, Thy fa - ther bred me great an - noy, 

- loo, ba - 




loo, ba - loo, ba - loo, Ba - loo, ba - loo, ba - loo, lu - lil - li 

O'er thee I keep my lonely watch, 
Intent thy lightest breath to catch, 
Or, wheu thou wak'st, to see thee smile — 
And thus my sorrow to beguile. 
Baloo, my boy, thy mother's joy, 
Thy father bred me great annoy ; 
Baloo, my boy, lie still and sleep, 
It grieves me sore to hear thee weep. 

Twelve weary months have crept away 
Since he, upon thy natal day, 
Left thee and me, to seek afar 
A bloody fate in doubtful war. 
Baloo, my boy, lie still and sleep, 
It grieves me sore to hear thee weep ; 
If thou'lt be silent, I'll be glad, 
Tby moaning makes my heart full sad. 

I dream'd a dream but yester-night : 

Thy father slain in foreign fight ; 
He, wounded, stood beside thy bed — 
His blood ran down upon thy head ; 
He spoke no word, but look'd on me — 
Bent low, and gave a kiss to thee ! 
Baloo, baloo, my darling boy, 
Thou'rt now alone thy mother's joy. 

1 Instead of the nursery burden of " lillilu," &c, the singer may repeat the first two lines of the stanza. 

" Lady Anne Bothwell's Lament." " A fragment of this ancient and beautiful ballad," Bishop Percy informs us, 
" is inserted in his Manuscript Poems, written at least as early, if not before, the beginning of the reign of Queen 
Elizabeth, in 1558. It consists of seven stanzas of eight lines each. A more perfect version of the ballad, but 
evidently modernized, appears in Watson's first (third) Collection, printed at Edinburgh in 1711. This ballad, with 
the music, was afterwards published by Thomson in his Orpheus Caledonius in 1725, from whence it was copied into 
Johnson's Museum." See Museum Illustrations, vol. ii. pp. 124, 125. Mr. C. K. Sharpe, (Additional Illustrations, 
vol. ii. pp. 203-205,) states, that the personages of the ballad were Lady Anne Bothwell, daughter of the Bishop of 
Orkney, and her cousin, Colonel Alexander Erskine, son of the Earl of Mar. As he was killed in 1640, Bishop Percy 
must have made a mistake in his estimate of the date of his manuscript. The old ballad, though poetically meri- 
torious, is so coarse in most of its stanzas as to be repugnant to modern feelings of propriety. We have, therefore, 
adopted only the first stanza of it, the additional stanzas here given having been written by a friend of the Publishers. 










First when Mag - 

gie was my 


— a 

Heaven I thoug 





air ; 






— lH 


— p — 

— i — 

7" — 





-1 -: 



— K 


mar - rie 


speir 1 


mair, But 


- tie o'er 

the lave 2 



V \ 

P • 



l> ' k. 

A b 

p • 




p • 


• • 













V|7 . 







It ' 





meek and 



mild, Sweet 


harm - less 




child ; 

V i 

f • 


m • 


P* P 

_*. l^ 

A- b 




m • 



^ ' 







— -h — 


4 1/ 


J ' 




— k— 




er men than me's be - guiled ; Sae 

whis - tie 


the lave 

How we live, my Meg and me, 
How we love, and how we gree, 3 
I care-na-by* how few may see; 
Sae, whistle o'er the lave o't. 

Wha I wish were maggots' meat, 
Disb'd up in her winding sheet, 
I could write — but Meg maun see't ; 
Sae, whistle o'er the lave o't. 

i Ask. 

- Rest ; remainder. 

s Agree. 

4 A Scottish idiom meaning " I am totally indifferent." 

" Whistle o'er the lave o't." " This fine air was formerly adapted to some witty, but indelicate verses, a frag- 
ment of which is preserved in Herd's Collection. The humorous song in the Museum, beginning, ' First when Maggie 
was my care,' was written by Burns in 1789, as a substitute for the old verses. The air was composed about the year 
1720, by John Bruce, a musician of the town of Dumfries ; and Oswald afterwards published it with variations in the 
last volume of his Caledonian Pocket Companion." See Museum Illustrations, vol. iii. p 236. John Bruce's title to 
be considered the composer of this air is at best very doubtful. We learn from John Mayne, who mentions him among 
his worthies in'the " Siller Gun," 1836, that Bruce was born at Braemar — was engaged in the rebellion of 1745 — was 
taken prisoner, and confined for some time in Edinburgh Castle' — and afterwards settled in Dumfries, where he spent 
the remainder of his life. Mayne adds — " He is supposed by Burns to have been the composer of the favourite Scots 
air of ' Whistle o'er the lave o't.' This opinion is altogether erroneous; for, although John Bruce was an admirable 
performer, he never was known as a composer of music. The air in question was composed long before he existed." 

In order to render the melody of the seventh bar (measure) more vocal, a slight alteration has been made upon it. 

This air affords examples of what has been called the " Scottish catch," or " snap," a characteristic of the strath- 
spey, which, though not confined entirely to that species of dance music, is yet only occasionally met with in our old 
slow vocal airs. This peculiarity was seized upon during last century by the English imitators of Scottish music, and 
was used most unsparingly in their productions. Of this the Anglo-Scottish airs contained in the first volume of 
Johnson's Museum afford abundant proof; among these we may particularize " The banks of Tweed," " My dear 
Jockey," " Kate of Aberdeen," and " Sweet Annie frae the sea-beach came." The use or abuse of this " catch" was 
not confined, however, to imitations of Scottish airs, but was even introduced into the Italian Operatic music of the 
day. Writing of the London Opera in 1748, Dr. Burney, (History of Music, vol. iv. p. 457,) says, — " There was at 
this time too much of Scots catch, or cutting short the first of two notes in a melody, thus : — 




Again, at p. 466, note (d), writing about Tito Manlio, an opera brought out by Abos, a composer of the Neapolitan 
school, in 1756, he says, — " The first air, however, is pleasing, ' Se che piu amor,' but has too much repetition and 
Scots .map of the first two notes." And again, same page, note (c), giving some account of the airs in the pasticcio 
" Olimpiade," brought out in 1755, he says, — " ' Grandi e ver,' by Pergolesi, not in his best manner, nor without 
Scoticisms." As we have not seen the music here alluded to, we suppose that he refers to the " snap" or "catch" 
that he mentions elsewhere as being so prevalent. At p. 472, speaking of the Neapolitan school, he says, — "The 
Scots snap seems to have been contagious iu that school at this time, (1759,) for all the three masters concerned in 
this opera, (Vologeso,) are lavish of it." The masters alluded to are Perez, Cocchi, and Jomelli. 



' = 63 










I — l— 

thou art all so ten - der, 

- — - I— 

love - ly, 





mild, The heart can ne - ver wan - der, which thou hast be 






-/■— ■■■■J f 


as the calm e 

mo - tion of 

half re - mem - ber'd 










as fair 




pens to 



Though long and deep my sorrow, all lonely thus may be, 
Oh ! still my heart shall borrow a ray of joy from thee ; 
To thee the charms seem given of earth that never sprung, 
The melting hymns of heaven are round thy spirit sung. 

Then let thy form be near me, that I that form may see, 
I've tried to live, but eerie, I cannot live from thee ; 
Nor grudge deep kindness either, to soothe me when I sigh, 
I know thou'lt give it rather than thou would'st see me die. 

Though mine thou may'st be never, and ceaseless woes betide, 
Still nought on earth shall ever my love from thee divide ; 
My mind may cease to cherish the hope of bliss to be, 
But of the hopes that perish the last shall breathe of thee. 

" Oh ! mou akt all so tender." This song was written by the Rev. Henry Scott Riddell. The air is that given 
in Johnson's Museum, vol. ii., under the name of" My love has forsaken me," and which is stated, by Mr. Stenhouse, 
to have been furnished for the Museum by Doctor Blacklock, about the close of 1787. It has somewhat of a Gaelic 
cast, and from the simplicity of its style, aud the tonality on which it is composed, we would pronounce it to be con- 
siderably older than Dr. Blacklock's time. 

As a preliminary to the consideration of Rizzio's alleged authorship of many Scottish melodies, we subjoin a few 
particulars of his life. We are told by Chalmers that David Rizzio* was born at Turin, of poor parents ; and that 
he came to Scotland in the suite of the Piedmontese Ambassador, towards the end of the year 1561. Soon afterwards 
he entered the service of Queen Mary, for we find that on the 8th January 1561-2, he received £50 Scots, as " virlet 
of the Queen's chalmer;" and again, three months later, £15, as " chalmer-chield," (page or usher.) The account 
given of his entrance into the Queen's household is, that a fourth singer was occasionally wanted to take a part in 
the performance of madrigals and other concerted vocal music, and that he, having a good voice and being skilled in 
music, was engaged to fill the situation. In this position he seems to have remained for several years, for in 1564 we 
find that four payments were made to him at the rate of £80 a year, still as " virlet." In 1565, the Queen's French 
Secretary having been dismissed, Rizzio was appointed to succeed him, but did not long enjoy his new office, as he 
was murdered on the 9th March of the same year ; having thus been little more than four years in the country. 

* Or rather Riccio ; for thus Queen Murj' spells the name in writing an account of the murder to the Archbishop of Glasgow, then her Am- 
bassador at the Court of France. 



: 66 






B^g=^^ g 


Should auld ao • quaint - ance be for - got, And ne - ver brought to 





-r 1 — # 

mind ? 

Should auld ac - quaint - ance 


for - got, And days 










my dear, 





syne ; We'll tak' 



ness yet, For 

We twa ha'e run about the braes, 

And pu'd the gowans ' fine, 
But we've wander'd mony a weary foot, 

Sin' auld lang syne. 

For auld lang syne, &c. 

And here's a hand my trusty fere,' 

And gi'es a hand o' thine ; 
And we'll take a richt-gude-willie waught, 6 

For auld lang syne. 

For auld lang syne, &c. 

We twa ha'e paidelt 2 in the burn, 3 
Frae morning sun till dine ; 

But seas between us braid ha'e roar'd, 
Sin' auld lang syne. 

For auld lang syne, &c. 

And surely ye'll be your pint-stoup, 

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

For auld lang syne. 

For auld lang syne, &c. 

1 Daisies. 2 Walked backwards and forwards. z Brook. 

4 Companion. — In some editions the word is " friend." •' A draught with right good will. 

" Auld Lang Syne " "Burns admitted to Johnson, that three of the stanzas of Lang-syne only were old ; the 
other two being written by himself. These three stanzas relate to the cup, the pint-stoup, and a gude-willie waught; 
those two introduced by Burns have relation to the innocent amusements of youth, contrasted with the cares and 
.troubles of maturer age." In introducing this song to Mrs. Dunlop of Dunlop, the daughter of Sir Thomas Wallace 
of Craigie, and a descendant of the race of Elderslie, the poet says : — " Is not the Scotch phrase, ' auld lang syne,' 
exceedingly expressive ? There is an old song and tune (of this name) which have often thrilled through my soul. 
.... Light be the turf on the breast of the heaven-inspired poet who composed this glorious fragment ! There is 
more of the fire of native genius in it than in half-a-dozen of modern Bacchanalians!" 

As Burns had mentioned that the old tune adapted to the song in Johnson's Museum was but mediocre, Mr. Thom- 
son got the words arranged to the air, " I fee'd a lad at Michaelmas," to which they are now always sung. ." Shield 
introduced it in his overture to the opera of Rosina, written by Mr. Brooks, and acted at Covent-Garden in 1783. It 
is the last movement of that overture, and in imitation of a Scottish bag-pipe tune, in which the oboe is substituted for 
the chanter, and the bassoon for the drone." In Cumming's Collection the air is found under the title of " The Miller's 
Wedding." • Gow, in one collection, called it " The Miller's Daughter ;" while in another he gave it the name of " Sir 
Alexander Don's Strathspey," in compliment to the late baronet of Newton-don, in the county of Roxburgh, who was 
both a good violin-player, and a steady patron of the musical art. See Museum Illustrations, vol. v. pp. 374, 375. 

In Part III. of Watson's Collection of " Scots Poems," (1711,) pp. 71-74, there is an " Old Long Syne" of little 




' = 72 





g r-^— ^ 




Yc banks, and braes, and streams a - round Tlie 







cas - tie o' Mont - go - me - ry, Green 

your woods, and fair your flowr's, Your 









wa - ters 

drum - lie ! 


aim - mer first 


fauld her robes, And there the Ian? - est 

ry ! For 



•-•— » 









there I took the last fare - weel O' my sweet High - land Ma - ry. 

How sweetly bloom'd the gay green birk, 

How rich the hawthorn's blossom, 
As underneath their fragrant shade, 

I clasped her to my bosom ! 
The golden hours, on angel wings, 

Flew o'er me and my dearie ; 
For dear to me as light and life 

Was my sweet Highland Mary. 

Wi' monie a vow, and lock'd embrace, 

Our parting was fu' tender ; 
And pledging aft to meet again, 

We tore ourselves asunder : 
But, oh ! fell death's untimely frost, 

That nipp'd my flower sae early ! 
Now green's the sod, and cauld's the clay, 

That wraps my Highland Mary ! 

pale, pale now those rosy lips 

I aft ha'e kiss'd sae fondly ! 
And closed for aye the sparkling glance 

That dwelt on me sae kindly ; 
And mouldering now in silent dust, 

That heart that lo'ed me dearly ! 
But still within my bosom's core 

Shall live my Highland Mary. 

" Highland Mart." Burns composed this song to the air of" Katherine Ogie." In a letter to Mr. George Thom- 
son, dated 14th November 171)2, he says : — " I agree with you that the song, Katherine Ogie, is very poor stuff, and 
altogether unworthy of so beautiful an air. I tried to mend it, but the awkward sound Ogie recurring so often in the 
rhyme, spoils every attempt at introducing sentiment into the piece. The foregoing song pleases myself; I think it is 
in my happiest manner ; you will see at first glance that it suits the air. The subject of the song is one of the most 
interesting passages of my youthful days ; and I own that I should be much flattered to see the verses set to an air 
which would insure celebrity. Perhaps, after all, 'tis the still glowing prejudice of my heart that throws a borrowed 
lustre over the merits of the composition." It appears that the air of Katherine Ogie, with the words, " As I went 
furth to view the plain," which are characterized by Burns as " very poor stuff," was sung with great applause by 
Mr. John Abell, one of the gentlemen of the Chapel-Koyal, at his concert in Stationers' Hall, London, in the year 
1680. Also, that it was printed with the music and words, by an engraver of the name of Cross, as a single sheet 
song, in the course of that year. The air appears as Scottish in D'Urfey's Pills, and various subsequent publications. 
It is found in the Leyden MS., a copy of which was presented by the Editor to the Library of the Faculty of Advo- 
cates, Edinburgh. 



= 76 




bon - nie, blytlie, and 



She stole my heart a 


In spite of all my 











When ted - ding of the 


Bare - head - ed on the 








Love 'midst her locks did 


And wan - ton'd in her e'en. 

Without the help of art, 

Like flow'rs which grace the wild, 
She did her sweets impart, 

Whene'er she spoke or smiled. 
Her looks they were so mild, 

Free from affected pride, 
She me to love beguiled ; 

I wish'd her for my bride. 

! had I all that wealth 

Hopetoun's high mountains 1 fill, 
Insured long life and health, 

And pleasure at my will ; 
I'd promise and fulfil 

That none but bonnie she, 
ThelassofPatie's Mill, 

Should share the same with me. 

1 The Lead-hills, belonging to the Earl of Hopetoun. 

" The Lass op Patie's Mim,." Mr. Stenhouse, in his Note upon No. 20 of the Museum, gives a romantic account 
of the heroine of this song, from the Statistical Account of Scotland, which the reader may consult, if curious in 
matters so uncertain as old family traditions of the sixteenth century. From that account we learn that she was the 
only daughter of John Anderson, Esq., of Patie's Mill, in the parish of Keith-hall, and county of Aberdeen. That she 
was very beautiful and accomplished, and a rich heiress in prospect. That a Mr. Sangster, the Laird of Boddom, 
tried to carry off Miss Anderson, clandestinely, about the year 1550, and was disappointed, and soundly drubbed by 
her father. That she afterwards married a Mr. Anderson, who "composed a song in her praise, the air of which 
only is now preserved." All this maybe true, or not; but Mr. Stenhouse's assertion, that "the air as has been 
shewn, is at least as old as the middle of the sixteenth century," cannot be received without written or printed evi- 
dence in musical notation ; of which there is not a shadow. The air, No. 20 of Johnson's Museum, is very unlike a 
Scottish air of " the middle of the sixteenth century." So is the set given in the first volume of John Watts' " Musical 
Miscellany," London, 1729, page 97 ; while that set differs materially from Johnson's. All the sets of the air that 
we have seen, bear internal evidence — from certain passages and cadences — of modern structure, not earlier than the 
commencement of the eighteenth century. It is surprising that Mr. Stenhouse did not perceive this. Mr. Stenhouse 
adds, in his Note on this song and air, " Allan Ramsay adapted his modern words to the old melody, and transferred 
the heroine of his muse to the parish of Galston, in the county of Ayr, where a mill with a similar name was existing. 
Burns gives us the following account of this translocation, upon the authority of Sir William Cunningham of Robert- 
land, Baronet, to whom the anecdote was communicated by the late John, Earl of Loudon :— ' The then Earl of 
Loudon, father of Earl John before-mentioned, had Ramsay at Loudon, and one day walking by the banks of Irvine 
water, near New-Mills, at a place yet called Patie's Mill, they were struck with the appearance of a beautiful country 
girl. His Lordship observed that she would be a fine theme for a song. Allan lagged behind in returning to Loudon 
Castle, and at dinner produced this identical song.' " — Burns's Relique.s. 

In this work the second Btanza of Ramsay's song is omitted, for very obvious reasons. 



: 88 






m . 



What ails this heart o' mine? What ails this wa - t'ry e'e \ 











gars' me a' turn cauld as death When I take leave o' thee? When thou art far a - wa' Thou'lt 

a piacere 


^=^P^Sg^=g^^ pgpp 

dear - er grow to me ; But change o' place an' change o' folk May gar thy fan - cy jee. s 

When I gae out at e'en, 

Or walk at morning air, 
Ilk 3 rustling bush will seem to say 

I used to meet thee there. 
Then I'll sit down and cry, 

And live aneath the tree, 
And when a leaf fa's in my lap 

I'll ca't a word frae thee. 

I'll hie me to the bower 

That thou wi' roses tied, 
And where wi' mony a blushing bud 

I strove mysel' to hide. 

1 Make ; cau*?e. 

I'll doat on ilka spot 

Where I ha'e been wi' thee, 

And ca' to mind some kindly word 
By ilka burn and tree ! 

Wi' sic thoughts i' my mind, 

Time through the world may gae, 
And find my heart in twenty years 

The same as 'tis to-day. 
'Tis thoughts that bind the soul, 

And keep friends i' the e'e ; 
And gin I think I see thee aye, 

What can part thee and me '. 

2 Move ; change. 

"What ails this heart o' mine?" The words are by Miss Susanna Blamire; two of whose songs have already 
appeared in this work. See pp. 81, 87. The melody is old, and was formerly called, " My dearie, an' thou dee :" 
it appears in its simpler form in the Leyden MS., referred to supra, p. 12, &c. Mr. Patrick Maxwell, in his edition of 
Miss Blamire's poems, 1842, informs us, that she was born at Carden Hall, Cumberland, on 12th January 1747 ; that 
she passed a good deal of her time in Scotland — her eldest sister, Sarah, having married Colonel Graham of Duchray 
Castle and Ardoch; and that she died at Carlisle on 5th April 1704. Mr. Maxwell says of her :— " She had a 
graceful form, somewhat above the middle size, and a countenance, though slightly marked with the small-pox, 
beaming with good nature ; her dark eyes sparkled with animation, and won every heart at the first introduction. 
She was called by her affectionate countrymen, ' a bonnie and varra lish young lass,' — which may be interpreted as 
meaning a beautiful and very lively young girl. Her affability and total freedom from affectation put to flight that 
reserve which her presence was apt to create in the minds of her humbler associates ; for they quickly perceived that 
she really wished them happiness, and aided in promoting it by every effort in her power. She freely mingled in 
their social parties, called merry neets, in Cumberland ; and by her graceful figure, elegant dancing, and kind-hearted 
gaiety, gave a zest to the entertainments, which, without her presence, would have been wanting." 

We have had occasion to animadvert on the share that James Oswald had taken in the promulgation of a belief 
that Rizzio was the composer of some of our old Scottish melodies. Since writers, who ought to have acquired 
better information, have not only re-echoed Oswald's mis-statement, but have, besides, asserted that Rizzio was the 
originator of the Scottish style of melody, we consider it our duty to examine the question thoroughly, with the 
view of bringing it to a true conclusion. This will require more space than can be afforded to any single Note ; 
we shall therefore present our materials in such paragraphs as they may naturally fall into. How or when such a 
belief originated, may be difficult to determine ; but certainly there are no traces of it for a century and a half after 
Rizzio's death. During all that time there is no historical hint that Rizzio ever composed anything in any style of 
music ; and not a vestige of any music, sacred or secular, is ascribed to him. Tassoni, his countryman, (born in 
1565, the year of Rizzio's murder,) speaking of music, says, that James, King of Scotland, invented a new and plain- 
tive style of melody. Whether this assertion be correct or not, is of no consequence to our present inquiry. In 
either case Tassoni's assertion is sufficient to show, not only that no claim had till then been set up in favour of 
Rizzio, but also that an earlier origin was then assigned to Scottish melody. We here exclude from consideration 
James VI., as he was King of England long before Tassoni died, (1635 ;) and we consider it probable that James I. 
was meant — he at least being known to have included music among his accomplishments, and being said to have been 
an excellent performer on the lute, the harp, and other instruments. (See p. 100 for the continuation of this inquiry.) 



' = 72 




-g— 4 s m —\- P g g- 




The gloom 



ga - th'ring fast, Loud 







eon - stant blast, Yon mux - ky 








driv - ing 



The hunter now has left the moor, 
The scatter'd coveys meet secure, 
While here I wander, press 'd with care, 
Along the lonely banks of Ayr. 

The autumn mourns her ripening corn 
By early winter's ravage torn ; 
Across her placid azure sky 
She sees the scowling tempest fly : 

Chill rins my blood to hear it rave — 
I think upon the stormy wave, 
Where many a danger I must dare, 
Far from the bonnie banks of Ayr. 

'Tis not the surging billows' roar, 
'Tis not that fatal, deadly shore ; 

Though death in every shape appear, 
The wretched have no more to fear : 

But round my heart the ties are bound, 
That heart transpierced with many a wound ; 
These bleed afresh, those ties I tear, 
To leave the bonnie banks of Ayr. 

Farewell, old Coila's hills and dales, 
Her heathy moors and winding vales ; 
The scene where wretched fancy roves, 
Pursuing past, unhappy loves ! 

Farewell, my friends, farewell, my foes, 
My peace with these, my love with those ; 
The bursting tears my heart declare ; 
Farewell, the bounie banks of Ayr. 

" The Gloomy Night is gath'ring fast." " I composed this song," says Burns, " as I convoyed my chest so far 
on the road to Greenock, where I was to embark in a few days for Jamaica. I meant it as my farewell dirge to my 
native land." — Reliques. This was in 1786. It appears that this song was set to music by his friend Mr. Allan 
Masterton, a Writing-master in Edinburgh. Masterton's air is mediocre enough, and is singularly unvocal and ill- 
suited to the words in the first part of the second strain. At that period, and long before, as well as long after, most 
of the amateur musicians in Great Britain were men who could merely play a little on some musical instrument, or 
sing a little, without any farther knowledge of music, or cultivation of their own musical capabilities, whatever these 
might be. Hence so many very indifferent Scottish melodies that infest our printed musical collections ; mere imita- 
tions, and mostly affected and bad ones, of the better and more ancient Scottish airs ; combining want of knowledge 
of musical composition with want of feeling and judgment. 

The air to which Burns' words are given in this work, is found in Oswald's Caledonian Pocket Companion, under 
the name of " Drimon Duff;" in the Museum, vol. iv., it is set to the Border ballad, " Hughie Graham." We believe 
it to be an old Highland air, and that its original title was " Drumion Dubh," or " The Black Cow." Whatever its 
origin or its antiquity, it is undoubtedly Scottish, and is a very good and characteristic melody. For the old ballad 
of " Hughie Graham," see Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, vol. iii. edit. 1833. 

We now return to Rizzio. From what we have already stated, and from what follows, we are inclined to believe 
that Rizzio's name was first connected with Scottish melody by his countrymen who were in England about the 
beginning of last century. We know that Italian music was then fashionable in London, and that Scottish song 
divided the public taste with it. Whether the flowing style of melody peculiar to the Lowland pastoral airs induced 
the belief that an Italian only could have written them, we do not pretend to say, but it is certain that Eizzio was 
first heard of as a composer in 1725, when Thomson published his Orpheus Caledonius. In this there are seven airs 
ascribed to Rizzio ; " An thou wert mine ain thing," " Bessie Bell," " Auld Rob Morris," " The boatman," " The bush 
aboon Traquair," " The Lass o' Patie's Mill," and " Down the burn, Davie ;" of these at least three certainly had not 
existed much above half a century, and the last was probably a very recent composition. Such is the earliest evidence 
in favour of Rizzio, and slight as it is, its authority is considerably lessened by the fact, that in the second edition of 
the Orpheus Caledonius, (1733,) Thomson, perhaps taking shame to himself for having been an accessory to the im- 
posture, suppressed Rizzio's name entirely. (See p. 103 for a continuation of the subject.) 



: 60 



I™. f^^lES§pS§=^^=glg^^3 



The last, the dread - ed 1 hour U come, That beara my love from 




hear the dead note 


the drum, I 

s AN=H^ =g 

mark the 

tal 2 tree. 


bell has toll'd ; 









shakes my heart: The truni - pet speaks thy 

name ; 



W^ TTf — F 


must my Gil -de - roy de - part To bear a death of shame ! 

The stanzas within brackets may be omitted in singing. 

[No bosom trembles for thy doom ; 

No mourner wipes a tear ; 
The gallows' foot is all thy tomb, 

The sledge is all thy bier.] 

Oh, Gilderoy ! bethought we then 

So soon, so sad to part, 
When first in Roslin's lovely glen 

You triumph'd o'er my heart ? 

Your locks they glitter'd to the sheen, 
Your hunter garb was trim ; 

And graceful was the ribbon green 
That bound your manly limb ! 

[Ah ! little thought I to deplore 
Those limbs in fetters bound ; 

Or hear, upon the scaffold floor, 
The midnight hammer sound.] 

[Ye cruel, cruel, that combined 

The guiltless to pursue ; 
My Gilderoy was ever kind, 

He could not injure you !] 

A long adieu ! but where shall fly 

Thy widow all forlorn, 
When ev'ry mean and cruel eye 

Regards my wo with scorn ? 

Yes ! they will mock thy widow's tears, 
And hate thine orphan boy ; 

Alas ! his infant beauty wears 
The form of Gilderoy. 

[Then will I seek the dreary mound 
That wraps thy mouldering clay, 

And weep and linger on the ground, 
And sigh my heart away.] 

1 Orig., fatal. - Orig , gallows. — These words have been altered, not as improvements on the poetry, but merely as more suitable for singing. 

" Gilderoy." With regard to the origin of the air, we have no information. It has a modern aspect in the current 
versions, which are nearly the same as that found in the Orpheus Caledonius, ed. 1 733. The verses given in this 
work were written by our celebrated countryman, Thomas Campbell, and were adapted to the air, for the first time, 
in Wood's " Songs of Scotland," in 1848. The old ballad of Gilderoy seems to have been published about 1650. The 
current copy, with alterations, ascribed to Lady Wardlaw, the authoress of " Hardyknute," is much too long for a 
song ; and is, besides, objectionable in other respects. The hero of the ballad, Gilderoy, was, it seems, a desperate 
freebooter in Perthshire, who, after committing many atrocities, was seized and hanged, with five of his followers, at 
the Gallowlee, between Leith and Edinburgh, in July 1638. 

Lord Hailes, in his Annals of Scotland, vol. i., ed. 1797, speaking of an Irish chief, Gilrodh, who made an incursion 
into Scotland in 1233, appends a note regarding the name, p. 349 — " Properly Gilmadh, that is, the red-haired lad. 
And hence the modern corrupted name of Gilderoy." 






air, " jennies bawbee." 


. p^ r^ w^f bi^s^ 


I met four chaps yon birks a-mang, Wi' hing-ing lugs' and fa - ces lang: I 









speir'd 2 at neebour Bauldy Strang, Wha's they I see? Quo' he, Ilk cream-faced pawky chiel, 3 Thocht 







-0 — #- 

he was cun - ning as the deil, And here they cam' a - wa' to steal Jen-nie's baw - bee. 4 

The first, a Captain to his trade, 

Wi' skull ill-lined, but back weel-clad, 

March'd round the barn, and by the shed, 

And pappit 8 on his knee : 
Quo' he, " My goddess, nymph, and queen, 
Your beauty's dazzled baith my een !" 
But deil a beauty he had seen 

But — Jennie's bawbee. 

A Lawyer neist, wi' blatherin' gab, 6 
Wha speeches wove like ony wab, 
In ilk ane's corn aye took a dab, 

And a' for a fee. 
Accounts he owed through a' the toun, 
And tradesmen's tongues nae mair could drown, 
But now he thocht to clout his goun 

Wi' Jennie's bawbee. 

A Norland laird neist trotted up, 

Wi' bawsand 7 naig and siller whup, 

Cried, " There's my beast, lad, haud the grup, 

Or tie 't till a tree : 
What's gowd to me? — I've walth o' Ian' ! 
Bestow on ane o' worth your han' !" — 
He thocht to pay what he was awn 

Wi' Jennie's bawbee. 

Drest up just like the knave o' clubs, 
A thing came neist, (but life has rubs,) 
Foul were the roads, and fu' the dubs, 8 

And jaupit" a' was he. 
He danced up, squinting through a glass, 
And grinn'd, ". V faith, a bonnie lass !" 
He thought to win, wi' front o' brass, 

Jennie's bawbee. 

She bade the Laird gae kame his wig, 
The Sodger no to strut sae big, 
The Lawyer no to be a prig ; 

The fool, he cried, " Tehee ! 
I kenn'd that I could never fail 1" 
But she preen'd 10 the dishclout to his tail, 
And soused him wi' the water-pail, 

And kept her bawbee. 

Then Johnnie cam', a lad o' sense, 
Although he had na mony pence ; 
And took young Jennie to the spence, 11 

Wi' her to crack 12 a wee. 
Now Johnnie was a clever chiel, 
And here his suit he press'd sae weel, 
That Jennie's heart grew saft as jeel, 

And she birled 13 her bawbee. 

1 Ears. 2 Asked. 3 Sly fellow. 4 Fortune ; Scotice — tocher ; literally — a half-penuy. 

Babbling tongue. 7 Having a white spot on its forehead. 8 Puddles ; pools. 

10 Pinned. u The inner apartment of a country house. ^ To chat. 

5 Popped ; dropped. 
9 Bespattered. 
13 Consented to share ; to birl, means also to toss up. 

" Jennie's Bawbee." This air has long been a favourite dancing tune ; but it appears also to have been early 
adapted to words. A fragment of the old song is given by Herd, in his Collection of 1776 : its merits are not great; 
but even had they been greater, it must still have been supplanted by the humorous verses which we give above. 
These were written by the late Sir Alexander Boswell, Bart., and were published by him anonymously in 1803. He 
afterwards presented them to Mr. George Thomson for his Collection of Scottish Melodies. Allan Cunningham, in his 
Songs of Scotland, 1825, gives Sir Alexander's verses with an additional stanza (the last) which did not appear in the 
earlier copies; whether it was an after-thought of the author himself, or was added by another, is uncertain. Sir 
Alexander Boswell was the eldest son of Dr. Johnson's biographer, and was born in 1775 ; he died 27th March 1822. 
He was distinguished as an amiable and spirited country gentleman, and also as a literary antiquary of considerable 
erudition. Perhaps his taste in the latter capacity was greatly fostered by the possession of an excellent collection of 
old manuscripts and books, gathered together by his ancestors, and well known under the title of the " Auchinleck 
Library." From the stores of this collection, Sir Walter Scott published, in 1804, the romance of " Sir Tristrem," 
which is believed to be the earliest specimen extant of poetry by a Scotsman. Its author, Thomas of Erceldoune, 
called the Rhymer, flourished in the thirteenth century. See Chambers' Dictionary of Eminent Scotsmen. 






#- 4- 




Flow gent - ly, sweet Af - ton, 

mong thy green 




braes, Flow gent - ly, 


sing thee 


thy praise ; 













by thy 






stream ; Flow gent - ly, sweet 

Af - ton. 


turb not her dream. 

Thou stock-dove, whose echo resounds through the glen, 
Ye wild whistling blackbirds, in yon flow'ry den, 
Thou green-crested lap-wing, thy screaming forbear, 
I charge you, disturb not my slumbering fair. 

How lofty, sweet Afton, thy neighbouring hills, 
Far marked with the courses of clear-winding rills ; 
There daily I wander, as morn rises high, 
My flocks and my Mary's sweet cot in my eye. 

How pleasant thy banks and green valleys below, 
Where wild in the woodlands the primroses blow ; 
There oft, as mild evening creeps o'er the lea, 
The sweet-scented birk shades my Mary and me. 

Thy crystal stream, Afton, how lovely it glides, 

And winds by the cot where my Mary resides ! 

How wanton thy waters her snowy feet lave, 

As, gath'ring sweet flow'rets, she stems thy clear wave! 

Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes ; 
Flow gently, sweet river, the theme of my lays ; 
My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream ; 
How gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream. 

" Afton Water." " This song was written by Burns, and presented by him, as a tribute of gratitude and respect, 
to Mrs. Stewart of Afton Lodge, for the notice she had taken of the bard, being the first he ever received from any 
person in her rank of life. He afterwards transmitted the verses, along with the beautiful melody to which they are 
adapted, to Johnson, the publisher of the Museum. Afton is a small river in Ayrshire, a tributary stream of the 
Nith. Mrs. Stewart inherited the property of Afton Lodge, which is situated upon its banks, in right of her father." 
See Museum Illustrations, vol. iv. p. 355. It does not appear whence Burns obtained the air, of which the author 
is unknown. 

After the publication of the Orpheus Caledonius, (see p. 100,) we hear no more of Kizzio till the appearance of 
Oswald's Second Collection of Scottish Airs in 1742. There we find four of those airs, formerly ascribed to Kizzio by 
Thomson, passed over without any such ascription, while six others have the name of "Rizo" attached to them; 
these are, " The cock laird," " The last time I cam' o'er the muir," " Peggy, I must love thee," " The black eagle," 
"The lowlands of Holland," and " William's ghost;" the last of these airs being a composition of the day, perhaps 
even by Oswald himself. We thus see clearly enough that no dependence can be placed on these men — their pretended 
knowledge is mere assumption, which however it might have imposed on the credulous and the uninformed, will not 
bear the test of sober criticism. It is to be remarked, that both these works, the Orpheus Caledonius, and Oswald's 
Second Collection, appeared in London ; and that the contemporaneous Edinburgh Collections, Allan Ramsay's, circa 
1726, Adam Craig's, 1730, and William Macgibbon's, 1742, while they contain most, if not all the airs already named, 
do not make any mention whatever of Rizzio. On the contrary, Craig, in dedicating his work to the " Musical 
Society of Mary's Chappell," states, that the airs are " the native and genuine product of the country ;" words which 
he would not have used without alluding in some way to Rizzio, had there been any tradition then current in Scot- 
land connecting him with Scottish melody. (See p. 104 for a continuation of the subject.) 








1. 1 j^_ y •+ — \/- 

My heart is sair, I daur - na tell, My heart is sair for some - bo - dy ; 







I could wake a win - ter night, For the sake o' some - bo - dy. 
n -^ poco rail.- 



Oh - hon, for some - bo - dy ! 
a tempo. O 





S— N 





Oh hey, for some - bo - dy ! 

I could range the world a - round, For the sake o' some-bo-dy! 

Ye powers that smile on virtuous love, 
sweetly smile on somebody ! 

Frae ilka danger keep him free, 
And send me safe my somebody. 

Oh-hon, for somebody ! 
Oh hey, for somebody ! 
I wad do — what wad I not?- 
For the sake o' somebody. 

" For the sake o' somebody." In this work we have not adopted the set of the air given by Johnson in his 
Museum, but the long-received and established popular set of the air. The superiority of the latter is sufficient to 
justify this. Mr. Stenhouse says : — " The whole of this song, as printed in the Museum, beginning, ' My heart is 
sair, I daurna tell,' was written by Burns, except the third and fourth lines of stanza first, which are taken from 
Kamsay's song, under the same title and to the same old tune, which may also be seen in Os wald's Caledonian Pocket 
Companion. To this work, Burns, in a note annexed to the manuscript song, refers Johnson for the music. Ramsay's 
verses are in the shape of a dialogue between a lover and his sweetheart ; but they possess very little merit. The old 
air consists of one simple strain, ending on the third of the key. It is probable that the melody had been originally 
adapted to a much older set of verses than those of Ramsay, and that the old song consisted of stanzas of four, in 
place of eight lines each." See Museum Illustrations, vol. v. p. 383. 

Having shown (p. 100) that Rizzio's name as a composer was not heard of for 160 years after his death, we shall 
now notice a few instances in which high merit is claimed for him as a melodist. Geminiani, in his " Treatise on 
good taste in the Art of Music," London, 1749, has the following strange passage: — "Two composers of music have 
appeared in the world, who, in their different kinds of melody, have raised my admiration ; namely, David Rizzio and 
Gio. Baptista Lulli : of these, which stands highest is none of my business to pronounce; but when I consider that 
Rizzio was foremost in point of time, that till then melody was entirely rude and barbarous, and that he found means 
to civilize and inspire it with all the gallantry of the Scottish nation, I am inclinable to give him the preference." It 
is unnecessary for us to answer what we have already shown to be a fiction of recent origin, fl'e shall merely place 
in opposition an extract from Dr. Campbell's Philosophical Survey of the South of Ireland : — '■ That this music, or 
any one single Scottish air, was invented or composed by the unfortunate Rizzio, is only noticed here as an absurd 
fable, which having no support, merits no refutation." Geminiani's assertion, that "till the time of Rizzio melody 
was entirely rude and barbarous, ' is signally refuted by many ancient popular airs of France, Italy, and Germany. 
We may particularly refer to the airs, Nos. 14 and 16, of the Plates given in G. F. Graham's " Essay on Musical 
Composition," Edinburgh, 1838. One of these, a most graceful French air of the fifteenth century, we give below ; 
the other is a free and elegant German melody of 1425. 





^^E^i ^EE^^ggSj^z^ 









See No. 14 of Plates of Essay on Musical Composition. (See p. 109 for a continuation of the subject.) 




= 104 









blaws the wind 

Do - nocht - head, 




snaw drives snel - ly through the dale ; The gab - er - lun - zie tirls my sneck,' And 

din - na let his wind - ing - sheet Be nae - thing but a wreath o' snaw. 

" Full ninety winters ha'e I seen, 

And piped where gor-cocks 2 whirring flew, 
And mony a day ye've danced, I ween, 

To lilts which frae my drone I blew." 
My Eppie waked, and soon she cried — 

" Get up, gudeman, and let him in ; 
For weel ye ken the winter night 

Was short when he began his din." 

My Eppie's voice, wow, it's sweet ! 

E'en though she bans and scaulds a wee ; 
But when it's tuned to sorrow's tale, 

0, haith, it's doubly dear to me ! 
" Come in, auld carle ! I'll steer my fire, 

And mak' it bleeze a bonnie flame ; 
Your blude is thin, ye've tint the gate, 8 

Ye should nae stray sae far frae hame." 

" Nae hame ha'e I," the Minstrel said, 

" Sad party strife o'erturn'd my ha' ; 
And, weeping, at the eve o' life 

I wander through a wreath o' snaw." 
" Wae's me, auld carle ! sad is your tale — 

Your wallet's toom 4 — your claithing thin ; 
Mine's no the hand to steek 5 the door 

When want and wae would fain be in." 

We took him ben — we set him doun, 

And soon the ingle bleezed fu' hie ; 
The auld man thought himself at hame, 

And dried the tear-drap frae his e'e. 
Ance mair the Minstrel waked a strain — 

Nae merry lilt, but sad and slow ; 
In fancy's ear it seem'd to wail 

A free-born nation's overthrow. 

Twirls the door-latch. 

' Muir-cockg. 

3 Lost the road. 

1 Empty. 

" Keen blaws the wind o'er Donocht-Head." This song, with the exception of the last twelve lines, which were 
added by Captain Charles Gray, R.M., is thus noticed by Burns in a letter to Mr. George Thomson of 19th October 
1794 : — " Donocht-Head is not mine; I would give ten pounds it were. It appeared first in the Edinburgh Herald, 
and came to the editor of that paper with the Newcastle post-mark on it." In 1815 there was published at Newcastle, 
by S. Hodgson, an 8vo volume of 182 pages, entitled, " Poetry, fugitive and original, by the late Thomas Bedingfield, 
Esq., and Mr. George Pickering." In that volume, which was dedicated by its editor to " Walter Scott, Esq.," we 
find (pp. 57, 58) " Donocht-Head" given as by George Pickering, while some confirmation of the authorship is offered 
in pages 55, 56, introductory to the fragment. Pickering was born at Simonburn in Northumberland, in 1758; went 
abroad in embarrassed circumstances about 1798 ; returned in poverty to his native place after an absence of more 
than a quarter of a century ; and died near Newcastle about 1830. It does not appear that Pickering ever resided in 
Scotland ; and Donocht-Head, or Dunnet-Head, is a promontory on the coast of Caithness. The additional twelve 
lines by Captain Gray very happily complete the unfinished ballad. 















moon had climb'd 













ris - es o'er the source of Dee, And from the east - era sum - mit shed Her 




sil - ver light on tower and tree ; When Ma - ry laid her 

rail. ^a tempo. 


soft and low, 

voice was heard, Say, " Ma - ry, weep 

more for me !" 

She from her pillow gently raised 

Her head, to ask who there might be, 
And saw young Sandy shivering stand, 

With visage pale, and hollow e'e. 
" Mary, dear, cold is my clay ; 

It lies beneath a stormy sea. 
Far, far from thee, I sleep in death, 

So, Mary, weep no more for me ! 

Three stormy nights and stormy days 
We toss'd upon the raging main ; 

And long we strove our bark to save, 
But all our striving was in vain. 

Even then, when horror chill'd my blood, 
My heart was fill'd with love for thee : 

The storm is past, and I at rest ; 
So, Mary, weep no more for me ! 

maiden dear, thyself prepare ; 

We soon shall meet upon that shore 
Where love is free from doubt and care, 

And thou and I shall part no more !" 
Loud crow'd the cock, the shadow fled : 

No more of Sandy could she see. 
But soft the passing spirit said, 

" Sweet Mary, weep no more for me !" 

" Mary's Dream." It appears that this song was written in 1772, by Mr. John Lowe, a native of Kenmore, in 
Galloway. Ee was the eldest son of the Hon. Mr. Gordon of Kenmore's gardener, and was educated at the parish 
school of Kells. When fourteen years old he was apprenticed to a weaver named Heron, father of Robert Heron, 
author of the History of Scotland, and other works. He afterwards received instructions from Mr. Mackay, school- 
master of Carsphairn. His abilities and good temper gained him friends, who enabled him, in 1771, to study Divinity 
in the University of Edinburgh. He became tutor in the family of Mr. M'Ghie of Airds, where he composed a number 
of poetical pieces, many of which are lost. Mary, one of Mr. M'Ghie's daughters, had been engaged to Mr. Alexander 
Miller, a surgeon, who was lost at sea. This sad event gave rise to the beautiful song of" Mary's Dream." In 1773, 
Mr. Lowe went to America, where he was for some time tutor in the family of a brother of the celebrated George 
Washington. He next opened an Academy in Fredericksburgh, Virginia, which he abandoned on taking orders in the 
Church of England. Unfortunately, he then married a Virginian lady, whose gross misconduct broke his heart, and 
caused his untimely death in 1798, in the forty-eighth year of his age. Mr. Cromek says, that " Mary's Dream" was 
originally composed by Lowe in the Scottish dialect, but afterwards given in the English form in which it is generally 
known. Mr. C. K. Sharpe declares this older version to be a forgery by Allan Cunningham. See Museum Illustra- 
tions, vol. i. pp. 37, 115. 

The air is evidently modern, and not Scottish in its character, except in a few passages, where the " Scottish snap," 
as Burney calls it, is introduced. Mr. Stenhouse states, that it was composed by J. G. C. Schetky, the eminent violon- 
cello-player and composer, so long resident in Edinburgh; this, however, is flatly contradicted by a member of Mr. 
Schetky 's family, to whom the Editor referred the question. Mr. John Mather, a very clever English musician and 
teacher of music, informed the Editor, on 22d October 1849, that this music and song were published about 1776, and 
that the author of the music was John Relfe. 



» = 72 









Strike up the bag - pipe's bold - est blast, Nor fear a - gain some 






kit - tie cast ;' Our Prince him - sel' has come at last ; Thrice wel - come Roy - al 



Char - lie ! 


O ! ye've been lang o' com - in', 

Lang, lang, 

i ^ EE ES B^P^ 


lang o' com - in'; O ! ye've been lang o' com - in'; Wel-come Roy - al Char - lie ] 

Lang, lang we look'd, frae year to year — 
While gleams o' hope our hearts wad cheer — 
That some kind breeze wad blaw you here, — 
Our ain, our Royal Charlie. 

But, ! ye've been lang o' comin', &e. 

Be blest the day that saw you land, 
And plant your banner on our strand ; 
We'll march where'er you may command — 
And fight for Royal Charlie. 

But, ! ye've been lang o' comin', &c. 

Our Prince by right — our Prince by law ! 
We'll tak' you to your father's ha', 
And crown you King among them a' — 
Our leal — our Royal Charlie ! 

But, ! ye've been lang o' comin, &c. 

Auld Scotland, frae her mountains dun, 
Watch'd like a mither for her son ; 2 
Ye've come at last — our cause is won — 
Thrice welcome Royal Charlie ! 

But, ! ye've been lang o' comin', &c. 

1 Untoward event. 

2 " Lan^; watch'd for you ber darling son :" — This line will suit the accentuation of the tune better. 

" Welcome Rotal Charlie." The words beginning, " When France had her assistance lent," which are given in 
the second volume of" The Scottish Minstrel," to the air of " The auld wife ayont the fire," appeared to us so prosaic 
and spiritless, that we rejected them. Fortunately, the late Captain Charles Gray, R.M., was prevailed upon to write 
verses upon the same subject, to the same air, expressly for " Wood's Songs of Scotland." We are happy to give 
again his animated and characteristic song, which carries us back to the wild and sad days of the '45, and must at 
once supersede the other milk-and-water " Welcome." It appears from Mr. Stenhouse's information, that the tune is 
found in Crockat's MS. Music-Book, written in 1709, under the name of " The old wife beyond the fire." 

The song above noticed, " When France had "her assistance lent," &c, is suggestive of some interesting historical 
facts. In 174-1, France and England being at war, it seems to have occurred to the French ministry that a diversion 
in favour of their army in the Netherlands might be effected by an invasion of England. Accordingly, in that year 
Prince Charles Edward Stuart was called from Rome to Paris, where it was agreed that the French should land 
fifteen thousand soldiers in England under Marshal Saxe, Prince Charles having the chief command. But the French 
invading fleet was not only intercepted by an English fleet, but was dispersed by a tempest. At last, Charles rashly 
resolved to land in Scotland, with the sole support of his own name and private fortune, and the aid of the Jacobites 
who might join his standard on landing. He was dissuaded from the attempt, but persisted. On the 8th July 1745, 
he set sail in a frigate, the Doutelle, accompanied by a French ship of war, the Elizabeth. An English ship of war, 
the Lion, met these two ships— engaged the Elizabeth and disabled her. The Doutelle, having kept aloof in the action, 
made her escape and reached the island of South Uist. There M'Donald of Boisdale represented the madness of the 
enterprise so strongly to Charles, that the latter wished to give it up and return to France. But other counsel pre- 
vailed upon him to land at Moidart, on the 25th July 1745. There Cameron of Lochiel, after arguing in vain with 
Charles on the folly of the enterprise, at last joined him with noble devotedness, though against his own judgment. 
The future career of Charles we need not trace. 



= 69 




m v 4 g 

-* — • 







«==i — *— * 


I sigh and la - ment me in vain, These walls can but 


e - cho my moan ; A - las ! it in - creas - es my pain, To 



think of the 

that are gone. Through the grates of my pri - son I 

pants to be free, My looks they are wild with de - spair. 

Ye roofs, where cold damps and dismay 
With silence and solitude dwell — 

How comfortless passes the day, 
How sad tolls the evening bell ! 

The owls from the battlements cry, 

Hollow winds seem to murmur around, - 

" Mary, prepare thee to die !" 
My blood it runs cold at the sound. 

Unchanged by the rigours of fate, 
I burn with contempt for my foes ; 

Though Fortune has clouded my state, 
This hope shall enlighten its close. 

False woman ! in ages to come, 
Thy malice detested shall be ; 

And when we are cold in the tomb, 
The heart still shall sorrow for me. 

" Queen Mary's Lament." Hitherto, in collections of Scottish songs and melodies, the author of these words and 
the author of the music have been said to be unknown. But even if the author of the words was unknown to the 
Editors of these collections, that did not justify them in altering the lines and transposing the stanzas of the original, 
so as to make a bad song out of a good one. The authoress of the words was Mrs. John Hunter, wife of the cele- 
brated John Hunter, Surgeon, London the youngest child of John Hunter of Kilbride, in the county of Lanark, 

Scotland, and brother of Dr. William Hunter, who built, at his own cost, the Anatomical Theatre and Museum 
in Great Windmill Street, London. Mrs. John Hunter was a daughter of Mr. Home, Surgeon to Burgoyne's 
regiment of light-horse. Her poetical talents are shown in her Poems, published in 1802, T. Payne, London. In 
that volume we find her own version of " I sigh and lament me in vain ;" besides other songs set to music by Haydn 
in his inimitable canzonets ; and " The Spirit's song," and " tuneful voice," also set to music by Haydn— two of 
the finest of his vocal compositions. His music to " tuneful voice," afterwards served as a model to Beethoven for 
his beautiful " Adelaida." Haydn, when in London, in 1791 and 1793, was a frequent and honoured guest in John 
Hunter's house. 

After the second volume of" Wood's Songs of Scotland" was published, the late Mr. George Waterston sent to the 
Editor, for inspection, a half sheet of music, evidently printed many years ago, (probably about the end of last cen- 
tury,) and containing this song with the name of " Signor Giordani" affixed as the author of the music. 











at the 




=?=¥ : 

wha's at the 



wha ? Wha but blythe Jam - ie 

-b — p 



^. : 


Glen, He's come sax miles and ten, To tak' bon - nie Jean - nie 





tak' bon - nie Jean - nie 

He has plighted his troth, and a', and a', 
Leal love to gi'e, and a', and a' ; 

And sae has she dune, 

By a' that's abune, 
For he lo'es her, she loe's him, 'bune a', 'bune a', 
He lo'es her, she lo'es him, 'bune a'. 

Bridal maidens are braw, braw, 
Bridal maidens are braw, braw ; 

But the bride's modest e'e, 

And warm cheek are to me, 
'Bune pearlins and brooches, and a', and a', 
'Bune pearlins and brooches, and a'. 

There's mirth on the green, in the ha', the ha', 
There's mirth on the green, in the ha', the ha', 
There's laughing, there's quaffing, 
There's jesting, there's daffing, 
And the bride's father's blythest of a', of a', 
And the bride's father's blythest of a'. 

It's no' that she's Jamie's ava, ava, 
It's no that she's Jamie's ava, ava, 

That my heart is sae eerie 

When a' the lave's cheerie, 
But it's just that she'll aye be awa', awa', 
It's just that she'll aye be awa'. 

" wha's at the window, wha, wha ?" The words of this song were written by Mr. Alexander Carlile of Paisley ; 
the air is by the late Mr. R. A. Smith. The late Allan Cunningham also wrote words to the same air. In the six- 
teenth century, and early in the seventeenth, a window song of this kind seems to have been very popular in England. 
Some verses of it are sung in three of Beaumont and Fletcher's Plays ; in " The Knight of the Burning Pestle," in " The 
Woman's Prize," and in " Monsieur Thomas." See also a parody in Wedderburne's " Godlie and Spiritual Songs," 1590. 

In Mr. Prior's edition of the works of Oliver Goldsmith, (London, Murray, 1837,) we find an " Essay on the different 
Schools of Music," upon which it is necessary to make some animadversions, as it contains most erroneous state- 
ments with regard to the music of Scotland. The Essay, indeed, as a whole, displays so much ignorance of the 
subject it professes to discuss, that, but for the deserved high reputation of the author in other respects, we would 
have passed it over as altogether unworthy of comment. After stating that the Italian school was founded by Pergo- 
lese, (!) and that of France by Lulli, Goldsmith says : — " The English school was first planned by Purcell. He 
attempted to unite the Italian manner that prevailed in his time with the ancient Celtic carol and the Scotch ballad, 
which probably had also its origin in Italy ; for some of the Scotch ballads, ' The broom of Cowdenknows,' for in- 
stance, are still ascribed to David Rizzio." — Vol. i. p. 175. In one of his Notes, Goldsmith writes : — " It is the opinion 
of the melodious Geminiani, that we have in the dominions of Great Britain no original music except the Irish ; the 
Scotch and English being originally borrowed from the Italians^ And that his opinion in this respect is just, (for 1 
would not be swayed merely by authorities,) it is very reasonable to suppose ; first, from the conformity between the 
Scotch and ancient Italian music* They who compare the old French vaudevilles brought from Italy by Rinuccini, 
with those pieces ascribed to David Rizzio, who was pretty nearly contemporary with him, will find a strong resem- 
blance, notwithstanding the opposite characters of the two nations which have preserved these pieces. When I would 
have them compared, I mean I would have their bases compared, by which the similitude may be most exactly seen. 
Secondly, it is reasonable, from the ancient music of the Scotch, which is still preserved in the Highlands, and which 
bears no resemblance at all to the music of the Low country. The Highland tunes are sung to Irish words, and flow 
entirely in the Irish manner. On the other hand, the Lowland music is always sung to English words." (See p. 114 
for a continuation of the subject.) 

• This subject has beea already discussed, p. 49. — Ed. 



; 76 






*-^— fe-j 3 =M=£^E 

It fell a - bout the Mart - 'mas time, and a 

gay time it was 

^-^ jpP^^l^fe^ 


then, O ! When our gude-wife had puddings to mak', And she boil'd them in the 



-*— ^ 


pan, O ! The wind blew eauld frae north to south, And blew in - to 




,a _, — j — 


- *-«- 

floor, O ! Quoth our gude-man to our gude-wife, " Get up and bar the door, O !' 

" My hand is in my husswyfskip, 1 

Gudeman, as ye may see, ! 
Au' it should na be barr'd this hundred year, 

It's no be barr'd for me, !" 

They made a paction 'tween them twa, 

They made it firm and sure, ! 
Whaever spak the foremost word 

Should rise and bar the door, ! 

Then by there came twa gentlemen, 

At twelve o'clock at night, ! 
And they could neither see house nor ha', 

Nor coal nor candle light, ! 

Now, whether is this a rich man's house, 

Or whether is it a poor, ? 
But never a word wad ane o' them speak, 

For barring o' the door, ! 

And first they ate the white puddings 
And then they ate the black, ! 

Tho' muckle 2 thought the gudewife to hersel', 
Yet ne'er a word she spak', ! 

Then said the ane unto the other — 
" Here, man, tak' ye my knife, ! 

Do ye tak' aff the auld man's beard, 
And I'll kiss the gudewife, !" 

" But there's nae water in the house, 
And what shall we do then, '." 

" What ails ye at the puddin' broo 3 
That boils into the pan, !" 

up then started our gudeman, 

And an angry man was he, ! 
" Will ye kiss my wife before my een, 

And scaud me wi' pudding broo, ?" 

Then up and started our gudewife, 
Gied three skips on the floor, ! 

" Gudeman, ye've spoken the foremost word, 
Get up and bar the door, !" 

l The houeewifeskip, or, rather, bousewifeskep, was, in Scottish cottages, even within the last fifty years, a receptacle for meal or flour, formed 
of coils of straw-rope, somewhat like an inverted bee-hive, {Scotict — Bkep,) and which stood handy for use in a corner of the room. 
2 Much. s Juice or soup 

" Get up and bar the door." This exceedingly humorous Scottish ballad was recovered by old David Herd, and 
inserted in his Collection, vol. ii. p. 159, anno 1776. It appears to be an amplification of the fine old song called 
' Johnie Blunt,' which will be found in the fourth volume of the Museum, p. 376, song 365. It is a curious circum- 
stance that this ballad furnished Prince Hoare with the incidents of his principal scene in his musical entertainment 
of 'No Song no Supper,' acted at Drury-lane, London, 1790, (the music by Storace,) and since, at all the theatres of 
the United Kingdom, with great success. It still continues a favourite on the acting list. Mr. Hoare was also 
indebted to another old Scottish ballad for several other material incidents in the same piece, namely, ' The Freirs of 
Berwick,' written by Dunbar prior to the year 1568, as it is inserted in the Bannatyne Manuscript, in the Library of 
the Faculty of [Advocates] Edinburgh, of that date, and which Allan Ramsay afterwards modernized, in a poem 
called ' The Monk and the Miller's Wife.' " See Museum Illustrations, vol. iii. p. 292. 



' = 96 




u mf. 





And are ye sure the news is true ? And are ye sure he's weel 1 Is 

|igsfeg aggg§^ 


this a time to think o' wark ? Ye jauds, fling bye your wheel. Is this a time to 






-•-•—# — # 


think o' wark, When Co - lin's at the door? Rax 1 me my cloak, I'll to the quay, And 


^tE£ ^^3SE*E$EE£i 

see him come 


For there's nae luck a - bout the bouse, There's 


nae luck at a'; There's lit - tie plea -sure in the house, When our gudeman's a - wa\ 

And gi'e to me my bigonet, 2 

My bishops' satin gown, - 
For I maun tell the bailie's wife 

That Colin's come to town. 
My turkey slippers maun gae on, 

My hose o' pearl blue ; 
'Tis a' to please my ain gudeman, 

For he's baith leal and true. 
For there's nae luck, &c. 

Rise up and mak' 3 a clean fireside ; 

Put on the muckle pot ; 
Gi'e little Kate her button gown, 

And Jock his Sunday coat : 
And mak' their shoon as black as slaes, 

Their hose as white as snaw ; 
It's a' to please my ain gudeman, 

For he's been lang awa'. 

For there's nae luck, &c. 

There's twa fat hens upon the bauk, 

They've fed this month and mair ; 
Mak' haste and thraw their necks about, 

That Colin weel may fare ; 
And spread the table neat and clean, 

Gar 3 ilka thing look braw ; 
For wha can tell how Colin fared, 

When he was far awa.' 

For there's nae luck, &c. 

Sae true bis heart, sae smooth his speech, 

His breath like caller air ; 
His very foot has music iu't, 

As he comes up the stair. 
And will I see his face again ? 

And will I hear him speak ? 
I'm downright dizzy wi' the thought— 

In troth, I'm like to greet. 4 
For there's nae luck, &c. 

The cauld blasts o' the winter wind, 

That thirled through my heart, 
They're a blawn bye, I ha'e him safe, 

Till death we'll never part : 
But what puts parting in my head ? 

It may be far awa' ; 
The present moment is our ain, 

The neist 6 we never saw. 

For there's nae luck, &o. 

Since Colin's weel, I'm weel content, 

I ha'e nae mair to crave ; 
Could I but live to mak' him blest, 

I'm blest aboon the lave : e 
And will I see his face again ? 

And will I hear him speak ? 
I'm downright dizzy wi' the thought — 

In troth, I'm like to greet. 
For there's nae luck, &c. 

1 Reach, or stretch. 

3 A linen cap, or coif. 

3 Make. 

* To shed tears. 

« Remainder. 

" There's nae luck about the house." Although this air is certainly a modern production, the author of it is 
not known. There has been much disputation regarding the authorship of the song; opinions are divided between 
William Julius Mickle, a native of Langholm, well known as the translator of the Lusiad, and Jean Adams, a teacher 
of a day-school at Crawford's-dyke, near Greenock. 



r io ° 




wmm ^ 




Now in her green mantle blythe Na - ture arrays, And lis - tens the lambkins that 







bleat ower the braes, While birds war - ble wel-come in il - ka green sbaw; But to me it's de 




wa'. But to me it's de - light-less, my Nan - nie's a - wa\ 

light-less, my Nan - nie's a - wa'. But to me it's de - light-less, my Nan - nie's a - wa 

The snaw-drap and primrose our woodlands adorn, 
And violets bathe in the weet o' the morn ; 
They pain my sad bosom, sae sweetly they blaw ! 
They mind me o' Nannie — and Nannie's awa'. 

Thou laverock, that springs frae the dews of the lawn, 
The shepherd to warn of the grey-breaking dawn, 

And thou, mellow mavis, that hails the night-fa' ; 
Give over for pity — my Nannie's awa'. 

Come, autumn, sae pensive, in yellow and grey, 
And soothe me wi' tidings o' Nature's decay : 
Tbe dark, dreary winter, and wild-driving snaw, 
Alane can delight me — my Nannie's awa'. 

" My Nannie's awa'." Upon this song Captain Charles Gray, R.M., in his " Cursory Remarks on Scottish Song," 
gives the following Note. Before quoting it, we might perhaps venture to suggest, that Burns' admiration of Clarinda 
may find its remoter parallel in that of Petrarca, early in the fourteenth century, for the lady whom he has rendered 
so celebrated, in verse and prose, under the name of Laura. Petrarca, in his " Epistle to Posterity," calls his regard 
for Laura, " veementissimo, ma unico ed onesto." To say, that a very warm and sincere friendship cannot innocently 
subsist between a married woman and an unmarried man, is not only to contradict daily experience, but to utter a 
licentious libel upon human nature. Were such the case, many of the strongest heart-ties between friends and rela- 
tives must be at once torn asunder, never to reunite in this world. 

" ' My Nannie's awa',' is one of the sweetest pastoral songs that Burns ever wrote. He sent it to Mr. Thomson in 
December 1794, to be united to the old melody of, ' There'll never be peace till Jamie come hame.' In this song the 
Bard laments the absence of Mrs. M'Lehose, (Clarinda,) who had left Scotland to join her husband in the West Indies, 
in February 1792. We may be pardoned, perhaps, for saying a word or two about the lady whose beauty and accom- 
plishments had so captivated our Bard, and inspired hiin with this and some others -of his most beautiful love-songs. 
Burns, having published the second edition of his poems in 1787, was just about to leave Edinburgh when he was 
introduced to Clarinda. One of our Poet's biographers alleges, that he was very tolerant as to the personal charms 
of his heroines ; but as to the wit, beauty, and powers of conversation of Clarinda, there can be no doubt. She seems 
to have completely fascinated him at the very first interview. That Mrs. M'Lehose was no ordinary person is proved 
by her letters, now printed along with those of Burns ; and it is saying much for her, that they do not suffer from 
being placed in juxtaposition with those of the Bard. This romantic attachment between the poet and poetess 
was not of very long duration ; but while it lasted, as many letters passed between them as form a goodly sized 
octavo volume ! The germ of ' Nannie's awa' ' is to be found in one of Clarinda's letters, (see Correspondence, &c, 
p. 185,) written thirty-five days after they became acquainted. They were about to part, and she says : — ' You'll 
hardly write me once a month, and other objects will weaken your affection for Clarinda ; yet I cannot believe so. 
Oh! let the scenes of Nature remind you of Clarinda! In winter, remember the dark shades of her fate; in summer, 
the warmth, the cordial warmth of her friendship; in autumn, her glowing wishes to bestow plenty on all; and let 
spring animate you zoith hopes that your poor friend may yet live to surmount the wintry blast of life, and revive to 
taste a spiring-time of happiness I ' This passage, so beautifully descriptive, in the letter of his fair correspondent, was 
not overlooked by Burns. He says, in reply : — ' There is one fine passage in your last charming letter — Thomson 
nor Shenstone never exceeded it, nor often came up to it. I shall certainly steal it and set it in some future produc- 
tion, and get immortal fame by it. "lis where you bid the scenes of Nature remind me of Clarinda.' The poet was 
as good as his word. Some months after Clarinda had left this country, Burns, reverting to the passage we have 
quoted from her detter, made it his own by stamping it in immortal verse, bewailing the absence of Clarinda in a 
strain of rural imagery that has seldom or never been surpassed." 

The air to which we have here united the words, we believe to be modern ; yet we have not been able to trace it to 
any composer. Like many other airs, it probably owes its present form to several individuals. It appears to have 
passed orally from one singer to another, until Mr. George Croall, Musicseller, Edinburgh,, rescued it a few years ago 
from threatened oblivion. 



> = 100 










Why weep ye by the tide, la - dye ? Why weep ye by 







—9- — 



i !*«— 



ye to 

fc fs 



- est 





sail be his 

Tfcb — I 

1 3 — 

— #— r 

* — 

a- • — 




-f J"j r 


d • 


-V — 


— V— 

— b— 

— * d—f — b — 


bride ; 

And ye 

sail be his bride, la - dye, 


come - ly 
poeo rail. 



seen :" — But aye she loot the tears down fa", For Jock o' Ha - zel - dean. 

" Now let this wilful grief be done, 

And dry that cheek so pale : 
Young Frank is chief of Errington, 

And lord of Langley dale ; 
His step is first in peaceful ha', 

His sword in battle keen :" — 
But aye she loot the tears down fa', 

For Jock o' Hazeldean. 
" A chain o' gold ye sail not lack, 

Nor braid to bind your hair, 
Nor mettled hound, nor managed hawk, 

Nor palfrey fresh and fair ; 

And you, the foremost o' them a', 

Shall ride our forest queen :" — 
But aye she loot the tears down fa', 

For Jock o' Hazeldean. 
The kirk was deck'd at morning-tide, 

The tapers glimmer'd fair ; 
The priest and bridegroom wait the bride, 

And dame and knight were there ; 
They sought her baith by bower and ha' ; 

The ladye was not seen ! — 
She's o'er the border and awa' 

Wi' Jock o' Hazeldean ! 

" Jock 6' Hazeldean." There is mention made by some writers of an old ballad called " Jock o' Hazelgreen," but 
without documentary authority. It appears that Mr. Thomas Pringle gave, in Constable's Magazine, the first stanza 
of the present song, as that of an old ballad which he had heard his mother sing ; and that Sir Walter Scott, upon 
inquiry, adopted that stanza as old, and added to it those that now make up his very popular song of " Jock o' Hazel- 
dean," which he wrote for the first volume of Mr. Alexander Campbell's work, named " Albyn's Anthology." The 
melody, in an older and more Scottish form, occurs in the Leyden MS., No. 50, under the name of " The bony brow ;" 
but we give the version of the air now more generally current. 1 The melody published in Book Second of Jo. Play- 
ford's " Choice Ayres," London, 1679, appears to have been that sung to an imitation of a Scottish song by Thomas 
D'Urfey, in his comedy of" The Fond Husband, or the Plotting Sisters," acted in 1676 ; and closely resembles the air 
given in the Leyden MS. Mr. Stenhouse, in his Note upon " The glancing of her apron," No. 445 of Johnson's 
Museum, says : — " With regard to the tune to which the words were originally adapted, it is evidently a florid set of 
the old simple air of ' Willie and Annet,' which has lately been published in Albyn's Anthology, under the new title 
of ' Jock o' Hazeldean,' a ballad written by Sir Walter Scott." 

Thomas Moore, in the Preface to the fifth volume of his Works collected by himself, London, 1841, remarks — that, 
" with the signal exception of Milton, there is not to be found, among all the eminent poets of England, a single 
musician," — p. v. In the same Preface he touches, gently, upon Sir Walter Scott's deficiency of musical ear. The 
Editor of this work was personally acquainted with Sir Walter Scott, and had his own good-humoured confession that 
he was totally destitute of an ear for music. Sir Walter himself, in his " Autobiography," after speaking of his 
ineffectual attempts at sketching or drawing landscapes, says : — " With music it was even worse than with painting. 
My mother was anxious we should at least learn psalmody ; but the incurable defects of my voice and ear soon drove 
my teacher to despair. 2 It is only by long practice that I have acquired the power of selecting or distinguishing 
melodies ; and although now few things delight or affect me more than a simple tune sung with feeling, yet I am sen- 
sible that even this pitch of musical taste has only been gained by attention and habit, and as it were by my feeling of 
the words being associated with the tune ; although my friend Br. Clarke, and other musical composers, have sometimes 
been able to make a happy union between their music and my poetry." See Lockharfs Life of Scott, vol. i. pp. 73, 74. 

1 A copy of that Leyden MB. was deposited by the Editor in the Library of the Faculty of Advocates on 26th November 1847. 

2 That teacher may hare been ignorant and unskilful, as too many were in Scott's early days. They required to go to school themselves. — Ed. 



• = 138 





o'er the hills that 




1 lo'e weel ; He's o'er the hills we 




daur - na name; He's o'er the hills 

yont Dumblane, Wha soun will get his 






■*- #- 


wel - come hame. My fa - ther's gane to fight for him, My bri - thers win - na 


~ V 









bide at hame, My mi - ther greets and prays for them, And 'deed she thinks they're no' to blame. 
[The succeeding verses begin with the second part of the melody.] 

The Whigs may scoff, the Whigs may jeer, 
But, ah ! that love maun be sincere 
Which still keeps true whate'er betide, 
An' for his sake leaves a' beside. 
He's o'er the hills, &c. 

His right these hills, his right these plains ; 
O'er Highland hearts secure he reigns , 

What lads e'er did, our lads will do ; 
Were I a lad, I'd follow him too. 

He's o'er the hills, &c. 
Sae noble a look, sae princely an air, 
Sae gallant and bold, sae young and sae fair ; 
Oh ! did you but see him, ye'd do as we've done; 
Hear him but ance, to his standard you'll run. 

He's o'er the hills, &c. 

" Hk's o'ke iiie bills that I lo'e weel." A modern Jacobite song — very popular of late years. Neither the 
author of the words nor the author of the music is known. 

We now resume the Note, p. 109, supra. As to the opinion of " the melodious Geminiani," (whose music, by the 
way, is very dry and unmelodious,) it is, like every other opinion, to be valued only so far as it is supported by evi- 
dence. We therefore point to the Collections of Martini, Paolucci, and Choron ; in which are preserved specimens 
of ancient and modern Italian music — ecclesiastical and secular ; in none of which can be found one single melody 
bearing the slightest resemblance to Scottish music. As to Rinuccini, who is said to have brought the " old French 
vaudevilles out of Italy" (!) the mention of him is evidently a mere subterfuge, for it is not pretended that his airs 
have any Scottish character. It is in their bases (!) that we are to seek for the pretended resemblance ! This is 
almost too absurd for a serious answer. Every musician knows, that to any given simple bass may be written an air 
in the Italian or the Scottish, in the military or the pastoral styles; and every series of variations upon a given theme 
and bass by a skilful composer will afford examples of what may be done in this way. Goldsmith's absurdities re- 
garding Purcell's style, as having been compounded of the Italian manner and the ancient Celtic carol and the Scotch 
ballad, we leave to be dealt with by Purcell's countrymen as they think proper. 

When Goldsmith, or rather Geminiani, asserts that there is "in the dominion of Great Britain no original music 
except the Irish," the Welsh music is quite left out of view. As to the Scottish " Highland tunes flowing entirely in 
the Irish manner," we refer to Edward Bunting's and Thomas Moore's Collections of Irish Melodies for disproof of 
the assertion. In short, it is evident that Goldsmith chose to write an Essay upon a subject of which he was pro- 
foundly ignorant. That talented and accomplished Irishman, Thomas Moore, speaks thus of the antiquity of Irish 
melodies : — " Though much has been said of the antiquity of our music, it is certain that our finest and most popular 
airs are modern ; and perhaps we may look no farther than the last disgraceful century for the origin of most of 
those wild and melancholy strains, which were at once the offspring and solace of grief, and which were applied to 
the mind, as music was formerly to the body, ' decantare loca dolentia.' Mr. Pinkerton 1 is of opinion, that not one 
of the Scotch popular airs is as old as the middle of the sixteenth century ; and although musical antiquaries refer us 
for some of our melodies to so early a period as the fifth century, I am persuaded that there are few, of a civilized 
description, (and by this I mean to exclude all the savage ' Ceanans,' ' Cries,' &c., 3 ) which can claim quite so ancient 
a date as Mr. Pinkerton allows to the Scotch." (For a continuation of this subject, see p. 115.) 

1 Dissertation prefixed to the Second Volume of his Scottish Ballads. 

2 Of which some genuine specimens may be found at the end of Mr. Walker's work upon Irish Bards. Mr. Bunting has disfigured his last 
splendid volume by too many of these barbarous rhapsodies. 



• = 80 







Let U3 haste to Kel - vin grove, bon - nie las - sie, O, Through its 





~f' r ~lf- 

#=P = 

P= p-F=g 





ma - zes let us rove, bon - nie las - sie, O, Where the rose in all her pride, Paints the 






hoi - low din - gle side, Where the mid -night fai - ries glide, bon - nie 

Let us wander by the mill, bonnie lassie, 0, 
To the cove beside the rill, bonnie lassie, 0, 

Where the glens rebound the call 

Of the roaring waters' fall, 
Through the mountain's rocky hall, bonnie lassie, 0. 

Kelvin banks are fair, bonnie lassie, 0, 
When in summer we are there, bonnie lassie, 0, 
There, the May-pink's crimson plume 
Throws a soft, but sweet perfume, 
Round the yellow banks of broom, bonnie lassie, 0. 

Though I dare not call thee mine, bonnie lassie, 0, 
As the smile of fortune's thine, bonnie lassie, 0, 

Yet with fortune on my side, 

I could stay thy father's pride, 
And win thee for my bride, bonnie lassie, 0. 

But the frowns of fortune lour, bonnie lassie, 0, 
On thy lover at this hour, bonnie lassie, 0, 
Ere yon golden orb of day 
Wake the warblers on the spray, 
From this land I must away, bonnie lassie, 0. 

Then farewell to Kelvin Grove, bonnie lassie, 0, 
And adieu to all I love, bonnie lassie, 0, 

To the river winding clear, 

To the fragrant scented brier, 
Even to thee, of all most dear, bonnie lassie, 0. 

When upon a foreign shore, bonnie lassie, 0, 
Should I fall midst battle's roar, bonnie lassie, 0, 

Then, Helen ! shouldst thou hear 

Of thy lover on his bier, 
To his memory shed a tear, bonnie lassie, 0. 

" Kelvin Grove." It appears that this highly popular song was erroneously ascribed to Mr. John Sim in " The 
Harp of Renfrewshire," in which it was first published, but was soon after claimed by Mr. Thomas Lyle, Surgeon, 
Glasgow, who proved his title to it in a satisfactory manner. A Note on the verses, in Messrs. Blackie's " Book of 
Scottish Song," informs us, that " Kelvin Grove, a picturesque and richly wooded dell, through which the river Kelvin 
flows, lies at a very short distance to the north-west of Glasgow, and will in all probability soon be comprehended 
within the wide-spreading boundaries of the city itself. At one part of it (North Woodside) is an old well, called 
the Pear-Tree-Well, from a pear-tree which formerly grew over it. This used to be, and still is to some extent, a 
favourite place of resort for young parties from the city on summer afternoons." Mr. Lyle's own version of the song 
is here given, from pages 228, 229, of a Collection of Ballads and Songs, published by him in 1827. It has one stanza 
more than in " The Harp of Renfrewshire," and in other respects differs from the copy in that work. The air appeared 
in the second volume of " The Scottish Minstrel," where it is called " Kelvin Water." Its original name was, " the 
shearin's no for you," which was the first line of a song now deservedly forgotten. 

We now resume Mr. Moore's remarks, p. 114, supra. " But music is not the only subject on which our taste for 
antiquity is rather unreasonably indulged ; and, however heretical it may be to dissent from these romantic specula- 
tions, I cannot help thinking that it is possible to love our country very zealously, and to feel deeply interested in her 
honour and happiness, without believing that Irish was the language spoken in Paradise ;' that our ancestors were 
kind enough to take the trouble of polishing the Greeks ; 2 or that Abaris the Hyperborean, was a native of the North 
of Ireland. 3 By some of these archaaologists it has been imagined that the Irish were early acquainted with counter- 
point; and they endeavour to support this conjecture by a well-known passage in Giraldus, where he dilates, with such 
elaborate praise, upon the beauties of our national minstrelsy. But the terms of this eulogy are too vague, too deficient 
in technical accuracy, to prove that even Giraldus himself knew anything of the artifice of counterpoint. There are 
many expressions in the Greek and Latin writers which might be cited, with much more plausibility, to prove that they 
understood the arrangement of music in parts ; yet I believe it is couceded in general by the learned, that however 
grand and pathetic the melody of the ancients may have been, it was reserved for the ingenuity of modern science to 
transmit ' the light of song' through the variegating prism of ' harmony.' " — See Irish Melodies, No. III. A Prefatory 
Letter to the Marchioness Dowager of D . Dublin, January, 1810. (See p. 120 for the conclusion of this subject.) 

1 See Advertisement to the Transactions of the Gaelic Society of Dublin. In the Preface to Win. Shaw's Gaelic and English Dictionary, 4to, 
1780, it is quite gravely asserted that Gaelic was the language originally spoken by Adam and Eve in Paradise — Ed. 

2 O'Halloran, vol. i. part i chap. 6. a Id., ib. chap, 7. 









O where ha'e ve 


: C? 

Lord Ron - aid, my 

-a- * y -^ 

O where ha'e ye been, Lord Ron - aid, my 







I ha'e been wi' my sweet - heart, mo - ther, make my bed 









soon, For I'm wea - ry wi' the hunt - ing, And fain wad lie down. 

What got ye frae your sweetheart, Lord Ronald, my son ? 
What got ye frae your sweetheart, Lord Ronald, my son ? 
I ha'e got deadly poison, mother, make my bed soon, 
For life is a burden that soon I'll lay down. 

" Lord Ronald, my son." The two stanzas of the ancient ballad, sent by Burns to Johnson's Museum, together 
with the simple and pathetic melody, were recovered by Burns in Ayrshire. Sir Walter Scott, in his " Minstrelsy of 
the Scottish Border," gives six stanzas of the ballad as sung in Ettrick Forest, under the title of ,; Lord Randal." 
We refer to Sir Walter's remarks upon the ballad, and his reasons for preferring the name "Randal" to "Ronald." 
Sir Walter Scott refers to " a very similar song, in which, apparently to excite greater interest in the nursery, the 
handsome young hunter is exchanged for a little child, poisoned by a false stepmother." This nursery song is called 
" The croodlin' doo," i.e., " The cooing dove." Buchan, in his " Ballads of the North," gives a similar song, called 
" Willy Doo." In Jamieson's " Illustrations of Northern Antiquities," is found a fragment of a Suffolk version of the 
ballad, and also a translation of a German ballad, called " Grossmutter Schlangenkoechin," i.e., " Grandmother 
Adder-cook." Mr. Kinloch, in his " Ancient Scottish Ballads," 1827, gives another version often stanzas, under the 
name of" Lord Donald." Burns (Reliques) observes, that " this air, a very favourite one in Ayrshire, is evidently the 
original of Lochaber. In this manner most of our finest more modern airs have had their origin. Some early minstrel, 
or musical shepherd, composed the simple original air ; which being picked up by the more learned musician, took the 
improved form it bears." We demur to Burns's theory of " musical shepherds," and " improved form of the simple 
original air by more learned musicians." But we have no reason to doubt Burns's opinion that the air of " Lord 
Ronald " was the original of " Lochaber." In Dr. John Leyden's MS. Lyra-Viol Book, formerly referred to in this 
work, p. 12, et passim, we find (No. 2) an air called " King James' March to /Hand." It differs considerably from 
the air of " Lord Ronald," and from the more modern air of " Lochaber ;" but still resembles both so strongly as to 
point to the same family origin. But the air of "Lord Ronald" consists of one strain, as happens in most of our 
oldest Scottish melodies ; while " Lochaber," and " King James' March to //-land," consist each of too strains; thus 
throwing back the greater probability of antiquity upon " Lord Ronald." James II. landed at Kinsale in Ireland, on 
12th March 1C89. The Battle of the Boyne took place on 30th June 1690, when James was defeated, and fled back to 
France. As to the name of" Limerick's Lamentation," given by the Irish to a modified version of the air of "Lord 
Ronald," the title may refer to the capitulation of Limerick to William's forces, soon after the Boyne battle; or to the 
taking of Limerick, in 1649, by Cromwell's troops, aided by pestilence and treachery. 










Fare - well to 


ber, fare - well to 








19 # -*- 

Jean, Where heart - some wi* 


I ha'e mo - ny day been ; For Loch - 

:= r =ft 



i= l ^ _^ = F=*= H — = r3= 

a - ber no 







^~J— P- P- 

may - be re - turn to Loch 



-f~* — z^d- 


ber no more. These tears that 

-— , — Ps,— 



shed they are all for my dear, And no for the dan - gers at 







tend - ing on weir ; Tho' borne on rough seas to a far dis - tant 








-»- • 

to Loch - 


Though hurricanes rise, though rise every wind, 
No tempest can equal the storm in my mind ; 
Though loudest of thunders on louder waves roar, 
There's naething like leavin' my love on the shore. 
To leave thee behind me my heart is sair pain'd ; 
But by ease that's inglorious no fame can be gain'd ; 
And beauty and love's the reward of the brave ; 
And I maun deserve it before I can crave. 

Then glory, my Jeanie, maun plead my excuse ; 
Since honour commands me, how can I refuse 1 
Without it, I ne'er can have merit for thee ; 
And losing thy favour I'd better not be. 
I gae then, my lass, to win honour and fame ; 
And if I should chance to come glorious hame, 
I'll bring a heart to thee with love running o'er, 
And then I'll leave thee and Lochaber no more. 

'• Lochaber no more." In the preceding Note upon " Lord Ronald," we have discussed the derivation of " Loch- 
aber " from that tune, or from " King James' March to Jrland," as in the Leyden MS. The received air of " Loch- 
aber" is evidently of modern construction, because in it the fourth and the major seventh of the tonic (or key-note) 
are freely employed. The verses here given to the air of " Lochaber" were written by Allan Ramsay. In the house 
of Mr. George Farquhar, Edinburgh, Robert Burns was a frequent and honoured guest. One evening there, Miss 
Farquhar (the late Mrs. Colonel Graham, Duddingstone, the Editor's mother) played the tune of " Lochaber," on the 
harpsichord, to Burns. He listened to it attentively, and then exclaimed, with tears in his eyes, " Oh, that's a fine 
tune for a broken heart!" Miss Farquhar stood so high in Burns's estimation, that he offered to write to ber a 
journal of his intended tour in the Highlands of Scotland. A trifling circumstance prevented him from completing 
his offer of so valuable a communication. 



: 100 






Roy's wife of Al - di - val - loch, Roy's wife of AI - di - val - loch 





-4 4-^^—4 


Wat ye how she cheat - ed rae, As I cam' o'er the braes o' Bal - loch ? 





vow'd, she swore she wad be mine ; She said she lo'ed me best of o - nie ; But 





the fie - kle, faith - less quean, She's ta'en the carle 1 an' left her John-nie ! 





Roy's wife 



val - loch, Roy's wife of Al 

di - 

val - loch, 

Wat ye 

how she cheat - ed me 





cam o er 

the braes 

o' Bal -loch? 

0, she was a can tie 8 quean, 

Weel could she dance the Highland walloch ; 
How happy I, had she been mine, 
Or I been Roy of Aldivalloch. 
Roy's wife, &o. 

1 An olj man. 

Her hair sae fair, her een sae clear, 

Her wee bit mou' sae sweet and bonnie ; 
To me she ever will be dear, 
Though she's for ever left her Johnnie. 
Roy's wife, &c. 

2 Merry. 

" Roy's Wife of Aldivalloch." This song was written by Mis. Grant of Carron, afterwards Mrs. Dr. Murray of 
Bath. Burns also wrote verses for the same air, beginning, " Canst thou leave me thus, my Katy?"— but the lady's 
verses have always held their ground to this day. David Laing, Esq., in his Additional Illustrations to Johnson's 
Museum, (vol. iv. pp. 368, 369,) says :—" Through the obliging inquiries of John P. Grant, Esq., (son of the late Mrs. 
Grant of Laggan,) I have since learned the following particulars respecting this lady. Her maiden name was Grant ; 
and she was born near Aberlour, on the banks of the river Spey, about the year 1745. She was twice married, first 
to her cousin, Mr. Grant of Carron, near Elchies, on the river Spey, about the year 1763 ; and, secondly, to a physician 
in Bath, whose name is stated to have been Brown, not Murray. She died at Bath some time about 1814, and is not 
known to have written any other song than ' Roy's Wife.' " Mr. Laing is satisfied, from the authority of Mr. George 
Thomson and Mr. Cromek, that the lady's second husband was Dr. Murray of Bath. The tune is old, and was called 
" The Rufiian's Rant ;" a name happily superseded by " Roy's Wife." We have no doubt that it is a Highland air. 
In several passages, modern improvers of our old melodies have, as usual, introduced flourishes that are incompatible 
with the simple character of this air. We have rejected these flourishes, as we shall always do, whenever we find 
them disfiguring our national Scottish airs. From the earlier part of the last century, the process of altering and 
pretended improving of these airs, seems to have gone on, up to a certain point, when it was found necessary to stop 
short in disguising them. The rage for embellishment as applied to these simple melodies, may be traced to the time 
when they became so fashionable in England, and got into the hands of public singers in London. For some hints on 
this subject, see Note, p. 94. Italian fioritwe, of a particular kind, were not less liberally applied in those days to 
every melody than they have been of late years, with a change of form. National airs could not escape the con- 
tagion. The celebrated Catalani, on one of her first appearances in Edinburgh, about forty-five years ago, sang " Roy's 
Wife of Aldivalloch," with great applause. Row she sang it we have no record; but we have no doubt that the 
powers of her magnificent voice were not subdued for the occasion. About thirty -five years ago, we became per- 
sonally acquainted with Catalani, and conversed with her regarding her own art. We were struck with the childlike 
playfulness and simplicity of character in the great singer and actress. She bitterly lamented her want of early 
education ; and added, (in her own language,) " I have talents that never were fully developed !" 



= 108 









O, Wil - lie brew'd a peck o' maut, And Rob and Al - Ian 

cres. ed animate*. 







cam' to prie ;' Three blyth - er lads, that lee - lang 2 night, Ye wad - na fand in 

-=— r> — 



t/ — — ^ v 



Christ - en - die. We are na fou', we're no that fou*, But just a wee drap 




• =p= 




« -*=- 

-* — 1^ 

in our e'e; The cock may eraw, the day may daw 7 , But aye we'll taste the bar - ley bree. 3 

Here are we met three merry boys; 

Three merry boys I trow are we : 
And mony a nieht we've merry been, 

And mony mae we hope to be ! 

It is the moon — I ken her horn — 
That's blinkin' in the lift 4 sae hie ; 

She shines sae bricht to wyle us hame, 
But by my sooth she'll wait awee. 6 

Wha first shall rise to gang awa', 
A cuckold coward loon is he ; 

Wha last beside his chair shall fa', 
He is the king amang us three. 

1 To taste. 3 Livelong. s Ale, beer — sometimes, whisky. 4 The firmament. 5 A short time — but here to be understood ironically. 

" 0, Willie brew'd a peck o' biaut." In the autumn of 1789, Burns wrote this excellent convivial song, which 
his friend Allan Masterton, a writing-master in Edinburgh, set to music. Masterton died about the year 1800. The 
song was written on the occasion of a " house-warming" at William Nicol's farm of Laggan, in Nithsdale. " We had 
such a joyous meeting," says Burns, " that Mr. Masterton and I agreed, each in his own way, that we should cele- 
brate the business." William Nicol was one of the masters of the High School of Edinburgh. He was Burns's com- 
panion in his tour of the Highlands, and died in the summer of 1797. l>r. Currie, in his Life of Burns, gives an 
interesting account of Nicol. The air, as composed by Masterton, appears in Johnson's Museum, vol. iii. p. 301 ; but 
that set has long been superseded by the one here given, which is an improvement on Masterton's air, by some un- 
known singer or arranger. 

Captain Charles Gray, R.M., in No. XIV. of his " Cursory Remarks on Scottish Song," when speaking of Burns as 
having "contributed no less than two hundred and twenty-eight songs" to Johnson's Museum, adds — "we take 
credit to ourselves for being the first to claim for him the merit of his collecting and preserving above fifty Scottish 
melodies. This labour of love alone would have entitled Burns to the thanks and gratitude of his countrymen, had 
he done nothing else ; but it was lost in the refulgent blaze of his native genius, which shed a light on our national 
song that shall endure as long as our simple Doric is understood. In the lapse of ages even the lyrics of Burns may 
become obsolete, but other bards shall rise, animated with his spirit, and reproduce them, if possible, in more than 
their original beauty and splendour. We hold our national melodies to be imperishable. As no one can trace their 
origin, it would be equally futile to predict their end. Their essence is more divine than the language to which they 
are wedded." 



• = 84 






VT-? 2 - 


t, -g- " -g. 

"Will ye gang to the Hie - lands, Lee - zie Lind - say? "Will ye 

-ft 1 R 1 — 

— f — 



— s- 

/lb J 


-" » 


(A\ J * 

m • 


. • 



L* •* 

— 1 


— P— 

to the 

— fi— » 

Hie - lands 

me £ . 

Will ye 




Hie - lands, Lee - zie Lind - say ? My brido and my dar - ling to 


" To gang to the Hielands wi' you, Sir, 

Waud bring the saut tear to my e'e, 
At leaving the green glens and woodlands, 

And streams o' my ain countrie." 
" Oh, I'll shew you the red -deer roaming, 

On mountains where waves the tall pine ; 
And, far as the bound of the red-deer, 

Ilk moorland and mountain is mine. 

" A thousand claymores I can muster, 

Ilk blade and its bearer the same ; 
And when round their Chieftain they rally, 

The gallant Argyle is my name." 
There's dancing and joy in the Hielands, 

There's piping and gladness and glee, 
For Argyle has brought hame Leezie Lindsay, 

His bride and his darling to be ! 

" Leezie Lindsay." The old air, probably Highland, was sent by Burns to Johnson, together with the first four 
lines of the song. Burns intended to send more verses, but never did. The other verses here given were written by 
Mr. Robert Gilfillan. The greater part of the old ballad of "Lizie Lindsay" was sent by Professor Scott of Aberdeen 
to Robert Jamieson, Esq., who published the fragment in the second volume of his " Popular Ballads and Songs, 1 ' 
1806, pp. 149-153. Burns evidently had the first stanza of the old ballad in view, though he changed the fourth line 
— " And dine on fresh curds and green whey?" 

Referring to Note, p. 115, supra, we now conclude, for the present, our remarks upon Irish music. No Irishman 
can feel and admire more than we do, the beauty and originality of the best Irish melodies. They are, indeed, rare 
gems that sparkle brightly on Erin's laurel-wreath. But we regret that these fine melodies were not earlier collected 
by some skilful musician competent to a task so difficult. Irish airs were floating about Europe long before Edward 
Bunting's attempt was made to form a Collection of them in 1792, from the performances of the old Harpers then 
assembled at Belfast, from all parts of Ireland, and subsequently, when he visited some of those Harpers at their own 
dwellings. Bunting was then a very young man, having been born in February 1773. His biographer, in the Dublin 
University Magazine for 1847, states, (p. 67,) that on the occasion of the meeting of Harpers at Belfast in 1792, 
" Bunting was employed by the Committee of Directors to commit to writing the melodies of which they were, in many 
instances, the sole depositaries." The task committed to Bunting by the Directors he could not possibly perform on 
the spot, unless he were able to write down the notes of the airs and harmonies as fast as they were played — an im- 
practicable feat, as every good musician well knows. So that unless those Harpers had played over the airs again 
and again to Bunting, and paused every now and then to give him time to write them down, measure by measure, his 
record of the airs taken on the spot at Belfast cannot be considered as authentic. Indeed, his biographer (he. cit. 
p. 67) says, that the collecting of these airs " necessarily required a cultivation of his (Bunting's) powers, to enable 
him to effect it." Bunting himself says, (Preface to his third volume, 1840,) that " immediately after the termination 
of the meeting in 1792, he commenced forming his first collection. For this purpose he travelled into Derry and 
Tyrone, visiting Hempson, after his return to Magilligan in the former county, and spending a good part of the 
summer about Ballinascreen and other mountain districts in the latter, where he obtained a great number of admir- 
able airs from the country people. His principal acquisitions were, however, made in the province of Connaught." 
His biographer (loc. cit. p. 70) tells us, regarding Bunting's second volume, published in 1809, that " he went on 
journeying, and collecting, and arranging what he gathered, .... and having the provinces travelled by agents 
qualified to note down the melodies for him, as well as the original Irish words to which they were sung." We much 
doubt the efficiency of those agents in the musical department. It will be here observed that Bunting himself arranged 
or harmonized the airs for the pianoforte. Passing over at present the many harmonic crudities which all these 
arrangements exhibit, what shall we say of the gross deception which Bunting practised in 1815, upon " many of the 
most eminent musicians in Paris," when he deliberately and gravely assured them that the harmonies he played to 
the airs " were equally Irish, and contemporaneous with the airs themselves !" — (loc. cit. pp. 71, 72.) After that, who 
can have faith in Bunting? In the Introduction to "Wood's Songs of Scotland," pp. iii, iv, wc have animadverted 
upon some of Bunting's untenable assertions. 



•= 80 










The smil - ing Spring comes in re - joie - ing, And sur - ly Win - ter 


grim - ly flies ; 



■i- ■ 1 


— « ■ — 

j s m m. 

Now crys - tal clear are the fall - ing wa - ters, And 


bun - nie blue are the sun - ny skies. 


Fresh o'er the moun - tains breaks 




forth the morn - ing, The ev' - ning gilds the 

o - cean's swell; 





crea-tures joy in the sun's re - turn - ing, And I re - joice in my bon - nie Bell. 

The flow'ry Spring leads sunny Summer, 

And yellow Autumn presses near ; 
Then in his turn comes gloomy Winter, 

Till smiling Spring again appear. 
Thus seasons dancing, life advancing, 

Old Time and Nature their changes tell ; 
But never ranging, still unchanging, 

I adore my bonnie Bell. 

" The Smiling Spuing comes in rejoicing." Mr. Stenhouse's Note is as follows : — " This song, beginning, ' The 
smiling morn comes in rejoicing,' is another production of Burns, who also communicated the air to which the 
words are united in the Museum." Museum Illustrations, vol. iv. p. 355. The song affords one of the most remark- 
able examples of irregular versification that we meet with in the poetry of Burns. In Note, p. 78, of this work, we 
have touched upon irregular verses written in order to suit certain airs, and have quoted Thomas Moore and others 
on the subject. But we must say that in this song Burns has not been so happy as usual in his adaptation of words 
to music. In several lines of the second stanza especially, there is unnecessary and unsuitable irregularity of 
metrical structure, which prevents the same notes being sung to the words of the second as to those of the first stanza. 
Above all, the last line of the second stanza consists of seven syllables, which cannot be sung to the same detached 
notes as the last line of the first stanza, consisting of nine syllables. The air, sent by Burns to the Museum, we 
think presents marks of an English Border melody, if not of an Irish tune. Mr. Moore, in the Preface to the fifth 
volume of his Poetical Works, 1841, has the following passage regarding Burns as a song-writer : — " Having thus got 
on Scottish ground, I find myself awakened to the remembrance of a name which, whenever song-writing is the 
theme, ought to rank second to none in that sphere of poetical fame. Robert Burns was wholly unskilled in music ; 
yet the rare art of adapting words successfully to notes, of wedding verse in congenial union with melody, which, 
were it not for his example, I should say none but a poet versed in the sister art ought to attempt, has yet, by him, 
with the aid of a music, to which my own country's strains are alone comparable, been exercised with so workmanly 
a hand, as well as with so rich a variety of passion, playfulness, and power, as no song-writer, perhaps, but himself, 
has ever yet displayed." See pp. x, xi. Mr. Moore was misinformed when he said that " Burns was wholly unskilled 
in music." See pp. 47, 70. of this work. 










Lou-don's bon - nie woods and braes, I maun leave them 

las - sie; 



Wha can thole 1 when Bri-tain's faes Would gi'e Britons law, las-sie? 

Wha would shun the 




field o' dan-ger? Wba to fame would live a stran-ger? Now when free - dom bids a-venge her, 

i^EE ^g^^ ^^jg^ 

Wha would shun her ca', las-sie? Lou -don's bon - nie woods and braes, I-Ia'e seen our hap - py 




bri - dal days, And gen - tie hope shall soothe thy waes, When I am far a - wa', lus - sie. 

Hark ! the swelling bugle rings, 

Yielding joy to thee, laddie ; 
But the dolefu' bugle brings 

Waefu' thochts to me, laddie. 
Lanely I may climb the mountain, 
Lanely stray beside the fountain, 
Still the weary moments counting, 

Far frae love and thee, laddie. 
O'er the gory fields o' war, 
Where Vengeance drives his crimson car, 
Thou'lt maybe fa', frae me afar, 

And nane to close thy e'e, laddie. 

Oh, resume thy wonted smile, 

Oh, suppress thy fears, lassie ; 
Glorious honour crowns the toil 

That the soldier shares, lassie : 
Heaven will shield thy faithfu' lover, 
Till the vengeful strife is over ; 
Then we'll meet, nae mair to sever, 

Till the day we dee, lassie : 
Midst our bonnie woods and braes, 
We'll spend our peacefu' happy days, 
As blythe's yon lichtsome lamb that plays 

On Loudon's flow'ry lea, lassie. 

i Suffer ; endure. 

" Loudon's Bonnie Woods and Braes." These verses were written by Robert Tannahill, and appear to have been 
very popular for ten or twelve years before the close of the last European war. Loudon Castle, in Ayrshire, was the 
seat of the Earl of Moira, afterwards created Marquis of Hastings, while Governor-General of India in 1816. This 
song is said to be commemorative of his parting, upon foreign service, from his young wife the Countess of Loudon. 

Referring to pp. 62, 95, 99, 100, 103, 104, 109, 114, 115, of this work, we think we have there shown satisfactorily 
that all ascriptions of the composition of Scottish melodies to Rizzio (or Riccio) are founded in error ; and we now 
take leave of the subject by a short recapitulation of the facts. 1. Rizzio 's name is not mentioned as a composer of 
music of any kind for a hundred and sixty years after his death. 2. He lived little more than four years in Queen 
Mary's household, and for much the greater part of that time in the capacity of a menial. 3. The Italian writer, 
Tassoni, makes no mention of Rizzio's pseudo-compositions. 4. Thomson, in his " Orpheus Caledonius," printed in 
London in 1726, was the first to ascribe seven Scottish airs to Rizzio ; and, in the second edition of his work, 1733, 
ashamed of the imposture, entirely suppressed Rizzio's name. 5. James Oswald, a noted impostor, in his Second 
Collection of Scottish airs, also printed in London, again resumed the ridiculous deception regarding Rizzio, while 
the contemporaneous Edinburgh Collections of Ramsay, Craig, and M'Gibbon, make no mention of Rizzio. Craig, 
1730, states that the airs are " the native and genuine product of the country." 6. We have shown Geminiani's 
opinions regarding Rizzio, and Scottish and other music, to be absurdly erroneous ; and the opinions of his blind and 
ignorant follower, Oliver Goldsmith, to improve greatly in error and absurdity upon those of Geminiani and others. 
If any Rizzio MSS. should turn up, like the Skene, and Straloch, and Leyden, we should welcome them heartily as 
very wonderful curiosities. 



(• = 100 






sun has gane down o'er the lof - ty Ben - lo - mond, 





- s— *- 


left the red clouds to pre - side o'er the scene, While lone - ly I stray in 



calm sim - mer gloam-m', To muse on sweet Jes - sie, the flower o' Dun-blane. How 






sweet is the brier wi' 

saft fauld - in' blos.som! And sweet is the birk wi' its 







man - tie o 7 green ; Yet sweet - er and fair - er t and dear to this bo - som, Is 






love - ly young Jes - sie, the flower o' Dun-b!ane. Is love - ly your.g Jes - sie, Is 




: -v 




love - ly young Jes - sie, Is love - ly young Jes - sie, the flower o' Dun - blane. 

She's modest as onie, and blythe as she's bonnie ; 

For guileless simplicity marks her its ain ; 
And far be the villain, divested o' feeling, 

Wha'd blight in its bloom the sweet flower o' Dun- 
Sing on, thou sweet mavis, thy hymn to the ev'ning, 

Thou'rt clear to the echoes of Calderwood glen ; 
Sae dear to this bosom, sae artless and winning, 

Is charming young Jessie, the flower o' Dunblane. 

How lost were my days till I met wi' my Jessie ! 

The sports o' the city seem'd foolish and vain ; 
I ne'er saw a nymph I could ca' my dear lassie, 

Till charm'd wi' sweet Jessie, the flower o' Dun- 
Though mine were the station o' loftiest grandeur, 

Amidst its profusion I'd languish in pain, 
And reckon as naething the height o' its splendour, 

If wanting sweet Jessie, the flower o' Dunblane. 

" Jessie, the Flower o' Dunblane." The words were written by Robert Tannahill, of whom some account has 
been given in this work, pp. 3, 56, 75. Tannahill's words were immediately set to music by the late Robert Archi- 
bald Smith, who is also noticed, pp. 56, 75, 109. Smith was brought to Edinburgh in 1823, by the late Rev. Dr. 
Andrew Thomson, and appointed by him precentor in St. George's Church. He died at Edinburgh on 3d January 
1829. Not a few of the airs which Smith gave in his "Scottish Minstrel," as ancient Scottish melodies, were 
actually of his own composition, as could even now easily be proved. Whatever may be a man's ingenuity in 
committing musical or literary hoaxes upon the public, the principle of such doings will not bear the slightest 











I ha'e seen great anes, and sat in great ha's, 

feasts made for prin - ces, wi' prin - ces I've been, 


Where the 






-m « 


lords and 'mang la - dies a' co - ver'd wi' braws ; But a sight sae de - light ■ 

great shine o' splend - our has daz - zled my e'en ; 

ful, I 



V — *- 




trow I ne'er spied, 
piu animate. 

As the bon - nie blythe blink o' my 

ain fire - side. 







=P— •- 








ain fire - side, my 

ain fire - side, 

cheer-ing's the blink o' my 

ain fire - side. 

As the succeeding stanzas are each two lines longer than the first, it is necessary in singing them to repeat the second as well as the first 
strain of the melody. Another, and a very objectionable, mode is, however, more generally adopted ; this is, to omit a portion of each 
stanza, and thus accommodate it to the music. 

Ance mair, gude be praised, round my ain heartsome ingle, 

Wi' the friends o' my youth I cordially mingle ; 

Nae forms to compel me to seem wae or glad, 

I may laugh when I'm merry, and sigh when I'm sad. 

Nae falsehood to dread, and nae malice to fear, 

But truth to delight me, and friendship to cheer ; 

Of a' roads to happiness ever were tried, 

There's nane half so sure as ane's ain fireside. 

My ain fireside, my ain fireside, 

there's nought to compare wi' ane's ain fireside. 

When I draw in my stool on my cosey hearth-stane, 
My heart loups sae light I scarce ken't for my ain ; 
Care's down on the wind, it is clean out o' sight, 
Past troubles they seem but as dreams of the night. 
I hear but kend voices, kend faces I see, 
And mark saft affection glent fond frae ilk e'e ; 
Nae fleechings o' flattery, nae boastings o' pride, 
'Tis heart speaks to heart at ane's ain fireside. 

My ain fireside, my ain fireside, 

there's nought to compare wi' ane's ain fireside. 

" My Ain Fireside." In Cromek's " Remains of Nithsdale and Gallo.way Song," these verses are ascribed to Mrs. 
Elizabeth Hamilton, the authoress of " The Cottagers of Glenburnie," and various other prose works, chiefly relative 
to education." She was the sister of Captain Charles Hamilton, in the service of the East India Company, who was 
also an author. She died about 1817. The air is that given in Johnson's Museum under the title of " Todlen hame." 
This ancient air has been wrought into a variety of modern tunes, under different names ; such as, " Armstrong's 
Farewell," " Robidh donna gorrach," " The days o' Langsyne," " Lude's Lament," " The death of the chief," &c. See 
Museum Illustrations, vol. iii. p. -58. 



• = 92 






dieu, Dun - dee ! from Ma - ry part - ed, Here nae 





mair my 

lot maun lie ; 

W ha can 

bear, when 



heart - ed, 



Scenes that speak of 

joys gane bye ! 

A* things anco were sweet and 




smil - ine 

In the 


Ma - ry's e'e ; 

Fair - est 





seem - ing's maist he 

guil - ing, Love, 

dieu ! 

dieu, Dun - dee ! 

Like yon water saftly gliding, 
When the winds are laid to sleep ; 

Such my life, when I confiding, 
Gave to her my heart to keep ! 

Like yon water wildly rushing, 

When the north wind stirs the sea ; 

Such the change, my heart now crushing- 
Love, adieu ! adieu, Dundee ! 

" Adieu, Dundee !" The air is found in tablature in the Skene MS. already referred to in this work, p. iv. of 
Introduction, et passim. The late William Dauney, Esq., Advocate, who published the translation of the Skene 
MS., with an able Dissertation, &c, was one of the best amateur singers and violoncello players in Scotland. Soon 
after the publication of that work he went to Demerara, where he held the office of Solicitor-General. Universally 
esteemed for his abilities and his amiable manners and character, he had the prospect of rising there to higher 
honours, when the fever of the country cut him off prematurely on 28th July 1843. He was born on 27th October 
1800. Before he left Scotland, he requested Mr. Finlay Dun and the Editor of this work to harmonize for him some 
of the airs from the Skene MS., to which words were to be written by two Edinburgh gentlemen. Three of these airs 
were accordingly published in 1838 in that form. " Adieu, Dundee !" was one of these. It is now reprinted by per- 
mission of Mrs. Dauney, the proprietress of the music, and of Charles Neaves, Esq., Advocate, Sheriff of Orkney, who 
is the author of the expressive and appropriate verses written for the old air at the request of his intimate friend 
the late Mr. Dauney. In the Museum Illustrations, vol. i. p 102, Mr. Stenhouse makes the following remarks upon 
the air of " Bonnie Dundee," as given, No. 99 of the Museum : — " This air appears in Skene's MSS. under the title 
of ' Adew, Dundee.' It is therefore certain that the song was a well-known favourite in Scotland long before the 
year 1598." As to the probable date of the Skene MS., we have already touched upon that subject, p. iv. of Intro- 
duction, and in the Note, p. 1 of this work. Mr. Stenhouse's assertion, that the air, " Bonnie Dundee," given in 
Johnson's Museum, appears in Skene's MS. under the title of " Adew, Dundee," is incorrect ; and clearly proves 
that Mr. Stenhouse could not translate the tablature of the Skene MS. The two airs are by no means identical, 
as any one may easily see who takes the trouble to compare them together. 















Saw ye my wee thing ? Saw ye mine ain thing ? Saw ye my true love 

a is- 


down on yon lea? Cross'd she the mea-dow yes - treen at the gloam - in'? 



fe±= £ESE^g 


o m o w- 

Sought she the burn - ie whar flow'rs the haw - tree ? Her hair it is lint - white ; her 





—i — 

roll - ing e'e ; 


is milk - white ; 

Dark is the blue o' her 

poco rail. 


P ^^ ljJJJSl 





Red, red her ripe lips, and sweet - er than ros - es : Whar could my wee thing wan - der frae me? 

I saw na your wee thing, I saw na your ain thing, 

Nor saw I your true love down on yon lea ; 
But I met my bonnie thing late in the gloamin', 

Down by the burnie whar flow'rs the haw-tree. 
Her hair it was lint- white ; her skin it was milk- 
white ; 

Dark was the blue o' her saft rolling e'e ; 
Red were her ripe lips, and sweeter than roses : 

Sweet were the kisses that she ga'e to me. 

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

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

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

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

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

It was then your Mary ; she's frae Castle-Cary ; 

It was then your true love I met by the tree ; 
Proud as her heart is, and modest her nature, 

Sweet were the kisses that she ga'e to me. 
Sair gloom'd his dark brow, blood-red his cheek grew, 

Wild flash'd the fire frae his red rolling e'e ! — 
Ye's rue sair this morning your boasts and your scorn- 

Defend ye, fause traitor ! fu' loudly ye lie. 

Awa' wi' beguiling, cried the youth, smiling : — 

Aff went the bonnet ; the lint-white locks flee ; 
The belted plaid fa'ing, her white bosom shawing, 

Fair stood the loved maid wi' the dark rolling e'e ! 
Is it my wee thing ! is it my ain thing ! 

Is it my true love here that I see ! 
Jamie, forgi'e me ; your heart's constant to me ; 

I'll never mair wander, my true love, frae thee! 

" Saw ye my wee thing ?" Mr. Stenhouse says, — " This charming ballad, beginning, ' Saw ye my wee thing ? 
saw ye my ain thing V was written by Hector Macneil, Esq., author of the celebrated poem of ' Will and Jean,' and 
several other esteemed works. It first appeared in a periodical publication, entitled ' The Bee,' printed at Edinburgh 
in May 1791. Mr. Macneil informed the writer of this article, that the tune to which his song is adapted in the 
Museum is the genuine melody that he intended for the words." See Museum Illustrations, vol. v. p. 393. The 
melody given in the Museum, No. 443, is entitled, "The wee thing, or Mary of Castle-Cary;" it is now quite 
unknown, having been supplanted in the public favour by the beautiful and well-known air, " Bonnie Dundee ;" in a 
future page, however, we shall revive this forgotten melody, which ought not to be altogether lost sight of. "Bonnie 
Dundee" is nearly the same air as that which we have just before given from the Skene MS. with words by Charles 
Neaves, Esq., Advocate, under the title of " Adieu, Dundee !" The air, " Adew, Dundie," from the Skene MS., is the 
more simple and touching of the two. The Editor's translation of it was first published in Mr. Dauney's " Ancient 
Scottish Melodies," No. 24, p. 225. See Mr. Dauney's remarks upon the air, pp. 2G6, 267, of the same work. 



r =r ' 






O, Bes - sie Bell, and Ma - ry Gray, They were twa bon - nie 
JV7 m=— —m ^m ^ 

a J*? J J1W = 



«— a- 


es ; They biijg'd a bow'r on yon burn-brae, And theek'd it ower wi' 


§3EpEg^p =te^#=t -h^—^rjj. 

£$—*-z£^E z^z^I^£E^ z^^r-^ — ^—^. 




Bes - sie Bell I lo'ed yes - treen, -And tliocht 1 ne'er could 

al - ter ; But Ma - ry Gray's twa paw - kie e'en Gar'd a' my fan - cy 


Bessie's hair 's like a liut-tap, 

She smiles like a May mornin', 
AYhen Phoebus starts frae Thetis' lap, 

The hills wi' rays adornin' ; 
White is her neck, saft is her hand, 

Her waist and feet fu' genty, 
Wi' ilka grace she can command : 

Her lips, 0, wow ! they're dainty. 

Mary's locks are like the craw, 
Her e'en like diamond's glances ; 

She's aye sae clean, redd-up, and braw 
She kills whene'er she dances. 

Blythe as a kid, wi' wit at will, 
She blooming, tight, and tall is, 

And guides her airs sae gracefu' still ; 
0, Jove, she's like thy Pallas ! 

Young Bessie Bell and Mary Gray, 

Ye unco sair oppress us ; 
Our fancies jee between ye twa, 

Ye are sic bonnie lasses. 
Wae's me ! for baith I canna get ; 

To ane by law we're stinted ; 
Then I'll draw cuts, and tak' my fate, 

And be wi' ane contented. 

" Bessie Bell and Mars' Gray." Mr. Stenhouse's Note upon this song is as follows : — " The first stanza of this 
song is old, the rest of it was written by Ramsay. Thomson adapted Ramsay's improved song to the old air in his 
Orpheus Caledonius, in 1725, from whence it was copied into the first volume of Watt's Musical Miscellany, printed 
at London in 1729. The tune also appears in Craig's Collection in 1730, and in many others subsequent to that 
period. The heroines of the song, viz., Miss Elizabeth Bell, daughter of Mr. Bell of Kinvaid, Perthshire, and Miss 
Mary Gray, daughter of Mr. Gray of Lyndock, are reported to have been very handsome young ladies, and very 
intimate friends. While Miss Bell was residing at Lyndock, on a visit to Miss Gray, in the year 1666, the plague 
broke out. With a view to avoid the contagion, they built a bower, or small cottage, in a very retired and romantic 
place called Burn-braes, about three-quarters of a mile from Lyndock house. Here they resided a short time ; but 
the plague raging with increased fury, they at length caught the infection, after receiving a visit from a gentleman 
who was their mutual admirer ; and here they both died. They were interred about half a mile from the mansion- 
house ; and Major Berry, the late proprietor of that estate, carefully enclosed the spot, and consecrated it to those 
amiable and celebrated friends. Lyndock is now the property of Thomas Graham, Lord Lyndock, the gallant hero 
of Barossa. Mr. Gay selected the tune of 'Bessie Bell and Mary Gray' for one of his songs in the Beggar's Opera, 
beginning, ' A curse attends that woman's love who always would be pleasing,' acted at London in 1728." See Museum 
Illustrations, vol. ii. pp. 122, 123. In the Additional Illustration, ibid. p. 203, C. K. Sharpe, Esq., writes thus: — 
" Bessie Bell and Mary Gray died of the plague, communicated by their lover, in the year 1645 ; see Pennant, and 
the Statistical Account of Scotland." 

In the county of Tyrone, «' a little to the south of Newton," [Newtown-Stewart,] " are two isolated rounded hills, 
called Bessy Bell and Mary Gray, names belonging to two well-known Scottish ballads, which the Irish assert the 
Scots have stolen from them, as they have many of their national airs and saints." Mr. Ainsworth adds : — " Tradi- 
tion, however, despite of poetry, derives the first name from Baal, formerly propitiated by fires lit on the summit of 
this mountain, as he still is, in an indirect manner, on Midsummer's eve." See " Tyrone and Tyrconnell," by W. F. 
Ainsworth, Esq., p. 431 of Colhim's Magazine for December 1849. 



(•• = 72 







[O] heark'n, and I will tell you how Young Muir - land Wil - lie cam 

=3-*-J — i — =£==3 



here to woo, Tho' he could nei - ther say nor do; The truth I tell to 






But aye he cries, What - e'er be - tide, Mag - gie I'se ha'e to be my bride, With a 






-*■;-•— *- 

: S*=2= 


fal da ra, ral lal da ra, la fal lal da ra, lal da ra 

On his gray yade, as he did ride, 
Wi' dirk and pistol by his side, 
He prick'd her on wi' meikle pride, 

Wi' meikle mirth and glee, 
Out o'er yon moss, out o'er yon muir, 
Till he cam' to her daddie's door, 

With a fal da ra, &c. 

Gudeman, quoth he, be ye within ? 
I'm come your dochter's love to win, 
I carena for making meikle din ; 

What answer gi'e ye me? 
Now, wooer, quoth he, would ye light down, 
I'll gi'e ye my dochter's love to win, 

With a fal da ra, &c. 

Now, wooer, sin' ye are lighted down. 
Where do ye won, 1 or in what town ? 
I think my dochter winna gloom, 

On sic a lad as ye. 
The wooer he stepp'd up the house, 
And wow but he was wond'rous crouse, a 

With a fal da ra, &c. 

The maid put on her kirtle 3 brown, 
She was the brawest in a' the town : 
I wat on him she didna gloom, 

But blinkit bonnilie. 
The lover he stended up in haste, 
And gript her hard about the waist, 

With a fal da ra, &c. 

The maiden blush'd and bing'd 4 fu' law, 
She hadna will to say him na, 
But to her daddie she left it a', 

As they twa could agree. 
The lover gi'ed her the tither kiss, 
Syne 5 ran to her daddie, and tell'd him this, 

With a fal da ra, &c. 

The bridal day it came to pass, 
W' mony a blythsome lad and lass ; 
But siccan 6 a day there never was, 

Sic mirth was never seen. 
This winsome couple straked hands, 
Mess John ty'd up the marriage bands, 

With a fal da ra, &c. 

i Dwell 

2 Brisk ; lively. 

3 An upper garment. 

5 Afterwards. 

6 Such. 

" Muirland Willie." Mr. Stenhouse says : — " This very humorous ballad, beginning, ' Hearken, and I will tell 
ye how,' is published in Ramsay's Tea-Table Miscellany in 1724, with the signature Z, to denote that it was then 
considered to be very old. It was likewise printed in Thomson's Orpheus Caledonius, with the music, in 1725. The 
tune also appears in Mrs. Crockat's Manuscript Collection, written in 1709, now in the Editor's possession." See 
Museum Illustrations, vol. iv. p. 342. With regard to this air, " Muirland Willie," the Editor refers to his Note on 
"My boy Tammie," (p. 30 of this work,) in which he points out different editions of " Muirland Willie," and states 
that " My boy Tammie" is a mere transformation of " Muirland Willie." 



« 63 





z§ -« 

Why should thy 



be pule, 










sor - row's veil ? A\' hy should'st thou 


I wi 


^=l=j =^ 






leave thee. 'Mid my deep - est 


ness, 'Mid my gay - est 




am thine, be 


me ; 

I will ne - ver, ne - ver 


Life's storms may rudely blow, 
Laying hope and pleasure low : 
I'd ne'er deceive thee ; 
I could never, never leave thee ! 
Ne'er till my cheek grow pale, 
And my heart-pulses fail, 
And my last breath grieve thee, 
Can I ever, ever leave thee ! 

" I'll never leave tuee." This beautiful air is unquestionably very old. Sibbald (Chronicle of Scottish Poetry, 
vol. iii. p. 275) is of opinion that the modern version of it is a little corrupted, and that the original air was intended 
to be sung to one of Wedderburne'a Spiritual Ballads, (before 1549,) beginning, — 

" Ah ! my love ! leif me not ! 
Leif me not ! leif me not ! 
Ah ! my love, leif me not, 
Thus mine alone !" 

Although Mr. Stenhouse agrees in this opinion, we doubt whether its truth can be established by any existing evi- 
dence. (See our Note, p. 92.) Mr. Stenhouse's words are: — "This (Sibbald's) opinion appears to be correct, for 
this identical tunc is mentioned in Geddes' 'Saint's Recreation,' written in 1673, as appears from the approbations 
of the Rev. William Raitt, and the Rev. William Colvill, Primar of the College of Edinburgh, both of which are dated 
in August 1673. This work was afterwards printed in 1683. Several of Geddes' pious songs are directed to be sung 
to popular tunes, and he vindicates the practice in the following words : — ' I have the precedent of some of the most 
pious, grave, and zealous divines in the kingdom, who, to very good purpose, have composed godly songs to the tunes 
of such old songs as these, The bonnie broom, I'll never leave thee, We'll all go pull the hadder, and such like, without 
any challenge or disparagement.' " See Museum Illustrations, vol. i. pp. 93, 94. In Mr. William Dauney's Disser- 
tation, p. 38, there is a longer quotation from Geddes. The following passage of that quotation is too curious to be 
omitted : — "It is alleged by some, and that not without some colour of reason, that many of our ayres or tunes are 
made by good angels, but the letters or lines of our songs by devils. We choose the part angelical, and leave the 
diabolical." The set of the air which we publish is chiefly taken from that given by Francis Peacock, No. 15 of his 
" Fifty favourite Scotch Airs," dedicated to the Earl of Errol, and printed in London about 1776. ' It is, in our 
opinion, much superior to the ordinary versions, which have been corrupted by the insertion of embellishments alto- 
gether destructive of the beauty and simplicity of the ancient melody. Peacock was a dancing-master in Aberdeen, 
and a good player on the violin and violoncello. As the words usually sung to the air do not conform to it in their 
accentuation, and require besides an addition to the second strain, at variance with the.rhythm, we have substituted 
other words written for this work by a friend of the publishers. 




' = 76 



^^W^ ^^^ ^^J^to^ 

Wilt thou go, my bon - nie laa - sie, Wilt thou go, my 


las - sie, 


Wilt then go, say ay or no, To the braes a-boon Bo - naw, las -sie? Tho' Don -aid lias nae 





f tt 



mickle fraise,' Wi' Law-land speeches fine, las - sie, What he'll im - part comes frae the heart, Sae 
pueo rait. ^ a tempo. 









let it be frae thine, las - sie. Wilt thou go, my bon -nie las - sie, Wilt thou go, my 


^fc— »^-4 



braw las - sie, Wilt thou go, say ay or no, To the braes a-boon Bo - naw, las - sie ? 

When simmer days deed a' the braes, 
Wi' blossom'd broom sae fine, lassie, 

At milking sheel, 2 we'll join the reel, 
My flocks shall a' be thine, lassie. 
Wilt thou go, &c. 

I'll hunt the roe, the hart, the doe, 
The ptarmigan sae shy, lassie, 

For duck and drake, I'll beat the brake, 
Nae want shall come thee nigh, lassie. 
Wilt thou go, &c. 

For trout and par, wi' canny care, 

I'll wiley skim the flee, lassie ; 
Wi' sic-like cheer I'll please my dear, 
Then come awa' wi' me, lassie, 
" Yes, I'll go, my bonnie laddie, 
Yes, I'll go, my braw laddie, 
Ilk joy and care wi' thee I'll share, 
'Mang the braes aboon Bonaw, laddie.' 

1 Cajoling discourse. 

3 An out-house for catt'e 

" The Braes aboon Boxaw." In the first volume of " The Scottish Minstrel," we find this song and air, but the 
editor of that work indicates that the author is unknown. Messrs. Blackie, in their " Book of Scottish Song," give 
the verses, with merely this Note : — " Written, and music arranged by W. Gilfillan." The air is obviously borrowed, 
in some measure, from the popular dance-tune of "Duncan Davidson," formerly called, "You'll aye be welcome 
back again." Mr. Stenhouse says of " Duncan Davidson," (Museum Illustrations): — "This lively tune was inserted, 
about a century ago, in John Welsh's Caledonian Country Dances, book ii. p. 45. It is also to be found in Oswald's 
Pocket Companion, and several other old collections." " The Braes aboon Bonaw," with the air, was first printed as 
a single-sheet song. 

The Editor has been favoured with the following reply to his letter to Robert Gilfillan, Esq. :— "Leith, 14th March 
1848. I regret I cannot give you any direct information regarding the author of ' The Braes aboon Bonaw.' Twenty- 
one years ago, R. A. Smith wrote me, inquiring if I were the author of the song. In reply, I answered that the song 
was written before I was born, and that my father, then living, believed it to be the composition of a second cousin of 
his own, who, in early life, went abroad, and died shortly after. The few families of Gilfillan in Scotland almost all 
count kin; the history of the clan being as follows :— Originally it belonged to the Isle of Mull; but, during the feudal 
wars, was overcome by a more powerful clan, and completely extirpated. Two of the widows, however, by a coinci- 
dence, tore each twin sons, from whom we have all sprung My father wrote occasional verses on local 

subjects, but none of them were ever printed." 



f = G0 



mollo legalu. 





O, wae's my heart! (), wae's my heart! il, wae's my heart that 


rr=a : 





we should sund - er ! Why, why, should we be forced to p lir t, While 



J ^" 

youth - ful h>ve is true and ten - tier? In all thia wea - ry 



-fV— V 




world of care, There is no taste of earth - ly plea - sure, Like 




pii^ ^g 




that sweet drop so bright and fair, Which gems the cup of true love's trea - sure ! 

Though far away from thee, my love, 

My thoughts will ever seek thy dwelling ; 

For distance cannot all remove 
This faithful heart with fondness swelling ! 

And, should I fall, far, far from thee. 
Amid the storm of warlike thunder, 

My latest breathing words will be — 

" 0, wae's my heart that we should sunder ! 

"0, wae's my heart that we should sunder!" The oldest known fragmentary form of this beautiful air is 
found, under a different name, in the Skene MS., referred to passim in this work. There it is called, " To dance 
about the balzeis dubb," and consists of two strains; the first of four measures, the second of eight. It wants several 
of the passages introduced into the more modern sets, and the closes are different ; but many of the essential 
features of the more modern sets are there. See No. 3 of translated airs in the late Mr. Dauney's " Ancient Scottish 
Melodies." Mr. Stenhouse, in his Note upon No. 131 of Johnson's Museum, says : — "This tune occurs in Skene's 
MSS., written prior to 1598. under the title, ' Alace this night yat we suld Binder,' which was undoubtedly the first 
line of a very ancient song now lost." But this unqualified assertion affords additional proof of what we have repeat- 
edly had occasion to state in the course of this work, viz., that Mr. Stenhouse did not understand the tablature of 
the Skene MS., and could not translate it. He does not take the least notice of " To dance about the balzeis dubb," 
which actually contains the commencement of the modern air, while " Alace this night yat we suld sinder," does not 
begin at all like the modern air, though it contains similar closes. Ramsay wrote two songs for the modern air. 
One, beginning " With broken words and downcast eyes," which was published with the music in the Orpheus Cale- 
donius in 1725; and the other, beginning, " Speak on, speak thus, and still my grief," introduced by him as a song 
in his Gentle Shepherd. Neither of these songs possesses much poetical merit, and neither is well-suited to the 
melody. We have chiefly followed M'Gibbon's set of the air, and give it with new words written by a friend of the 




' = 60 




* ****= £ 

1 — r 



-C •- 





O, I ha'e been on the flow - 'ry banka o* Clyde ! And 








I— »- 

I ha'e seen Tay's sil - ver wa-tera glide; I ken a bon - nie iad 






7— ;S-S- 

^ i — *sg 

Seidlaw's heather brae ; And, oh! in my heart wi' him I'd like to gae ! Ho pu'd the fair -est 




blue-bells, and wreath'd them in my hair; And, oh, in my heart I maun love him e - ver-mair ! 

His e'e is bright as the summer morn to me ; 

Its shade fa's light as the gloamin' on the lea : 

It's no his manly bearing, it's no his noble air, — 

But, oh ! 'tis the soul that gives expression there ! 

We've wander'd "mang the gowd-broom, 1 and by the river side,- 

And, oh ! in my heart, I think I'll be bis bride ! 

1 Golden-broom. 

'■ The Blue Bells of Scotland." The words of this song were written, and presented to the publishers, by 
that talented lady Miss Stirling Graham of Uuntrune. We rejected the old words as very silly, and quite un- 
worthy of the popular air to which they were adapted. " This song appears to be a parody of another written 
by Mrs. Grant of Laggan, beginning, '0 where, tell me where, is your Highland laddie gone?' on the Marquis 
of Huntly's departure for Holland, with the British forces under the command of the gallant Sir Ralph Aber- 
cromby, in 1799. The words are adapted to a modern Scottish air." See Museum Illustrations, vol. vi. p. 480. 
The air given in Johnson's Museum is different from and inferior to that which we find adapted to Mrs. Grant's words 
in Mr. George Thomson's Collection, vol. iii. p. 135, and afterwards in R. A. Smith's Collection, vol. v. pp. 58, 59, to 
nearly the same words as those in Johnson's Museum, vol. vi. pp. 566, 567, with some verbal alterations, and the 
omission of the last stanza. We have, of course, chosen the better and the more popular of the two airs, and which 
appears to us to be of English composition, although hitherto claimed as Scottish. Mr. Stenhouse is in error when 
he says, that the song beginning, " where, and where does your Highland laddie dwell ?" " appears to be a 
parody of another written by Mrs. Grant of Laggan," &c. On the contrary, Mrs. Grant's song has evidently been 
suggested by the words, No. 548 of Johnson, or by the words of a less delicate kind, given, pp. 12, 13, of Joseph 
Ritson's edition of " The North-country Chorister," entitled, " The new Highland lad," and beginning, " There was a 
Highland laddie courted a Lawland lass." It consists of seven stanzas, and Ritson adds the following note : — " This 
song has been lately introduced upon the stage by Mrs. Jordan, who knew neither the words nor the tune." Charles 
Kirkpatrick Sharpe, Esq., says, in the Museum, (vol. vi. pp. 526, 527,) " but there is another set of words, probably 
as old, which I transcribed from a 4to collection of songs in MS. made by a lady upwards of seventy years ago." It 
begins, " 0, fair maid, whase aught that bonny bairn ?" and is of the same character as the song above-mentioned 
given in " The North-country Chorister." The allusion to the Parson and the Clerk in each of these three songs, 
points out their English origin. In " The New Whim of the Night, or the Town and Country Songster for 1801," 
London, C. Sheppard, we find, p. 74, " Blue Bell of Scotland, sung by Mrs. Jordan," and p. 75, a parody upon it, 
called " Blue Bell of Tothill Fields," whose hero is a convict " gone to Botany Bay." 



' = 88 




DonaldCairdV come again ! Donald Caird's come again ! Tell the news in brugh 2 and glen. 

^|3j P^^P^ 

Don -aid Caird's come a - gain ! Don - aid Caird can lilt and sing, Blvthe-ly dance the High-land fling; 

gfegj ^l^fe^^^gil 

>-* >~n^ ~ 


Drink till the gudeman be blind, Fleech 3 till the gudewife be kind; Hoop a leg - lin, 4 clout a pan 3 Or 






r 8 4 

crack a pow wi' o - ny man ; Tell the news in brugh and glen, Don - aid Caird's come a - pain ! 

Donald Caird's come again '. 

Donald Caird's come again .' 

Gar the bagpipes hum amain, 

Donald Caird's come again ! 
Donald Caird can wire a maukin, 5 
Kens the wiles o' dun-deer staukin' ; 
Leisters kipper, 9 makes a shift 
To shoot a muir-fowl i' the drift : 
Water-bailifs, rangers, keepers, 
He can wauk when they are sleepers ; 
Not for bountith, or reward, 
Daur they mell wi' Donald Caird. 

Donald Caird's come again ! 

Donald Caird's come again ! 

Tell the news in brugh and glen, 

Donald Caird's come again ! 
Donald Caird can drink a gill, 
Fast as hostler-wife can fill ; 
Ilka ane that sells gude liquor, 
Kens how Donald bends a bicker :' 
When he's fou, he's stout and saucy, 
Keeps the cantle o' the causey ; 8 
Highland chief and Lawland laird 
Maun gi'e room to Donald Caird. 
1 Caird, or Ceard, (Gaelic,) Tinker. i Burgh. » Flatter. 

6 To spear salmon with a three-pronged weapon. 7 Drinks lustily. 
10 Large pieces of cheese. u Beware of the gallows. 

Donald Caird's come again ! 

Donald Caird's come again ! 

Dinna let the Shirra ken 

Donald Cidrd's come again ! 
Steek the aumrie, 8 lock the kist, 
Else some gear may weel be mist ; 
Donald Caird finds orra things 
Where Allan Gregor fand the tings : 
Dunts o' kebbuck, 10 taits o' woo', 
Whiles a hen and whiles a sow, 
Webs or duds frae hedge or yard — 
Ware the wuddie," Donald Caird ! 

Donald Caird's come again ! 

Donald Caird's come again ! 

Diana let the Justice ken 

Donald Caird's come again ! 
On Donald Caird the doom was stern, 
Craig to tether, 12 legs to airn : 13 
But Donald Caird, wi' muckle study. 
Caught the gift to cheat the wuddie. 
Kings o' aim, and bolts o' steel, 
Fell like ice frae hand and heel ! 
Watch the sheep in fauld and glen, 
Donald Caird's loose again ! 

4 A milk-pail. 6 Snare a hare. 

6 Middle of the roadway. 9 Shut the pantry. 

>* Throat to the halter. >' L gs to fetters. 

" Donald Caird's come again !" This spirited and humorous song was written by Sir Walter Scott for an air in 
the second volume of the work called " Albyn's Anthology," published in 1818, by Alexander Campbell. The tunc 
given in that work to Sir Walter Scott's verses is called " Malcolm Caird's come again," and is by no means a good 
specimen of Highland melody, while the harmonical arrangement given to it is as barbarous as possible. The melody 
we give is quite modern, and some part of it may be traced to an air by George Frederick Handel, in the overture to 
his opera of "Alcina," which was first produced at Covent-Garden Theatre, London, on 16th April 1735. There was 
no style of his time that Handel could not imitate and improve. That air, in his overture to Alcina, shews how open 
Handel's ears were to all styles ; like the ears of every great musician. In it he has not only imitated what Doctor 
Burney called the " Scots snap,"* but has composed a very pleasing air, which might easily pass with many persons 
as Scottish. Mr. Alexander Campbell, the editor of " Albyn's Anthology," shewed to the late Captain C. Gray, R.M., 
the original MS. of " Donald Caird," in the hand-writing of Sir Walter Scott. It was written in a small hand, in 
double columns, on the back of an old letter ; the last stanza standing by itself at the foot of the page. Sir Walter 
Scott, like Pope, often wrote passages of his works upon any pieces of paper that came to hand, as appeared from his 
MSS. formerly in the possession of the late Mr. John Ballantyne. 

* See page 04 of this work. 










Wlia wad - na be in love Wi* bon - nie Mag-gie Lau - der \ 




{==$=±=±=2 — r~\?, 

y 4 y 1 — 4 

^J=F=M^ ^-N 





7 — 7~7 

pi - per methergaun to Fife, And speird what -was't they ca'd her, Ri^ht scorn-ful-)y she answer'd him;" Be- 







gone ye hal- lan-sha- ker! 1 Jog on your gate, ye blad-der-skate, 3 My name is Mag - gie Lau - der." 

Maggie, quo' he, and by my bags, 

I'm fidgin' fain to see thee ; 
Sit down by me, my bonnie bird, 

In troth I winna steer thee : 
For I'm a piper to my trade, 

My name is Rob the Ranter ; 
The lasses loup as they were daft, 

When I blaw up my chanter. 
Piper, quo' -Meg, hae' ye your bags ? 

Or is your drone in order ? 
If ye be Rob, I've heard of you, 

Live you upon the border ? 
The lasses a', baith far and near. 

Have heard o' Rob the Ranter ; 
I'll shake my foot wi' right gude will, 

Gif you'll blaw up your chanter. 

1 A beggarly knave. 

Then to his bags he flew wi' speed. 

About the drone he twisted ; 
Meg up and wallop'd o'er the green, 

For brawly could she frisk it. 
Weel done ! quo' he — play up ! quo' she ; 

Weel bobb'd ! quo' Rob the Ranter ; 
'Tis worth my while to piay indeed, 

When I ha'e sic a dancer. 
Weel ha'e you play'd your part, quo' Meg, 

Your cheeks are like the crimson ; 
There's nane in Scotland plays sae weel, 

Since we lost Habbie Simson.* 
I've lived in Fife, baith maid and wife, 

These ten years and a quarter ; 
Gin ye should come to Anster fair, 

Speir ye for Maggie Lauder. 

3 An indiscreet talker. 

" Magoie Lauder." " This comic ballad was written by Francis Semple of Beltrees, Esq.. in the county of Ren- 
frew, about the year 16-12. This fact is stated on the joint authorities of two of his descendants, viz., the late Mr. 
Semple of Beltrees, who died in 1789, and his relation, the late Mr. Semple of Edinburgh." Museum Illustrations, 
vol. vi. p. 475. The author of the air is not known, but it seems to have made its way to London in the beginning of 
the eighteenth century, having been sung in the Quaker's Opera, performed at Lee and Harper's booth in Bartholo- 
mew Fair, in the year 1728, and also introduced in Gay's Opera of Achilles, printed in 1733. Whether Maggie 
Lauder was a real, or only an imaginary person, we cannot ascertain. In his highly humorous poem of " Anster 
Fair," Professor W. Tennantf has made Maggie Lauder his heroine, in the reign of James V. The scene of the poem 
is the burgh of Easter Anstruther, in the county of Fife, where three fairs were formerly held annually. 

Mr. W. F. Ainsworth, in his paper quoted from in the Note to " Bessie Bell and Mary Gray," supra, p. 127, says : — 
" The Irish are particularly indignant on the subject of ' Maggie Lauder,' of which sweet air the Scots are said to 
have despoiled them .... Mr. Hardiman, in his ' Irish Minstrelsy,' insists upon the immediate restitution of all 
stolen melodies, just as if they could be put into a box and sent by the railway." We Scots do not consider " Maggie 
Lauder" to be a " sweet air," although we think that it is a lively one. It is very unlike an Irish air, and we believe 
that no Irishman can e\ei prove that it is not Scottish, and that it is not a modern air. Lf, in the case of " Bessie Bell 
and Mary Gray," the word Bual is to be converted into " Bessie Bell," at the mere fancy of any Irishman, then there 
can be no end to the fanciful claims of Irishmen upon Scottish airs, and ballads also. Bunting attempted to claim, as 
Irish, the air of " Will you go to the ewebughts, Marion f " but his Irish air (p. 95 and No. 115 of his third Collection) 
has no likeness to the Scottish one. In our Notes to " The Songs of Scotland," we have always frankly ascribed to 
Ireland those airs which we really believed to be Irish, and which had hitherto been claimed by the Scot9. In this 
respect we have acted with more liberality towards the Irish than has been shown by former editors of Scottish 

* See " The Life and Death of the Piper of Kilbarchan, Habbie Simson," in James Watson's Collection of Scots Poems Edinburgh, 1713, 
Part i. pp. 32-35. That clever poem was written by Robert Semple, Esq., of Beltrees, the father of the author of " Maggie Lauder." 
t Professor of Oriental Languages in St. Marys College, St. Andrews. 



1 = 144 



All!, " haclean's welcome." 


■ ^E± 



Come o'er the stream, Char - lie, dear Char - lie, brave Char - lie. Come 



o'er the stream, Char - lie, and dine with Mac - Lean; And. though you be wea - ry, We'll 







make your heart chee - ry, And we? - cwne our Char - He and his loy - al train. 






We'll bring down the red deer, we'll bring down the black steer, The lamb from tin 


* s 


breck - an, and doe front the glen ; The salt sea we 11 bar - ry, and 



bring to our Char - He, The cream from the bo - thy, and curd from the pen. 

Come o'er the stream, Charlie, dear Charlie, brave Charlie, 
Come o'er the stream, Charlie, and dine with MacLean ; 
And though you be weary, we'll make your heart cheery, 
And welcome our Charlie and his loyal train. 
And you shall drink freely the dews of Glen Sheerly, 

That stream in the star-light, when kings dinna ken ; 
And deep be your meed of the wine that is red, 
To drink to your sire and his friend the MacLean. 

Come o'er the stream, Charlie, dear Charlie, brave Charlie, 
Come o'er the stream, Charlie, and dine with MacLean ; 
And though you be weary, we'll make your heart cheery, 
And welcome our Charlie and his loyal train. 
If aught will invite you, or more will delight you, 

'lis ready — a troop of our bold Highlandmen 
Shall range on the heather, with bonnet and feather, 

Strong arms and broad claymores, three hundred and ten. 

" Come o'er the stream, Charlie." In " Songs by the Ettrick Shepherd," 1831, we find the following Note by 
James Hogg : — " I versified this song at Meggernie Castle, in Glen- Lyon, from a scrap of prose, said to be the trans- 
lation, verbatim, of a Gaelic song, and to a Gaelic air, sung by one of the sweetest singers and most accomplished and 
angelic beings of the human race. But, alas ! earthly happiness is not always the lot of those who, in our erring 
estimation, most deserve it. She is now no more, and many a strain have I poured to her memory." 




f =66 










Ar - gyle is my name, and you may think it strange, To live at a court, yet 





ne - ver to change : To fac - tion, or ty - ran - ny, e - qua) - ly foe ; The 





^= ^= r~r: j, 



good of the land's the sole mo - tive I know. The toes of my coun - try and 



E ^z^-H-m 



-» » 


King I have faced ; 
I, il a piacere. 


Iii ci - ty or hat - tie I ne'er wa 

^^ a tempo. 

dis - graced : I've 

p*— 1^-^=M'— P-U 



done what I could for my coun - try's weal ; Now I'll feast up - on bannocl;s o' bar - ley-meal. 

Ye riots and revels of London, adieu ! 
And Folly, ye foplings, I leave her to you ! 
For Scotland I mingled in bustle and strife — 
For myself I seek peace and an innocent life : 
I'll haste to the Highlands, and visit each scene 
With Maggie, my love, in her rocklay 1 o' green ; 
On the banks o' Glenaray what pleasure I'll feel, 
While she shares my bannock o' barley-meal ! 

And if it chance Maggie should bring me a son, 
He shall fight for his King as his father has done ; 
I'll hang up my sword with an old soldier's pride— 
Oh, may he be worthy to wear't on his side ! 
I pant for the breeze of my loved native place, 
I long for the smile of each welcoming face — 
I'll aff to the Highlands as fast's I can reel, 
And feast upon bannocks o' barley-meal. 

1 A short cloak. 

" Ahgyle is my Name." The words given in the present work were written by the late Sir Alexander Boswell of 
Auchinleck, but are only a modification of the older words. In his Note on No. 5G0 of the Museum, Mr. Stenhouse 
says : — " This ballad is universally attributed to John Campbell, the renowned Duke of Argyle and Greenwich, whose 
uncorrupted patriotism and military talents justly entitled him to be ranked among the greatest benefactors of his 
country. He died on the 4th of October 1743, in the sixty-third year of his age. The tune is of Gaelic origin." The 
present Editor would rather say that the tune is very probably of Irish origin. Certainly it has never been claimed 
by Ireland, nor ever appeared in any collection of Irish melodies. It may therefore be a Scottish imitation of the 
Irish style. Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe, Esq., writes the following Note on the ballad, p. 523, vol. i. of Museum : — 
" This song is older than the period here assigned to it ; and if the name of Maggie is to be trusted, can only apply to 
the first Marquis of Argyle, whose wife was Lady Margaret Douglas, daughter of the Earl of Morton. He was so 
very notorious a coward, that this song could have been made by nobody but himself, unless to turn him into ridi- 
cule." Pope, in the Epilogue to his Satires, Dialogue ii., verses 86, 87, speaks thus in praise of the Duke of Argyle 
and Greenwich : — 

" Argyll, the state's whole thunder born to wield, 
And shake alike the senate and the field." 

One of his biographers says of him— " In private life the Duke's conduct was highly exemplary. He was an affec- 
tionate husband and an indulgent master. He seldom parted with his servants till age had rendered them incapable 
of their employments ; and then he made provision for their subsistence. He was liberal to the poor, and particularly 
to persons of merit in distress : but though he was ready to patronize deserving persons, he was extremely cautious 
not to deceive any by lavish promises, or leading them to form vain expectations." 











lay thy loot' 1 in mine, lass, la mine, lass, 

mine, lass ; And 


B=|- £ ?=gi=^=^ 



swear on thy white hand, lasa, That thou wilt he my ain 
P ft 

ilave to Love's un - 







bound - ed sway, He aft has wrought me mei - fcle wae ; But now lie is 







1U '. 

(lead - lie fae, Un - less thuu'lt be my ain. 

lay thy loot' in mine, lass, In 







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

The next verse begins at the sign :$: 

There's mony a lass has broke my rest, 
That for a blink 5 1 ha'e lo'ed best ; 
But thou art queen within my breast 

For ever to remain ! 
lay thy loof in mine, lass, 
In mine, lass, in mine, lass. 
And swear on thy white hand, lass, 

That thou wilt be my ain. 

1 Piilm of the hand. 

- A short time. 

" Lay thy Loof in mine, Lass." " This song was written by Burns for the Museum. It is adapted to the 
favourite old tune, called The Cordwainer's March, which, in former times, was usually played before that ancient 
and useful fraternity at their annual procession on St. Crispin's day. The tune is also preserved in Aird's first 
volume of Select Airs, and other collections." See Museum Illustrations, vol. vi. pp. 491, 492. This air of " The 
Cordwainer's March " suggests to us a Russian air that resembles it in some leading passages, and is found in a MS. 
Collection of Russian airs, made in 1817-18, by Dr. William Howison of Edinburgh, when he was in Russia. We 
here quote the air, No. 29 of Dr. Howison's Collection, and obligingly sent to us by him at our request. The Russian 
title of the song for the air is translated, " I did not know for what." 

Andante Mutto. 

This is an air of one strain, modulating half between A minor and E minor, on which last key it ends. In general, 
Russian airs in a minor key, if they consist of two strains, modulate from the minor to its next relative major ; for 
example, from A to C — and in the second strain modulate back from the relative major to the original minor. Wo 
have more to say upon this subject, and upon minor keys, but must postpone our remarks to p. 140. 












At Wil - lie's wed-ding on the green, The las - sies, bon-nie witch - es, Were 


^ — > — te 




a' dressed out 


ap - runs clean, And braw white Sun - day mut - dies :' Auld 







Mag - gie bade the lads tak' tent, 2 But Joek would not be - lieve her ; But 





soon the fool his fol - ly kent, For Jen - nie dang the wea - ver. 




flit* - 


- nie 



- nie 



- nit 





- ver ; 




,T1 r% 





/I 1 










# J 


— „ 


-i m 

— £_ 

— t 


— 1 

— £ — : 




— 1 

— v — u 

soon the fool his fol - ly kent, For Jen - nie dang the wea - ver. 

At ilka country dance or reel, 

Wi' her he would be bobbin' ; 
When she sat down — he sat down, 

And to her would be gabbin' : 
Where'er she gaed, baith but and ben, 

The coof 4 would never leave her; 
Aye kecklin' like a cloekin' hen, 
But Jennie dang the weaver. 
And Jennie dang, Jennie dang, 

Jennie dang the weaver ; 
Aye kecklin' like a cloekin' hen, 
But Jennie dang the weaver. 
1 Head-dresses for females. 2 To be on one's guard. 

Quo' he, My lass, to speak my mind, 

In troth I needna swither ; 
You've bonnie een, and if your kind, 

I'll never seek another ; 
He humm'd and haw'd, the lass cried, Peugh ! 

And bade the coof no deave her ; 
Syne snapt her fingers, lap and leugh, 
And dang the silly weaver. 
And Jennie dang, Jennie dang, 

Jennie dang the weaver ; 
Syne snapt her fingers, lap and leugh, 
And dang the silly weaver. 
3 Outer and inner apartments of a house. i Simpleton. 

" Jennie danq the Weaver." This humorous song was written by the late Sir Alexander Boswell, Bart., of 
Auchinleck, mentioned before, p. 102. As to the air. Mr. Stenhouse and others make no mention of its origin ; but 
we quote the following very amusing Note from pp. 308, 309, of Mr. Hugh Paton's " Contemporaries of Burns," &c, 
Edinburgh, 1840 : — " The origin of the air of ' Jennie dang the weaver,' is somewhat curious. The Rev. Mr. Gardner, 
minister of the parish of Birse in Aberdeenshire, well known for his musical talent and for his wit, was, one Saturday 
evening, arranging his ideas for the service of the following day, in his little study, which looked into the court-yard 
of the manse, where Mrs. Gardner, secunda — for he had been twice married — was engaged in the homely task of 
' beetling' the potatoes for supper. To unbend his mind a little, he took up his Cremona, and began to step over the 
notes of an air he had previously jotted down, when suddenly an altercation arose between Mrs. Gardner and Jock, 
the ' miaister's-man ' — an idle sort of weaver from the neighbouring village of Mary well, who had lately been engaged 
as man-of-all-work about the manse. ' Here, Jock,' cried the mistress, as he had newly come in from the labours of 
the field, ' gae wipe the minister's shoon.' ' Na,' said the lout, ' I'll do nae sic thing : I cam' here to be yir plough- 
man, but no yir flunky; and I'll be d d gif I'll wipe the minister's shoon !' ' Deil confound yir impudence !' said 

the enraged Mrs. Gardner, as she sprung at him with a heavy culinary instrument in her hand, and giving iiim a 
hearty beating, compelled him to perform the menial duty required. The minister, highly diverted with the scene, 
gave the air he had just completed the title of ' Jennie dang the weaver.' This is supposed to have occurred about 
the year 1"4G." Se non e vero, e ben trovato ! On page 82 of the second volume of Wm. Thomson's " Orpheus Cale- 
donius," published at London in 1733. we find a tune called " Jenny beguil'd the Webster," which is the same, with 
a few slight differences, as that called "Jennie dang the Weaver." 




,•• =<;o 

air, " i ha'e laid a herrin' in saut." 

m — g 




Now bank and brae are clad in green, And scat - ter'd cow - slips 

B-£t= £=l=g 


sweet - ly spring ; By Gir - van's fai 


baunt - ed stream Tlie bird - ies flit 



wan - ton wing ; By Cassil - lis' banks, when ev'n - ing fa's, Tbere let my Ma - ry 






k ' <s 

meet wi' me, There catch her ilk - a glance o' love, The bon - nie blink o' Ma - ry's e'e. 

The chicl wha boasts o' warld's wealth 
Is aften laird o' meikle care ; 

But Mary she is a' my ain, 

And Fortune canna gi'e me mair. 

Then let me stray by Cassillis' banks, 
Wi' her, the lassie dear to me, 

And catch her ilka glance o' love, 
The bonnie blink o' Mary's e'e> 

" The bonnie blink o' Mart's e'e." The words here given to the air of " I ha'e laid a herrin' in saut," were 
written by Richard Gall, a native of Linkhouse near Dunbar. They are printed in his Poetical Works, 1 vol. 8vo, 
Edinburgh, 1819. Gall was bred a carpenter, but afterwards served as a compositor in the printing-office of Mr. 
Ramsay, Edinburgh, and finally became Mr. Ramsay's clerk. He died in 1801, aged twenty-five. 

" Mr. John Stafford Smith, in the first volume of his Musica Antiqua, published at London in 1812, gives us the 
following words of ' A very popular song in the early part of Henry the Eighth's reign' : — 

' Joan, quoth John, when wyll this be? 
Tell me when wilt thou marie me, 
My corne, and eke my calf and rents, 
My lands, and all my tenements? 
Saie Joan, said John, what wilt thou doe ? 
I cannot come every day to woe.' 

" Mr. Smith, in the same work, also gives the original air to these words, with a bass of his own composition, and 
affirms that the Scots have borrowed their old song of ' I canna come ilka day to woo,' from this English source. But 
there is not the smallest ground for such a conjecture. The old Scottish air is totally different from the English one. 
The former, which is uncommonly cheerful and lively, and extremely well adapted to the nature and spirit of the 
words, bears the marks of genuine antiquity; it commences on the third, and ends on the fifth of the key. The latter 
is a stiff and awkward tune, and is as opposite to the general style of the old Scottish airs as night is to day. The 
incidents in both songs are likewise totally different. The solitary line, ' I cannot come every day to woo,' is no 
doubt nearly the same in both copies ; but if the composer of either of these songs did borrow a line at all, it is just 
as likely that the English poetaster took his line from the old humorous Scottish ballad, as that the minstrel who 
framed the latter borrowed a single phrase from such a composition as that published so lately for the first time by 
Mr. Smith. Is it not absurd to affirm that the Scots have laid claim to an English song, which has not the least 
affinity to their own Scottish song, either in sound or in sense ? David Herd has preserved a fragment of a song, 
apparently still older than that inserted in the Museum which is here annexed. 

' I ha'e layen three herring a' sa't ; 

Bonnie lass, gin ze'll tak' me, tell me now ; 
And I ha'e brew'n three pickles o' mau't, 

And I cannae cum ilka day to woo,' " &c. 

See Museum Illustrations, vol. iii. pp. '22?, 220. 



• = 100 


r.P 9 



^ N V 




Peg - gy's face, my Peg - gy's form, The frost of her - unit ■ 








age might warm; My Peg - gy's worth, my Peg - gy's mind, Might charm the first of 




J > t 

hu - man kind. 

I love my Peg - gy's an - gel air, Her face so tru - ly 







heav'n - ly fair, Her na - tive grace so void of art, But I a - dore my Peg - gy's heart. 

The lily's hue, the rose's dye, 
The kindliug lustre of an eye ; 
Who but owns their magic sway, 
Who but knows they all decay ! 

The tender thrill, the pitying tear, 
The generous purpose nobly dear, 
The gentle look that rage disarms— 
These are all immortal charms ! 

" My Peggy's Face." " This song was written by Burns in 1787, for the second volume of the Museum, but having 
been mislaid, it did not make its appearance till the publication of the last volume of that work. In a letter, inclosing 
the song and the fine air to which it is adapted, the bard thus addresses Mr. Johnson : — ' Dear Mr. Publisher, I hope, 
against my return, you will be able to tell me from Mr. Clarke if these words will svdt the tune. If they don't suit, I 
must think on some other air, as I have a very strong private reason for wishing them in the second volume. Don't 
forget to transcribe me the list of the Antiquarian music. Farewell. — R. Bcrns.' Burns alludes to the manuscript 
music in the library of the Antiquarian Society, Edinburgh. Mr. George Thomson has inserted this song in the third 
volume of his Collection ; but the name of the heroine, iu place of ' Peggy,' is changed for that of ' Mary,' and the 
words are directed to be sung to the tune called ' The ewie wi' the crooked horn.' These alterations, however, do not 
appear to be for the better. It will generally be found, that the tune which the poet himself had in view when com- 
posing a song, if not superior, is, at least, more in unison with the sentiments expressed, than any other that cau be 
selected." See Museum Illustrations, vol. vi. pp. 439, 440. 

Referring to Note, p. 137, supra, we resume, for a moment, the subject of Russian melodies. The musical instru- 
ments in common use among the Russian peasantry must have had much influence in the structure of their national 
airs. We must notice what we consider as a very erroneous theory, just broached by a lady of remarkable literary 
talent. Miss Harriet Mavtineau, in her " Eastern Life, Present and Past," recently published, makes some universal 
assertions regarding the " minor key," which we cannot receive as true, seeing that they are contradicted, in nume- 
rous cases, by facts well established. Miss Martineau says : — " I do not know whether all the primitive music iu the 
world is in the minor key ; but I have been struck by its prevalence among all the savage, or half-civilized, or unedu- 
cated people whom I have known. The music of Nature is all in the minor key — the melodies of the winds, the sea, 
the waterfall, birds, and the echoes of bleating flocks among the hills; and human song seems to follow the lead, till 
men are introduced at once into the new world of harmony and the knowledge of music in the major key. Our crew 
(Nile boatmen) sang always in unison, and had evidently no conception of harmony. I often wished that I could sing 
loud enough to catch their ear amidst their clamour, that I might see whether my second would strike them with any 
sense of harmony ; but their overpowering noise made any such attempt hopeless. We are accustomed to find or 
make the music which we call spirit-stirring in the major key ; but their spirit-stirring music, set up to encourage 
them at the oar, is all of the same pathetic character as the most doleful, and only somewhat louder and more rapid." 
In the first place, we should like to know if this clever writer is practically acquainted with music, and if she is 
aware of the elements of sound that constitute a minor key, or a major hey ? Nest, we may ask, how any one of 
accoustical perceptions so obtuse as to be obliged to use an ear-trumpet, can possibly distinguish musical intervals, 
and the differences between major and minor ones ? These are necessary questions preliminary. We shall resume 
this subject at p. 145. 



: 108 


E 01 IN 


f$^m> m£ 





The last gleam o' sun - set in o - cean was sink - in", O'er 




moun-tain air meadow-land glint-in'' fare-weel; An' thou-sands o 1 stars in the heavens were blinkin', As 








bright as the e'en o' sweet Ma - ry Mac • neil. A* glow - in' wi' glad - ness she 





^^— '- 

leari'd on her lo - ver, Her een tell - ing se - crets she thought to con - ceal : 



mE^m^ ^w^m^- 

fond - ly they wander'd whar nane might dis- co- ver. The tryst o* young Ronald an' Ma-ry Mac -neil. 

! Mary was modest, and pure as the lily 

That dew-draps o' mornin' in fragrance reveal ; 
Nae fresh bloomin' flow'ret in hill or in valley 

Could rival the beauty of Mary Macneil. 
She moved, and the graces play'd sportive around her ; 

She smiled, and the hearts o' the cauldest wad thrill; 
She sang, and the mavis cam' listenin' in wonder, 

To claim a sweet sister in Mary Macneil. 

But ae bitter blast on its fair promise blawin', 

Frae spring a' its beauty an' blossoms will steal ; 
An' ae sudden blight on the gentle heart fa'in', 

Inflicts the deep wound nothing earthly can heal. 
The simmer saw Ronald on glory's path hiein' — 

The autumn, his corse on the red battle-field ; 
The winter, the maiden found heart-broken, dyin' ; 

An' spring spread the green turf o'er Mary Macneil ! 

" Mart Macneil." The author of this song was Erskine Conolly, a native of Craill, in Fifeshire. He was bred a 
bookbinder, aud followed that occupation for some time, but eventually settled in Edinburgh as a Messenger-at- 
Arms.* One of his old frieuds says of him : — " His gentle and amiable manners rendered him very popular, even in 
the exercise of his painful duties. Besides his song of ' Mary Macneil,' which appeared in the Edinburgh Intelli- 
gencer, 23d December 1840, Conolly wrote, ' We sat beside the trysting-tree,' published in the same paper, 16th 
December 1840, and, ' There's a thrill of emotion,' printed along with the two former in the third series of the 
' Whistle Biukie,' by Mr. D. Robertson, Glasgow, in 1842. The poetical talent shown in these, makes us regret that 
he did not write more in the same style. His occasional ' Addresses' in verse, delivered to the Chapters of the Muso- 
manik Society of Anstruther, held in Edinburgh, will not soon be forgotten by those who mingled in these few but 
pleasant symposia. He died at Edinburgh on 7th January 1843, aged about forty-three." The air to which this 
song was written is called " Kinloch of Kinloch," and was composed by George Kinloch, Esq. of Kinloch. The second 
strain of the melody has been slightly altered in order to adapt it to the words. 

* Me?aengers-at-Arms are officers subservient to the Supreme Courts of Session and Justiciary in Scotland; and their proper business is to 
execute all Royal letters, either in civil or criminal cases. 



: C9 






f^£mm ^E ^Y \ -ji! 

but a 


to re- hearse My 

ew - le s praise in 


' — • * 





pro - per verse, I'd sound it forth as loud and fierce As ev - er 

pi - per s 


i N 

— i 

v — 


— I 8 *"* 





— -f- 




— * — 




— 1> 


» f~~ 

Tin & 

\ J 


i : i. 


• * 

d . 

■v\) • • . 

^ * 





y 1/ 

drone could blaw. The 

ew - ie 


the crook 

- it 

horn ! 


had kent her 

(/, 1 f \ V • f 


r K -* 


\ t> 

/I ft I P \ i ■/ 


m r 


l> !\ ! 

P S n 

f (I s . " u r i u & 


• J 1 




a ft J 

Vm r L, | r r r 


' k - 


^ • 

• M « ^ 



H • 

might ha'e sworn, Sic a ewe was nev - er Lorn, Here - a - bout, nor 


a - wa . 

I never needed tar nor keil, 
To mark her upo' hip or heel ; 
Her crookit hornie did as weel, 

To ken her by amang them a'. 
She never threaten'J scab nor rot, 
But keepit ay her ain jog-trot ; 
Baith to the fauld and to the cot, 

Was never sweirt to lead nor ca\ 
Cauld nor hunger never dang ' her, 
Wind nor weet could never wrang her ; 
A nee she lay an ouk 2 and langer 

Furth aneath a wreath o' snaw. 
When ither ewies lap the dyke, 
And ate the kail for a' the tyke, 
My ewie never play'd the like, 

But tye'd 8 about the barn wa'. 
A better, or a thriftier beast, 
Nae honest man could weel ha'e wist ; 
For, silly thing, she never mi9t 

To ha'e, ilk year, a lamb or twa. 
The first she had I ga'e to Jock, 
To be to him a kind o' stock ; 
And now the laddie has a flock 

0' mair nor thirty head ava\ 
I lookit aye at even for her, 
Lest mischanter shou'd come o'er her, 
Or the foumart 4 might devour her, 

Gin the beastie bade awa'. 
My ewie wi' the crookit horn 
Weel deserved baith gerse and com ; 
Sic a ewe was never born, 

Hereabout, or far awa'. 

1 Overcame 

2 A week. 

Yet, last ouk, for a' my keeping, 
(Wha can speak it without greeting ?) 
A villain cam', when I was sleeping, 

Sta' my ewie, horn and a'. 
I sought her sair upo' the morn ; 
And down aneath a buss o' thorn, 
I got my ewie's crookit horn, 

But my ewie was awa'. 

! gin I had the loon that did it, 
Sworn I have, as weel as said it, 
Though a' the world should forbid it, 

I wad gi'e his neck a thra'. 

1 never met wi' sic a turn 

As this, sin' ever I was born ; 
My ewie wi' the crookit horn, 

Silly ewie, stown awa'. 
! had she deid o' crook or cauld, 
As ewies do when they are auld, 
It wadua been, by mony fauld, 

Sae sair a heart to nane o's a'. 
For a' the claith that we ha'e worn, 
Frae her and hers sae aften shorn ; 
The lose o' her we cou'd ha'e borne, 

Had fair strae-death ta'en her awa'. 
But thus, puir thing, to lose her life, 
Aneath a bluidy villain's knife ; 
I'm really fley't that our gudewife 

Will never win aboou't ava. 
! a' ye bards benorth Kinghorn, 
Call your muses up and mourn 
Our ewie wi' the crookit horn, 

Stown frae's, an' fell't an' a' ! 
3 Kibbled. 4 A polecat. 

" The Ewie wi' tee ckookit horn." Mr. Stenhouse says : — " This excellent song, beginning, ' were I able to 
rehearse,' is another production of the Rev. Mr. John Skinner. The verses are adapted to a fine lively Highland reel, 
of considerable antiquity, which received its name from a ' Ewie' of a very different breed ; namely, the whisky-still, 
with its crooked, or rather spiral apparatus." Museum Illustrations, vol. iii. p. 287. Mr. Stenhouse gives the song, 
" with the author's last corrections," which, of course, we have adopted. In the Mote upon " Tullocligorum," p. 26 
of this work, we stated a few particu'ars regarding the Rev. Mr. Skinner. 



( = 92 










4 ■ *— 

Bon - nie la3 - sie, will ye go, Will ye go, 


^ ^^£=fe^^E^ 

will ye go, 

- * a 

Bon - nie las - sie, will ye go To the birka of A - ber - fel - die? f^ow 


m — - -=i > r 

sim - mer blinks on flow' - ry braes, And o'er the crys - tal stream -let plays; Come 

^^^^y^^= EB ^a ^ ^^B 



let us spend the lightsome days In the birka of A - ber - fel - die. Bon - nie las -sie, will ye go, 








4- * 

Will ye go, will ye go, Bon - nie las -sie, will ye go To the birks of A - ber - fel - die ? 

The following verses begin at the sign :$. 

While o'er their head the hazels hing, 
The little burdies blythely sing, 
Or lightly flit on wanton wing, 
In the birks of Aberfeldie. 
Bonnie lassie, &e. 

The braes ascend like lofty wa's, 
The foamin' stream deep-roaring fa's, 
O'erhung wi' fragrant spreadin' shaws, 
The birks of Aberfeldie. 
Bonnie lassie, &o. 

The hoary cliffs are crown'd wi' flow'rs, 
White o'er the linn the burnie pours, 
And, risin', weets wi' misty show'rs 
The birks of Aberfeldie. 
Bonnie lassie, &c. 

Let fortune's gifts at random flee, 
They ne'er shall draw a wish frae me, 
Supremely bless'd wi' love and thee, 
In the birks of Aberfeldie. 
Bonnie lassie, &c. 

" The Birks op Aberfeldie." " This old sprightly air," says Mr. Stenhouse, " appears in Playford's ' Dancing- 
master,' first printed in 1657, under the title of ' A Scotch Ayre.' " The words here given, except the chorus, which 
is old, were written by Burns for Johnson's Musical Museum, in September 1787, while standing under the Falls of 
Moness, near Aberfeldie, in Perthshire. Burns, at that time, was travelling in the Highlands of Scotland with his 
intimate friend William Nicol, one of the masters of the Edinburgh High School. Mr. Lockhart, in bis Life of Robert 
Burns, chap, vi., records a remarkable trait of the pride and passion of William Nicol when Burns and he were 
together at Fochabers ; and of Burns's kind self-denial and breach of etiquette with a Duke, in order to soothe his 
irritated friend. " Burns, who had been much noticed by this noble family when in Edinburgh, hnppened to present 
himself at Gordon Castle, just at the dinner hour, and being invited to take a place at the table, did so, without for a 
moment adverting to the circumstance that his travelling companion had been left alone at the inn in the adjacent 
village. On remembering this soon after dinner, he begged to be allowed to rejoin his friend ; and the Duke of Gordon, 
who now for the first time learned that, he was not journeying alone, immediately proposed to send an invitation to 
Mr. Nicol to come to the Castle. His Grace's messenger found the haughty schoolmaster striding up and down before 
the inn-door, in a state of high wrath and indignation, at what he considered Burns's neglect; and no apologies could 
soften his mood. He had already ordered horses ; and the poet finding that he must choose between the ducal circle 
and his irritable associate, at once left Gordon Castle and repaired to the inn ; whence Nicol and he, in silence and 
mutual displeasure, pursued their journey along the coast of the Moray Frith." — Lockbart's Life of Burns. Regard- 
ing the air, we have to observe, that in the earlier copies, the melody seems to have been disfigured by a misprint of 
the sixth note of the first measure, where three D s occur consecutively, instead of D, E, D. In the present edition 
that wrong note has been altered. 



,• = 66 







-•- . 4 » 


It fell on a day, And a lion - nie sum - mer day, When the 

m ^Em^m 





j * 

corn grew green and yel - low, Tliat there fell out a great dis - pute Ee 







tween Ar - gyle and 



The Duke of jMon-trose has 






writ - ten to Ar - gyle To come in the morn - ing 


K— M^ 




H d. 


-* — * 


lead in his men, by the back o' Dunkeld, To plun - der the bonnie house o' Air - ly 

The lady look'd o'er her window sae hie, 

And, oh ! but she look'd weary, 
And there she espied the great Argyle 

Come to plunder the bonnie house o' Airly. 

" Come down, come down, Lady Margaret," he says, 

" Come down and kiss me fairly, 
Or before the morning clear day -light, 

I'll no leave a standing stane in Airly." 

" I wadua kiss thee, great Argyle, 

I wadna kiss thee fairly, 
I wadna kiss thee, great Argyle, 

Gin you shouldna leave a standing stane in Airly." 

He has ta'en her by the middle sae sma', 
Says, " Lady, where is your drury 1 ?" 

" It's up and down the bonnie burn side, 
Amang the planting of Airly." 

They sought it up, they sought it down, 

They sought it late and early, 
And found it in the bonnie balm-tree 

That shines on the bowling-green o' Airly. 

He has ta'en her by the left shoulder, 

And, oh ! but she grat sairly, 
And led her down to yon green bank 

Till he plunder'd the bonnie house o' Airly. 

" ! it's I ha'e seven braw sons," she says, 
" And the youngest ne'er saw his daddie, 

And although I had as mony mae, 
I wad gi'e them a' to Charlie. 

" But gin mj' good lord had been at hame, 

As this night he is wi' Charlie, 
There durstna a Campbell in a' the west 

Ha'e plunder'd the bonnie house o' Airly." 

1 Treasure). 

" The Bonnie House o'" When Montrose was driven out of Perth by Argyle in September 1644, he 
marched into Angus-shire, where he was joined by the old Earl of Airly and two of his sons, who never forsook him 
in success or disaster. During Montrose's retreat from the Castle of Fyvie in Aberdeenshire, we learn from Sir Walter 
Scott, (History of Scotland,) that " on the road he was deserted by many Lowland gentlemen who had joined him, 
and who saw his victories were followed with no better results than toilsome marches among wilds, where it was 
nearly impossible to provide subsistence for man or horse, and which the approach of whiter was about to render still 
more desolate. They left, his army, therefore, promising to return in summer ; and of all his Lowland adherents, the 
old Earl of Airly and his sons alone remained. They had paid dearly for their attachment to the Royal cause, Argyle 
having (1640) plundered their estates, and burnt their principal mansion, the ' Bonnie bouse o' Airly,' situated on the 
river Isla, the memory of which conflagration is still preserved in Scottish song." We give the ballad as it is pub- 
lished in Messrs. Blackie's Book of Scottish Song, according to John Finlay's version: 



> = 92 




:* P- 


Sweet Sir, for your cour - te - sie, When ye come by the Bass, then, 





For the love you bear to me, Buy me a keek -ins glass, then. Keek in - to the draw - well, 




Jan - et, Jan - et, And there ye'll Bee your bon - nie sell, My jo Jan - et. 

Keekin' in the draw-well clear, 
What if I should fa' in, then ? 
Syne 1 a' my kin will say and swear, 

I drown'd mysel' for sin, then. 
Haud 2 the better by the brae, 3 

Janet, Janet, 
Haud the better by the brae, 
My jo Janet. 

Good Sir, for your courtesie, 

Coming thro' Aberdeen, then, 
For the love you bear to me, 

Buy me a pair o' shoon, then. 
Clout 4 the auld, the new are dear, 

Janet, Janet, 
A pair may gain 5 ye ha'f a year, 
My jo Janet. 

But what if dancing on the green, 

An' skippin' like a mawkin', 
If they should see my clouted sheen,' 

Of me they will be taukin'. 
Dance ay laigh, 7 an' late at e'en, 

Janet, Janet, 
Syne a' their fauts will no be seen, 
My jo Janet. 

Kind Sir, for your courtesie, 

When ye gae to the cross, then, 
For the love ye bear to me, 

Buy me a pacing horse, then. 
Pace upo' your spinning-wheel, 

Janet, Janet, 
Pace upo' your spinning-wheel, 
My jo Janet. 

" My Jo Janet." Mr. Stenhouse, in his Note upon this air in Johnson's Museum, says : — " The tune is very 
ancient : it is in Skene's MSS. under the title of ' The keiking glass.' " This is another astounding instance of Mr. 
Stenhouse's utter ignorance of the tablature in which the Skene MSS. are written. The air in these MSS. called 
" The keiking glasse," bears no resemblance whatever to "My jo Janet," or to any other Scottish tune. Had Mr. 
Stenhouse been able to decipher the Skene MSS., he might have found there some of the elements of " My jo Janet" 
under the title of, " Long er onie old man." In the Straloch MS. of 1627-29, we find another form of this, nearer to 
the modern air of " My jo Janet," under the name of " The old man." The verses here given are from Johnson's 
Museum. They appeared in the Orpheus Caledonius, and were afterwards retouched by Allan Ramsay. Johnson, 
however, from some scruple of delicacy, omitted the last stanza. In December 1793, Burns wrote his comic song, 
" My spouse Nancy," to the tune of" My jo Janet." 

We resume from p. 140. Miss Martineau asserts, that " the music of Nature is all in the minor key ; the melody 
of the winds, the sea, the waterfall, birds, and the echoes of bleating flocks among the hills." Now, let us take first 
the song of birds. In general it consists of intervals so shrill and minute as to be musically inappreciable to the 
human ear. It often resembles the chirping produced by turning rapidly the ground glass-stopper in the neck of a 
bottle. At other times it breaks out in bold and decided major intervals, as in the song of the blackbird, the thrush, 
and the linnet. The Editor of this work has, several times, written down the leading passages of the song of a black- 
bird singing among the trees near his window' — all decidedly in a major hey. The thrush, the same. Even the tiro 
notes sung by the cuckoo do not always form a minor third, but just as often a major one. As to " the melodies of 
the winds, the sea, the waterfall," we defy any musical ear to detect in the sounds so produced any appreciable 
musical intervals ; ergo, neither minor nor major. The wild and melancholy sound of the stormy wind rushing through 
a crevice, rises and falls by degrees inappreciable in practical music; somewhat as in the case of drawing the finger 
upwards and downwards upon the string of a violoncello, while the bow makes it vibrate. But all that has nothing 
to do with any minor or major key, musically understood. The same inappreciable transitions of pitch may be heard 
in the bellowing of a bull, the lowing of a cow, the neighing of a horse, and the cries of various beasts and birds. 
Even in the sawing of a piece of wood there is a production of sound varying in pitch; but no one would ever dream 
of referring it to a minor key or a major key. See p. 147 for a continuation of this subject. 





fcJhH 1 







'Twas on 

sim - mer's af - ter - noon, A wee be - fore the 


=f*=- ft , . ft 



down, My las - sie, wi' 

braw new gown, Cam' o'er the hills to 







•s= -^-r-*- ^ m=^ 




The rose - bud tinged wi' morn - ing show'r, Blooms fresh with - in the 


;ip=r-#-»-*-r — f-» — ,=k 


£ ^Ff £ 

-# — N— p — •= 





sun - ny bow'r, But ' Ka-tie was the fair - eat fiow'r That ev - er bloom'd in Gow - rie. 

I praised her beauty loud an' lang, 
Then round her waist my arms I flang, 
And said, My dearie, will ye gang 

To see the Carse o' Gowrie ? 
I'll tak' ye to my father's ha', 
In yon green field beside the shaw ; 
I'll mak' you lady o' them a', 

The bra west wife in Gowrie. 

Saft kisses on her lips I laid, 

The blush upon her cheeks soon spread, 

She whisper'd modestly, and said, 

I'll gang wi' ye to Gowrie ! 
The auld folks soon ga'e their consent, 
Syne for Mess John they quickly sent, 
Wha tyed them to their heart's content, 

And now she's Lady Gowrie. 

" The Lass o' Gowbie " The air is that more commonly called " Loch-Eroch Side," a favourite modern Strath- 
spey, taken from the air of an old Scottish song and dancing tune, named, " I'm o'er young to marry yet." Loch 
Erocht, or Ericht, is a large lake in the north-west of Perthshire. The words here given to this air are from page 10 
of a small pamphlet entitled, " One hundred and fifty Songs," printed by David Halliday, Dumfries, about 1839. 
Halliday's version consists of three stanzas only, while some later versions contain five. Two of the stanzas of these 
later versions seem to us not only superfluous but objectionable ; and therefore we have adopted Halliday's version, 
which contains also what we think a better reading of the first line of the second stanza. The song that evidently 
appears to have suggested the later one was published by Brash and Reid of Glasgow, without date, in one of their 
penny numbers of a Collection entitled "Poetry, Original and Selected." These numbers were afterwards published 
in four volumes 18mo, and in the third volume we find, " The gowd o' Gowrie ; a Scots song never before published : 
tune — Dainty Davie," and beginning : — 

" When Katie was scarce out nineteen, 
but she had twa coal-black een — 
A bonnier lass ye couldna seen 
Tn a' the Carse o' Gowrie." 

It is believed that these words were written by Mr. William Reid, (of that firm of Brash and Reid,) the author of 
several popular Scottish songs. These words were afterwards published in Mr. Robert Chambers's edition of " The 
Scottish Songs collected and illustrated," vol. ii. pp. 512, 513. The tune indicated by Mr. Chambers is " Loch-Eroch 
Side." Burns wrote the beautiful words to the same air, beginning, " stay, sweet warbling woodlark, stay." 



' = 104 











doun, doun, I'm doun for luck 







^-=y — *— 

doun, doun, I'm doun for lack 

=— *- 

John-nie ; 







Gin John-nie kent 

was na weel, I'm Bure he would come 





to me ; But, oh ! gin he's for - 

en me, Och hone ! what will come o' me ! 

I'm a' doun, doun, doun, 
I'm doun for lack o' Johnnie ; 

I'm a' doun, doun, doun, 
I'm doun for lack o' Johnnie. 

I sit upon an auld feal-sunk, 1 
I spin and greet for Johnnie ; 

But gin he's gi'en me the begunk, 5 
Och hone ! what will come o' me ! 

1 A seat made of turf. 

2 To deceive. 

" I'm a' doun for lack o' Joiinnie." The late Mr. Finlay Dun wrote to us as follows : — " With regard to the 
authorship of the words and air of the song, ' I'm a' doun for lack o' Johnnie,' I have been unable to procure any 
information. All that I can say about it is, that the song is known and sung in the North of Scotland." The air 
and words were communicated to Mr. Dun for Wood's " Songs of Scotland," and were never before published. 
We have no doubt that both are quite modern. Mr. Dun contributed his aid to the editing of a Collection of Gaelic 
Songs, published by Messrs. Wood and Co. of Edinburgh. It contains some excellent specimens of Scottish melody 
not hitherto published. Mr. Dun's observations in the preface are well worthy of attention. We have no doubt that 
many good Scottish melodies may still exist, from oral tradition, in various parts of Scotland that are seldom visited 
by musical collectors.* In searching for and collecting such relics of the olden time, the musical competency of the 
collector is of much more consequence than is generally supposed. He must not only be a good musician, but able to 
write down accurately, with due pauses, any air that he hears sung or played. Very few persons are able to do this 
— not one in a hundred, indeed, of amateur musicians. To do this, many persons not well skilled in music think that 
nothing more is required than to be able merely to sing, or to play upon some musical instrument. This is a great 
mistake ; a very extensive knowledge of music is required for such a task. The want of such knowledge has pro- 
duced the gross errors in many of our Collections of Scottish music. 

We continue our remarks from p. 145. The dismal hootings of an owl have nothing to do with a minor or a major 
key in music ; neither has the rising and falling yell of the whistle of a railway-engine, or the war-whoop of an American 
savage. The melancholy sough of the autumnal winds through the leafless branches of the forest trees, is only the voice 
of one of Nature's gigantic iEolian harps — incapable of being reduced to any system of musical sounds, and therefore 
belonging to neither minor nor major keys in music. Where there are no distinctly appreciable musical intervals 
produced in a certain fixed order, it proves mere ignorance of music to talk of vague indeterminate sounds as types 
of minor or major keys. We have dwelt upon this matter at some length, to hinder, if possible, dreamy persons from 
being greatly misled by the erroneous theory of an able writer, who always writes well, and to the purpose, upon any 
subject that she thoroughly understands. Doctor Burney, in his Preface to his History of Music, says : — " Indeed, I 
have long since found it necessary to read with caution the splendid assertions of writers concerning music, till I was 
convinced of their knowledge of the subject ; for I have frequently detected ancients as well as moderns, whose fame 
sets them almost above censure, of utter ignorance in this particular, while they have thought it necessary to talk 
about it." 

* The Editor of this work has set on foot inquiries regarding ancient Border airs in the wild districts of Liddesdale, &c. ; but bafl not yet 
gained so much information as he could desire, although hia correspondents were as obliging as zealous. 



• = 84 







Thy cheek is o' the ro - se's hue, My on - ly jo 




E&r &e^^ ^BeM 



-0- -•- 

dear - ie, O ; Thy neck is o' the sil - ler dew Up - on the banks sae brier - ie, 

^m^^^^ ^ES^±E$^ ^f^Ef 


Thy teeth are o' the i - vor - y ; O sweet's the twin - kle o' thine e'e ! Nae 


N s. 




joy, nao plea - sure, blinks on me, My on - ly jo and dear - ie, 


The birdie sings upon the thorn 
Its sang o' joy, fu' cheerie, 0, 
Rejoicing in the simmer morn, 

Nae care to mak' it eerie, 1 ; 
Ah ! little kens the sangster sweet, 
Aught o' the care I ha'e to meet, 
That gars my restless bosom beat, 
My only jo and dearie, 0. 

When we were bairnies on yon brae, 
And youth was blinkin' bonnie, 0, 

Aft we would daff 2 the lee-lang day, 
Our joys fu' sweet and monie, 0. 

Aft I wad chase thee o'er the lee, 

And round about the thorny tree ; 

Or pu' the wild flowers a' for thee, 
My only jo and dearie, 0. 

I ha'e a wish I canna tine, 3 

'Mang a' the cares that grieve me, 0, 
A wish that thou wert ever mine, 

And never mair to leave me, ; 
Then I would dawt 4 thee night and day, 
Nae ither warldly care I'd ha'e, 
Till life's warm stream forgat to play, 

My only jo and dearie, O. 

2 Hpovt. 

3 To lose. 

* Caresa. 

" My only Jo and Deabie, 0." " This beautiful song, which is another of the productions of the late Mr. Richard 
Gall, was written at the earnest request of Mr. Thomas Oliver, printer and publisher, Edinburgh, an intimate 
acquaintance of the author's. Mr. Oliver heard it sung in the Pantomime of Harlequin Highlander, at the Circus, 
and was so struck with the melody, that it dwelt upon his mind ; but the only part of the words he recollected 
were — 

' My love's the sweetest creature 
That ever trod the dewy green ; 
Her cheeks they are like roses, 
Wi' the op'ning gowan wet between.' 

And having no way of procuring the verses he had heard, he requested Mr. Gall to write words to his favourite tune. 
Our young bard promised to do so ; and in a few days presented him with this elegant song, in which the title of the 
tune is happily introduced at the close of every stanza." See Museum Illustrations, vol. vi. pp. 406, 407. In the 
Not* upon " 1 ha'e laid a herrin' in saut," p. 139, we have given a brief account of Richard Gall. 



: 92 





#- . -#- »- • -0- -0- • -#- 

Ris - ing o'er the heav-ing bil-low, Ev'n-ing gilds the o-cean's swell, While with thee, on 



grass - y pil - low, So - li-tude! I love to dwell. Lone - ly, to the sea breeze blow -ing, 


Oft I chant my love - lorn strain ; To the stream -let sweet - ly flow - ing, Mur - mur oft a 


E 0~ M 4 -J— . 

a — m- 





lo - ver's pain. 'Twas for her, the Maid of Isl 


Time flew o'er me wing'd with joy ; 

#. — ,_-_g_ — fr- , E =l^ — ,-, — 0--\ — fr-=— » — ^ a ^=1^=^.==h 

'Twas for her, the cheer - ing smile aye Beam'd with rap - ture in 



Not the tempest raving round me, 
Lightning's flash, or thunder's roll, 

Not the ocean's rage could wound me, 
While her image fill'd my soul. 

Farewell, days of purest pleasure, 

Loud your loss my heart shall mourn ; 

Farewell, hours of bliss the measure, 
Bliss that never can return. 

Cheerless o'er the wild heath wand'ring, 
Cheerless o'er the wave-worn shore, 

On the past with sadness pond'ring, 
Me Hope's visions charm no more. 

" Tjie Maid of Tslay." The air appears in Gow's Fourth Collection, p. 20, under the name of " The Maid of Isla, 
a Strathspey," with the folhJwing Note : — " I am indebted to Colonel and Lady Charlotte Campbell for this beautiful 
air." In a small Collection of Songs by the late Sir Alexander Boswell, printed for Messrs. Manners and Miller, 
Edinburgh, 1803, Sir Alexander gives verses to " The Maid of Isla," and says : — " The air is a reel of the Island of Isla, 
brought over by Lady Charlotte Campbell. Like many others, when played slow it is very plaintive." The words 
which we give with the air are, in several publications, said to have been composed by Joseph Train, a native of the 
village of Sorn, in Ayrshire, and born in 1779. At pages 320, 327 of Blackie's " Book of Scottish Song," Glasgow, 
Edinburgh, London, 1843, the words of the song "Rising on the heaving billow," are decidedly ascribed to Joseph 
Train. But, after the publication of Vol. II. of Wood's " Songs of Scotland," the editor of that work received from the 
Rev. William Dunbar the following letter, in which he claims the authorship of the song in question : — 

" AprLEGAKTH Manse, by Lockekbie, December 27, 1849. 
" Sib, — My attention has been directed to Mr. Wood's edition of the ' Songs of Scotland,' edited by Mr. George 
Farquhar Graham, in which I am told— for I have not seen the work — that the song of ' The Maid of Isla' is in- 
serted, and attributed to a Mr. Train as the author. The song was written by me nearly half a century ago, and I 
hope that, in the event of a new edition of the book being called for, the error will be rectified. If evidence of the 
truth of my claim were necessary, I could easily furnish it, and I doubt not that Mr. Train, if applied to, would 
readily disclaim the authorship. The thing itself is a trifle, and my sole reason for wishing the error corrected, is to 
vindicate myself in the eyes of those friends to whom I have given copies of the song, from the suspicion of having put 
forth a false claim of authorship. Excuse this trouble, and believe me, Sir, your obedient servant, 

" Wll. DUNBAK. 

" Geo. F. Graham, Esq." 

The last line of the song i* altered by the reverend author. 




J B -=76 








O, for ane - and - twen - ty, Tarn ! And hey, for ane - and - 










twen - ty, Tarn ! I'll learn my kin a ratt - lin' sang, Gin I saw ane - and - twen - ty, Tarn. 







They snool' rae sair, and hand me down, And gar me look like blun-tie, 3 Tam; But 

~ W~ f f-g 



« — •- 






three short years will soon wheel roun', And 

A gleib o' Ian', a claut o' gear, 3 
Were left me by my auntie, Tam ; 

At kith and kin I needna speir, 
Gin I saw ane-and-twenty, Tam. 

then comes ane - and - twen - ty, Tam. 

They'll ha'e me wed a wealthy coof, 4 
Though I mysel' ha'e plenty, Tam ; 

But hear'st thou, laddie ? — there's my loof 5 - 
I'm thine at ane-and-twenty, Tam ! 

' To subjugate by tyrannical means. 

2 Stupid. 

8 A sum of money. 

6 Hand. 

" And 0, for ane-and-twenty, Tam !" Mr. Stenhouse gives the following Note upon this song and air : — " This 
comic song, the manuscript of which is before me, was written by Burns on purpose for the Museum. The subject of 
the song had a real origin. A young girl having been left some property by a near relation, and at her own disposal 
on her attaining majority, was pressed by her relations to marry an old rich booby. Her affections, however, had 
previously been engaged by a young man, to whom she had pledged her troth when she should become of age, and 
she of course obstinately rejected the solicitations of her friends to any other match. Burns represents the lady 
addressing her youthful lover in the language of constancy and affection. The verses are adapted to an old tune, called, 
The Moudiewart. In the ' Reliques,' Burns says, ' this song is mine.'" See Museum Illustrations, vol. iv. p. 327. 

In the course of this work we have occasionally noticed the remarkable popularity of Burns' songs, and their 
influence upon his countrymen. One of the most striking instances on record is that given in the Note, p. 68, 
where we quote from James Grant, Esq., an incident during the battle of Waterloo. The following humble 
individual instance of Burns' influence is interesting, and was communicated to us by a respected literary friend, 
who, when a boy, for amusement, took part in the harvest operations which he mentions. Our friend says : — " It 
may not be uninteresting to you to know how strongly, if not extensively, the prose and poetical writings of Burns 
had taken possession of the minds of his countrymen ; and many more instances than the one I give might be adduced 
as illustrative of this. The educated were not more enthusiastic concerning the Bard than were the peasantry, as the 
following short narrative will abundantly prove. It might be about the year 1811, that the harvest came suddenly 
upon us, and being resident with an uncle whose farm was situated in a landward district, many miles remote from 
any town, all hands were called on to assist. The ploughman was to be builder of the ricks, and your humble ser- 
vant was to fork to him. He was an uncouth-Iookiug man, with a very slender education, but possessed of great 
natural powers, and an extraordinary relish for wit and humour ; so you may easily conceive how pleasantly the 
time flew by us. Bob (Robert Stevenson by name) delighted me with his scraps from Burns. We had plenty of 
leisure, and were not overwrought, luckily for my young arms ; and I shall never forget how aptly he introduced his 
quotations, both grave and gay, (for Bob appreciated both,) and with what a gusto the more notable and pithy parts 
of the Bard were uttered by my pleasant fellow-labourer. This took place in Dumfriesshire, about thirty miles from 
the town of Dumfries, and you will see by the date, not many years after the lamented death of the Bard. I have 
said prose as well as poetry; the latter is nothing wonderful, but the former was, and remains with me a matter of 
greater astonishment, since Currie's edition was the only one at that time extant, and which could have been but 
seldom within Stevenson's reach to peruse with anything like leisure." 










~* * ' 



Be - hold, my love, how green the groves, The 





prim - rose banks, how 

fair ; 

The balm 






pal - ace 


sings ; 







Na - ture smiles as sweet, I ween, To shep - herds 


Let skilful minstrels sweep the string 

In lordly lighted ha', 
The shepherd stops his simple reed 

Blythe in the birken shaw. 1 
The princely revel may survey 

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

Beneath the milk-white thorn ? 

The shepherd in the flow'ry glen, 

In namely phrase will woo ; 
The courtier tells a finer tale — 

But is his heart as true? 
These wild-wood flowers I've pu'd to deck 

That spotleBS breast 0' thine ; 
The courtier's gems may witness love — 

But 'tis na love like mine. 

1 A piece of flat ground at the bottom of a hill covered with short scraggy birches. 

" Behold, mt Love, how green the Groves." " Burns says : — ' I have been informed that the tune of Doun the 
burn, Davie, was the composition of David Maigh, keeper of the blood slough-hounds belonging to the Laird of 
Riddel, in Tweeddale.' — Heliques. But he was probably misinformed ; for the tune occurs, note for note, in the 
Orpheus Caledonius, printed in 1725." See Museum Illustrations, vol. i. p. 78. Instead of Crawfurd's very objeotion- 
able words, given in the Museum to the air of Doun the burn, Davie, we give those written by Burns for the same air. 
It seems as if Burns had had in view the following song, though in a different measure, written by James Thomson, 
author of " The Seasons." 

The Happy Shepherd. 

If those who live in shepherds' bow'rs 
Press not the rich and stately bed, 

The new mown hay and breathing flow'rs 
A softer couch beneath them spread. 

If those who sit at shepherd's board 
Soothe not their taste by wanton art, . 

They take what Nature's gifts afford, 
And take it with a cheerful heart. 

If those who drain the shepherd's bowl 
No high and sparkling wines can boast, 

With wholesome cups they cheer the soul, 
And crown them with the village toast. 

If those who join in shepherds' sport. 

Gay dancing on the daisied ground, 
Have not the splendour of a court, 

Yet love adorns the merry round. 







*-- * - * 

■ 4 • 4 • * 


I'm o'er young, I'm o'er youne, T'm o'er young to mar-ry yet, I'm 








o'er young, 'twarl be a sin To tak' nie frae my Mammie yet. 



I am my Mammie's 



ae bairn. Nor of my hame am wea-ry yet ; And I would have ye learn, lads, That 
poco rait. / ^a tempo. 










ye for me must tar - ry yet. For I'm o'er young. I'm o'er young, I'm o'er young to 



mar-ry yet, I'm o'er young, 'twad be 

pin To tak' me frae my Mammie yet. 

I'm o'er young, I'm o'er young, 

I'm o'er young to marry yet, 
I'm o'er young, 'twad be a sin 

To tak' me frae my Mammie yet ; 
For I've aye had my aiu will, 

Nane dared to contradict me yet, 
And now to say I wad obey, 

In truth I darna venture yet. 
For I'm o'er young, &c. 

" I'm o'er young to marry yet." The chorus of this song is old. The words and air here given are from Messrs. 
Wood and Co.'s " Vocal Gems of Scotland." They were rendered very popular in Edinburgh about the year 
1836, by the arch manner in which they were sung by Miss Coveney, a youthful vocalist of considerable promise, 
whose career was soon after cut short by death. In Johnson's Museum we find a set of words with the same title, 
but in many respects unsuited to this work. Burns did not succeed well in his attempt to mitigate and improve the 
rude old words. The air here given to the words is a more modern and popular tune. In R. Bremner's " Collection 
of Scots Reels or Country Dances," oblong 8vo, published in London about the middle of last century, we find the old 
tune, " I'm o'er young to marry yet," from which is evidently derived the excellent strathspey called, " Loch-Eroch 
Side," which will be found, p. 146, united to the song, " The Lass o' Gowrie." 

The following is the old tune as given by Bremner : — 

p £jFF¥&TfFP&3^ ^^£&m&5 


gJgSiiS^PB^ ^^T^ Bl ^^gS P^I 



: 63 





ii^^g^E£g| 3=^Fg p^^ 

I dreamM I lay where flow'rs" were spring - ing, Gat - ly in the sun - ny 





j . * 


beam ; List - 'ning to the wild birds sing - ing, By a fall - ing crys - tal 






stream : Straight the fky grew black and dar - ing ; Through the woods the whirlwinds 







rave; Trees with a - ged aims were war - ring O'er the swell - ing, drum -lie' wave. 

Such was my life's deceitful morning. 

Such the pleasures I enjoyed : 
But lang or' 2 noon, loud tempests storming, 

A' my flow'ry bliss destroy'd. 
Though fickle fortune has deceived me. 

She promised fair, and performed but ill ; 
Of mony a joy and hope bereaved me — 

I bear a heart shall support me still. 

> Troubled. 

2 Before : ere. 

" The Dbeam." " These two stanzas," says Burns, " I composed when I was seventeen : they are among the oldest 
of my printed pieces." — Eeliques. Gilbert Burns says, that Robert's literary zeal slackened considerably after their 
removal to Tarbolton. " The seven years we lived in Tarbolton parish, (extending from the seventeenth to the 
twenty-fourth of my brother's age,) were not marked by much literary improvement," &c. Mr. Lockhart, writing 
of that period of Burns's life, says : — " Thus occupied with labour, love, and dancing, the youth ' without an aim,' 
found leisure occasionally to clothe the sufficiently various moods of his mind in rhymes. It was as early as sevenr 
teen, he tells us, that he wrote some stanzas which begin beautifully, ' I dream 'd I lay where fiow'rs were springing,' 
&o. On comparing these verses with those on ' Handsome Nell,' the advance achieved by the young bard in the 
course of two short years, must be regarded with admiration ; nor should a minor circumstance be entirely over- 
looked, that in the piece which we have just been quoting, there occurs but one Scotch word. It was about this time, 
also, that he wrote a ballad of much less ambitious vein, which, years after, he says, he used to con over with delight, 
because of the faithfulness with which it recalled to him the circumstances and feelings of his opening manhood. ' My 
father was a fanner upon the Carrick border,' " &c. See Lockhart's Life of Burns. It does not appear whence the 
air was obtained for Johnson. The cast of the air is not Scottish, and the Editor is of opinion that the barring ought 
to begin after the three first quavers, D, F, G, and not after the first D, as in former collections. With the exception 
of the barring, and of a slight alteration of notes in the twelfth measure, for the sake of simplicity, the air is pre- 
sented as it stands in Johnson's Museum. With regard to the adaptation of the words to the air, several false accents 
occur; such as, " Gaily in" " List'ning to," &c , where the words in and to fall upon long notes. Such errors are 
rare in Burns's later songs, when he had acquired more knowledge of the art of composing verses to music. His 
skill in this rare art quite puzzled the poet Moore, who erroneously supposed Burns to be entirely ignorant of music, 
as we have elsewhere mentioned. 








- {J . _Jy 


?EE ^£ 

How lang and drear - y is the nicht, When I am frae my dear - ie ; I 


^^^^ P^g^ 



reBt-less lie frae e'en till morn, Tho' I were ne'er so wea - ry. For, oh ! her lane-ly nichts are lang ; And, 


p—* 1 



: *=t*= 



oh ! her dreams are ee - rie ; And, oh ! her wi-dow'd heart is sair, That's ab - sent frae her dear - ie ! 

When I think on the lightsome days 

I spent wi' thee, my dearie ; 
And now, what seas between us roar — 
How can I be but eerie. 

For, oh ! her lanely nights are lang ; 

And, oh ! her dreams are eerie ; 
And, oh ! her widow'd heart is sair, 
That's absent frae her dearie ! 

How slow ye move, ye heavy hours — 

The joyless day, how dreary! 
It was na sae ye glinted by 
When I was wi' my dearie. 
For, oh ! her lanely nights are lang ; 

And, oh ! her dreams are eerie ; 
And, oh ! her widow'd heart is sair 
That's absent frae her dearie ! 

" Cauld Kail in Aberdeen." " This beautiful air does not appear in any of our old Collections by Thomson, 
Craig, M'Gibbon, or Oswald. It seems to have been modelled from the ancient tune in triple time, called, The sleepy 
body, like that of another from the same source, called, The Ploughman. See No. 165. For upwards of half a cen- 
tury, however, few if any of our tunes have been greater favourites with the poets than that of ' Cauld kail in Aber- 
deen.' Although this air, particularly when played slow, is rather of a tender and plaintive cast, yet most of the 
songs that have been adapted to it are of a very opposite description." See Museum Illustrations, vol. ii. p. 150. 
The song beginning, " How lang and dreary is the night," of three stanzas of six lines each, was written by Burns to 
a Highland air. Long afterwards, in October 1794, he altered that song to suit the air of " Cauld kail in Aberdeen," 
for Mr. George Thomson's work. This is the version here given. Most of the humorous songs written for this air 
are objectionably coarse, not excepting the one written by Burns's noble friend, the Duke of Gordon. We give the 
following merry lines written for the air by the late Mr. William Reid, Bookseller, Glasgow, not only because they 
are unobjectionable, but because they are good of their kind. He was a personal friend and great admirer of Burns, 
and published several pieces of poetry of considerable merit. David Laing, Esq., in his Additional Illustrations of 
Johnson's Museum, vol. ii. pages *212, 213, says: — "Having been favoured by Mr. James Brash of Glasgow, 
(through the kind application of Mr. P. A. Ramsay,) with some particulars of Mr. Reid's history, I take this oppor- 
tunity of inserting them, as a tribute of respect to his memory. He was remarkable for a fund of social humour, and 
was possessed of no inconsiderable poetical powers, with some of the eccentricities occasionally allied to genius. Mr. 
Reid was born at Glasgow on the 10th of April 1764. His parents were Robert Reid, baker in Glasgow, and 
Christian Wood, daughter of a farmer at Gartmore, in Perthshire. Having received a good education in his native 
city, he was originally employed in the type-foundery of Mr. Andrew Wilson, and afterwards served an apprentice- 
ship with Messrs. Dunlop & Wilson, booksellers in Glasgow. He remained in their employment till the year 1790, 
when he commenced business as a bookseller, in partnership with the late Mr. James Brash ; and, for a period of 
twenty-seven years, they carried on a most respectable business, under the well-known firm of ' Brash & Reid.' In a 
small publication which they issued in numbers, at one penny each, under the title of ' Poetry, Original and Selected,' 
between the years 1795 and 1798, and which forms four volumes, there are several contributions of Mr. Reid. Most 
of his compositions were of an ephemeral kind, and it is to be regretted that no selection of them has ever appeared. 
He died at Glasgow, 29th of November 1831." 

There's cauld kail in Aberdeen, Thus merrily my time I pass, 

And bannocks in Strathbogie — With spirits brisk and vogie, 

But naething drives awa' the spleen Blest wi' my buiks and my sweet lass, 

Sae weel's a social cogie. My cronies and my cogie. 

That mortal's life nae pleasure shares, Then haste and gi'e's an auld Scots sang, 

Wha broods o'er a' that's fogie ; Siclike as Kath'rine Ogie ; 

Whane'er I'm fasht wi' warldly cares, A guid auld sang comes never wrang 

I drown them in a cogie. When o'er a social cogie. 




• = so 



E A=- 




J— F =|: 



I ne - gleet - ed, I 

broke my sheep 




:p— # 




hook, And all the gay haunts of my youth I for - sook ; No 









more for A - min - ta fresh gar lands I wove ; For am - bi - tion, I 









said, would soon cure me of love. 

Oh, what had my youth with am ■ 






bi - tion to 

do? Why left I 

min - ta ? Why 

W~ P i—m-0-* 






broke I my vow 1 Oh, give me my sheep, and my sheep - hook 








I'll wan - der from love and A 

ta no more. 

Through regions remote in vain do I rove, 
And bid the wide ocean secure me from love ; 
Ah, fool ! to imagine that aught can subdue 
A love so well founded, a passion so true. 

Oh, what had my youth with ambition to do ? 

Why left I Aminta? Why broke I my vow ? 

Oh, give me my sheep, and my sheep-hook restore, 

I'll wander from love and Aminta no more ! 

Alas ! 'tis too late at thy fate to repine ; 
Poor shepherd, Aminta no more can be thine! 
Thy tears are all fruitless, thy wishes are vain, 
The moments neglected return not again ! 

Oh, what had my youth with ambition to do ? 

Why left I Aminta? Why broke I my vow? 

Oh, give me my sheep, and my sheep-hook restore, 

I'll wander from love and Aminta no more ! 

" My Apron Dearie." The words here given to this air were written for it by Sir Gilbert Elliot, third Baronet of 
Minto, and brother of Miss Jane Elliot, the authoress of " The Flowers of the Forest." (See p. 1 of this work.) Sir 
Gilbert Elliot's song, " My sheep I neglected," &c, appears to have been first printed in " The Charmer : a choice 
Collection of Songs, Scots and English. Edinburgh, printed for J. Yair, bookseller in the Parliament Close," 1749 
and 1751, 2 vols. 12mo. The air is found in the Orpheus Caledonius, 1725. In Watts' Musical Miscellany, London, 
1730, vol. iii, we find a version of the original air much more simple than that given in Johnson's Museum, or in any 
subsequent Collection. It consists of sixteen measures only, and we have rather adopted it, for the most part, than 
the more florid versions given in later editions. The version published by Craig at Edinburgh in 1730, contains a 
second part, added by himself, which is given in Johnson's Museum. 



: 108 




f 5 =^=^-i=pz 5 ==: 

weel may the boat - ie 


3$ : 



And bet-ter may she 
'•$'• Churns. 

speed ; And 

1*-^— fc 

» — *=0- 


^Zg l ^ g 



weel may the boat - ie row, That wins the bairns bread. The boat - ie rows, the 







boat - ie rows, The boat - ie rows in - deed; And hap-py be the lot of a' That 


wish the boat - ie speed. 

I cuist my line in Lar - go bay, And fish-es 





I caugh t 

There's three to boil, and three to fry, And three to bait tlio 


weel may the boatie row 

That fills a heavy creel, 
And deeds us a' frae head to feet, 

And buys our parritch meal. 
The boatie rows, the boatie rows, 

The boatie rows indeed : 
And happy be the lot of a' 

That wish the boatie speed. 

When Jamie vow'd he would be mine, 
And wan frae me my heart, 

muckle lighter grew my creel ! 
He swore we'd never part. 

The boatie rows, the boatie rows, 

The boatie rows fu' weel ; 
And muckle lighter is the lade 

When love bears up the creel. 

My kurtch ' I put upon my head, 
And dress'd mysel' fu' braw ; 

1 trow my heart was dowf 3 and wae, 

When Jamie gaed awa :' 

1 A linen cap, tying under the chin. 

But weel may the boatie row, 

And lucky be her part ; 
And lightsome be the lassie's care 

That yields an honest heart ! 

When Sawnie, Jock, and Janetie, 

Are up and gotten lear, 8 
They'll help to gar the boatie row, 

And lighten a' our care. 
The boatie rows, the boatie rows, 

The boatie rows fu' weel ; 
And lightsome be her heart that bears 

The murlain and the creel ! 

And when wi' age we are worn down, 

And hirpling round the door, 
They'll row to keep us dry and warm 

As we did them before : 
Then, weel may the boatie row, 

That wins the bairns' bread ; 
And happy be the lot of a' 

That wish the boatie speed ! 

2 Melancholy. 

" The Boatie Rows." " Burns informs us, that ' the author of this song, beginning, ' weel may the boatie row,' 
was a Mr. Ewen of Aberdeen. It is a charming display of womanly affection mingling with the concerns and occu- 
pations of life. It is nearly equal to There's nae luck about the house.' — Reliques. This fine ballad is set to three 
different tunes in the Museum. The first four bars of the air, No. 425, are taken from the tune called, ' Weel may the 
keel row,' and all the rest from the tune of ' There's nae luck about the house.' The words, however, are seldom sung 
to this mongrel melody." See Museum Illustrations, vol. v. p. 380. Nearly three pages of the Additional Illustra- 
tions in the same volume, pp. 441-443, are occupied by a very curious notice regarding John Ewen, Esq., the reputed 
author of the song, who died at Aberdeen, in the eightieth year of his age, on 21st October 1821. Of the air given in 
this work, Mr. Stenhouse says : — " This fine modern air is the genuine tune of the ballad. Some years ago it was 
arranged as a glee for three voices, by Mr. William Knyvett of London, and has deservedly become very popular." — 
Ibid., p. 380. 






Alii, " DONALD." 

love thee still, al - though my path In life can ne'er be 




— I — 

I ' . M . * 



thine ; 

And, though, thy heart, in ear - ly youth, Was fund - ly pledged to 

mine, Don-aid ! The love ot" wealth, the 

pride of rank, Have 

' f P » L~f 

. — , . Na L 


these, when we were 

first be - trothed, I scorn'd, as I 

now, Don - aid ! 

We once were equal in our love, 
But times are changed for thee ; 

Now rich and great, while I am poor, 
Thou art no mate for me — Donald ! 

I would not take thy offer'd hand, 

Although it bore a crown ; 
Thy parents taunt me with thy wealth — 

My poortith-pride's my own — Donald ! 

" I Love thee still." Mr. George Thomson introduced the air called " Donald," as Scottish or Irish, into his 
Collection, with words written by Burns for the tune of " Gilderoy." The air appears again, with a different close, 
in R. A. Smith's Scottish Minstrel, vol. iv. pp. 46, 47, with Burns's words slightly altered, and also with other words. 
The additional words given by R. A. Smith in his Scottish Minstrel to the air " Donald," are nothing but a new 
version, with verbal alterations, of the third and fourth stanzas of the song published in the Orpheus Caledonius, and 
in William Napier's Second Collection, 1792, to the air, " Haud awa' frae me, Donald." In modern versions, such as 
those in William Napier's Collection, and in R. A. Smith's Scottish Minstrel, the words to " Haud awa' frae me, 
Donald," have been Anglified and altered ; probably at the time when Scottish songs were much in fashion in England. 
Hence might originate the idea that the air was Scottish. We are of opinion that the air " Donald" is not of Scottish 
growth, nor of Irish ; but is the production of some English musician of the days of Shield and Arnold, and composed 
for some of the London concerts, about the close of the last century or the beginning of the present. However, with 
this caveat, we give it as it appears in several Scottish Collections. It has a flavour of Barthelemon's once popular 
air, " Durandarte and Belerma." The words given in this work are written by a friend of the Publishers. 

The following are the two altered stanzas as given by R. A. Smith to the air, " Donald," in the Scottish Minstrel, 
vol. iv. p. 46 : — 

When first you courted me, I own, 

I fondly favour'd you ; 
Apparent worth and high renown 

Made me believe you true, Donald. 
Each virtue then seem'd to adorn 

The man esteem'd by me — 
But now the mask's thrown off, I scorn 

To waste one thought on thee, Donald. 

0, then, for ever haste away, 

Away from love and me ; 
Go seek a heart that's like your own, 

And come no more to me, Donald. 
For I'll reserve myself alone, 

For one that's more like me ; 
If such a one I cannot find, 

I'll fly from love and thee, Donald. 




' = 96 

Allt, " cluxie's reel." 



-«-=—» — 0- 





din - na think, bon - nie las - sie, I'm gaun to leave you ; 

IP — 9~ 





Din-na think, bon - nie las-sie, 


-£— *- 

I*ra gaun to leave you ; Din-na think, bon - nie las - sie, 


s \ 



I'm gaun to leave you ; I'll tak' a stick in - to my hand, and come a - gain an' see you. 




* — #- 


Far's the gate ye ha'e to gang, dark's the night an' ee - rie ; Par's the gate ye ha'e to gang, 

Sg l^ 



dark's the night an' ee - rie; O'er the rnuir an' through the glen, ghaists may-hap will 






-*—- 1 

-r 5 — # 

fear ye : O stay at hame, it's late at night, an' din - na gang an' leave me. 

It's but a night an' half a day that I'll leave my dearie; 
But a night an' half a day that I'll leave my dearie ; 
But a night an' half a day that I'll leave my dearie ; 
When the sun gaes west the loch I'll come again an' see you. 

Waves are rising o'er the sea, winds blaw loud and fear me ; 
Waves are rising o'er the sea, winds blaw loud and fear me ; 
While the waves an' winds do roar, I am wae and dreary ; 
An' gin ye lo'e me as ye say, ye winna gang and leave me. 

dinna think, bonnie lassie, I'm gaun to leave you ; 
Dinna think, bonnie lassie, I'm gaun to leave you ; 
Dinna think, bonnie lassie, I'm gaun to leave you ; 
For let the warld gae as it will, I'll come again an' see you. 

" dinna think, Bonnie Lassie." Mr. Stenhouse gives the following note on this song: — " Hector Macneill, Esq., 
informed the editor that he wrote the whole of this song except the last verse, which the late Mr. John Hamilton, 
music-seller in Edinburgh, took the liberty to add to it, and to publish as a sheet song. ' It was on this account,' 
Mr. Macneill added, ' that I did not include this song in collecting my poetical works for the uniform edition in two 
volumes, which has been given to the public' For a similar reason he omitted another song, likewise written by him, 
beginning, My love's in Germany, send him hame, send him hame. The song of Dinna think, bonnie lassie, is adapted 
to a dancing tune, called Olunie's Reel, taken from dimming of Granton's Reels and Strathspeys." See Museum 
Illustrations, vol. vi. p. 485. We have omitted the eight lines added by John Hamilton, and also some lines of useless 
repetition, such as, " Dinna gang, my bonnie lad," &c. We must observe that the two lines in the first stanza, — 
" O'er the muir, and through the glen, ghaists mayhap will fear ye, 
stay at hame, it's late at night, and dinna gang and leave me," 
form a different reading in another publication ; while in Johnson these two lines are : 
" Far's the gate ye ha'e to gang, dark's the night and eerie, 
U stay this ae night wi' your love, an' dinna gang an' leave me." 




= 66 










Nae gen - tie dames, though e'er sae fair, Shall ev - er be my 







— £ 

i* — =■«=- 

las - sie, O. With - in the glen sae bush - y, O, A - boon the plain 

pjgPpg^E ^E^^EJ 


set me down wi' right good will, To sing my High - land las - sie, O. 

rush - y, O, 1 

Oh ! were yon hills and valleys mine, 
Yon palace and yon gardens fine ! 
The world then the love should know 
I bear my Highland lassie, 0. 
Within the glen, &o. 

But fickle fortune frowns on me, 
And I maun cross the raging sea : 
But while my crimson currents flow, 
I'll love my Highland lassie, 0. 
Within the glen, &c. 

Although through foreign climes I range, 
I know her heart will never change, 
For her bosom burns with honour's glow, 
My faithful Highland lassie, 0. 
Within the glen, &c. 

For her I'll dare the billows' roar, 
For her I'll trace a distant shore, 
That Indian wealth may lustre throw 
Around my Highland lassie, 0. 
Within the glen, &c. 

She has my heart, she has my hand, 
By sacred truth and honour's band ! 
Till the mortal stroke shall lay me low, 
I'm thine, my Highland lassie, 0. 

Farewell, the glen sae bushy, ! 

Farewell, the plain sae rushy, ! 

To other lands I now must go 

To sing my Highland lassie, ! 

" The Deuks eanq o'er my Daddie." Mr. Stenhouse's Note upon this air and song is as follows : — " This humorous 
ditty, beginning, ' The bairns gat out wi' an unco shout,' was written by Burns for the Museum. The bard, however, 
has introduced two or three lines from the old words, which it would have been better to have left out. This tune 
was probably introduced into England about the union of crowns in 1603 ; for it was well known in the early days of 
old John Playford, who published it, along with many other Scots tunes, in his Dancing Master, in 1657, under the 
title of the 'Buff Coat.' The import of the old Scottish name of the tune could not be generally, if at all, understood 
in England. Dr. Pepusch adapted Gay's song to this air, beginning, ' Why that languish ? 0, he's dead ! 0, he's lost 
for ever ! ' introduced in the musical opera of Polly, or the second part of The Beggar's Opera, in 1729." See Museum 
Illustrations, vol. iv. pp. 358, 359. In the Additional Illustrations to the same volume, p. 392*, Charles Kirkpatrick 
Sharpe, Esq., gives eight lines of " old words, from a 4to MS. Collection in my possession. — C. K. S." We have not 
room here for these words. The verses we publish are those by Burns, given by K. A. Smith to the air in his Scottish 
Minstrel. We cannot adopt the words that Burns wrote for the air. 









* #-T— * d 



My Peg - gy is a young thing, Just en - ter'd in her teens, Fair 











as the day, and sweet as May, Fair as the day, and al- ways gay : My Feg-gy is a young thing, And 







• • :-:■_ 

P-¥— b 


I'm nae ve - ry auld, Yet weel I like to meet her at The wauk-ing o' the fauld. 



!5 — #- 


My Peg - gy speaks sae sweet - ly When - e'er we meet 


jt^^ ^ pjUjO^^frff 

wish nae mair to lay my care, I wish nae mair of a' that's rare: My Peggy speaks sae sweetly, To 



y s " 








a' the lave I'm cauld ; But she gars a' my spi - rits glow, At wauk-ing o' the fauld. 

My Peggy smiles sae kindly 
Whene'er I whisper love, 
That I look down on a' the town, 
That I look down upon a crown : 
My Peggy smiles sae kindly, 

It makes me blythe and bauld, 
And naething gi'es me sic delight 
As wauking o' the fauld. 

My Peggy sings sae saftly 

When on my pipe I play ; 
By a' the rest it is confest, 
By a' the rest that she sings best : 
My Peggy sings sae saftly, 

And in her sangs are tauld, 
Wi' innocence, the wale o' sense, 
At wauking o' the fauld. 

"Mi Peggy is a young thino." This song was written by Allan Ramsay, and published with the music in the 
Orpheus Caledonius, in 1725. It is one of the songs introduced by Ramsay into his Gentle Shepherd as an after- 
thought, from an idea that the success of Gay's " Beggar's Opera," arose from the songs and popular airs in it. 
There is an old song, beginning, — 

" will ye speak at our town 

As ye come frae the fauld," &c, 

which probably suggested to Ramsay the burden of " The wauking o' the fauld ;" but which, however humorous, is 
much too coarse for modern currency. The tune, " The wauking o' the fauld," bears marks of antiquity in its whole 
structure, and especially in the incomplete cadence upon the key-note, by the minor seventh of the scale, instead of 
the major; a peculiarity confined to the tonalities of ancient melodies. The " note-sensible," as the French writers 
named it, is one of the marked distir.ctiors of modern airs and tonalities. 



: 72 











wind - ing Btream, flowing on 







Fare - well, peace-fui groves, and niv sweet wood - bine bow'r ; Fare - 



















bove the proud tur - rets of Al - lo 

Tower ! Here, here wa 

g^l ^pgg^g 




-•— f-»-^ 

pose for my poor wea, - ry 

heart, When foes ga - ther'd round, and 








friends prov'd un - true ; Fare - well ! Ma 

m L= 

- ry 



^P-^Pp ; 

gain must do 



To sigh for the 


she has found but 

vou ! 

I mark, as I stand looking mournfully round, 

Yon cloud drifted on by the rude northern wind, 
Low dragging its folds o'er the darkening ground, 

And leaving its path in sad shadow behind : 
Ah ! frail droopiDg cloud to these groves dost thou flee 

To nestle and rest — in vain, ah, in vain ! 
Thou art torn, clinging fondly to turret and tree, 

Away o'er the valley, dissolving in rain. 

E'en so am I borne on my darkening way. 

On helplessly hurried by Faction's rude blast, 
While shines in the future no welcoming ray, 

And glimmers, consoling, no light in the past : 
Here, here was repose for my poor weary heart, 

Release from its wrongs — relief from its fears ; 
Farewell ! — Mary Stuart again must depart, 

But clinging in fondness and melting in tears. 

" Queen Mart's Farewell to Alloa." In the first volume of the " Encyclopaedia Britannica," (1788,) we find the 
following information : — " Alloa, or Alloway, is a sea-port town in Scotland, situate on the river Forth, five miles 
east of Stirling. It is remarkable for its fine castle, the seat of the Earl of Mar. The tower and lands of Alloa were 
exchanged by David II. King of Scotland, in the year 1365, with Thomas Lord Erskine, for the lands and estate of 
Strathgartney in Perthshire ; and since that time the castle of Alloa has been the favourite residence of the family of 
Mar. The situation is uncommonly beautiful. The gardens here were the first that were laid out on a great scale 
in Scotland. They contain about forty acres. In this residence many of the Scottish princes received their education ; 
and in it are preserved the cradle, golf-clubs, &c, of Henry Prince of Wales ; the private signet of Mary Queen of Scots, 
and the child's-ehair of James VI., her son." The air which is called " Alloa House" in James Oswald's " Caledonian 
Pocket Companion," and in others of his Collections, appears to have been composed by him. Several of its passages 
throw it beyond the compass of ordinary voices, and therefore such passages have here been transposed an octave lower 
than they are given in other collections. The Editor of the present work requested his friend Mr. A. M. M'Laren, Sum- 
mertown, Oxford, to write verses for the air, who readily complied with the request by producing the very appropriate 
song " Queen Mary's Farewell to Alloa," written expressly for this work. The particulars of Queen Mary's visit to 
Alloa in July 1566, are given in " The Life of Mary Queen of Scots, by George Chalmers, F.R.S.S.A.," 2d edition, vol. i. 
sec. viii. p. 278. Mr. M'Laren was, in his boyhood, familiar with the whole scenery of Alloa and the adjacent country; 
and he mentions that " the stream alluded to in the first line" [of his song] " is the Devon — not Burns's Devon, which 
runs along the foot of the Ochils and falls into the Forth at Cambus, but a smaller stream, which, in a many- winding 
course through luxuriant copsewood, skirts the Mar Park, and falls into the Forth below Clackmannan." 



= 63 







Fare - well, thou stream that wind - ing flow-3 


li - za's 





spare the 




el throes 

With - 


less chain, And yet 

guish ; To 


-j— - # P-» -m-» P-< 




fire in ev - 'ry vein, Nor dare dis - close my an - guish. 

Love's veriest wretch, unseen, unknown, 

I fain my griefs would cover : 
The bursting sigh, the unweeting groan, 

Betray the hapless lover. 
I know thou doom'st me to despair, 

Nor wilt, nor canst relieve me ; 
But, oh ! Eliza, hear one prayer — 

For pity's sake forgive me. 

The music of thy voice I heard, 

Nor wist while it enslaved me ; 
I saw thine eyes, yet nothing fear'd, 

Till fears no more had saved me. 
The unwary sailor thus aghast, 

The wheeling torrent viewing ; 
'Mid circling horrors sinks at last 

In overwhelming ruin. 

" Farewell, thou stream that winding flows." The words were composed by Burns in November 1794, and 
sent to Mi*. George Thomson in a letter, in which the poet notices them thus : — " Now for my English song to ' Nancy's 
to the greenwood,' &c." We think that Burns's words suit the character of the air much better than the old humorous 
song, by an unknown author, beginning, " There Nancy's to the greenwood gane," published by Allan Eamsay in his 
Tea-Table Miscellany, and by Johnson in No. 50 of his Musical Museum. Mr. Stenhouse says, that the old song with 
the music appears in the first edition of the Orpheus Caledonius in 1725, and adds : — " Mr. Gay selected this charming 
old Scottish air for one of his songs, beginning, 'In war we've nought but death to fear,' in his Musical Opera of 
Achilles, pei-formed at Covent-Garden in 1733, after the author's death." We have repeatedly noticed the remarkable 
tact of Burns in suiting his songs to the character of the airs for which he wrote them. In this song he seems to have 
happily hit the real character of the air, " Nancy's to the greenwood gane." Mr. Stenhouse calls the old words " a 
fine old and exquisitely humorous Scottish song." After an attentive examination, we are quite unable to perceive 
its " exquisite humour," though it seems sufficiently vulgar. 












'Twas with - in 



E - din - bu - rgh town, In 










of the 

year ; 



ers bloom'd, and the 









grass was down, And 

each shepherd woo'd his dear. 

Bon - nie Jock - ie, 






blythe and gay, Kiss'd young Jen-nie mak - ing hay ; The la3 - sie blush'd, and frowning cried, " Na, 
^3, v ~n espressivo. 




it win - na 

do ; 


can-na, can-na, 

maun-na bu - ckle to." 

Young Jockie was a wag that never wad wed, 

Though lang he had followed the lass ; 
Contented she earn'd and eat her brown bread, 
And merrily turn'd up the grass. 
Bonnie Jockie, blythe and free, 
Won her' heart right merrily : 
Yet still she blush'd, and frowning cried, " Na, na, 

it winna do ; 
I canna, canna, winna, winna, maunna buckle to." 

But when he vow'd he wad make her his bride, 

Though his flocks and herds were not few, 
She gi'ed him her hand and a kiss beside, 
And vow'd she'd for ever be true. 
Bonnie Jockie, blythe and free, 
Won her heart right merrily : 
At kirk she no more frowning cried, " Na, na, it 

winna do ; 
I canna, canna, winna, winna, maunna buckle to." 

" Within a mile op Edinburgh." In Playford's first volume of " Wit and Mirth," 1698, there appears an old 
Anglo-Scottish song, entitled, " 'Twas within a furlong of Edinborough town," supposed to be by Thomas D'Urfey. 
The air, in G minor, evidently English, also appears in the latter portion of the original volume of the Leyden MS., in 
ordinary notation, not in tablature; and is there named, " Two furlongs from Edinburgh town." We give this air 
below. The words here given are only a modern though improved version of the old verses, adapted to an air com- 
posed by Mr. James Hook, a very popular and prolific composer of his day. He was born at Norwich in 1746, and 
died in 1827, leaving two sons, the Rev. Dr. Hook, Prebendary of Winchester, and Theodore Edward Hook, the latter 
a man of most versatile talents — an improvvisatore in music and poetry — a clever novelist and journalist. Theodore 
Hook died August 24, 1841. The following is the air, " Two furlongs from Edinburgh town :" — 









ffe te^M #HFJ §^^p |^^pip^^^Pfl 

-P-* P—P- 



P r-p- 


gliil^i^gg P^ iiSi^gilp 



,• = 72 





•IT*" • 

Och, hey! John - nie lad, Ye're no sae kind's ye should ha'e been; Och, hey! 

f S^^S ^E^^^P^Pp ^^^^ 

John - nie lad, Ye did - na keep your tryst' yestreen. I wait - ed lang be -side the wood, Sae 







r-^f^ i 

1 — ><r 

wae 2 and wea - ry a' my lane ; Och, hoy! John - nie lad, Ye'ro no sae kind's ye should ha'e been. 

I looked by the whinny knowe, 

I looked by the firs sae green, 
I looked owre the spunkie howe 3 — 

And aye I thought ye wad ha'e been. 
The ne'er a supper cross'd my craig, 4 

The ne'er a sleep has closed my e'en, 
Och, hey ! Johnnie lad, 

Ye're no sae kind's ye should ha'e been. 

Gin ye were waiting by the wood, 

Then I was waiting by the thorn — 
I thought it was the place we set, 

And waited maist till dawning morn. 
Sae be na vex'd, my bonnie lassie, 

Let my waiting stand for thine, 
We'll awa' to Craigton shaw, 

And seek the joys we tint 5 yestreen. 

1 An engagement to meet. 

- Sad. 

8 Hollow ground haunted by the ignis fatuus. 

" Och, bey ! Johnnie lad." This song was written by Robert Tannahill, of whom we have given some account in 
pp. 66, 75. In Johnson's Museum, vol. iv. No. 375, there is a song beginning "Hey, how, my Johnnie lad, ye're 
no sae kind's ye sud ha'e been," reprinted from Herd's Collection of 1776. The author is anonymous. In Mr. 
Robert Jamieson's Popular Ballads and Songs, Edinburgh, 1806, vol. ii. pp. 330, 331, he gives a song composed by 
himself, " to the old air." It begins, " Heich-how ! my Johnnie lad, ye're nae sae kind's ye shou'd ha'e been." He 
says, in a Note : — " Heich-how 1 Johnnie lad, is a very popular air in Scotland ; but the only words I have ever heard 
sung to it are those preserved in the first stanza of the above song, to the last two lines of which I have ventured to 
give a different cast from the traditionary ones." Tannahill's verses are adapted to the very popular old air which 
appeared under the title of " The lasses of the Ferry," in Bremner's Collection of Reels and Country Dances, pub- 
lished in 1764. It is the same air as is given, No. 357 of Johnson, to the words, " Hey, how, my Johnnie lad." In his 
Note upon No. 306 of Johnson, Mr. Stenhouse says that the verses there " are adapted to the old air of ' Ah, ha! 
Johnnie lad, ye're nae sae kind's ye su'd ha'e been.' " See Note upon " Comin' thro' the rye," p. 83. The following 
is the air, No. 306 of Johnson's Museum : — 


The following is " The Miller's Wedding," a Strathspey, from Robert Bremner's Collection of " Scots Reels and 
Country Dances." Its resemblance to some of the other airs above-mentioned will be at once perceived. It is here 
transposed from D into G. 






: 120 





agitato, -(gi 







night is dark, 



is Ions 

r ¥=i 1 


Be - 








tween my love and me ; I hear the rush of moun - tain streams, The 





roar - ing 









fierce and chill, 


blind - ing snow sweeps o'er the waste ; 



no star, gives 


light to guide My steps that 



My sinking heart foretells my fate — 
No morn shall dawn for me ! 

A deep snow-wreath must be my grave 
Upon this lonely lea ! 

My Mary and rny little oneB 

No more around my neck shall fold 
Their loving arms, until they rend 

My snowy death-shroud cold ! 

" On a Bank of Flowers." Such is the title given to an air that has repeatedly appeared in Scottish Collections, 
but was really composed by a German, John Ernest Gaillard. He was the son of a French perruque-maker, and was 
born at Zell, in Hanover, in 1687. He studied music under eminent masters — among others Farinelli and Steffani. 
He entered into the music service of Prince George of Denmark ; and, on the marriage of that Prince, came to 
England, where he seems to have studied the language with care and success. On the death of Battista Draghi, he 
obtained the place of chapel-master, at Somerset House, to the Queen Dowager Catherine, widow of Charles II. This 
appointment was then a sinecure. He composed a Te Deum, a Jubilate, and three Anthems, which were performed 
at St. Paul's and the Chapel Koyal on thanksgivings for victories obtained by Marlborough in the course of the War 
of the Succession. At one time his merits and interests afforded some reason to suppose that he would obtain the 
direction of the musical performances in England ; but not being able to stand against Handel, or even Bononcini, he 
wisely declined the competition. In 1728, he published the Morning Hymn of Adam and Eve; since reprinted. 
About the year 1745 he had a concert for his benefit in Lincoln's-Inn-Fields' theatre, at which were performed the 
choruses to the Duke of Buckingham's two tragedies of Brutus and Julius Cwsar, set to music by himself, and a 
curious instrumental piece for twenty-four bassoons and four double-basses. He was an esteemed composer of both 
serious and dramatic music. In his opera of " The Royal Chace, or Merlin's Cave," is a song beginning " With early 
horn," which, when sung by Beard, was so enthusiastically received, that the opera had a run of upwards of one 
hundred nights. Several of his songs were published in Watts' Musical Miscellany. Among them " On a bank of 
flowers " appears in the first volume of that work, page 30. The words are very objectionable ; and though Burns 
endeavoured to shape them into a better form for Johnson's Museum, we cannot adopt his version. The words here 
given are written by a friend of the Publishers. In 1742, Gaillard wrote and published an excellent English trans- 
lation of Tosi's celebrated Italian treatise on singing. He died at London in the beginning of 1749. 








Cauld blaws the wind frae 

north to south, The drift is drift - ing 






]y ; The sheep are cow'r - ing 

in the heugh, 1 O, 

Sirs ! its win - ter 





Now up in the morn - ing's no for me, 

Up in the morn - ing 





ear - ly ; I'd ra - ther gae sup-per - less 


my bed, Than rise in the morn - ing ear - ly. 

Loud roars the blast amang the woods, 

And tirls the branches barely •, 
On hill and house hear how it thuds ! 3 

The frost is nipping sairly. 
Now up in the morning's no for me, 

Up in the morning early; 
To sit a' nicht wad better agree 

Than rise in the morning early. 

The sun peeps owre yon southland hills, 

Like ony timorous carlie, 3 
Just blinks a wee, then sinks again ; 

And that we find severely. 
Now up in the morning's no for me, 

Up in the morning early ; 
When snaw blaws in at the chimley cheek, 

Wha'd rise in the morning early ? 

Nae Unties lilt on hedge or bush : 

Poor things, they suffer sairly ; 
In cauldrife quarters a' the nicht ; 

A' day they feed but sparely. 
Now up in the morning's no for me, 

Up in the morning early ; 
A pennyless purse I wad rather dree 4 

Than rise in the morning early. 

A cosie 5 house and canty wife, 

Aye keep a body cheerly ; 
And pantries stow'd wi' meat and drink, 

They answer unco rarely. 
But up in the morning — na, na, na ! 

Up in the morning early ! 
The gowans maun glent 6 on bank and brae, 

When I rise in the morning early. 

1 A dell ; a ravine. " To beat ; to strike. 

5 Comfortable; snug. 

3 A little man. 

6 Peep out, or shine. 

" Up in the morning early." In a Note upon this air as given in Johnson's Museum, No. 140, Mr. Stenhouse 
says : — " This air is also very ancient, and has even been a favourite in England for several generations, some of their 
old songs being adapted to it." Mr. Stenhouse then gives the anecdote about Purcell and the air " Cold and Raw," 
from Sir John Hawkin's History of Music, and Purcell's adaptation of it as a bass to a birth-day song for 1692, as it 
appears in Purcell's Orpheus Britannicus, vol. ii. p. 151 of Henry Playford's edition in 1702. The air as there given 
is by no means " note for note the same with the Scots tune" given in No. 140 of Johnson. Mr. Stenhouse concludes 
thus : — " Purcell, however, must have borrowed the idea of adapting the old air as a bass part for his song from John 
Hilton, who introduced the same tune into his ' Northern Catch' for three voices, beginning, ' 1'se gae with thee, my 
sweet Peggy,' printed in 1652. In this humorous catch, the tune of ' Up in the morning early,' is adapted for the third 
voice. This tune was selected by Mr. Gay for one of the songs in The Beggar's Opera, beginning, ' If any wench 
Venus' girdle wear,' acted in 1728." See Museum Illustrations, vol. ii. pp. 131-133. Mr. Chappell, in his Collection, 
No. 121, gives two versions of " Cold and Raw" as English airs. But these differ somewhat from Purcell's and John- 
son's sets of the disputed tune. The words were written by the late John Hamilton, Musicseller in Edinburgh. 



.• = 96 



i ^feppg^ ^m^^f 

Max - well - ton braes are bon - nie, 

Where ear - ly fa's the 




And it's there that An - nie Lau. - rie 

Gi'ed me her pro - mise 


true ; 



Gi'ed me her pro - mise true, 



Which ne'er for - got will 



-* — m- 

lay me down and dee. 

be, And for bon - nie An - nie Lau - rie, I'd 

Her brow is like the snaw-drift, 

Her neck is like the swan, 
Her face it is the fairest 

That e'er the sun shone on ; 
That e'er the sun shone on, 

And dark blue is hev e'e ; 
And for bonnie Annie Laurie 

I'd lay me down and dee. 

Like dew on the gowan lying, 

Is the fa' o' her fairy feet ; 
And like winds in summer sighing. 

Her voice is low and sweet. 
Her voice is low and sweet, 

And she's a' the world to me ; 
And for bonnie Annie Laurie 

I'd lay me down and dee. 

" Annie Laurie." We give the more modern version of the song. With regard to the other version, said to have 
been written about 160 years ago, Mr. Robert Chambers says, "These two verses, which are in a style wonderfully 
tender and chaste for their age, were written by a Mr. Douglas of Fingland, upon Anne, one of the four daughters of 
Sir Robert Laurie, first baronet of Maxwellton, by his second wife, who was a daughter of Riddell of Minto. As Sir 
Robert was created a baronet in the year 1685, it is probable that the verses were composed about the end of the 
seventeenth or the beginning of the eighteenth century. It is painful to record that, notwithstanding the ardent and 
chivalrous affection displayed by Mr. Douglas in his poem, he did not obtain the heroine for a wife : she was married 
to Mr. Ferguson of Craigdarroch. See ' A Ballad Book,' (printed at Edinburgh in 1824,) p. 107." — Chambers's 
Scottish Songs, Edinburgh, 1829, vol. ii. p. 294. We must observe, however, that the second stanza of the song, 
ascribed to Mr. Douglas, beginning. " She's backit like the peacock," is evidently borrowed, with modifications, from 
a stanza, not quotable, in an old version of " John Anderson, my Jo." The air of Annie Laurie is quite modern, 
having been composed by Lady J S 1. For the further satisfaction of our readers, we subjoin Allan Cunning- 
ham's Note upon " Annie Laurie," in his " Songs of Scotland," Edinburgh, 1825, vol. iii. pp. 256, 257. " I found this 
song in the little ' Ballad Book,' collected and edited by a gentleman to whom Scottish literature is largely indebted 
— Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe of Hoddam. It is accompanied by the following notice : — ' Sir Robert Laurie, first 
Baronet of the Maxwellton family, (created 27th March 1685,) by his second wife, a daughter of Riddell of Minto, 
had three sons and four daughters, of whom Anne was much celebrated for her beauty, and made a conquest of Air. 
Douglas of Fingland, who is said to have composed the following verses under an unlucky star — for the lady married 
Mr. Ferguson of Craigdarroch.' I have only to add, that I am glad such a song finds a local habitation in my native 
place." Allan Cunningham quotes the song from Mr. Sharpe's " Ballad Book ;" but we observe that that version 
differs in its readings from the one given by Mr. R. Chambers. The former reads — " Where I and Annie Laurie" — 
"I'd lay down my head and die" — "a peacock" — "a swan" — "may span;" while the latter reads — "Where me 
and Annie Laurie" — " I'll lay me doun and die"—" the peacock" — " the swan" — " micht span." 










When lang sin - syne I mar - ried, I thought my - sel' a 






hap - py man ; But, bech ! I sair mis - car - ried, For then my cares be 






The wee bit loves that flut - ter'd Sae smit - in' round our 


—I 1 -I \ 

1 — — t- 

4 # 

*— I— s>-t 

^- J — * 9 

court -in' days, Wae's me! they now but mut - ter'd, "A - dieu !" and flew their ways! 

My wife wad dress fu' brawly, 
While I but gaed wi' duddy claes ; 

My siller cam' in smally, 
My shoon too lost their taes ! 

The bairnies ay were squallin', 
The parritch-pat aye wanted meal ; 

My wife she aye was bawlin', 
And ca'd me, " Ne'er-do-weel !" 

Whan I rase i' the mornin', 

To seek my weary wark frae hame, 
My wife she aye was scornin' 

My want o' gear, wi' blame. 

Ae mornin' I said till her — 

" I'm gaun to far Van-Diemen's land : 
My troth ! that speech was plainly 

What she might understand ! 

Aye since that day we never 

Ha'e had ae word o' strife atween, 

But she declares for ever, 
" Offence she didna mean !" 

I work wi' might an' will noo, 
Since a' is peace an' love at hame ; 

The parritch-pat is aye sae fa' 
There's some left o'er for shame ! 

" Aiken Drum." We have been unable to obtain any satisfactory information regarding the origin of this air. 
Some persons consider it as one of the most ancient of our Scottish airs. We do not. In our boyhood it used to be 
sung to ludicrous but unmeaning stanzas, beginning — 

" There lived a man in our town, 
In our town, in our town, 
There lived a man in our town, 
And his name was Aiken Drum." 

We were told that this man wore a strange coat, with buttons of " bawbee-baps," and that "he played upon a razor." 
James Hogg, in the second series of his " Jacobite Relics," page 22, gives another " Aiken Drum," which he interprets 
politically, with the aid of Sir Walter Scott — 

" Ken ye how a Whig can fight, 
Aikendrum, Aikendrum," &c. 

The air to which these political stanzas are set is quite different from the air here given, with words written for it by 
a friend of the Publishers. Hogg quotes also the first stanza of another Aiken Drum, in which that personage is said 
to have come from the moon. In Mr. R. Chambers's " Popular Rhymes of Scotland," there is a vigorous ballad of 
thirty stanzas about another Aiken Drum, called " The Brownie of Blednock," written by William Nicholson, a Dum- 
friesshire peasant. 



» = 58 








Since all 


vows, false maid, 

Are blown 







And my poor heart be - tray'd 



de - spair ; 

In - to so 



to some wil 

der - nesa My 


ex - press, 




And thy hard - heart 

Have I not graven our loves 

On every tree 
In yonder spreading grove, 

Though false thou be? 
Was not a solemn oath 
Plighted betwixt us both, 
Thou thy faith, I my troth, 

Constant to be ? 
Some gloomy place I'll find, 

Some doleful shade, 
Where neither sun nor wind 

E'er entrance had. 
Into that hollow cave 
There will I sigh and rave, 
Because thou dost behave 

So faithlessly. 
Wild fruit shall be my meat, 

I'll drink the spring ; 
Cold earth shall be my seat ; 

For covering, 

ed - ness, Oh, cru - el 

I'll have the starry sky 
My head to canopy, 
Until my soul on high 

Shall spread its wing. 
I'll have no funeral fire, 

No tears for me ; 
No grave do I require, 

Nor obsequie : 
The courteous red-breast, he 
With leaves will cover me, 
And sing my elegy 

With doleful voice. 
And when a ghost I am, 

I'll visit thee, 
Oh, thou deceitful dame, 

Whose cruelty 
Has kill'd the kindest heart 
That e'er felt Cupid's dart, 
And never can desert 

From loving thee ! 


" Cromlet's Lilt." This is the common name of the song, though its proper name is " Cromleck's Lilt." Near 
the end of the sixteenth century, young Chisholm of Cromleck and Miss Helen Murray, commonly called " Fair Helen 
of Ardoch," formed a strong mutual attachment. Helen's maternal grandfather, Murray of Strewan, was one of the 
seventeen sons of Tullibardane. Her father, Stirling of Ardocb, had a family consisting of no less than thirty-one 
children, so that fair Helen's dowry must have been a slender one, and Chisholm's love the more honourably dis- 
interested. Mr. Stirling, her youngest brother, commonly styled the Tutor of Ardoch, died in 1716, at the extra- 
ordinary age of 111 years. Young Chisholm being obliged to go to France for a time, during his absence entrusted 
his letters to Helen to a friend near Dunblane. This man played the traitor, suppressed Chisholm's letters, and mis- 
represented his conduct to Helen ; while at the same time he misrepresented Helen's feelings and conduct to Chisholm. 
When he had destroyed the mutual confidence of the lovers, he then sought Helen for himself. It was at this time 
that Chisholm, still abroad, composed the affecting ballad called " Cromleck's Lilt." In brief, the grieved and per- 
secuted Helen at last reluctantly allowed the marriage ceremony to be performed, but there her compliance ended. 
Cromleck arriving soon after, discovered the deep treachery of his pretended friend : the marriage was annulled, and 
fair Helen became the happy wife of her beloved Cromleck. Such is the tradition. For more minute particulars 
consult Museum Illustrations, vol. ii. pp. 185-187, and 222-226. The ballad of " Cromleck's Lilt," with the music, is 
inserted in the Orpheus Caledonius, 1725. The tune was selected by the Rev. William Geddes, in 1673, for one of 
the Iiymns in his " Saint's Recreation," which was afterwards printed at Edinburgh in 1683. This hymn is entitled 
" The Pathway to Paradise, or the Fourtraiture of Piety." 










-g- -4- • 



Com - in' thro' the craig9 o* Kyle, 1 A - mang the bon - nie bloom - in' hea - ther, 


There I met 


nie las - sie, Keep - ing 

S-^-^ ^lE^ 

her yowes the - gi - ther. 


=£_ — 7 — / V — V V=&- 


-g=P £ — *=£=&= 

O'er the muir a - mang the hea - ther, O'er the muir a - mang the hea - ther, 







I met 

bon - nie 


sie, Keep - ing 

a' her yowes the - gi - ther. 

Says I, My dear, whare is thy hame ? 

In muir or dale, pray tell me whether ? 
She says, I tent these fleecy flocks 
That feed amang the bloomin' heather. 
O'er the muir amang the heather, 
O'er the muir amang the heather ; 
She says, I tent these fleecy flocks 
That feed amang the bloomin' heather. 
We laid us down upon a bank, 

Sae warm and sunny was the weather ; 
She left her flocks at large to rove 
Amang the bonnie bloomin' heather. 
O'er the muir amang the heather, 
O'er the muir amang the heather ; 
She left her flocks at large to rove 
Amang the bonnie bloomin' heather. 

While thus we lay she sang a sang, 
Till echo rang a mile and farther ; 
And aye the burden o' the sang 

Was, O'er the muir amang the heather. 
O'er the muir amang the heather, 
O'er the muir amang the heather ; 
And aye the burden o' the sang 
Was, O'er the muir amang the heather. 
She charm'd my heart, and aye sinsyne 

I couldna think on ony ither : 
By sea and sky ! she shall be mine, 
The bonnie lass amang the heather. 
O'er the muir amang the heather, 
O'er the muir amang the heather ; 
By sea and sky ! she shall be mine, 
The bonnie lass amang the heather. 

1 "The Craigs o' Kyle are a range of small hills about a mile south of the village of Coilton, in the parish of that name." — Paton. 

" O'er the Meir amano ihe Heather." In that curious and entertaining work, " The Contemporaries of Burns, 
and the more recent Poets of Ayrshire," published at Edinburgh in 1840, by Mr. Hugh Paton, Carver and Gilder to 
Her Majesty, &c, and which we have occasionally quoted in the Notes to this Collection, we find some information 
regarding the authoress of this song. We quote part of it, and refer the reader to the work itself, pp. 34-37. " Burns 
communicated this song to 'Johnson's Scots Musical Museum ;' and in his ' Remarks on Scottish Songs and Ballads,' 
he states, in language somewhat rude, ' that it is the composition of a Jean Glover, a girl who .... has visited 
most of the correction-houses in the West. She was born, I believe, in Kilmarnock. I took the song down from her 
singing, as she was strolling with a sleight-of-hand blackguard through the country.' Though the song alluded to 
has been long popular, and copied into numerous Collections, this is all that has hitherto transpired respecting Jeanie 
Glover. That the song was her own we are left in no manner of doubt ; for it must be inferred, from the positive 
statement of the Poet, that she had herself assured him of the fact. It is well that Burns expressed himself in decided 
language ; for otherwise it would scarcely be credited, that one of our sweetest and most simple lyrics should have 

been the production of a person whose habits and course of life were so irregular When at Muirkirk, we 

were fortunate enough to learn some particulars relative to Jeanie Glover. A niece of hers still resides there : and 
one or two old people distinctly remember to have seen her. She was born at the Townhead of Kilmarnock, on the 
31st October 1758, of parents respectable in their sphere. That her education was superior, the circumstances of her 
birth will not permit us to believe ; but she was brought up in the principles of rectitude, and had the advantage 
of that early instruction which few Scottish families are without. She was remarkable for beauty— both of face and 
figure — properties which, joined to a romantic and poetic fancy, had no doubt their influence in shaping her future 
unfortunate career. She was also an excellent singer." Jean Glover died in 1801, in the town of Letterkenny, in 
Ireland. The tune was published as a reel in R. Bremner's Collection, p. 77, about the year 1764, but differs there 
from Johnson's version in the " Museum." 










her gra 




dis - close, Birds 






•-* — *- 







sweet- ly chant on ilk - a spray; 'Mang broom - y knowes the shep -herd goes, While 



sport - ive 

lamb - kins round him play. 


rap - tur'd now 





take my way, While 

joy en 

liv - ens 

the scene ; Down 

§ ^^ Etm ^^^£&^ m 

by yon shad - ed stream I stray, To 

meet and hail my bon - nie Jean. 

Ye Kelburn groves, by spring attired, 

Where zephyrs sport amang the flowers, 
Your fairy scenes I've aft admired, 

While jocund pass'd the sunny hours. 
But doubly happy in 3 r our bowers, 

When fragrance scents the dewy e'en, 
I wander whare your streamlet pours, 

To meet an' hail my bonnie Jean. 

Let grandeur rear her lofty dome, 

Let mad ambition kingdoms spoil, 
Through foreign lands let avarice roam, 

An' for her prize unceasing toil ; 
Give me fair nature's vernal smile, 

The shelter'd grove and daisied green, 
I'll happy tread my native soil, 

To meet an' hail my bonnie Jean. 

"Bonnie Jean." Mr. Stenhouse's Note is as follows : — "This fine pastoral melody was in -former times called 
' My bonnie Jean of Aberdeen,' the last line of the chorus of a very old song which Ramsay had deemed inadmissible 
in his Collection. This poet, however, wrote the song in the Museum beginning ' Love's goddess in a myrtle grove,' 
in 1723, and Thomson adapted it to the old tune in his Orpheus Caledonius in 1725. Watts reprinted both the words 
and music in the first volume of his Musical Miscellany, in 1729, and the song has since appeared in various collec- 
tions. Adam Craig, who was one of the principal violin-players at the concert held at Edinburgh on St. Cecilia's 
Day, the 22d of November 1695, published a Collection of Old Scottish Airs in 1730, one of which is 'Bonny Jean of 
Aberdeen.' The reader will find a plan of this concert, with the names of the professional and amateur performers, 
inserted in the first volume of the Transactions of the Antiquarian Society of Edinburgh, and likewise in the Edin- 
burgh Magazine, or Literary Miscellany for February 1792, communicated by the late William Tytler of Woodhouse- 
lee, Esq. Mr. Charles Coffey selected this air of ' My bonny Jean ' for one of his songs, beginning, ' Long have I been 
with grief oppress'd,' in his musical opera of ' The Female Parson, or Beau in the Sudds,' acted at Haymarket Theatre 
in London, 1730. This opera was very justly condemned by the audience on the first night of its representation ; but 
the author published it with the songs set to music, (among which there are several Scottish Melodies,) in the course 
of the same year." See Museum Illustrations, vol. i. pp. 57, 58. The set of the air in Watts (p. 113) differs a little 
from Johnson's in two or three passages, and seema to us the better set, except in the penultimate measure. We see 
no reason for the air being peculiarly considered as a "pastoral melody," any more than various other modern 
Scottish airs, which had fully as much relation to the town as to the country. The compass of the air is too exten- 
sive for most voices. We have not been able to trace satisfactorily the author of this song. In that valuable and 
excellent work, The Book of Scottish Song, p. 292, Messrs. Blackie give the words anonymously. 




= 80 






-*— ■*- 

r~ ^i fc 

Last May a braw woo - er cam' down the lang glen, And flair wi' his 






love he did deave me ; I 



said there was naething I ha - ted like men ; The 

^ -r- 





deuce gae wi' him to be - lieve me, be - lieve me, The deuce 

wi' him to be - lieve me. 

He spak' o' the darts o' my bonnic black e'en, 

And vow'd for my love he was deein'. 
I said he micht dee when he liked for Jean ; 

The guid forgi'e me for leein', for leein', 

The guid forgi'e me for leein' ! 

A weel-stockit mailin', 1 himsel' o't the laird, 

And marriage aff-hand, was his proffer. 
I never loot on that I kenn'd it or cared ; 

But thocht I micht ha'e a waur 2 offer, waur offer, 

But thocht I micht ha'e a waur offer. 

But what do ye think, in a fortnicht or less — 

The deil's in his taste to gang near her ! — 
He up the Gateslack to my black cousin Bess — 

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

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

He begged for gudesake ! I wad be his wife, 
Or else I wad kill him wi' sorrow ; 

Sae, e'en to preserve the puir body in life, 
I think I maun wed him to-morrow, to-morrow, 
I think I maun wed him to-morrow. 

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

I gaed to the tryst o' Dalgarnock ; 
And wha but my braw fickle wooer was there? 

Wha glower'd 3 as if he'd seen a warlock, a war- 

Wha glower'd as if he'd seen a warlock. 

Out ower my left shouther I gi'ed him a blink, 4 
Lest neebors micht say I was saucy ; 

My wooer he caper'd as he'd been in drink, 
And vow'd that I was his dear lassie, dear lassie, 
And vow'd that I was his dear lassie. 

I speir'd for my cousin, fu' couthie 6 and sweet, 
Gin she had recovered her hearin' ? 

And how my auld shoon fitted her shauchled 11 feet? 
Gude sauf us! how he fell a-swearin', a-swearin', 
Gude sauf us ! how he fell a-swearin'. 

1 A well-stocked farm. 

- Worse. 

s Who stared. 

> Smiling look. 

» Kindly. 

6 Distorted. 

" Last Mat abkaw wooee." Mr. Stenhouse says : — " This humorous song was written by Burns in 1787, for the 
second volume of the Museum ; but Johnson, the publisher, who was a religious and well-meaning man, appeared 
fastidious about its insertion, as one or two expressions in it seemed somewhat irreverent. Burns afterwards made 
several alterations upon the song, and sent it to Mr. George Thomson for his Collection, who readily admitted it into 
his second volume, and the song soon became very popular. Johnson, however, did not consider it at all improved 
by the later alterations of our bard. It soon appeared to him to have lost much of its pristine humour and simpli- 
city ; and the phrases which he had objected to were changed greatly for the worse. He therefore published the 
song as originally written by Burns for his work. In order to enable the reader to judge how far Johnson was, or 
was not correct, both editions of the song are here annexed." We have for the most part adopted the earlier version 
of the song, as it is the better of the two. Mr. George Thomson, in his Collection, gives, a reading of one line in the 
penultimate stanza which we do not follow — " And how her neto shoon fit her auld shauchled feet." Johnson's read 
ing is much better — " And how my auld shoon fitted her shauchled feet" — the phrase " auld shoon" being a sarcastic 
expression when applied to a discarded lover who pays his addresses to another fair one. Of the Becond edition of 
the song Mr. Stenhouse says, justly — " These alterations, in general, are certainly far from being in the happiest style 
of Burns. Indeed he appears to have been in bad health and spirits when he made them ; for, in the letter inclosing 
the song, he says—' I am at present quite occupied with the charming sensations of the toothach, so have not a word 
to spare.' " Mr. Stenhouse adds — " It only remains to be observed that this song is adapted to the tune called, The 
Queen of the Lothians, the name of a curious old ballad, which is produced in the sixth volume of the Museum, and 
inserted after the modern words by Burns." See Aluseum Illustrations, vol. vi. pp. 460-463. 




• = 100 


aie, " johxnie's grey breeks." 





7J" ft ^- J 


'Twas ev'n, the dew - y fields were green, On ev - ry blade the 





pearls hung; The zeph-yrs wan - ton'd round the bean, And bore its fra - grant sweets a - lang ; 



Ife ^fe*^ 





In ev - 'ry glen the ma - vis sang, All na - ture list - 'ning seem'd the while, Ex • 





cept where green - wood e - choes rang, A - mang the hraes o' Bal - loch - myle. 

With careless step I onward stray'd, 

My heart rejoic'd in nature's joy, 
When, musing in a lonely glade, 

A maiden fair I chanced to spy. 
Her look was like the morning's eye, 

Her air like Nature's vernal smile — 
Perfection whisper'd, passing by, 

Behold the lass o' Ballochmyle ! 

Fair is the morn in flowery May, 

And sweet is night in Autumn mild, 
When roving through the garden gay, 

Or wandering in the lonely wild ; 
But Woman, Nature's darling child! 

There all her charms she does compile ; 
Ev'n there her other works are foil'd 

By the bonnie lass o' Ballochmyle. 

0, had she been a country maid, 

And I the happy country swain. 
Though shelter'd in the lowest shed 

That ever rose in Scotland's plain ; 
Through weary winter's wind and rain, 

With joy, with rapture, I would toil ; 
And nightly to my bosom strain 

The bonnie lass o' Ballochmyle. 

Then pride might climb the slippery steep 

Where fame and honours lofty shine ; 
And thirst of gold might tempt the deep, 

Or downward seek the Indian mine ; 
Give me the cot below the pine, 

To tend the flocks or till the soil, 
And every day have joys divine 

With the bonnie lass o' Ballochmyle. 

" The Lass o' BallochmyIe." In the second volume of the beautiful edition of Burns's works published by Messrs. 
Blackie and Son, we find, p. 13, the following passage in a long Note regarding this Bong :—" The braes of Balloch- 
myle extend along the right or north bank of the Ayr, between the village of Catrine and Howford bridge, and are 
situate at the distance of about two miles from Burns's farm of Mossgiel. They form the most important part of the 
pleasure-grounds connected with Ballochmyle House, the seat of Claud Alexander, Esq. of allochmyle, whose sister, 
Miss Wilhelmina Alexander, was the subject of the poem. Bending in a concave form, a mixture of steep bank and 
precipice, clothed with the most luxuriant natural wood, while a fine river sweeps round beneath them, they form a 
scene of bewildering beauty, exactly such as a poet would love to dream in during a July eve." It appears that 
Burns composed the song in the spring of 1786, when he had wandered forth one evening on the banks of Ayr, as he 
says, " to view Nature in all the gaiety of the vernal year." He sent the song in a letter to Miss Alexander, dated 
18th November 1786, which she did not answer, although she was proud of both, and preserved them most carefully. 

In Oswald's Second Collection, published by John Simpson, London, we find, p. 6, a tune in three-fourth time, 
called " Jocky's gray breeches," and immediately following it the more modern tune in common time, evidently 
borrowed from the former, and probably manufactured from it by Oswald himself. It thus appears that the older 
version of the air, Johnnie's grey breeks, was in triple time. 













And we're 

nod -din', nid, nid, noddin', And we're a' 

nod - din* at 


» — •- 



our house at hame. 

: h 


to ye, kim - mer, And are ye a - lane ? 





-* — # — »- 


comeandseehowblytheare we, For Ja-mie lie's cam' hame ; And 

fe^EB^^ ^g^^ 

O, but he's been lang a - wa', And 





O, my heart was sair, As I sob -bed out a lang fare-weel, May - be to meet nae mair. Noo we're 






« -•— I— — *— * — * — *— H 

nod -din', nid, nid, nod-din'; And we're a' 

od - din' at our house at hame. 

The succeeding verses commence at the sign '■$'. 

sair ha'e I fought, 
Ear' and late did I toil, 

My bairnies for to feed and dead 1 — 

My comfort was their smile ; 
When I thocht on Jamie far awa', 

An' o' his love sae fain, 2 
A bodin' thrill cam' through my heart 

We'd maybe meet again. 
Noo we're a' noddin', &c. 

When he knocket at the door, 

I thocht I kent the rap, 
And little Katie cried aloud, 

" My daddie he's cam' back !" 
A stoun 3 gaed through my anxious breast, 

As thochtfully I sat, 

1 rase — I gazed — fell in his arms, 
And bursted out and grat. 4 

Noo we're a' noddin', &c. 

i Clothe. 

2 Fond. 

1 Pang. 

' Wept. 

" We're a' noddin'." Air, " Nid noddin'." The words are taken from page 31 of that copious and excellent Col- 
lection " The Book of Scottish Song," published by Messrs. Blackie and Son, Glasgow, Edinburgh, and London, 1843. 
Messrs. Blackie give three different versions of "Nid noddin':" — 1. The coarse verses published in Johnson's Museum, 
and evidently founded on the original words to " John Anderson, my jo," preserved in Bishop Percy's old MS. of the 
sixteenth century ; 2. Verses written by Allan Cunningham, for Mr. G. Thomson's Collection ; 3. The verses which 
we have adopted as the best, and of which the author is unknown. About the year 1820 the air was very popular, 
and was sung at public concerts by several of the fashionable singers of that time. The original of part of the modern 
air appears in No. 523 of Johnson's Museum. 




f = 76 





A -, .Z: 



From wand - 'ring long on 

for - eign shore. Home, home with beat - ing 

well - known path that leads me home : With joy my glist 





eye sur - veys The hal - low'd scene of 

I s 

ly days ; Un 



W^i^F 1 








chang'd, and smil - ing wel - come home, With bound - ing step I come, I come. 

My home, my home I see once more, 

So loved of old by mine and me ; 
A stranger stands beside the door — ■ 

Not ilmt the face I yearn to see. 
With lip that trembles in my fear 
I ask for those I hold so dear, 
And mark the stranger's careless eye 
Glance coldly at the churchyard nigh. 

With drooping head and fainting heart 

I turn me from mine early home ; 
Again, though weary, I depart, 

In other climes to range and roam : 
Since far as I may roam and range, 
No place can be so sad and strange 
As this, when dear ones all are gone, 
And homeless here I stand unknown. 

"The Homeless Heart." Mr. Stenhouse observes that "Mr. John Stafford Smith, in his ' Musica Antiqua,' 
gives this beautiful air as the composition of the celebrated Henry Purcell, because John Playford had printed 
it as such in his ' Musick's Handmaid,' published at London in 1689." See Museum Illustrations, vol. i. p. 2. We 
are able to prove, beyond all dispute, that Henry Purcell was not the composer of this air. Purcell was born in the 
year 1658, and died on 21st November 1695, aged 37. In the MS. Lute-book of Robert Gordon of Straloch, dated 
1627-1629, we find the air, in a simple form of one strain, under the title of " An thou wer myn own thing." We 
give it here. 





The airs transcribed, by the writer of this note from the original Straloch MS., were presented by him, on 26th 
November 1847, to the Library of the Faculty of Advocates, Edinburgh, for preservation. The Straloch MS. belonged 
at one time to the late Dr. Charles Burney, Mus. Doc, and afterwards to the late James Chalmers, Esq. of London. 
It was purchased by some person, who cannot now be traced, at the sale of Mr. Chalmers's books and manuscripts. 
It is now probably lost or destroyed, and therefore the transcript in the Advocates' Library becomes so much the 
more valuable. 

The modernized air, as given by Oswald, M'Gibbon, Peacock, Johnson, and others, consists of two strains ; the 
second strain evidently added, in the latter part of the seventeenth century, to the original old air of one strain. The 
words here given to the air, were written expressly for this work by Mr. A. M. M'Laren, Summertown, Oxford, at 
the request of his friend the Editor. 



,• = 108 







* — «- 

g ^g 



'Twa9 when the wan leaf frae the birk-tree was fa' - in', And Mar - tin-mas dow- ie had 




-#— =- 

wound up the year, That Lu - cy row'd up her wee kist, wi' her a' in't, And 

p $^tttt±^^^^ ^ ^^ 



left her auld mas-ter, and nei -hours sae dear. For Lu - cy had serv'd in the 








glen a' the sim - mer ; She cam' there be • fore the flow'r bloom'd on the pea, 

con espressione. 








or - phan was she, an' they had been gude till her, Sure that was the thing brought the tear in her e'e. 

She gaed by the stable, where Jamie was stanin' ; 

Right sair was his kind heart the flittin' 1 to see ; 
" Fare ye weel, Lucy," quo' Jamie, an' ran in ; — 

The gatherin' tears trickled fast frae her e'e. 
As down the burnside she gaed slow wi' her flittin', 

" Fare ye weel, Lucy," was ilka bird's sang ; 
She heard the craw sayin't, high on the tree sittin', 

An' robin was chirpin't the brown leaves amang. 

" what is't that pits my puir heart in a flutter? 

An' what gars the tear come sae fast to my e'e ? 
If I wasna ettled 2 to be onie better, 

Then what gars me wish onie better to be? 
I'm just like a lammie that loses its mither ; 

Nor mither nor frien' the puir lammie can see ; 
I fear I hae left my bit heart a' thegither, 

Nae wonder the tear fa's sae fast frae my e'e. 

" Wi' the rest o' my claes I ha'e row'd up the ribbon, 

The bonnie blue ribbon that Jamie ga'e me ; 
Yestreen when he ga'e me't, an' saw I saw sabbin', 

I'll never forget the wae blink 8 o' his e'e : 
Tho' now he said naething, but ' Fare ye weel, Lucy,' 

It made me I neither could speak, hear, nor see, 
He couldna say mair than just ' Fare ye weel, Lucy/ 

Yet that I will mind till the day that I die." 

The lamb likes the gowan, wi' dew when it's droukit, 

The hare likes the brake, an' the braird on the lea ; 
But Lucy likes Jamie — she turn'd and she lookit, 

She thought the dear place she wad never mair see. 
Ah ! weel may young Jamie gang dowie an' cheerless ! 

An' weel may he greet on the bank o' the burn '. 
His bonnie sweet Lucy, sae gentle an' peerless, 

Lies cauld in her grave, an' will never return. 

1 To remove from one place to another. 

2 Designed. 

s Woful dance. 

" Lucy's Flittin'." This song was composed by William Laidlaw, a man held in great esteem by Sir Walter Scott, 
and who acted for some years as his bailiff at Abbotsford. Various interesting particulars regarding William 
Laidlaw are given in Mr. Lockhart's " Life of Sir Walter Scott," passim. Mr. Lockhart says, in Note I. page 346, of 
Cadell's edition, 1845 : — " Mr. Laidlaw has not published many verses ; but his song of ' Lucy's Flitting' — a simple 
and pathetic picture of a poor Ettrick maiden's feelings, in leaving a service where she had been happy — has long 
been, and must ever be, a favourite with all who understand the delicacies of the Scottish dialect, and the manners of 
the district in which the scene is laid." Mr. R. A. Smith, the composer of the air, we have already noticed in this 
volume, page 123. His air possesses no originality, but has been so long intimately associated with Mr. Laidlaw's 
verses, that we give it here as a popular tune. 



.• — 63 






^5 — V 

-0 — 



-^— — v- 


Hame, liame, hame, U hame lain would I be, Hame, hame, liame, to my 






£ ; 


ain coun - trie ! There's an eye tliat ev - er weeps, and a fair face will be fain, As I 




-# — •■ 

pass through Annan wa - ter with my bon-nie bands a- gain ; When the flow'r is in the bud, a-id the 





-N-— fe- *: 




leaf up - on the tree, The lark shall sing me hame in my ain coun - trie. 

Hame, hame, hame, hame fain would I be, 
Hame, hame, hame, to my ain countrie ! 
The green leaf of loyalty's beginning for to fa', 
The bonnie white rose it is withering and a', 
But I'll water't with the blood of usurping tyrannie, 
Aud fresh it will blaw in my ain countrie. 

Hame, hame, hame, hame fain would I be, 
Hame, hame, hame, to my ain countrie ! 
There's nought now from ruin my countrie can save, 
But the keys of kind heaven to open the grave, 
That all the noble martyrs who died for loyaltie 
May rise again and fight for their ain countrie. 

Hame, hame, hame, hame fain would I be, 
Hame, hame, hame, to my ain countrie ! 

The great now are gane, a' who ventured to save ; 

The new grass is growing aboon their bloody grave; 

But the sun through the mirk blinks blithe in my e'e, 

I'll shine on ye yet in your ain countrie. 

" Hame, dame, hame !" In vol. iii. pp. 246, 247, of " The Songs of Scotland," edited by Allan Cunningham, we find 
a version of this song beginning, " It's hame, and it's hame." We have followed this version, omitting only the word 
•' It's," which is an unmeaning word used by the country people in many parts of Scotland at the beginning of almost 
every song ; and adopting from Blackie a better reading of the last line of the second stanza — that is, '• And fresh it 
will blaw," instead of " And green it will grow." As the " white rose" is the flower mentioned, the words, " green 
it will grow," are not applicable. The following is Cunningham's Note appended to the words : — " This song is 
noticed in the introduction to the ' Fortunes of Nigel,' and part of it is sung by Richie Moniplies. It is supposed to 
come from the lips of a Scottish Jacobite exile. The old song of the same name had a similar chorus, and one good 
verse against the British fleet, which was then — and may it ever continue ! — master of the sea ; the poet prayed for 
very effectual aid : — 

' May the ocean stop and stand, like walls on every side, 

That our gallant chiefs may pass, wi' heaven for their guide ! 

Dry up the Forth and Tweed, as thou didst the Red Sea, 

When the Israelites did pass to their ain countrie.' " 

In the first volume of Hogg's Jacobite Relics, Song LXXX., we find verses nearly corresponding with those given 
by A.Cunningham, but beginning, "Hame, hame, hame, hame fain wad I be." Hogg's Note says: — "The air to 
which I have heard it sung very beautifully, seems to be a modification of the old tune of Mary Scott, the flower of 
Yarrow," The air given by Hogg to " Hame, hame," is a modification of " Dinna think, bonnie lassie, I'm gaun to 
leave you;" which again is borrowed from the air in triple time, " Mary Scot." The song is, in this work, adapted 
to a modern air which is evidently borrowed from " My love's in Germanic" 




b = 72 







-» — = — " — ' *~~ • — V 

There was a lass, and she was fair, At kirk and mar-ket to be seen, When 





N=z^=fe: S 


-4 — =^—^ * — 

a' the fair - est maids were met, The fair - est maid was bon - nie Jean. And 






aye she wrought her mam - mie's wark, And aye 

sang sae mer - ri - lie: The 


blith - est bird up - on 

the bush 


light - er heart than she. 

But hawks will rob the tender joys 

That bless the little lintwhite's nest ; 
And frost will blight the fairest flowers, 

And love will break the soundest rest. 
Young Robie was the brawest lad, 

The flower and pride of a' the glen ; 
And he had owsen, sheep, and kye, 

And wanton naigies 1 nine or ten. 

He gaed wi' Jeanie to the tryste, 

He danc'd wi Jeanie on the down ; 
And lang e'er witless Jeanie wist, 

Her heart was tint, 2 her peace was stown. 
As in the bosom o' the stream 

The moonbeam dwells at dewy e'en ; 
So trembling, pure, was tender love, 

Within the breast o' bonnie Jean. 

And now she works her mammie's wark, 
And aye she sighs wi' care and pain ; 

Yet wistna what her ail might be, 
Or what wad mak' her wecl again. 

But didna Jeanie's heart loup 3 light, 
And didna joy blink in her e'e, 

As Robie tauld a tale o' love, 
Ae e'enin' on the lily lea ? 

The sun was sinking in the west, 

The birds sang sweet in ilka grove , 
His cheek to hers he fondly prest, 

And whisper'd thus his tale o' love : 
Jeanie fair, I lo'e thee dear ; 

canst thou think to fancy me ! 
Or wilt thou leave thy mammie's cot, 

And learn to tent i the farms wi' me ? 

At barn or byre thou shalt na drudge, 

Or naething else to trouble thee ; 
But stray among the heather-bells, 

And tent the waving corn wi' me. 
Now what could artless Jeanie do ? 

She had nae will to say him na : 
At length she blush'd a sweet consent, 

And love was aye between them twa. 

1 Young horses. 

1 Lost. 

3 Leap. 

4 To take charge of; to watch. 

" There was a Lass, and she was fair." Burns wrote this song to the tune of ". Bonnie Jean," for Mr. G. 
Thomson's Collection. Mr. Thomson, however, adapted it to the tune of " Willie was a wanton wag," and we have 
here given it to the same air. The "Jeanie" thus celebrated by Burns, was Miss Jean Macmurdo, (afterwards Mrs. 
Crawford.) eldest daughter of John Macmurdo, Esq. of Drumlaurig. " I have not painted her," says Burns, " in the 
rank which she holds in life, but in the dress and character of a cottager." Burns himself considered this song as 
" in Ms best style;" and so it certainly is. About the beginning of last century, Mr. Walkingshaw of that ilk, near 
Paisley, wrote a very humorous song beginning, " Willie was. a wanton wag;" which was published in the Orpheus 
Caledonius in 1725, along with the air which now bears that name. We give the old set of the air from Johnson's 
Museum, No. 137. 




,• = 80 










T 4 J_S *-*— I 


Ac - cuse me not, in - con - stant fair, Of be - ing false to 



thee, For I was true, would still been so, Hadst tliou been true to me: 







- *-■- » 

But when I knew tliy plight - ed lips Once to a ri - val's prest, Love 

— , — e=i— .— => 




smoth - er'd 


pond - ence rose, And spurn'd thee from my breast. 

The fairest flower in nature's field 
Conceals the rankling thorn ; 

So thou, sweet flow'r ! as false as fair, 
This once kind heart has torn. 

'Twas mine to prove the fellest pangs 
That slighted love can feel ; 

'Tis thine to weep that one rash act 
Which bids this long farewell. 

" She rose and let me in." As we do not consider the old words, even as they were pruned and polished for 
Johnson, suitable for this work, we have adopted words written by Robert Tannahill to the air of " Lord Gregory," 
and addressed by him to a fair one who had forsaken him. Mr. Eitson, speaking of the old words in his Historical 
Essay on Scottish Song, page 60, says, " This is an English song of great merit, and has been Scotified by the Scots 
themselves. The modern air, a fine composition, probably by Oswald, is very different from that in the Pills." Upon 
this Mr. Stenhouse observes — " The air was composed long before Oswald was born, for a copy of it, in square-shaped 
notes, is inserted in an old MS. virginal book in the possession of the editor. The tune is here entitled, ' Shoe roasse 
and leit me in.' The same tune also appears in the Orpheus Caledonius in 1725. But could any person in his 
sound senses affirm that such lines as the following, in Playford's edition of the song, printed in his fourth volume of 
' Choice Ayres and Songs,' with the music, in 1683, were not only English, but English of great merit too i" We 
decline giving the very coarse quatrain quoted by Mr. Stenhouse, who then proceeds thus : " The truth is, that 
the song was originally written by Francis Semple, Esq. of Beltrees, the Ambassador to Queen Elizabeth, in the 
reign of James the Sixth. A manuscript copy of Francis Semple's Poetical Works was, very lately, and, if living, 
may still be in the hands of one of his descendants, Mrs. Campbell of Paisley." See Museum Illustrations, vol. i. 
pages 86, 87. The editor of Messrs. Blackie's Book of Scottish Song, page 244, makes the following remarks upon 
Ritson's assertion above quoted, and upon the song in question : — " But the reverse happens to be the case, for it is a 
Scotch song, and has been Anglifiad by the Scots themselves. The original Scotch words are to be found, with the 
music, in Playford's ' Choice Ayres and Songs,' 1683, also (without the music) in Ramsay's Tea-Table Miscellany, 
Herd's Collection, &c. What may be called the Anglified version (which we here give) first appeared in Johnson's 
Museum. Burns was mistaken in thinking that Ramsay was the author of this version — for Ramsay gives the 
original words with all their warmth and high colouring." 



' = 92 








The li - ly of the vale is sweet ; And sweet - er still the 






op - 'mug rose ; 

but sweet - er far 


Ma - ry is 





J^P— *-*—»- 

ny bloom - ing flow'r that blows. Whilst spring her fra - grant 











soms spreads, I'll 

wan - der 




ry's side, 





g^gpig^g ^^F 1 ^^ 


wliis - per saft the ten - der tale, By Forth, sweet Forth's me - and - 'ring tide. 

There will we walk at early dawn, 
Ere yet the sun begins to shine; 

At eve oft to the lawn we'll tread, 
And mark that splendid orb's decline. 

The fairest, choicest flow'rs I'll crop, 
To deck my lovely Mary's hair; 

And while I live, I vow and swear, 
She'll be my chief, my only care. 

" The lilt of the vale is sweet." The air was published in the fourth part of Gow's Repository, p 5, under the 
title of " Miss Forbes' Farewell : by Mr. Isaac Couper of Banff." It is there in common time of four crotchets. The 
words are by Allan Ramsay. The air is one of the " Original slow Scots Strathspeys and Dances," published by 
Gow. In Captain Simon Fraser's Collection of Highland airs, he has some remarks upon Strathspeys, which we here 
quote : — " Nos. 35 and 36. The Highlands of Banffshire, extending south of the Spey, have been long famous for the 
best dancers of the Strathspeys, which must have been well performed to inspire them sufficiently. In this district 
also lie the most picturesque scenery, the finest sporting-grounds and deer-forests, perhaps, in Great Britain, belong- 
ing to the Duke of Gordon, Earl of Fife, &c, long inaccessible to strangers from the badness of the roads and want of 
bridges." " No. 155. In passing through the district of Strathspey, the traveller may be apt to forget that among the 
long ranges of firwood and heath on each side, originated that sprightly style of performing and dancing the music 
which bears its name, now in universal request from the Spey to the Ganges. If the poets now take up the subject 
of some of the airs produced on its banks, it may become as renowned as a classic stream, as it is famous for giving 
birth to so much of our rational and captivating amusement." In a Note upon No. 3 of his Collection, Captain S. 
Fraser mentions Grant of Sheugly as a performer on the violin, bagpipe, and harp, and also a poet. " In appreciating 
the qualities of each instrument, he supposes they had quarrelled, and that he was called upon to decide the contest. 
In addressing a verse to his pipe, he observes, — ' how it would delight him, on hearing the sound of war, to listen to 
her notes in striking up the gathering, to rally round the chief, on a frosty spring morning, whilst the hard earth 
reverberated all her notes, so as to be heard by the most distant person interested.' To the harp he says, — 'the 
pleasure which thy tones afford are doubled whilst accompanying a sweet female voice ; or round the festive board, 
inspired by love or wine, I reach beyond my ordinary capacity, and feel the pleasure of pleasing.' But to his violin, 
which he calls by the literal name of the air, Mary George's daughter, and seems to have been his favourite, though 
held cheap by the other combatants, he says, — ' I love thee for the sake of those who do — the sprightly and bonny 
lasses— all of whom declare, that at wedding, dance, or ball, thou, with thy bass in attendance, canst have no com- 
petitor — thy music having the effect of electricity on those who listen to it.' And, on thus receiving their due share 
of praise, their reconciliation is convivially celebrated." 






• pB 








trick banks 

nier nicht, 




gloara - in' when the sheep gaed hame, I met my las - sie 





braw and tieht, While wand - 'ring through the mist her lane. 1 My 

-0 ■ f 



; i 

-fq TT 4 







lieart grew lieht, I want - ed lang To tell my las - sie a' my mind, And 






ne - ver till this hap - py hour, A can - nie 2 meet - ing could 1 find. 

Said I, my lassie, will ye gae 

To the Highland hills and be my bride? 
I'll bigg 3 thy bower beneath the brae, 

By sweet Loch Gary's silver tide. 
And aft as o'er the moorlands wide, 

Kind gloamin' comes our faulds to steek, 4 
I'll hasten down the green hill side, 

Where curls our cozy cottage reek. 

All day when we ha'e wrought eneuch, 

When winter frosts and snaws begin, 
Sune as the sun gaes west the loch, 

At nicht when ye sit down to spin, 
I'll screw my pipes, and play a spring, 

And thus the weary nicht we'll end, 
Till the tender kid and lamb-time bring 

Our pleasant simmer back again. 

Syne when the trees are in their bloom, 

And gowans glent 6 o'er ilka field, 
I'll meet my lass amang the broom, 

And lead her to my simmer shield ; 
There, far frae a' their scornfu' din, 

That make the kindly hearts their sport, 
We'll laugh, and kiss, and dance, and sing, 

And gar the langest day seem short ! 

2 Quiet ; favourable. 

a Build. 

4 Close ; shut up. 

5 Peep out : or Bhine. 

" On Ettrick Banks." Mr. Stenhouse's Note upon this song and air is as follows : — " This is another of those 
delightful old pastoral melodies which has been a favourite during many generations. It is inserted in the Orpheus 
Caledonius in 1725, with the same elegant stanzas that appear in the Museum, beginning, ' On Ettrick banks, ae 
summer's night.' Kamsay has left no key to discover the author of the song : it does not appear, however, to be his ; 
and indeed it is not claimed by his biographer as his composition. In the Museum, the fourth line of stanza first, in 
place of ' Came wading barefoot a' her lane,' was changed into ' While wand'ring through the mist her lane ;' but I 
do not consider it any improvement on the elegant simplicity of the original. . . . The Ettrick, of such poetical 
celebrity, is a river in Selkirkshire; it rises in the parish of the same name, and after a winding course of thirty 
miles in a north-east direction, during which it receives the Yarrow near Philiphaugh, falls into the Tweed three miles 
above Melrose." See Museum Illustrations, vol. i. pp. 85, 86. The version of the words here given is from J. M. 
Miiller's " Vocal Gems of Scotland." 










-¥■ — /= 

jL_j u *=fcrfc3S 

March, march, Et - trick and Te - viot - dale, Why, my lads, din - na ye march 

17 V V-f =P*- 




fS— s- 



for-ward in or - der ? March, march, EsU-dale and Lid-des - dale, All the b : ue bon-net3 are 


^=3U = * =r ^ = J=p==5=^-| 



o - ver the Bur - der. Ma - ny a ban - ner spread, flut - tere a - bove your head, 

fc . — • — f ' — *— i— Cm r— zl — P- 




Ma - ny a crest that is 

fa - mous in 

ry, Mount and irake rea - dy 


!£_• 9~Z __J 







sons of the moun - tain glen, Fight tor your Queen and the old Scot-tish glo - ry. 

Come from the hills were your hirsels are grazing. 
Come from the glen of the buck and the roe : 

Come to the crag where the beacon is blazing ; 
Come with the buckler, the lance, and the bow. 

Trumpets are sounding, war-steeds are bounding ; 

Stand to your arms, and march in good order ; 
England shall many a day tell of the bloody fray, 

When the blue bonnets came over the Border. 

" March, march, Ettrick and Teviotdale." These verses appeared for the first time in Sir Walter Scott's novel, 
" The Monastery," published in 1820. They were evidently modelled upon an old Cavalier song, beginning, " March ! 
march ! pinks of election," which we find in the first volume of James Hogg's "Jacobite Relics of Scotland," pp. 5-7. 
The air given by Hogg to these old verses is a bad set of " Lesley's March," not at all corresponding with the air in 
Oswald's Second Collection, p. 33, although Hogg erroneously says that it " is copied from Mr. Oswald's ancient 
Scottish music." In Niel Gow's Second Collection of Reels, p. 5, we find an altered version of " Lesley's March," under 
the name of " Duplin House ;" and from this the later versions of the air seem to have been taken with some changes. 
The version given by R. A. Smith to Sir Walter Scott's words is the one we have adopted as being the better known 
and more popular. Smith calls the air " Blue Bonnets," but it differs entirely from the air of that name, in common 
time, given by Oswald in his Second Collection, p. 5. We subjoin " Lesley's March" according to Oswald. 



?-^F— F 


g§ g=agEggsss 

$mm g&&mmg£& mm z&& 




; C9 






San - dy, why leaves thou thy Nel - iy to 


please me ; Now dow - ie ' 


on the banks 






lad - die, un 


til thou re - turn. 

Though woods now are gay, and mornings so clear, 

While lav'rocks are singing, 

And primroses springing ; 
Yet none of them pleases my eye or my ear, 
When thro' the wood, laddie, ye dinna appear. 

That I am forsaken, some sparena 2 to tell, 

I'm fash'd 3 wi' their scorning, 

Baith ev'ning and morning ; 
Their jeering gaes aft to my heart wi' a knell, 
When thro' the wood, laddie, I wander mysel'. 

Then stay, my dear Sandy, nae langer away, 

But quick as an arrow 

Haste here to thy marrow, 
Wha's living in languor till that happy day, 
When thro' the wood, laddie, we'll dance, sing, and play. 

' Sadly. 

2 Hesitate not. 


" Thro' tke Wood, Laddie." Mr. Stenhouse's Note is as follows : — "This fine old tune is inserted in the Orpheus 
Caledonius in 1725, adapted to a long ballad written by Ramsay, beginning ' As early I walk'd on the first of sweet 
May,' which is likewise printed in his Tea-Table Miscellany. In the Museum, the air is adapted to a song of two (?) 
stanzas, also written by Ramsay, beginning ' Sandy, why leaves thou thy Nelly to mourn V Dr. Blacklock com- 
municated to Mr. Johnson a copy of the original verses to the same air, which are printed in the Museum after those 
of Ramsay. It ought to be observed here, that this old melody consisted only of one strain, and it is so printed in 
Thomson's Orpheus Caledonius. The second strain, which is only a repetition of the first, an octave higher,- was 
added by Adam Craig in 1730 ; but it could only be intended for instrumental music. Few voices have a natural 
compass of more than twelve notes. When a tune exceeds this compass, the singer has recourse to the falsetto, which 
requires great skill and management to produce even a tolerable effect. It would be much better, therefore, to leave 
out the second strain altogether in singing this song, os the compass of the first is sufficiently extensive, and the tune 
quite long enough without any second part." See Museum Illustrations, vol. ii. pages 141, 142. We have omitted 
the second strain of the air, and have also simplified the last notes in the first and ninth measures, which, in all the 
versions we have seen, contain an affected instrumental flourish. 











The caold cauld win - ter's gane, luve, Sae bit - ter 


sae snell ;' And 

mm^m wmm 





spring has come a - gain, luve, To deck yon lee - some dell. The buds burst frae the tree, luve ; The 

poco rail. 

birds sing by the shaw ; z But sad sad is my dow - ie heart, For ye are far a - wa' 

I thoclit the time wad flee, luve, 

As in the days gane bye ; 
While I wad think on thee, luve, 

And a' my patience try ; 
But ! the weary hours, luve, 

They wadna flee ava, 
And they ha'e borne me nought but dule, 8 

Sin' 4 ye ha'e been awa\ 

Waes me! they're sair to bide, luve, 

The dirdums 6 ane maun dree, 8 
The feelings wunna hide, luve, 

Wi' saut tears in the e'e : 
And yet the ills o' life, luve, 

Compared wi' joys are sraa', — 
Sae will it be when ye return 

Nae mair to gang awa'. 

1 Shnrp ; piercing. 

2 A wood. 

s Grief. 

4 Since. 

6 Noisy vexations. 

" The cauld caold Winter's oane, Luve." With regard to the author of this song we have been favoured with 
the following information: — "The words are by Mr. William Train of Haddington, son of Mr. Joseph Train of Loch- 
Vale Cottage, Galloway — the friend and correspondent of Sir Walter Scott. Mr. W. Train was born at Newton Stew- 
art, in Galloway, on 9th August 1816. He studied for the law ; but, in 1838, became Cashier of the Southern Bank 
of Scotland in Dumfries — an establishment since merged in the Edinburgh and Glasgow Bank. He was, thereafter, 
for several years, an Inspector of an English Bank, and now holds the office of Government Surveyor of Stamps and 
Taxes for East-Lothian. Mr. Train compiled a Memoir of his father, which is prefixed to Mr. Train, senior's, History 
of the Isle of Man, and several of his poetical pieces have appeared in different works. The above verses were pub- 
lished in ' The Book of Scottish Song,' by Messrs. Blackie of Glasgow." 

About the middle of last century a clever and humorous song, beginning, " A friend o' mine came here yestreen," 
was composed to the air, " My wife has ta'en the gee," and appears in Herd's Collection, 1769, without any author's 
name. It appears again in Johnson's Museum, vol. v. p. 422, with the air communicated by Burns, and called " My 
wife has ta'en the gee," and which is evidently borrowed from an older air called '• The Miller," given, p. 82 of this 
work, to Burns's words, " Mary Morison." In Gow's Fifth Collection of Reels and Strathspeys, p. 32, we find an air 
called, " My wife has ta'en the gee," communicated to Gow by the late Alexander Gibson Hunter of Blackness, Writer 
to the Signet, Edinburgh. It is there said to be old, and may have been the air to which the words in Herd were 
originally sung. It does not resemble " The Miller," or the air sent by Burns to Johnson for the old words. The 
latter air is the one we have adopted in this work. 


Slowly and distinctly. 

$&$ m &^ fmm 


fe ^feEJEg 





• = 96 





g £fl5 




-4~ — g— *- 

Nan - cy, wilt thou go with me, f>or sigh to leave the 






■•— *- 




flaunt - ing town ? Can 


si - lent glens have charms for thee, The low - ly cot and 

,— • _ r- 



r r t?^ 


-u^ " t 


rua - set gown ? No long - er drest in silk - en sheen, No long - er deck'd with 

4. .— N -i . .,- . T^- 


F^ V w - r= \- \ u Jvv -Jt r d - \-*^- — fj — H- -<k— g-^ 


jew - els rare, 

Say, canst thou quit each court - ly scene, Where thou wert fair - est 


fESEjESB? 1lgg^pi5i 



fe^EgPp^ggg ^^^fg^. 

Say, canst thou quit each court - ly scene, Where 

thou wert fair - est 

of the fair? Where thou wert fair-est, Where 

ad lib. 

^j£ S^ ^^^^ 


wert fair - est, Where 


wert fair - est 

of the fair. 

Nancy ! when thou'rt far away, 

Wilt thou not cast a wish behind ? 
Say, canst thou face the scorching ray, 

Nor shrink before the wintry wind? 
can that soft and gentle mien 

Extremes of hardship learn to bear ; 
Nor, sad, regret each courtly scene, 

Where thou wert fairest of the fair ? 

Nancy ! canst thou love so true, 
Through perils keen with me to go ; 

Or when thy swain mishap shall rue, 
To share with him the pang of woe ? 

Say, should disease or pain befall, 
Wilt thou assume the nurse's care ; 

Nor, wistful, those gay scenes recall. 
Where thou wert fairest of the fair 1 

And when at last thy love shall die, 

Wilt thou receive his parting breath ; 
Wilt thou repress each struggling sigh, 

And cheer with smiles the bed of death ? 
And wilt thou o'er his breathless clay 

Strew flowers, and drop the tender tear ; 
Nor then regret those scenes so gay, 

Where thou wert fairest of the fair? 

" Nancy, wilt thou go with me ?" These words, by Thomas Percy, Bishop of Dromore, were set to music by 
Thomas Carter, an Irish musician, and sung at Vauxhall by Mr. Vernon, in 1773. We have inserted this very 
popular song for the purpose of proclaiming that it belongs to England, though a slightly Scotified version of it 
has been repeatedly published as a Scottish song. Those who prefer singing the latter, can easily make the altera- 
tions for themselves. 





A - gain re - joic - ing 

Na - ture sees Her robe as - sume ita 



f^=T=^ ^^ 



nal hues ; Her 


leaf - y locks wave 

the breeze, All 




ly steeped in 


morn - ing dews. 





N \'—* E 




cow - slips blaw ; In vain to me the vio - lets spring ; In 






vain to me, in 

glen or shaw, The ma - vis and the lint - white sing. 

The merry ploughboy cheers his team ; 

Wi' joy the tentie 1 seedman stauks ; 
But life to me's a weary dream, 

A dream of ane that never wauks. 

The shepherd stecks his faulding slaps, 2 
And o'er the moorland whistles shrill ; 

Wi' wild, unequal, wandering step, 
I meet him on the dewy hill. 

And when the lark, 'tween light and dark, 
Blythe waukens by the daisy's side, 

And mounts and sings on fluttering wings, 
A woe-worn ghaist, I hameward glide. 

The wanton coot the water skims ; 

Amang the reeds the ducklings cry; 
The stately swan majestic swims ; 

And everything is blest but I. 

Come, winter, with thine angry howl, 

And raging bend the naked tree; 
Thy gloom will soothe my cheerless soul, 
When Nature all is sad like me. 
1 Watchful ; attentive. - To shut the gates of the sheepfold. 

" Again rejoicing Nature sees." Allan Cunningham has the following Note on this song in his work called 
" The Songs of Scotland," &c, vol. iv. p. 32 : — " I have removed from this fine song the idle encumbrance of an 
adopted chorus ; it interrupted the flow of the narrative, and was at open war with the sentiment of each verse. The 
chorus was joyous and the song mournful. It is one of the earliest printed lyrics of Burns." Mr. George Thomson 
also omits the chorus in his Collection, as well as the fourth stanza. The latter omission is required, in order to 
have an even number of stanzas to the air. Mr. Stenhouse says :— " This old melody is inserted in a manuscript 
music-book, which, from an inscription, appears to have belonged to a 'Mrs. Crockat, in 1709,' now in the Editors 
possession. The old song began, — 

' I wish my love were in a myre, 
That I might pu' her out again.' 

The remainder of this ditty, I believe, is lost." See Museum Illustrations, vol. i. p. 41. In the Museum, the words 
given to this air are, first, Ambrose Philips' translation of Sappho's Ode, "Blest as the immortal gods is he;" and, 
second, anonymous verses from Ramsay's Tea-Table Miscellany, beginning, " lovely maid, how dear's thy power." 




= 50 






bon - nie was yon ro - sy brier, That blooms sae far frae 


— ■ ' K. 


S-U. ^ g — m 


haunt o' man, And bon - nie she, and oh! how dear! It shad- ed frae the ev'n-ingsun. 






Yon rose-buds in the morn-ing dew, How pure, a-mang the leaves sae green; but 


A— I— \— 






lor - er's vow 

All in its rude and prickly bow'r, 

That crimson rose, how sweet and fair ; 

But love is far a sweeter flow'r 
Amid life's thorny path o' care. 

They wit - ness'd in their shade yes-treen. 

The pathless wild, and wimpling burn, 
Wi' Chloris in my arms, be mine ; 

And I the warld nor wish nor scorn, 
Its joys and griefs alike resign. 

"0 bonnie was ton Rosy Briee." These words were written by Burns, and sent by him to his friend M.. 
Alexander Cunningham of Edinburgh, in a letter to Mr. George Thomson, in June or July 1795. In that letter 
Burns says : — " 1 inclose the sheet open, both for your inspection and that you may copy the song ' bonny was yon 
rosy brier.' I do not know whether I am right, but that song pleases me, and as it is extremely probable that 
Clarke's newly roused celestial spark will soon be smothered in the fogs of indulgence, if you like the song, it may go 
as Scottish verses to the air of ' I wish my love were in the mire ;' and poor Erskine's English lines may follow." Mr. 
George Thomson published the song in the third volume of his Collection, to the air of " The wee wee man." David 
Herd, in his Collection, 1769, first published the singular fragment of " The wee wee man." It appeared for the first 
time with the music in Johnson's Museum, No. 370. John Finlay, in his " Scottish Historical and Romantic ballads," 
1808, vol. ii. page 158, makes the following remark upon the air of " The wee wee man ! " — " It is proper to add, that 
the air to which the fragment is sung is very beautiful, and still popular. If this (and I see no reason or doubt) be 
contemporary with the original poem, it is perhaps the most ancient of our legendary tunes." 

We are not disposed to think the antiquity of this air much greater than that of the Irish " Garry Owen." Both 
seem to be of the same stock. Besides " The wee wee man," Mr. Finlay publishes a Northumbrian poem beginning 
'• Als y yod on ay Mounday," copied from the Cotton MS. in the British Museum, (Julius A. V. 9 ) and containing the 
original of the Scottish " Wee wee man." Mr. Ellis, in the introduction to his " Specimens of Early English Metrical 
Romances," has some interesting observations upon the priority of the northern to the southern English dialect. 
Alluding to Mr. Scott's publication of Thomas of Erceldoun's Sir Tristrem, Mr. Ellis says, " He has also shown by a 
reference to ancient charters, that the Scottish minstrels of this early period enjoyed all the privileges and distinctions 
possessed by the Norman trouveurs, whom they nearly rivalled in the arts of narration, and over whom they pos- 
sessed one manifest advantage in their familiar acquaintance with the usual scenes of chivalry :" . . . " Ettrick 
Forest, the Sylva Caledonia beloved by Merlin, whose remains are supposed to have been buried at Drummelziar, was 
included in the territories of Urien and Ywain. Galloway, according to Mr. Whitaker, was the patrimony of the 
celebrated Gawain. At Stowe, in the vale of the Gala, (the Wedale or vallis sanctus of Nennius,) a few miles above 
Melrose, was the church of St. Mary's, where Arthur, as the British historian assures us, deposited a piece of the 
true Cross ; and at Meigle in Angus, between Coupar and Forfar, tradition still points out the tomb of ' Dame 
Ganore,' the beautiful Guenever. The Scottish Minstrels, therefore, thus surrounded by the memorials of romance, 
and having easy access to the traditionary tales of Strathclyde and Cumbria, were likely to be considered as the 
most authentic depositaries of those narratives :"...." the early eminence of the Scottish minstrels is proved by 
the authority of Robert de Brunne, and by that of Wyntown's Chronicle. As a further confirmation of this opinion, 
it may be added, that while Erceldoun, Kendal, and Hucheon, poets of the North, are celebrated by our early his- 
torians ; while every ancient ballad bears testimony to the excellence of the minstrels from ' the North country ;' and 
while our MSS. abound with metrical romances written in the northern dialect, we do not possess one, anterior to the 
time of Chaucer, which can with certainty be ascribed to a poet of South Britain." 



' = 46 





AY WAKIN', 0! 





«-^— « 4- 

K-j wa - kin', O ! Wa - kin' ay, an' eer - ie ; Sleep I can - na get For 

„ rail. rail. T^ 

think - in' on my dearie. Ay wa-kin', O! Lane - ly night comes on, A' the lave ' are sleepin', I 

pj^ ^^gf^Pp^g g^^^^^ 

think on my bon -nie lad, An' bleer 2 my een wi' greet-in'. 3 Ay wa-kin,' O! Wa-kin' ay, and eer- ie. 


^ ^^^|3=?^ PJ 


Sleep T can - na get For think - in' on my dear - ie- 


wa - kin', O ! 

Ay wakin', ! 

Wakin' ay, an' eerie ; 
Sleep I canna get 

For thinkin' on my dearie. 
Ay wakin', ! 
Simmer's a pleasant time, 

Flowers of ev'ry colour ; 

The water rins o'er the heugh, 
And I long for my true lover. 

Ay wakin', ! 

Wakin' ay, an' eerie ; 

Sleep I canna get 

For thinkin' on my dearie. 
Ay wakin', ! 

1 The remainder 

2 Inflame. 

' Crying. 

" At wakin', !" Allan Cunningham, in his Songs of Scotland, vol. ii. p. 231, says of " Ay wakin', ! " — " This 
song is the work of several hands, and though some of it is very ancient, it has been so often touched and retouched, 
that it is not easy to show where the old ends or the new commences. Most of the chorus is certainly old, and part 
of the second verse." The words we have adopted are part of those given by Mr. Stenhouse, in vol. iii. pp. 206, 207 
of the Museum, as " all that is known to exist of the original verses." We give also the four lines added by Burns 
to the old words. They offer some variety to the singer, who must, however, repeat, before and after them, the four 
lines, " Ay wakin,' !" &c , in order to suit the music. Mr. Stenhouse gives also a version of what he calls " the 
ancient air," though he does not tell us where he found it, and, consequently, offers no proof of his assertion. He 
says : " In Mr. George Thomson's Collection of Scottish Songs, the air of ' Ay wakin', !' is enlarged so as to finish 
on the key note, and the time changed from triple to common. The time, however, is far better in its native wildness 
and simplicity : both Tytler and Ritson were of opinion that this air, from its intrinsic evidence, was one of our oldest, 
melodies, and I see no reason to differ from them." The form which the air has assumed within the last thirty years 
has now taken possession of the popular ear, and we shall not try to displace it. The latter part of the air must 
remind the reader of the conclusion of " Gala Water," p. 25 of this work. In May 1795, Burns wrote for Mr. George 
Thomson a song " On Chloris being ill," to the tune " Ay wakin', 0," beginning — " Long, long the night," and which 
appears in an altered form in Mr. G. Thomson's Collection. — The following is what Mr. Stenhouse gives as " the 
ancient air :" — 






r* — *~ 

}„£ $iju Jj/ficu irfjJttJt, Ai^vy fy&.frzffo,^ 

g /t, re/tveA^cn, ffl^ttf,,/ $&>*,, fan,} }4*p£rta. 1 A fa 

- j * / <?}*^]! 

2 3 J f . 6 fw* <$****. WLcJfa^fa^ 

jet. ^k^/cr^^rm^ 71 ^. 




: 80 







O why should old age so much wound us, O ? There is no- thing in't all to con- 








-V— t 


found us, O; For how hap-py now am I, With my auld wife sit-ting by, And our bairns and our 

oyes all a - round us, O. 

r m — « 1 — i — « — 

We be - gan in the world wi' nae - thing, O, And we've 



jogg'd on and toil'd for the ae thing, O ; We made use o' what we had, And our 





^E*E ZXZ0^ 

thank - fu' hearts were glad, When we 


We have lived all our lifetime contented, 0, 
Since the day we became first acquainted, ; 

It's true we've been but poor, 

And we are so to this hour, 
Yet we never pined nor lamented, O. 
We ne'er thought o' schemes to be wealthy, 0, 
By ways that were cunning or stealthy, ; 

But we always had the bliss — ■ 

And what farther could we wis3 ? — 
To be pleased wi' ourselves and be healthy, 0. 

What though we canna boast of our guineas, 0, 
We have plenty of Jockies and Jeanies, ; 

And these, I'm certain, are 

More desirable by far, 
Than a pock full of poor yellow steenies, 0. 
We have seen many a wonder and ferlie, 0, 
Of changes that almost are yearlie, 0, 

Among rich folks up and down, 

Both in country and in town, 
Who now live but scrimply and barely, 0. 

the bit meat and the claith - ing, O. 

Then why should people brag of prosperity, ? 
A straitened life, we see, is no rarity, ; 

Indeed, we've been in want, 

And our living been but scant, 
Yet we never were reduced to need charity, 0. 
In this house we first came together, 0, 
Whare we've long been a father and mother, 0; 

And though not of stone and lime, 

It will last us a' our time ; 
And I hope we shall never need another, 0. 

And when we leave this habitation, 0, 
We'll depart with a good commendation, ; 

We'll go hand in hand, I wiss, 

To a better house than this, 
To make room for the next generation, 0. 
Then why should old age so much wound ua, ? 
There is nothing in't all to confound us, ; 

For how happy now am I, 

With my auld wife sitting by, 
And our bairns and our oyes all around us, 0. 

" Dumbarton's Drums." In his " Scottish Songs," Mr. Robert Chambers has the following Note upon the song 
beginning " Dumbarton's drums beat bonnie, 0." " There is an idea very generally prevalent, that by ' Dumbarton's 
Drums' are meant the drums of the garrison of Dumbarton ; and Burns somewhere has the following absurd Note 
upon the subject : — ' Dumbarton Drums is the last of the West Highland airs ; and from Dumbarton, over the whole 
tract of country to the confines of Tweedside, there is hardly a tune or song that one can say has taken its origin from 
any place or transaction in that part of Scotland.' The truth is, that Dumbarton's Drums were the drums belonging 
to a British regiment, which took its name from the officer who first commanded it, to wit, the Earl of Dumbarton. 
This nobleman was a cadet of the family of Douglas, and being Commander of the Royal Forces in Scotland during the 
reigns of Charles the Second and James the Second, he bears a distinguished figure in the dark and blood-stained history 
of Scotland during that period. He suppressed the rebellion of Argyle in 1685. At the Revolution, he chose to accom- 
pany James the Second to France, where he died in 1692.- — The song appeared in the Tea-Table Miscellany, 1724." The 
song we give instead of that last mentioned, was written by the Rev. John Skinner, the author of " Tullochgorum," &c. 










What's a' the steer, 1 kim-mcr, 2 What's a' the steer? Char - lie he 



E ^&=kEZ 

land - ed, An' haith he'll soon be here ; 


was at his back, Carle, The 






was at his back, I care - na, sin' he's come, Carle, We were na' worth a plack. 3 

I'm right glad to hear't, kimmer, 
I'm right glad to hear't ; 

I ha'e a gude braid claymore, 
And for his sake I'll wear't. 

1 Disturbance ; commotion. 

Sin' Charlie he is landed, 
We ha'e nae mair to fear ; 

Sin' Charlie he is come, kimmer, 
We'll ha'e a jub'lee year. 

2 Neighbour ; Gossip. (Commtre— French.) 3 The third part of a penny sterling. 

" What's a' the steer, Klmmek?" The air seems to be a transformation of a strathspey, and the words were 
probably suggested by verses called " The Lusty Carlin," published in Cromek's " Remains of Nithsdale and Galloway 
Song," 1810, pp. 137, 138, and beginning, "What news to me, Carlin? What news to me? Enough o' news, quo 
the lusty Carlin, Best news that God can gi'e." These verses are given as expressing, roughly, the feelings of the 
peasantry of Scotland, on hearing of the extraordinary escape of Lord Maxwell of Nithsdale from the Tower of London, 
on 23d February 1715, "dressed in a woman's cloak and hood, which were for some time after called Nith.sdales." 
The veritable account of that escape is printed by Mr. Cromck, from a copy of the original MS. letter by the Countess 
of Nithsdale to her sister, dated 16th April 1718, from Rome, and in the possession of Constable Maxwell, Esq. of 
Terreagles, a descendant of the family of Nithsdale. Some verses of a similar tenor to those above alluded to are 
given by Allan Cunningham in the fourth volume of his edition of Burns's Works, London, 1834. Cunningham gives 
the word " Cummer" instead of " Carlin," which occurs in the verses quoted by Cromek. The words and the nfusic 
here given are reprinted on account of the popularity which they obtained about the year 1825, by the public singing 
of Miss Stephens, afterwards Countess of Essex. Miss Stephens gave a long lease of popularity to this song, as well 
as to " We're a' nid noddin'," and other songs, all of which are still popular. Miss Stephens was one of the most 
admired of modern English singers. A notice of her, published in Loudon in 1824, informs us that she was born in 
London, and received her first instructions in singing from Lanza, under whose tuition she remained for a considerable 
time. Lanza's slow and sure Italian method formed her power of voice and her intonation. While still under Lanza, 
she was brought out as a singer at the Pantheon. It appears that her father, getting impatient of the slowness of 
Lanza's process of tuition, put her under Mr. Thomas Welsh, who used all means to bring her rapidly forward with 
eclat before the public ; and that she made her debut at Covent Garden Theatre " with brilliant approbation," as the 
critics then expressed themselves. The quality of her voice was said to be then (1824) more rich and full than that 
of any other public English singer. " The peculiar bent of her talent seems to be towards ballads and songs of 
simple declamation ; in a word, towards that particular style which is generally esteemed to be purely English, 
though the formation of the voice may have been conducted upon the principles of Italian teaching." The writer adds 
that "there are no other" than the Italian principles of voice training. We must observe that the departure from 
these old principles, and the rapid forcing system generally produced in England, and now in Italy, are the very 
causes of our having so few good singers. Too often vox et praiterea nihil! Voices totally untrained and untaught. 
The late ingenious Doctor W. Kitchener, in his " Observations on Vocal Music," 1821, pp. 53, 54, speaks as follows of 
Ballad Music, and of Miss Stephens : — " The chef-d'oiuvre of difficulty is a plain English Ballad, which is, ' when 
unadorned, adorned the most,' and, indeed, will hardly admit of any ornament beyond an Appoggialara. This style 
of song is less understood than any (other?) ; and though apparently from its simplicity it is very easy, yet to warble 
a Ballad with graceful expression, requires as much real judgment and attentive consideration of every note and every 
syllable, as it does to execute the most intricate Bravura — the former is an appeal to the heart — the latter merely 
plays about the ear, and seldom excites any sensation beyond. Who would not rather hear Miss Stephens sing an 
old Ballad than any Bravura ? — although her beautiful voice is equally calculated to give every effect to the most 
florid song " Miss Stephens became Countess of Essex 19th April 1838.* To the honour of art, she is not the only 
female performer who has been raised by her own merits to the rank of nobility in Great Britain. 
* George Capel Coningsby, fifth and late Earl of Essex, born 13th November 1757, died without issue 23d April 1639.— See lodgc'sfeerage, 1844. 



• = 92 









Row weel, my boat-ie, row wcel, Row wee], my mer-ry men 

< — *-=— • — •— 

-t3 " •—*- 




For there's dool and there's wae in Glen - fio - rich's Low'rs, And there's grief in my la - ther's 


- — # — ■ — 




And the skiff it danced light on the mer - ry wee waves, And it 



— f — 








* [2= 

— /— 


J* * d f 

— • ■ — 

** • 

flew o'er the wa - ter sae 


And the wind it blew light, and the 

fe ^= ^= ^j fe»g=M =E=^ 


moon it shone bright, But the boat - ie ne'er reach'd Al - Ian 


a 1 — wit. 


hon ! for fair El-len, o - hon ! O 



hon ! for the pride of Strath - coe ! 
N PP espressivo. 

In the 







deep, deep sea, In the salt, salt bree, Lord Re - och, thy El - len lies low. 

" Kow weel, my Boatie, kow weel." This song was first published under the name of " Ellen Boideachd," 
(Beautiful Ellen,) by John M'Fadyen, Musicseller, 15, Wilson Street, Glasgow. The words were written by Walter 
Weir, house-painter, an intelligent man and a learned Gaelic scholar. The subject of the words is taken from an 
old Gaelic story which the author got from his mother. The air was composed by R. A. Smith. 

The title of this song reminds us of " weel may the boatie row," No. 425 in Johnson's Museum. In the former 
editions of "The Songs of Scotland," by Messrs. Wood, there was not room for a Note on the air to that song. 
We may now mention a fact not adverted to by Mr. Stenhouse in his Notes, viz. : that the German violoncellist and 
composer J. G. C. Schetky, about sixty years ago, published "The Keel Row" as a German air with variations. 
This was published on three pages of a sheet, by N. and M. Stewart, Parliament Square, and No. 40, South Bridge, 
Edinburgh. We subjoin the air as given by Schetky. It differs entirely in the second strain from Johnson's air. 





p^g^ ^ gSy E fegsfeqE^^ai 

We have been assured that the air " Caller herrin'," published in Gow's Collection, was composed by a German, the 
band-master of a regiment in Edinburgh Castle, upwards of fifty years ago. The air— an Italian one — to the song 
'• Home ! sweet home !" published as English, is another instance of false claims to airs that are popular. 














Ro - man 

tic E&k ! what sweets com ■ bine 



ilk bank an' 





^# — —0 — j. 



thine ! For 

the sun, wi' 



f^m^m m. 








braes : Whare mo - nie 







-•— *- 

wild flow - er's seen 'Mang birks, an' briers, an' i 

vy green, 






-^ — *—j— 

a' the wood - land chor - ists sing, Or glee - some flit on wan - ton wing. 

Save where the Untie, mournfully, 
Sabs sair aneath the rowan-tree, 
To see her nest, an' young anes a', 
By thoughtless riever 1 borne awa\ 
Return, return the mourner's care. 
An' ease the bosom o' despair, 
Nor deed your little heart in steel, 
For Nature bad' the Untie feel. 

How fresh and fair, o' varied hue. 
Ilk tufted haunt o' sweet Buccleugh ! 
What bliss ilk 2 green retreat to hail, 
Where Melville Castle cheers the vale ; 

An' Mavisbank, sae rural gay, 

Looks bonnie down the woodland brae ; 

But doubly fair ilk darling scene 

That screens the bowers o' Hawthorndean. 

Now tent 3 the Pentlands, westlins seen, 
O'erspread wi' flowery pastures green ; 
Where, stretching wide, the fleecy ewes 
Rin bleating round the sunny knowes ; 4 
An' mony a little siller rill 
Steals gurgling down its mossy hill ; 
An' vernal green is ilka tree 
On bonnie braes o' Woodhouselee. 

1 Robber. 

2 Each. 

3 Observe. 

* Little hills. 

•' Romantic Esk !" The words of this song were written by Richard Gall, of whom we gave a brief account, page 
139 of this work. Mr. Stenhouse has the following remarks on the air, Museum Illustrations, vol. i. p. 15 : — " Fy, 
gar rub her o'er wi' strae. This air is very ancient, but the precise era of its composition is unknown ; but it is at 
least as old as the reign of Queen Mary, as it is inserted in a MS. music- book written in the old notation or tablature 
for the lute, about the beginning of the reign of her son and successor James VI. This fine old tune had remained 
very long a favourite in Eugland ; for, about the beginning of last century, it was adapted to an English song, begin- 
ning, 'How can they taste of joys or grief Who beauty's powers did never prove.'' Mr. Gay also selected it as a melody 
for one of his songs in his ' Musical Opera of Achilles,' beginning, ' Think what anguish,' which was performed at 
Covent Garden in 1733, after the author's decease. This song was sung by Miss Norsa, in the character of Deidamia." 
Thomson published this tune to Ramsay's verses in his Orpheus Caledonius in 1725 ; and Watts reprinted both in his 
" Musical Miscellany, vol. v., London, 1731." It is a pity that Mr. Stenhouse did not state what MS. in Tablature he 
alluded to. If he meant the Skene MS. there is no such air in it. The same remark will apply to the Straloch MS., 
of the existence of which, however, we doubt whether Mr Stenhouse was aware. These are the only Scottish MSS. 
in Tablature extant of the date referred to. Mr. Stenhouse might have observed that the second strain of the air, as 
given by Watt, vol. v. pp. 76, 77, is not exactly the same as in Johnson. We have taken Johnson's version as the 
better of the two, and the more generally received. 



' = 100 





AIR, " GU MA SLAN A Cm Ml." 



4- s s -f^ 



Blythesome may I see thee, and mild as morn of May, And blooming fresh as 




ses full - blown at break of day ; And when thou stray - est gai 


ly o'er 


meads and hil - locks green, May love and joy at - tend thee, O fair - est ru - ral queen ! 

When first I saw thee, lovely as lily of the vale, 
And heard thy mellow warblings commingling with the gale, 
I thought of seraphs hymning, in bowers of bliss above, 
Their hallow'd strains harmonious of purest heavenly love. 

'Twas then I first felt rapture, true love, and chaste desire, 
Those tenderest sensations that wishes pure inspire : 
'Twas then I fondly fancied, that such a form divine 
Would yield all earthly joyance, were such an angel mine. 

Full blythe then may I see thee, for aye, my winsome maid, 
In every grace and virtue thy mind and frame array'd ; 
Thy guileless spirit playful, as innocently gay, 
Be sprightly as the spring-time, and blooming fair as May. 

" Blttdesomb may I see thek." This song, written by the late Alexander Campbell, and set to the Highland air, 
" Ou ma slan a chi mi," was published in the first volume of his Albyn's Anthology, in 1816. He there gives also a 
Gaelic song to the air, with a prose translation. The Gaelic song he names Oran Gaoil. In vol. iii. of Johnson's 
Museum, p. 282, we find another " Oran Gaoil," a Gaelic song translated by a lady, set to " an original Highland 
melody," in triple time, f , and entirely different from the air given by Mr. Campbell. Mr. Stenhouse, in his Note 
upon the song and air in Johnson, says, " The editor has never seen the original Gaelic song ; but he has no reason 
to doubt that there may be such a one, and that the English version is correct enough. It may be remarked, how- 
ever, that almost every Highland family of rank and fortune have long been in the habit of sending their children to 
the low country for their education, in which music has always been one of the principal ornamental branches. There 
cannot be a doubt, therefore, that the airs peculiar to Tweedside, Ettrick, Leader, Yarrow, Gala, &c, have been long 
as familiar to the Highlanders as to the inhabitants of those Lowland pastoral districts where they had their origin. 
Many of them, too, it is believed, have had the honour of being set to Gaelic verses. That the tune in question, how- 
ever, is either of Irish or Gaelic extraction, seems to be very doubtful ; for the editor has in his possession a very old 
manuscript, in square notes, in which this identical tune, or at least one very similar to it, is inserted under the 
name of 'Y e Auld Jew,' of which a copy is subjoined." 

The Auld Jew. 

=#*^=T '~Tf^=^f^~rTt-^n'r . ^f^M^m-n 

4t-±-r — f — I — i — ' ! — ! — ' — 1 — l — F ! — L — ' — I — - 1 — 

#-t— i : — r-i — ~-^-^-T- z f z =v z ~-f^=^~-^^ — '-^t-- 

i)i 1 1 — LJJ — L_pj_ 1 _U — j__J LL_| Lsl_*_J 



f' = 52 






Here's to the year that's a - wa' ! We'll drink it in strong ar.d in 






sma ; 

And here's to ilk bon - nie young las - sie we lo'ed, While 




swift flew the year that's a 

And here's to ilk bon - nie young 





las - sie we 

lo'ed, N\ hile swift flew the year that's a 

Here's to the sodger who bled, 

And the sailor who bravely did fa' ; 
Their fame is alive, though their spirits are fled 

On the wings of the year that's ana'. 
Their fame is alive, &c. 

Here's to the friends we can trust, 

When the storms of adversity blaw, 
May they live in our song, and be nearest our hearts, 

Nor depart like the year that's awa'. 
May they live, &o. 

" The Year that's awa." This song was written by " Mr. Dunlop, late Collector at the Custom-House of Port- 
Glasgow, and father of Mr. Dunlop, author of 'The History of Fiction.'" So says Mr. Robert Chambers in his 
Scottish Songs, vol. ii. p. 437. We republish the words given by Mr. Chambers, seeing that in two or three editions 
of them set to music, several of the lines have been altered. A misprint of " friend" for " friends," in the first line of 
the last stanza, is here corrected. The history of the air, so far as we can learn, is as follows : — " Mr. Robert 
Donaldson, printer in Greenock, now in Glasgow, having been reading Dunlop's poems, thought the song so good as 
to be worthy of an air ; and calling upon Mr. W. H. Moore, then organist there, (now in Glasgow,) hummed over to 
him what he considered might be a melody suited for it. This Mr. Moore remodelled considerably, and published, 
probably about the year 1820. It was afterwards taken up by some of the public singers, and became very popular. 
Indeed it is still sung about New-year time." 

There is another version of the air, which we subjoin on account of its being of less extensive compass than the 









= co 



— ^^^™ 1 c - 


3 — N-E 




Law - land lads think they are fine, But O, they're vain and 



id - ly gau - dy ; How much un - like the grace - fu' mein And man - ly looks of my 






High - land lad - die ! 



O my hon - nie High -land lad - die, My hand • some, charm -ing 

-»-J J^FF ^^ FFfFf^ ^i 

±M =zm 




High-land laddie ! May heaven still guard, and love re-ward, Our Law-land lass and her High-land lad-die ! 

If I were free at will to choose 
To be the wealthiest Lawland lady, 

I'd tak' young Donald without trews, 
With bonnet blue, and belted plaidie. 
my bonnie, &c. 

The brawest 1 beau in burrows town, 
In a' his airs, wi' art made ready, 

Compared to him, he's but a clown, 
He's finer far in tartan plaidie. 
my bonnie, &c. 

O'er benty 2 hill wi' him I'll run, 
And leave my Lawland kin and daddie ; 

Frae winter's cauld and summer's sun, 
He'll screen me wi' his Highland plaidie. 
my bonnie, &c. 

Few compliments between us pass ; 

I ca' him my dear Highland laddie, 
And he ca's me his Lawland lass, 

Syne a rows me in beneath his plaidie. 
my bonnie, &c. 

Nae greater joy I'll e'er pretend, 
Than that his love prove true and steady, 

Like mine to him, which ne'er shall end, 
While heaven preserves my Highland laddie. 
my bonnie, &c. 

1 Gayest. 

: A hill covered with coarse grass. 

B Afterwards. 

" The Lawland Lads think they are pine." This melody, called " The New Highland Laddie," was composed by 
the celebrated English composer, Mich. Arne, to an English version of Ramsay's Highland Lassie. The words and 
music appeared in the Ifuses' Delight, p. 66, Liverpool, 1754. The " Old Highland Laddie" is quite a different air, 
which consisted originally of one strain, and was so published, with Ramsay's verses, in the Orpheus Caledonius in 
1725. It is supposed to be very old, as it appears (according to Mr. Stenhouse) in a MS. collection of airs in 1687. 
We subjoin it. We omit the fifth stanza of Ramsay's verses, for sufficient reasons. William Napier, in his first Col- 
lection, 1790, also omits that stanza. 



PS=Sj ^ 









P m 









E "rN 




Come all ye jol - ly shep- herds That whis-tle through the glen, I'll 

4 F =£= hx=+=^^ = j S f^EMz=*=*==^ E£5E^g5==^5 

tell ye of a se - cret That court-iers din - na ken. What is the greatest bliss That the 




tongue of man can name? Tis to woo a bon-nie las-sie When the kye comes Lame. When the 






~* *L 



;ye comes hame, When the kye comes hame, 'Tweenthe gloam-in' and the mirk, When the kye comes hame. 

'Tis not beneath the burgonet, 1 

Nor yet beneath the crowD, 
'Tis not on couch of velvet, 

Nor yet on bed of down : 
'Tis beneath the spreading birch, 

In the dell without a name, 
Wi' a bonnie, bonnie lassie, 

When the kye comes hame. 
There the blackbird bigs 2 his nest 

For the mate he loves to see, 
And up upon the tapmost bough, 

Oh, a happy bird is he ! 
Then he pours his melting ditty, 

And love 'tis a' the theme, 
And he'll woo his bonnie lassie 

When the kye comes hame. 
When the bluart 3 bears a pearl, 

And the daisy turns a pea, 
And the bonnie lucken gowan 

Has fauldit up his e'e, 
Then the laverock frae the blue lift 

Draps down, and thinks nae shame 
To woo his bonnie lassie 

When the kye comes hame. 
1 A k : nd of helmet. 2 Builds. 

Then the eye shines sae bright, 

The haill soul to beguile, 
There's love in every whisper, 

And joy in every smile ; 
0, who would choose a crown, 

Wi' its perils and its fame, 
And miss a bonnie lassie 

When the kye comes hame? 
See yonder pawky 4 shepherd 

That lingers on the hill — 
His yowes are in the fauld, 

And his lambs are lying still ; 
Yet he downa gang to rest, 

For his heart is in a flame 
To meet his bonnie lassie 

When the kye comes hame. 
Awa' wi' fame and fortune — 

What comfort can they gi'e ? — 
And a' the arts that prey 

On man's life and libertie ! 
Gi'e me the highest joy 

That the heart o' man can frame ; 
My bonnie, bonnie lassie, 

When the kye comes hame. 

3 The bilberry. 

i Sly, artfuL 

" When tue kve comes hame." In " Songs by the Ettrick Shepherd, now first collected, Blackwood, Edinburgh, 
1831," James Hogg himself writes the following notes upon this song : — " In the title and chorus of this favourite 
pastoral song, I choose rather to violate a rule in grammar, than a Scottish phrase so common, that when it is altered 
into the proper way, every shepherd and shepherd's sweetheart account it nonsense. I was once singing it at a 
wedding with great glee the latter way, (' when the kye come hame,') when a tailor, scratching his head, said, ' It 
was a terrible affectit way that !' I stood corrected, and have never sung it so again. It is to the old tune of ' Shame 
fa' the gear and the blathrie o't,' with an additional chorus. It is set to music in the Noctes, at which it was first 

sung, and in no other place that I am aware of." "I composed the foregoing song I neither know how nor 

when ; for when the ' Three Perils of Man' came first to my hand, and I saw this song put into the mouth of a drunken 
poet, and mangled in the singing, I had no recollection of it whatever. I had written it off-hand along with the prose, 
and quite forgot it. But I liked it, altered it, and it has been my favourite pastoral for singing ever since. It is too 
long to be sung from beginning to end ; but only the second and antepenult verses [stanzas] can possibly be dispensed 
with, and these not very well neither." As we do not think that Hogg improved his song by altering it, we adopt 
the earlier version. The air to which Hogg adapted his words is not a true version of " The Blathrie o't," but one 
considerably altered. 



' = 68 



NTE /P" (> 

-0. |^± 







my heart 






each strug 

gling sigh ; 

And there's 

e'er shall know 





soul's cher - ish'd wo, When the 

They bid me cease to weep, 
For glory gilds his name ; 

Ah ! 'tis therefore I mourn — 

He ne'er can return 
To enjoy the bright noon of his fame. 

While minstrels wake the lay 
For peace and freedom won, 




row are 


Like my lost lover's knell 

The tones seem to swell, 
And I hear but his death-dirge alone. 
My cheek has lost its hue, 
My eye grows faint and dim, 

But 'tis sweeter to fade 

In grief's gloomy shade, 
Than to bloom for another than him. 

" I'll bid my ueakt be still." This song was written by the late Mr. Thomas Pringle, author of " African 
Sketches," &c, who died in 1834. It was published with a Border air in the first volume of Albyn's Anthology, 1 816. 
Sir. A. Campbell's note upon the air is as follows : — " This sweetly rural and plaintive air, like many others of the 
more ancient Border Melodies, has but one part, or rather one measure (strain). It was taken down by the editor, 
from the singing of Mr. Hogg, (the Ettrick Shepherd,) and his friend Mr. Pringle, author of the pathetic verses to 
which it is united. While this sheet was in its progress through the press, the young gentleman last mentioned 
received from his sister, Miss M. Pringle, Jedburgh, three stanzas of the original Border ditty, which was chanted to 
the melody here alluded to ; and they are here subjoined, as a curious specimen of that quaint play on words which 
was so much in fashion during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. It is to the obliging zeal of this young lady for 
promoting the present work that the editor is indebted for the admirable melody to which Mr. Walter Scott has 
written ' Jock o' Hazeldean,' and likewise the fine original air to which her brother wrote ' The Banks o' Cayle ' " — 
Albyn's Anthology, vol. i. p. 41. The following are the stanzas above alluded to : — 

once my thyme was young, But the pride o' my garden is withered away, 

It flourish'd night and day ; And it's a' grown o'er wi' rue. 

But by there cam' a false young man, Farewell, ye fading flowers, 

And he stole my thyme away. And farewell, bonnie Jean ; 

Within my garden gay But the flower that is now trodden under foot 

The rose and lily grew ; In time it may bloom again. 

In Mr. Chappell's Collection of Ancient English Melodies, No. 95, "The Willow Tree" is an air that resembles this 
Border melody so much, as to make us believe that one is only a modification of the other. 

The Willow Tkee. 






Mr. Chappell says : — " This is one of the common ballad tunes, still sung about the counties of Derbyshire, Warwick- 
shire, and Lancashire," &c. He asks if No. 106 of his collection (an air in § time) is the original of this tune. No. 95? 
The following is that No. 106, called, " Come open the door, sweet Betty." 


















rose - bud by 




pp ^pi 

ear - )y walk, 

down a corn in 

gF=^ g 








ly bent 






-r«- — • 

J^^B= tz 

-J — k 




twice the shades 




p — • 

-*—^ — • — rJ 



dawn are fled, In 

its cnm - son 


*i / 



glo - ry spread, And 



droop - ing rich the dew - }• head, It scents the ear - ly morn - ing. 

Within the bush, her covert nest, 
A little linnet fondly prest, 
The dew sat chilly on her breast 

Sae early in the morning. 
She soon shall see her tender brood, 
The pride, the pleasure o' the wood, 
Amang the fresh green leaves bedew'd, 

Awake the early morning. 

So thou, dear bird, young Jeanie fair ! 
On trembling string, or vocal air, 
Shall sweetly pay the tender care 

That tends thy early morning. 
So thou, sweet rose-bud, young and gay, 
Shalt beauteous blaze upon the day, 
And bless the parent's evening ray 

That watch'd thy early morning. 

' A strip of land left unpluuglied. 

" A Rose-bdd by my early walk." The subject of this song was Miss Cruickshanks, daughter of William Cruiek- 
shanks, one of the masters of the High School, in whose house Burns resided for some time during his visit to Edin- 
burgh in 1787. In Johnson's Museum, No. 189, the words are published with an air composed by Mr. David Sillar, 
formerly merchant, and afterwards schoolmaster, at Irvine. Burns says, (in Eeliques,) " He is the Davie to whom I 
address my printed poetical epistle in the measure of ' The Cherry and the Slae.'" Sillar's air has no merit except 
what it derives from the tune of " Johnnie Cope." We have adopted, for Burns's song, an air called " The Shepherd's 
wife," and which has appeared in several collections. It seems to have been suggested by the air of the same name, 
No. 362 of Johnson's Museum. We subjoin that air. 













: 69 





=£%43— J— ^= =J5 mt^_ev 

•»-» — i i -» — ^ — ■=- 

Fair Scot - land ! dear as 

life to me Are thy ma - jes - lie 



igErSE3 ^|EJ3^| 

hills ; And sweet as pu - rest 

lo - dy, The mu - sic of thy rills. 

The wild - est cairn, the 

dark - est dell, With 



strand, Pos - sess o'er me a 

liv - ing spell ; Thou art my na - tive land ! 

And thou hast ties around my heart — 

Attraction deeper still ; 
The gifted Poet's sacred art, 

The Minstrel's matchless skill : 
Yea, every scene that Burns and Scott 

Have touched with magic hand, 
Is in my sight a hallowed spot, 

Mine own distinguished land ! 

Loved country ! when I muse upon 

Thy dauntless men of old, 
Whose swords in battle foremost shone 

Beside thy Wallace bold, 
And Bruce, who for our liberty 

Did England's sway withstand — 
I glory I was born in thee, 

My own ennobled land ! 

" Fair Scotland ! dear as life to me." " The air of ' Pinkie House ' was anciently called ' Rothes' Lament.' Of 
this old song, the melody and title are all that remain. It was printed in the Orpheus Caledonius in 1725, adapted 
to a ballad, one of the earliest compositions of Mr. David Mallet, beginning, ' As Sylvia in a forest lay.' " See Museum 
Illustrations, vol. i. p. 58. In the fifth volume of Watts' Musical Miscellany, pp. 174, 175, we find, " Tune, Pinkie 
House, by David Rizzio. The words by Mr. Mitchell." We have already, in the course of this Work, exposed the 
error and absurdity, as well as the wilful deception, of ascribing any of our Scottish melodies to David Rizzio. The 
version of the air as given in Watts differs slightly from the current modern versions in the 4th, 8th, 12th, and 15th 
measures, as shewn below. 









The words to the air in Watts are sad stuff, beginning — " As love-sick Corydon beside a murm'ring riv'let lay," and 
proclaiming the griefs of Corydon and the cruelty of Cosmelia in strains pretty much on a level with Mitchell's other 
words to the same air — " By Pinkie House oft let me walk." We have chosen for the air three stanzas of an excel- 
lent song, written by Mr. Robert White, and published entire in Blackie's Book of Scottish Song, p. 90, with the fol- 
lowing note : — " This beautiful national lyric is the production of Robert White of Newcastle-upon-Tyne, and is here 
printed for the first time. Mr. White, though long resident in England, is a native of Scotland ; and the verses were 
suggested by an inquiry made by Mr. Patrick Maxwell, the editor of Miss Blamire's poems, as to whether or not he 
was a Scotsman. To Mr. Maxwell, therefore, the public is indebted as the cause of so fine a piece being produced ; 
and we, in particular, have to express our obligations to him for his kindness in forwarding it to ' The Book of Scottish 
Song,' as well as another beautiful poem by the same author, called ' The Mountaineer's Death,' which will be found 
in another part of the work." The three stanzas are here published by Mr. White's express permission. 



P = ( 








f 4 4 



« — * 


^ : 

Peg - gie, now the king's come, Peg - gie, now the king's come, 




may dance, and I shall sing, Peg - gie, since the king's come. 


-» — # 











mair the haw - kies ' shalt thou milk, But change thy plai - den coat for silk, And 



be a la - dy of that ilk, 2 Now, Peg - gie, since the king's come. 

1 Cows. 2 " Of that ilk, of the same; denoting that he who is thus designed has a title the same with his surname." — Jamiesos. 

" Peggie, now the King's come." Air, " Carle, an the king come." Mr. Stenhouse's Note is as follows : — " There 
are two songs to this old air in the Museum, the first, beginning, ' Peggy, now the king's come,' was written by 
Kamsay for Mause, one of the characters in his Gentle Shepherd. The second song, beginning, ' Carle, an the king 
come,' is partly old and partly modern, the second stanza being written by Burns. The remainder of the verses are 
said to have been composed during the usurpation of Cromwell. A more complete but modernized copy of the song, 
however, may be seen in Hogg's Jacobite Relics, vol. i." See Museum Illustrations, vol. iii. pp. 24, 25. The air of 
" O'er the moor amang the heather," seems to us only a modification of " Carle, an the king come." The picture in 
verse given by Ramsay, Act II. Scene 3 of " The Gentle Shepherd," introductory to Mause's song, is pleasingly 
rustic : — 

" A green kail-yard, a little fount, 
Where water poplan springs ; 
There sits a wife with wrinkled front, 
And yet she spins and sings." 

It appears that after Ramsay had written his Gentle Shepherd without songs, he was induced, by the example and 

the success of Gay's " Beggar's Opera," to add songs and music to his own pastoral drama, but without the effect 

that he expected. There being only one stanza of Mause's song, we subjoin the " old words" as given in Johnson's 

Museum : — 

Carle, an the king come, I trow we swapped for the warse, 

Carle, an the king come, We ga'e the boot an' better horse ; 

Thou shalt dance, and I will sing, And that we'll tell them at the cross, 

Carle, an the king come. Carle, an the king come. 

Carle, an the king come, &c. 

An somebodie were come again, „ . ., , . _ 

6 . ' . Coggie, an the king come, 

Then somebodie maun cross the main, n • n. i • „ 

,„,,',. . Coggie, an the king come, 

- And every man shall ha e his am, T , . „ . ., , • . 

■ , ' I se be fou, and thou se be toom, 

Carle, an the king come. c ^ an fte ^ CQme 

Carle, an the king come, &o. Coggie! an ^ king com6) &0 _ 

When George IV. visited Scotland in 1822, Sir Walter Scott wrote a humorous poem, commencing, " Carle, now 
the king's come," in the same measure as the present song. The allusions being local and only of temporary interest, 
we refer to his Poetical Works for it. See vol. i. p. 695, edit. 1847. 




: 76 






'Twas na her bon - nie blue e'e was my ru - in ; 

^^^^ ^mm 



Fair though 


be, that was ne'er my un 


do - in' 


'Twas the dear smile when nae bo - dy 


mind us. 





-> — i— -j 






witch - ing, sweet, stown glance o' 

kind - ness. 

Sair do I fear that to hope is denied me, 
Sair do I fear that despair maun abide me ; 
But though fell fortune should fate us to sever, 
Queen shall she be in my bosom for ever. 

Mary, I'm thine wi' a passion sincerest, 
And thou hast plighted me love o' the dearest ! 
And thou'rt the angel that never can alter ; 
Sooner the sun in his motion shall falter. 

" 'Twas na her bonnie blue e'e." This song was written by Burns in 1795 for Mr. George Thomson's Collection, 
to the air of " Laddie, lie near me." Burns, in a letter to Mr. Thomson, dated September 1793, acknowledges receipt 
of a list of twenty songs for Mr. Thomson's Collection ; and, with regard to " Laddie, lie near me," says : — " ' Laddie, 
lie near me' must lie by me for some time. I do not know the air ; and until I am complete master of a tune in my 
own singing, (such as it is,) I can never compose for it." The remainder of the passage we have already quoted in 
the note upon " Ca' the yowes to the knowes," p. 47 of this work. The air of " Laddie, lie near me" is old. In a 
note on " What's a' the steer, kimmer ?" page 190, we had occasion to mention the merits of Miss Stephens as a 
singer. We then quoted from the late Dr. Kitchener's Observations on Vocal Music, and we now extract another 
interesting passage from the same little work. 

" I hope that this essay will be useful at least in calling the attention of the composers and performers of vocal 
music to that consideration of the importance of the proper accent and emphasis of the words, which has been the 
foundation of the fame of all our very great composers and singers ; and those who think that the proper pronuncia- 
tion and expression of the poetry is the chef d'ceuvre of singing, will judge with candour the observations which are 
now submitted to them by an amateur, whose zeal for the application of song to the noblest purposes has excited him 
to write down his sentiments on the subject. — When the incomparable Madame Mara took leave of me on her return 
to the Continent, I could not help expressing my regret that she had not taken my advice to publish those songs of 
Handel, (her matchless performance of which gained her that undisputed pre-eminence which she enjoyed,) with the 
embellishments, &c, with which she enriched them. This inimitable singer replied — ' Indeed, my good friend, you 
attribute my success to a very different source than the real one — it was not what I did, but the manner in which I 
did it. I would sing six simple notes, and produce every effect I could wish — another singer may sing those very 
same notes with very different effect. I am sure it was to my expression of the words that I owe everything. People 
have often said to me — Madame Mara, why do you not introduce more pretty things, and passages, and graces, into 
your songs ? I said, these pretty things, &c, are all very pretty, to be sure, but the proper expression of the words 
and the music is a great deal better.' This, and her extraordinary industry, were the secrets of her undisputed supe- 
riority. Her perseverance in her endeavours to please the public was indefatigable. She told me that when she was 
encored in a song — which she very often was— on her return home she seldom retired to rest without first inventing 
a new cadence for the next performance of it. Here is an example for young singers !" — Observations, &c. pp. 14-16. 
At Bologna, in 1819, the Editor was well acquainted with the late Cavaliere Girolamo Crescentini, then advanced in 
years, but at one time the greatest singer in Europe. When at the height of his celebrity, he was engaged in the Opera 
at Lisbon. So far from remaining satisfied with his superiority, or being rendered self-sufficient by the enthusiastic 
applause of the public, Crescentini, fatigued with his evening's exertions, used to return to his hotel and sit down to his 
harpsichord, at which he remained till a late hour, singing over again all the most remarkable songs of his part in the 
Opera, and devising new turns of expression, new embellishments, and new cadences, for the next public performance. 



; 5G 













nie, both e'en - ing and 

- MU» 





When our 


shep - herd's 



on the boer - reed and 


~. r-i & 







horn; While we're milk - ing they're liit - ing 2 sae jo - cund and 


the shepherds take pleasure to blow on the horn, 
To raise up their flocks i' the fresh simmer morn : 
On the steep ferny banks they feed pleasant and free — 
But alas ! my dear heart, all my sighing's for thee ! 

the sheep-herding's lightsome amang the green braes, 
Where Cayle wimples clear 'neath the white-blossomed slaes, 
Where the wild-thyme and meadow-queen scent the saft gale, 
And the cushat croods 3 leesomely down in the dale. 

There the lintwhite and mavis sing sweet frae the thorn, 
And blithe lilts the laverock 4 aboon the green corn, 
And a' things rejoice in the simmer's glad prime — 
But my heart's wi' my love in the far foreign clime. 

Bright. — A pen in which the ewes are milked. 

2 Singing or playing cheerfully. 

3 Ringdove coos. 

" the Ewe-boqhting's bonnie." The words which we have adopted for the air of " The Yellow-hair'd Laddie" 
are the first two stanzas of a song written for that air by the late Thomas Pringle, and published in his Poetical 
Works, London, E. Moxon, 1838, pp. 170, 171. It is necessary to observe that Mr. Pringle's stanzas are of eight 
lines each, while only four lines are required for each time the air is sung. We are therefore obliged to divide the 
two stanzas into four. Mr. Pringle's note on the song is as follows : — " The first verse (stanza) of this song is old. 
It was transcribed by the editor from a fragment in the handwriting of the celebrated Lady Grisel Baillie, inclosed in 
a letter written from Scotland to her brother Patrick, who was at that time an exile in Holland, along with her father 
(afterwards Earl of Marchmont) and her future husband, Baillie of Jerviswood. The style is not unlike that of her 
own sweet song — ' were na my heart light, I wad dee.' The other verses (stanzas) are an attempt to complete the 
simple ditty in the same pastoral strain. — T. P." We have not given the old words usually sung to this air, because 
they are not only very mediocre as poetry, but also ill adapted to the accents of the melody. The air seems to be not 
older than the latter part of the seventeenth century. One of the most artificial versions of it that we have seen is 
Watts', in 1729, vol. i. p. 106, of his Musical Miscellany. One of the best, in several respects, is found in William 
M 'Gibbon's Collection, oblong folio. 



= 80 




■ #=£=^ 

^£e& e£ 


My wife's 

win - some wee 

thing, She 

a hand - some 




vee thing, She 

a bon - nie wee thing, This Bweet wee wife o' 


ne - ver saw a 


ne - ver lo'ed a dear 


5 ££^S= ^ 




my heart I'll wear her, For 

fear my jew - el 

tine. 2 

leeze 3 me on my wee thing. 
My bonnie, blithesome wee thing ; 
Sae lang's I ha'e my wee thing 
I'll think my lot divine. 

Tho' warld's care we share o't, 
And may sae meikle mair o't, 
Wi' her I'll blithely bear it, 
And ne'er a word repine. 

i Next. 

2 Lose. 

An expression of utrong affection. 

" My wipe's a winsome wee thing." The air is of uncertain date, but was printed in Oswald's Caledonian Pocket 
Companion. In a letter to Mr. George Thomson, dated 8th November 1792, Burns writes as follows: — " If you 
mean, my dear sir, that all the songs in your collection shall be poetry of the first merit, I am afraid you will find 
more difficulty in the undertaking than your are aware of. 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. For instance, in the air, ' My wife's a wanton wee thing,' if 
a few lines smooth and pretty can be adapted to it, it is all you can expect. The following were made extempore to 
it ; and though, on further study, I might give you something more profound, yet it might not suit the light-horse 
gallop of the air so well as this random clink." The lines referred to by Burns are those we have given to the air. 
On the difficulty of writing songs to airs we have already made some remarks in this work, p. 78, et passim. 

In addition to the passage just quoted from Burns, we may observe that a very common fault of those who compose 
music to poetry, is neglect of the true accent and emphasis. Walker, in his Rhetorical Grammar, says, — " In verse, 
every syllable must have the same accent, and every word the same emphasis, as in prose : for, though the rhythmical 
arrangement of the accent and emphasis is the very definition of poetry, yet if this arrangement tends to give an 
emphasis to words which would have none in prose, or an accent to such syllables as have probably no accent, the 
rhythmus, or music of the verse, must be entirely neglected. Thus the article (lie ought never to have a stress, though 
placed in that part of the verse where the ear expects an accent." Sheridan says, " A good articulation consists in 
giving every letter in a syllable its due proportion of sound, according to the most approved custom of pronouncing 
it ; and in making such a distinction between the syllables of which words are composed, that the ear shall without 
difficulty acknowledge their number, and perceive at once to which syllable each letter belongs. A good articulation 
is to the ear in speaking what a fair and regular hand is to the eye in writing ; and exactness in sounding the words 
rightly, corresponds to propriety in spelling ; in both cases the understanding can comprehend what is offered to it 
with ease and quickness, and without being obliged to have recourse to painful attention. As accent marks the 
syllable in a word on which the greatest stress is laid, so emphasis points out the most significant word in the 
sentence Were there no accents, words would be resolved into their original syllables ; were there no empha- 
sis, sentences would be resolved into their original words ; and in this case, the heart r must be at the pains himself 
first, of making out the words, and afterwards their meaning," &c. We shall resume this subject in p. 208. 



• = 80 





i 4 ■h J 4 j- 

Where ha'e ye been a' the day, Bon - nie lad - die, High-land lad - die ? 





Saw ye him that's far 


Bon - nie lad - die, High - land lad - die i 






On his head 


bon - net blue, 

Bon - nie lad - die, High - land lad - die ; 

£ ft =Fs: 




Tar - tan plaid and High - land trews, Bon - nie lad - die, High - land lad - die 1 

When he drew his gude braid sword, 

Bonnie laddie, Highland laddie, 
Then he gave his royal word, 

Bonnie laddie, Highland laddie, 
That frae the field he ne'er would flee, 

Bonnie laddie, Highland laddie, 
But wi' his friend would live or dee, 

Bonnie laddie, Highland laddie. 

Weary fa' the Lawland loon, 

Bonnie laddie, Highland laddie, 
Wha took frae him the British crown, 

Bonnie laddie, Highland laddie ; 
But blessings on the kilted clans, 

Bonnie laddie, Highland laddie, 
That fought for him at Prestonpans, 

Bonnie laddie, Highland laddie. 

" Where ha'e te been a' the day ?" In James Hogg's Jacobite Relics, second series, No. 105, p. 202, occurs a 
song beginning, " Geordie sits in Charlie's chair," to be sung to the air which is given to No. 63 of the same volume, 
called " The Highland Laddie." Hogg's version of the air differs from the one we have adopted. The song, No. 105, 
is horribly ludicrous, but we cannot give it entire, ou account of the extreme coarseness of some of the stanzas. A 
modification of it is published in Mr. George Thomson's Collection, with two introductory stanzas not in Hogg's 
edition. The stanza beginning, " Weary fa' the Lawland loon," is the second in Hogg's copy. As an additional song, 
we give below the first and fourth stanzas (the best, and long enough for singing) of a humorous song published 
anonymously in Blackie's Book of Scottish Song, p. 262. Mr. Stenhouse, in his Note on " The Highland Laddie," 
(No. 468 of Johnson's Museum,) quotes two songs from a " Collection of loyal songs, poems, &c, 1750," and says, — 
" The air to which the foregoing songs are adapted is very spirited. It appears without a name in Oswald's Cale- 
donian Pocket Companion, Book i. p. 36, under a slow air called ' The Highland Laddie.' But the old appellation of 
the air was ' Cockle Shells,' and (it) was known in England during the usurpation of Cromwell, for it is printed in 
Playford's ' Dancing Master,' first edition, in 1657." Mr. Stenhouse seems to confound together two very dissimilar 
airs. " Cockle Shells " is evidently the old version of the air which we have given above to the words beginning, 
" Where ha'e ye been a' (the) day ?" but has nothing in common with the tune in Oswald to which Mr. Stenhouse 
refers. The air of " Cockle Shells" has a starting-note, and concludes on the sixth of the key; while the modern 
versions of the same air, under the name of " The Highland Laddie," or " Highland Laddie," omit the starting-note, 
and close upon the fifth of the key ; thus destroying characteristic features of the melody. The tune called " The 
Lass of Livingston," is another version of " Cockle Shells." 

To ha'e a wife and rule a wife, 

Taks a wise man, taks a wise man ; 

But to get a wife to rule a man, 

O that ye can, O that ye can. 

So the wife that's wise we aye maun prize, 

For they're few ye ken, they're scarce ye ken ; 

O Solomon says ye'll no fin' ane 

In hundreds ten, in hundreds ten. 

Sae he that gets a guid, guid wife, 
Gets gear aneugh, gets gear aneugh ; 
An' he that gets an ill, ill wife, 
Gets cares aneugh, gets fears aneugh. 
A man may spen', an' ha'e to the en', 
If his wife be ought, if his wife be ought : 
But a man may spare, an' aye be bare, 
If his wife be nought, if his wife be nought. 




: 92 




(V Z 1e > 




cas - tie wa', 


at the 

close of 


y 1 - 

d — 

— *—-- 


f - ^" 


— i i 1 r=r$-\ 


1 • — 


■ 1 

— * 

— • — 

— *^— ■ — I 






head it 

-*— — 





was sing - ing, the 




: I 



There'll ne 

ver be 


till Jam - ie 

comes hame. 

The church is in ruins, the state is in jars, 
Delusions, oppressions, and murderous wars : 
We daurna weel say't, but we ken wha's to blame — 
There'll never be peace till Jamie comes hame. 

My seven braw sons for Jamie drew sword, 

And now I greet 1 round their green beds in the yird : 

It brak the sweet heart o' my faithfu' auld dame — 
There'll never be peace till Jamie comes hame. 

Now life is a burden that bows me down, 
Since I tint my bairns, and he tint 2 his crown ; 
But till my last moments my words are the same — 
There'll never be peace till Jamie comes hame. 


2 Lost. 

" There'll never be peace till Jamie comes hame." These words were written by Burns for Johnson's Museum, 
where they appear, No. 315, to a modification of the tune, "There are few good fellows when Jamie's awa'," pub- 
lished by James Oswald in his first " Collection of curious Scots Tunes," dedicated to Frederick Prince of Wales, in 
1742. In the Reliques, Burns mentions that this tune is sometimes called, " There's few good fellows when Willie's 
awa' ;" but he had never been able to meet with anything else of the song than the title. Mr. Stenhouse, in his Note 
upon the song and air in Johnson's Museum, does not advert to the differences between the air in the Museum and 
the air given by Oswald. The chief differences are in the sixth, tenth, thirteenth, and fourteenth measures, as appears 
from Oswald's version here subjoined. The jl E introduced in the tenth measure of the air in Johnson is harsh and 
erroneous ; so that we have preserved the \> E, which is found in both Oswald and M'Gibbon. The latter gives the 
chord of D major, decidedly, in the sixth and fourteenth measures. As Oswald's and M'Gibbon's versions have been 
superseded by Johnson's, we have adopted the latter, with the exception of the |l E abovementioned. The second 
strain of the air in Oswald, M'Gibbon, and Johnson, being merely a repetition of the first an octave higher, and 
therefore beyond the compass of any ordinary voice, we have given the first strain only. 

From p. 36 of Oswald's Collection abovementioned : — 












= 80 


LENTAMENTK. (']) -j- 

Hap - py's the love that 




ight and acorn ; O 

ne'er had 

y -Q ] LttFP Z 










flow - er ! 'Jiang circ- ling hills, that guard her hame, The bon - nie 










loch's clear 


gleam, And there lives 










mar - row, Ma - ry Scott, the flow'r o' Yar - row ! 

Ah no ! her form's too heavenly fair, 

Her love the gods above must share ; 
While mortals with despair explore her, 

And at a distance due adore her. 
lovely maid ! my doubts beguile, 

Revive and bless me with a smile : 
Alas ! if not, you'll soon debar a 

Sighing swain the banks of Yarrow. 

Be hush, ye fears, I'll not despair, 

My Mary's tender as she's fair ; 
Then I'll go tell her all mine anguish, 

She is too good to let me languish ; 
With success crown'd, I'll not envy 

The folks who dwell above the sky ; 
When Mary Scott's become my marrow, 

We'll make a paradise of Yarrow. 

" Happy's the love that meets return." This is an old Border air, originally of one strain only. The second 
strain, which is ill adapted for singing, was added at the commencement of last century, and appeared in Thomson's 
Orpheus Caledonius, 1725. The words are by Allan Ramsay, but do him little credit. Mr. Stenhouse says, — "I 
have frequently heard the old song, in my younger days, sung on the banks of the Tweed. It consisted of several 
stanzas of four lines each ; and the constant burden of which was, ' Mary Scott's the flower o' Yarrow.' This cele- 
brated fair one was the daughter of Philip Scott of Dryhope, in the county of Selkirk. The old tower of Dryhope, 
■where Mary Scott was born, was situated near the lower extremity of Mary's lake, where its ruins are still visible. 
She was married to Walter Scott, the laird of Harden, who was as renowned for his depredations, as his wife was for 

her beauty One of her descendants, Miss Mary Lilias Scott of Harden, equally celebrated for her beauty and 

accomplishments, is the Mary alluded to in Crawfurd's beautiful song of ' Tweedside.' Sir Walter Scott says, that 
the romantic appellation of the ' Flower of Yarrow' was in later days, with equal justice, conferred on the Miss Mary 
Lilias Scott of Crawfurd's ballad. It may be so, but it must have been confined to a very small circle indeed, for 
though born in her neighbourhood, I never once heard of such a circumstance, nor can I see any justice whatever in 
transferring the appellation of the ' Flower of Yarrow ' to her descendant, who was born on the banks of the Tweed." 
See Museum Illustrations, vol. i. pp. 77, 78. 



• = 63 

ESPKESSIVO. \ (\) 4 1 









Ee - lin 











\ \. 


. . . 


[> \ 


_ . JV L 





j ..-.;<■ 


1 ■ m - 


- m t 



w * 



1 "■ 

" * 







nieht and day 
». 1 


me scho cries, 



I war 



\ \ 


T J J 


v — 




1 1 








Curse ' on the hand that shot the shot, 
Likewise the gun that ga'e the crack ; 
Fair Eelin in my arms scho lap, 
And deit for love of me. 

think na ye my heart was sair 
To see her lie, and speak na mair ! 
There did scho swoon, wi' mickle care, 

On fair Kirkconnel lee. 

1 loutit down, my sword did draw ; 
I cuttit him in pieces sua' ; 

I cuttit him in pieces sma' 
On fair Kirkconnel lee. 

Eelin fair, without compare, 
I'll mack a garland of thy hair, 
And wear the same for evermair, 

Until the day I dee. 

1 wish my grave were growin' green, 
A winding-sheet put o'er my een, 
And I in Eelin's arms lyin' 

On fair Kirkconnel lee. 

O Eelin chast, thou wast modest ; 
War I with thee I wad be blest ; 
Where thou lies low, and tak'st thy rest, 
On fair Kirkconnel lee. 

I wish I war where Eelin lies, 
For nicht and day on me scho cries ; 
I wish I war where Eelin 2 lies, 
On fair Kirkconnel lee. 

1 Wae may be sung instead. 

! Eelin for Helen is the spelling purposely used throughout by Mr. Sharpe. 

" I wish I war wuere Eelin lies." In his Note upon " I wish I were where Helen lies," Mr. Stenhouse says : — 
" There are various editions of this ballad in Pinkerton's Scottish Poems, Sir Walter Scott's Border Minstrelsy, 
Kitson's Scottish Songs, and other collections, but they all differ more or less from one another, and the several airs 
to which the words have been adapted are also dissimilar. All of them are evidently modern, and totally different 
from the simple and plaintive little air to which the editor has always heard the ballad sung in the south of Scotland." 
Museum Illustrations, vol. ii. p. 143. Johnson also gives an air in his Museum, No. 155. We know not who will 
hesitate to prefer to its meaningless melody and absurd embellishments the simple and expressive air which we have 
adopted for the words, and for which we are obliged to the kind attention of Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe, Esq., of 
Hoddam. The words are those given by Mr. Sharpe in his note upon No. 155 of Johnson's Museum, as " the genuine 
words which he has heard sung hundreds of times in Annandale." On the 20th January 1849, the Editor received 
from that gentleman the following communication : — 

" 28, Drummond Place, Friday night. 

" Dear Sir, — I inclose the music you wished for, to do with what you please. This is the Annandale air, which 

either is very pretty and expressive, or I am too partial to the music of my early days. I think praises the 

common fal-de-ral printed with the words. I never could make head or tail of it ! — Believe me, dear sir, most faith- 
fully yours, 

" Chas. Kirkpatrick Sharpe." 

In the Additional Illustrations to Johnson's Museum, vol. ii. pp. 208-211, Mr. Sharpe gives a long note upon the 











9 " -•*--- -#•• 

pearl of the foun - tain, the rose of ihe val - ley, Are 

y .. . m s 







spark- ling and love-ly, are stain- 
dtt it h N n. S. 

ess and mild ; The pearl sheds its ray 'neath the darl, 

wa- ter gai - ly, The 

■ l/BiLff > » [> R p 

IS \ ! 


> R 

Vt "it I r # « J* m 

■ J J J 



p J 

(i\\ tt * L> r * • 4 • 

d d d 


\ * 


r « 

vp ' u 



' m 

»J " 


-m- * 

rose opes its bios - soms to bloom on the wild. 

The pearl and the rose are the 





em - blems of Ma - ry, The maid of Glen - con - nel, once love - ly and gay ; 


I S ^ fr-£ 


pJ — »^-4~» 


4 4 4 

false lo-verwoo'd her, ye dam-sels be wa - ry, Now scath'd is the bios- som, now dimm'd is the ray. 

You have seen her when morn brightly dawn'd on the mountain, 
Trip blythely along, singing sweet to the gale : 

At noon, with her lambs, by the side of yon fountain ; 
Or wending, at eve, to her home in the vale. 

With the flowers of the willow-tree blent are her tresses, 
Now, woe-worn and pile, in the glen she is seen 

Bewailing the cause of her rueful distresses, — 
How fondly he vow'd — and how false he has been. 

" The Pearl of the Fountain." The air is found in Part Fourth, p. 10, of Neil Qow and Sons* Complete Reposi- 
tory, under the name of " The Island of Mull, by the Earl of Eglintoun." The words are published in Blackie's Book 
of Scottish Song, p. 359, with the name of " Munro " prefixed as their author. We are unable to obtain any informa- 
tion regarding this " Munro," even from Mr. Blackie himself. In a collection called " The Harp of Renfrewshire," 
Glasgow, 1820, we find song 204, beginning, " Thou must not linger, lovely one," ascribed to J. Munro; probably the 
same who wrote the song we here republish. From a passage in the introduction to " The Ballads and Songs of 
Ayrshire," 1846, pp. v, vi, it appears that the late Earl of Eglinton was not only a promoter of music, but also a 
first-rate performer on the violin and harp, and the composer of several popular dance tunes, among which " The 
Ayrshire Lasses" is still a favourite. He is understood to have been the author of a collection of music, published 
" by a young gentleman," about the end of last century, when he was Major Montgomery. 

Referring to remarks upon accent and emphasis in Note, p. 201, and Note, p. 203, supra, we resume the subject for a 
moment for the sake of illustration. In Handel's noble Oratorio, " The Messiah," we find instances of wrong emphasis 
and accent, such as the following : — " He shall feed his flock ;" " He was despised." In the latter song the emphasis 
is thrown four times upon the word man, while the words should be sung " a man of sorrow." In the Chandos 
Anthems, also, passim, there are many similar faults. For instance, in the first of these, the words " that the Lord is 
King," are thus wrongly accented, instead of " that the Lord is King." Even Purcell, so accurate in general, makes 
a great mistake in " Fairest isle." Dr. Arne was remarkably correct in his accent and emphasis. We have not 
space to give more examples ; but what we have said is enough for intelligent readers. We have purposely selected 
these instances from Handel, because he was one of the greatest composers that ever existed ; and because his works 
are now becoming better known and more deeply admired in England than they were during his lifetime. His errors 
in setting English words to music were excusable in a foreigner imperfectly acquainted with that language ; but the 
same excuse cannot be extended to those English composers who so frequently misplace both accent and emphasis in 
their vocal compositions. 



: 72 











My mi - ther's ay glow - rin' ower me, Though she did the same be ■ 







fore me ; I can - na get leave to look at my love, Or else she'd be like to de - 

r \* r ."P 






vour me. Right fain wad I tak' your of - fer, Sweet sir, but I'll tine my 

' ( =■*" — # — g— 




toch - er;' Then San-dy you'll fret, And wyte a your poor Kate, Whene'er you keek in your toom 3 cof - fer. 

For though my father has plenty 
Of silver, and plenishing dainty, 
Vet he's unco sweir 4 
To twine wi' his gear ; B 
And sae we had need to be tenty. 9 

Tutor my parents wi' caution ; 

Be wylie in ilka motion ; 
Brag weel o' your land, 
And there's my leal 7 hand, 

Win them, I'll be at your devotion. 

1 Dowry. 2 Blame. 3 Empty. * Unwilling. ■• Part with hia money. 6 Watchful. 7 Faithful. 

" My Mither's at glowrin' ower me." Mr. Stenhouse's Note upon No. 172 of Johnson's Museum is as follows : — 
" This humorous little song, beginning, ' My mother's ay glowrin' ower me,' was also written by Allan Ramsay, as a 
sequel to his ' Young Laird and Edinburgh Katy.' It was first printed in the Tea-Table Miscellany in 1724. The 
verses are adapted to an ancient tune, in triple time, called A Health to Bettii, which originally consisted of one 
strain, and is printed in this simple style in Thomson's Orpheus Caledonius in 1725. This tune appears to have been 
one of those which were introduced into England about the union of the crowns ; for it is one of those collected and 
published by old John Play ford, in his ' Dancing Master,' printed in 1G57. The second strain is a modern addition." 
See Museum Illustrations, vol. ii. p. 169. In the older versions of the air, the seventh of the key is minor through- 
out. The imperfect close upon the second of the key is a peculiarity not often found in minor airs of any country. 
We have adopted the modern version of the air, which has become familiar to the public. The song mentioned above, 
to which Ramsay wrote as a sequel " My mither's ay glowrin' ower me," is not entirely his ; the first stanza being 
the first of an old song not suited for modern singing. The first stanza, subjoined, tells enough to explain "Katy's 
answer" to " The Young Laird." 

Now wat ye wha I met yestreen, 
Coming down the street, my jo? 
My mistress in her tartan screen, 
Fu' bonnie, braw, and sweet, my jo. 
My dear, quoth I, thanks to the night 
That never wisli'd a lover ill, 
Since ye're out of your mither's sight, 
Let's tak' a walk up to the hill. 




^• = 72 






— m< i 






i-^-^— * — v- 



Ae fond kiss, and then we se - ver ; Ae fare- weel, and then for ev - er ! 





»— *- 




Deep in heart - wrung tears I'll pledge thee, War- ring sighs and groans I'll wage thee! 



: F£ 

-* — *- 


Who shall say that For - tune grieves him, While the star of Hope she leaves him? 




glE^^=^g^l@g| B5j ^ 

Me, nae cheer - fu' twin - hie lights me ; Dark de - spair a - round be - nights me ! 

I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy, 
Naething could resist my Nancy : 
But to see her, was to love her ; 
Love but her, and love for ever. 
Had we never lov'd sae kindly, 
Had we never lov'd sae blindly, 
Never met — or never parted — 
We had ne'er been broken-hearted. 

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

" Ae fond kiss, and then we sever." It appears that this song was written by Burns in 1790, for Johnson's 
Scottish Musical Museum ; and that Burns, in his manuscript, desired the song to be set to the tune of " Rory Dall's 
Port," in Book viii. of Oswald's Caledonian Pocket Companion ; which was done accordingly by Burns's friend, 
Stephen Clarke, organist of the Episcopal Chapel, CanoDgate, Edinburgh. The four last lines of the second stanza 
are unrivalled in condensed beauty and pathos. The air here given is No. 347 of Johnson's Museum, but transposed 
a major third below to suit ordinary voices. It is necessary to observe that there are several " Ports" quite different 
from this one, but also ascribed to Rory Dall. One of these is in Aird's Collection, and another in the Straloch and 
Skene MSS in the Advocates' Library, Edinburgh. In the Essay prefixed to the Rev. Mr. Macdonald's Collection of 
Highland Airs, and in Mr. John Gunn's work on the Highland Harp, there is some information regarding a celebrated 
blind Highland harper named Roderick Morison, commonly known as Eory Dull, or Blind Rory. It seems probable 
that the Rory Dall referred to by Mr. Gunn, as still living and composing " about the year 1650," was the same 
person who composed the Ports above mentioned. In Captain Simon Fraser's Collection of Highland Airs, No. 9, 
there is one called " The Cow Boy," which is evidently a much-spoiled version of the marked and characteristic air 
that we here give with Burns's words. 



• = ioo 




3—. — **—- - . d B 

In the garb of old Gaul, with the fire of old Rome, From the 







heath -co - vered moun - tains of 

Sco - tia we come; Where the Ro - mans en - dea - vour'd our 






:-=if=* — F- 

* — 1 ^— ^g"* — K 

try to gain, But our an - ces - tors fought, and they fought not in vain. 



our love of Ii - ber - ty, our coun - try, and our laws, That like our an - ces ■ 


. > f J^v 





* — ^ 


of old, we stand by free - dom's cause ; We'll brave -ly fight, like he - roes bright, for 




■ our and applause, And de - fy the French, with all their arts, to al - ter our laws 

No effeminate customs our sinews unbrace, 

No luxurious tables enervate our race ; 

Our loud-sounding pipe bears the true martial strain, 

So do we the old Scottish valour retain. 

Such our love, &c. 
As a storm in the ocean when Boreas blows, 
So are we enraged when we rush on our foes ; 
We sons of the mountains, tremendous as rocks, 
Dash the force of our foes with our thundering strokes. 

We're tall as the oak on the mount of the vale, 
Are swift as the roe which the hound doth assail, 
As the full moon in autumn our shields do appear, 
Minerva would dread to encounter our spear. 

Such our love, &c. 
Quebec and Cape Breton, the pride of old France, 
Iu their troops fondly boasted till we did advance ; 
But when our claymores they saw us produce, 
Their courage did fail and they sued for a truce. 

Such our love, &c. 

Such our love, &c. 

In our realm may the fury of faction long cease, 
May our councils be wise and our commerce increase, 
And in Scotia's cold climate may each of us find, 
That our friends still prove true and our beauties prove kind. 
Then we'll defend our liberty, our country and our laws, 
And teach our late posterity to fight in Freedom's cause, 
That they like our ancestors bold, for honour and applause, 
May defy the French, with all their art, to alter our laws. 

" In the Garb op Old Gaul." Mr. Stenhouse, in his Note on No. 210 of Johnson's Museum, says that this song 
was composed by the late Sir Harry Erskine of Torry, Baronet, and that it was printed in Herd's Collection, 1769 
and 1776. Mr. David Laing corrects this by stating that " the writer of this song was Lieutenant-General Sir Henry 
Erskine, Baronet, but not of Torry, as erroneously stated at p. 202. He was the second son of Sir John Erskine of 
Alva, and succeeded to the baronetcy on the death of his elder brother. He was Deputy-Quartermaster-General, and 
succeeded his uncle, the Hon. General St. Clair, in the command of the Royal Scots, in 1762. He was long a dis- 
tinguished member of the House of Commons. He died at York, when on his way to London, 9th of August 1765," 
&c. Mr. Laing also states that the song was previously printed in " The Lark," 1765. See Museum Illustrations, 
vol. iii. p. 298. We have no doubt that the gallant Baronet was much better skilled in fighting than in writing. Mr. 
Stenhouse further says, that " the air was composed by the late General John Reid, Colonel of the 88th Regiment of 
Foot, who has bequeathed a considerable sum for establishing a Professorship of Music in the University of Edinburgh." 







ANDANTE rg fr-ft-L^ j: 

CANTAEILE. ffi^ 4^ 7t r-*- 






My heart's in the High - lands, My heart 


here ; 


heart's in 



High - lands, 

chas - ing the 

TI 1 [ 

— , 

«; — k — l — 





' 1 ■■ 


? r 

id ) ■ 



^ J • 4 1 




s ■ - 


-1 r 

A - 


- ing the 

wild - deer, and 

fol - low - ing 

1 1 — r 



-d. J_ 


— d * 



— J — -J— - 





— 1 

■ h 

— m ■• i 




heart's in 


High - lands where - ev 


Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the north, 
The birth-place of valour, the country of worth ; 
Wherever I wander, wherever I rove, 
The hills of the Highlands for ever I love. 

Farewell to the mountains high cover'd with snow ; 
Farewell to the straths and green valleys below ; 

Farewell to the forests and wild-hanging woods ; 
Farewell to the torrents and loud-pouring floods. 

My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here, 
My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer ; 
A-chasing the wild-deer, and following the roe, 
My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go. 

" My Heart's in the Highlands." In his Note upon No. 259 of Johnson, Mr. Stenhouse says : — " The first half 
Btanza of this song (says Burns) is old — the rest is mine." See EeKqves. Mr. C. K. Sharpe's additional note on the 
same No. of Johnson is as follows : — " I subjoin the pretty words of the old song, which was a favourite with Sir 
Walter Scott, from a stall copy in my possession." Instead of the air " Failte na moisg," to which the song is adapted 
in Johnson's Museum, we have adopted the much finer Gaelic air called " Crochallan," in R. A. Smith's Minstrel, but 
named " Crodh Chailean" by Captain Fraser in his collection. The air has an Irish cast. 


The day I first landed, it was on Irish ground, 
The tidings came to me from fair Derry town, 
That my love was married, and to my sad woe ; 
And I lost my first love by courting too slow. 

Let us drink and go hame, drink and go hame, 
If we stay any longer we'll get a bad name ; 
We'll get a bad name, and we'll fill ourselves fou, 
And the strong walls of Derry it's ill to go through. 

When I was in the Highlands it was my «se' 
To wear a blue bonnet, the plaid, and the trews, 
But now since I'm come to the fair Irish shore, 
Adieu to Valenderry, and bonnie Portmore. 
Let us, &c. 

0, bonnie Portmore, thou shines where thou stands, 
The more I look on thee, the more my heart warms, 
But when I look from thee my heart is full sore, 
When I think on the lily I lost at Portmore. 
Let us, &c. 

Donald, Donald, ! where have you been? 
A-hawking and hunting ; gar make my bed clean, 
Go make my bed clean, and stir up the straw, 
My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go. 

Let us, &c. 
My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here, 
My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer, 
A-chasing the wild-deer, and following the doe, 
My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go. 

Let us, &c. 

There is many a word spoken, but few of the best, 
And he that speaks fairest lives longest at rest : 
I speak by experience — my mind serves me so, 
But my heart's in the Highlands wherever I go. 
Let us, &c. 

1 Due in the original. Sir Walter Seott has written on the margiD, " Tee, perhaps. 



= 69 



When mer 



hearts were gay, Care - less 







ght but play, Poor Flo - ra slipt a - way, Sadd' - ning to Mo - ra ;' 




Loose flow'd her yel - low hair, Quick heav'd her bo - som bare, As 




thus to the trou - bled air She ven - ted her 

sor - row. 

" Loud howls the stormy west, 
Cold, cold is winter's blast ; 
Haste then, Donald ! haste, 

Haste to thy Flora ! 
Twice twelve long months are o'er, 
Since on a foreign shore 
You promis'd to fight no more, 
But meet me in Mora. 
" ' Where now is Donald dear ? ' 
Maids cry with taunting sneer, 
' Say, is he still sincere 

To his lov'd Flora?' 
Parents upbraid my moan ; 
Each heart is turn'd to stone — 
Ah ! Flora, thou'rt now alone, 
Friendless in Mora ! 
" Come then, come away ! 
Donald, no longer stay ; 
Where can my rover stray 
From his lov'd Flora? 
Ah ! sure he ne'er can be 
False to his vows and me : 
Oh, Heaven ! is not yonder he 
Bounding o'er Mora ? " 
" Never, ah wretched fair!" 

(Sigh'd the sad messenger,) 
" Never shall Donald mair 
Meet his lov'd Flora ! 

Cold as yon mountain snow, 
Donald, thy love, lies low, 
He sent me to soothe thy wo, 

Weeping in Mora. 
1 Well fought our gallant men 
On Saratoga's plain ; 
Thrice fled the hostile train 

From British glory. 
But ah ! though our foes did flee, 
Sad was each victory : 
Youth, love, and loyalty, 

Fell far from Mora. 
' ' Here take this love- wrought plaid,' 
Donald, expiring, said ; 
' Give it to yon dear maid 

Drooping in Mora. 
Tell her, O Allan, tell, 
Donald thus bravely fell, 
And that in his last Farewell 

He thought on his Flora.' " 
Mute stood the trembling fair, 
Speechless with wild despair ; 
Then, striking her bosom bare, 

Sigh'd out— "Poor Flora! 
Ah, Donald! ah, well-a-day !" 
Was all the fond heart could say : 
At length the sound died away, 

Feebly, in Morn. 

' Mora is the name of a small valley in Atboll, so named by the lovers." 

" When merry hearts were gay." " This fine ballad," says Mr. Stenhouse, " is the composition of Hector Mac- 
neil, Esq., author of the celebrated poem of ' Will and Jean,' and other popular works. Mr. Macneil told me that he 
wrote this song to commemorate the death of his friend Captain Stewart, a gallant officer (betrothed to a young lady 

in Atholl) who fell at the battle of Saratoga in America, in the year 1777 The words are adapted to a fine old 

Gaelic air. In the Museum the song is printed as it was originally written ; but the author has subsequently altered 
and corrected some of the stanzas." Museum Illustrations, vol. iii. p. 238. The Editor of this work does not parti- 
cipate in Mr. Stenhouse's admiration of this song. The words are ill-adapted to the music in respect of accent and 
emphasis ; and the ballad is too long for the patience of singer and hearers. The first three stanzas will probably be 
found quite enough for most listeners. 




= 92 




p=g= ^=ga 




p-w— F-F— m-i 

At Pol - wart on the green, If you'll meet me the 



# — P-P=^qe 




morn, "Where lasa - es do con 

To dance a - bout the thorn : 


f,r r 





kind - ly wel 

you shall meet Frae her wha likes to 





"* # 

lo - ver and a lad com - plete, The lad and lo - ver 


Let dorty' dames say na. 

As long as e'er they please ; 
Seem caulder than the snaw, 

While inwardly they bleeze : 
But I will frankly show my mind, 

And yield my heart to thee : 
Be ever to the captive kind 

That longs na to be free. 

1 Saucy, malttpurt. 

" At Polwart on the Green." " Mr. Chalmers claims this song, beginning ' At Polwart on the Green,' as the 
production of Allan Ramsay. Burns, on the other hand, asserts it to have been written by a Captain John Drum- 
mond M'Gregor, of the family of Bochaldie. I should rather think that Mr. Burns had been misinformed; for Mr. 
Chalmers was at very great pains to procure authentic information relative to those songs in the Tea-Table Miscellany 
which were de facto written by Ramsay, and the Editor of the present work has a copy of the Orpheus Caledonius in 
1733, where the letter R, in a pretty old hand, is prefixed to this song in the Index, to denote that it was written by 
Ramsay. Ramsay published it in his Tea-Table Miscellany in 17-4, and the first four lines of the first verse (stanza), 
and the concluding lines of the last, are printed in Italics, to shew that they belonged to a much older song to the 
same air. Thomson adapted Ramsay's version of the song to the original air in his Orpheus Caledonius in 17-5. 
Polwarth is the name of a small village in Berwickshire ; in the middle of it are two ancient thorn trees, a few yards 
distant from each other, around which it was formerly the custom for every newly married pair, and the company 
invited to the wedding, to dance in a ring. From this circumstance originated the old song of ' Polwarth on the 
Green.' The air, vnder the title of Polwart on the Green, is inserted in Mrs. Crocket's book, written in 1709, and in 
Craig's Old Scottish Airs, in 1730. Gay selected this tune for one of his songs in the Opera of ' Polly,' beginning, 
' Love now is nought but art;' printed, but not acted, in 1729." See Mr. Stenhouse's Note in Museum Illustrations, 
vol. ii. pp. 176, 177. We have adopted the first and second stanzas only of the song, for reasons that will strike 
every reader acquainted with the whole three stanzas. We believe the air to be English. 



: 72 





w~ nrs- =f^= 




O Ken-mure's on, and a - wa', Wil-Iie, O Ken-mure's on, and a - 







And Ken-mure's lord's the brav - est lord That ev - er Gal - lo - way 

/f A 1 r— : -f f J-'-l- s , • . T C -T * F , v 

# "i^J ** ¥ '— ^^ ' 1 % " ! Hj d 

Sue - cess to Ken - mure's band, Wil-he, Sue - cess to Ken-mure's 



^—*-\-^->-^r ^ 


band ! There's no a heart that fears a Whig, That rides in Ken-mure's band. 

Here's Kenmure's health in wine, Willie, 

Here's Kenmure's health in wine ; 
There ne'er was a coward o' Kenmure's blude, 

Nor yet o' Gordon's line. 
Kenmure's lads are men, Willie, 

Kenmure's lads are men ; 
Their hearts and swords are metal true, 

And that their foes shall ken. 

They'll live or die wi' fame, Willie, 

They'll live or die wi' fame ; 
But soon, wi' sounding victorie, 

May Kenmure's lord come hame. 
Here's him that's far awa', Willie, 

Here's him that's far awa' ; 
And here's the flower that I lo'e best, 

The rose that's like the snaw. 

" Kenmube's on and awa'." " The hero of this ballad," says Mr. Stenhouse, " was the Right Honourable William 
Gordon, Viscount Kenmure, Commander-in-Chief of the Chevalier's forces in the south-west of Scotland in 1715. 
Having left Kenmure at the head of about two hundred horsemen, and formed a junction with the troops under the 
command of General Forster, he marched as far as Preston in Lancashire. Here, however, his lordship surrendered 
himself a prisoner at discretion, and was appointed to be conducted, with many of his unfortunate followers, to Lon- 
don, in 1715. Arriving at Highgatc, each of the prisoners was placed on horseback, with his arms firmly pinioned, 
and a foot-soldier holding the reins of his bridle. On the 9th of that month, General Tatton, who commanded the 
detachment, left Highgate with the prisoners, and proceeded to London, drums beating a victorious march, and the 
mob strengthening the chorus with the horrid din of marrow-bones, cleavers, and warming-pans. In this disgraceful 
triumph were the unhappy captives led through the streets of the city, amidst the hootings and insults of a barbarous 
rabble, and conducted to the several prisons assigned to receive them. Lord Kenmure and several other noblemen 
were committed to the Tower. He was afterwards tried, and (very unjustly, as some thought) beheaded on Tower- 
hill, 24th February 1716. Burns transmitted the ballad, in his own handwriting, with the melody to which it is 
adapted, to Mr. Johnson. Cromek, in his ' Remains of Nithsdale and Galloway Song,' printed in 1810, has inserted 
three additional stanzas, which he pretends are of equal merit and antiquity with those in Ritson's Scottish Songs, 
(copied from the Museum,) but they are evidently spurious and modern. They are here annexed, however, for the 
reader's inspection. 

' There's a rose in Kenmure's cap, Willie, But gane's his ladie-courtesie, 

There's a rose in Kenmure's cap ; When he draws his bludie brand. 

He'll steep it red in ruddie heart's blede , His , adie , s cheek was ^ mme> 

Afore the battle drap. Hia la ^, s chefik wag red . 

' He kiss'd his ladie's hand, Willie, When she saw his steely jupes put on, 

He kiss'd his ladie's hand ; Which smell'd o' deadly feud.' 

It might rather have been supposed that the lady's cheeks would have assumed a pale in place of a red colour, situated 
as she was ; and as to the expressions, ruddie heart's blede and ladie-courtesie, they seem inexplicable." See MuBeuni 
Illustrations, vol. iv. pp. -338, 339. 









AN1MAT0. Vp 4- j j 



Ban - nocks o' bear - meal, and ban - nocks o' bar - ley : 



Here's to the Hieh - land - man's ban - nocks o' 


ley. Wha in 





brul - zie 1 will first cry a 


lev ? Ne - ver the lads wi' 






4 *-0 ^ w -9 

-* <r 

ban - nocks o' 


~4 r 

ley. Ban - nodes o' bear - meal, and ban - nocks 




bar - ley ; Here's to the High - land - man's ban - nocks o' bar - ley. 

The second verse commences at the sign '.$' 

Wha, in his wae days, were loyal to Charlie? 
Wha but the lads wi' the bannocks o 1 barley? 
Bannocks o' bear-meal, bannocks o' barley, 
Here's to the Highlandman's bannocks o' barley. 

1 Fight. 

" Bannocks o' Beak-meal." Mr. Stenhouse's Note is as follows : — " This fine old tune was originally called ' The 
Killogie ;' but the words beginning, ' A Lad and a Lassie lay in a Killogie,' are inadmissible. In 1688, Lord Newbottle, 
eldest son of William Ker, Earl of Lothian, afterwards created Earl of Ancrum and Marquis of Lothian, wrote a 
satirical song on the Revolution, which was adapted to the same air. It was called ' Cakes of Crowdy.' A copy of 
this curious production may be seen in the first volume of Hogg's Jacobite Relics. Another song to the same tune, 
beginning, ' Bannocks of bear-meal, and bannocks of barley,' is still sung, but it possesses little merit. Burns wrote 
the stanzas in the Museum in the Jacobite style, in which he interwove the latter title of the song with the new words. 
Cromek, in his ' Nithsdale and Galloway Songs,' has the following remark : — ' In the Scots Musical Museum there is 
but one verse and a half preserved of this song. One is surprised and incensed to see so many fine songs shorn of 
their very best verses for fear they should exceed the bounds of a page. The Editor (Cromek) has collected the two 
last heart-rousing verses, which he believes will complete the song.' Here they are : 

And claw'd their back at Falkirk's fairly, Stood in ruin wi' bonnie Prince Charlie, 

Wha but the lads wi' the bannocks o' barley ? An' 'neath the Duke's bluidy paws dreed fu' sairly, 

Wha, when hope was blasted fairly, Wha but the lads wi' the bannocks o' barley ? 

If Cromek, or his Nithsdale friends who furnished him with the old songs for that work, had only looked into the 
Museum, they would have observed that the chorus is repeated to the first strain of the air, and the two remaining 
lines to the last, so that Burns's words are quite complete, and require the tune to be sung twice over. Nay more, 
they would have discovered that there was plenty of room on the plate, had Burns chosen to write a verse or two 
more. It is therefore to be hoped, for the credit of our bard, that his verses will never be united to the trash that 
Cromek has endeavoured to palm upon the country as the remnant of what he calls a heart-rousing old song. It is 
a curious fact, that Oswald has inadvertently copied the air twice in his Caledonian Pocket Companion. In the third 
volume of that work, it is printed under the title of ' Bannocks of bear-meal ;' and, in the sixth volume, it again 
appears under the name of 'There was a Lad and a Lass in a Killogie,' from the first line of the old indelicate words 
alluded to." See Museum Illustrations, vol. v. pp. 419, 420. In an additional note upon the same song, ib., pp. 
*456, *457 Mr. Laing takes up the defence of Cromek, but we have not room to quote what he says. 




: 76 



^^^^^ f^^^^= i 

O were I on Par - na3 - sus hill, And had o' He - li - 







Cor - si - con I'll glow'r and spell, And write how dear I love thee. 

Then come, sweet Muse, inspire my lay ; 
For, a' the lee-lang simmer's day, 
1 couldna sing, I couldna say, 

How much, how dear I love thee. 
I see thee dancing ower the green, 
Thy waist sae jimp, thy limbs sae clean, 1 
Thy tempting lips, thy roguish een — 

By heaven and earth I love thee ! 

By night, by clay — a-field, at home — 
The thoughts of thee my breast inflame ' 
And aye I muse and sing thy name — 

I only live to love thee. 
Though I were doomed to wander on, 
Beyond the sea, beyond the sun, 
Till my last weary sand was run, 

Till then — and then I'll love thee. 

1 Finely formed. 

" week I on Paknassus hill." Mr. Stenhouse has the following Note upon this song and air : — " This song was 
written by Burns in 1789, on purpose for the Museum. It is adapted to the fine plaintive tune of ' My love is lost to 
me,' which was composed by Oswald, and published in the fifth volume of his Caledonian Pocket Companion, p. 25. 
Mrs. Burns is the lady alluded to by our poet." See Museum Illustrations, vol. iii. p. 241. J. G. Lockhart, Esq., in 
his Life of Burns, says, — " He brought his wife home to Elliesland about the end of November (1788); and few house- 
keepers start with a larger provision of young mouths to feed than did this couple. Mrs. Burns had lain-in this 
autumn, for the second time, of twins, and I suppose 'sonsy, smirking, dear-bought Bess,' accompanied her younger 
brothers and sisters from Mossgiel. From that quarter also Burns brought a whole establishment of servants, male 
and female, who, of course, as was then the universal custom amongst the small farmers, both of the west and of the 
south of Scotland, partook at the same table of the same fare with their master and mistress. Elliesland is beauti- 
fully situated on the banks of the Nith, about six miles above Dumfries, exactly opposite to the house of Dalswinton, 
and those noble woods and gardens amidst which Burns's landlord, the ingenious Mr. Patrick Miller, found relaxa- 
tion from the scientific studies and researches in which he so greatly excelled. . . . The poet was accustomed to say 
that the most happy period of his life was the first winter he spent at Elliesland, for the first time under a roof of his 
own, with his wife and children about him ; and in spite of occasional lapses into the melancholy which had haunted 
his youth, looking forward to a life of well-regulated, and not ill-rewarded industry. It is known that he welcomed 
his wife to her roof-tree at Elliesland, in the song, ' I ha'e a wife o' my ain, I'll partake wi' naebody,' &c." .... 
" Another song was composed in honour of Mrs. Burns, during the happy weeks that followed her arrival at Ellies- 
land — ' were I on Parnassus hill,' &c. In the next (the third) stanza, the poet rather transgresses the limits of 
connubial decorum ; but, on the whole, these tributes to domestic affection are among the last of his performances 
that one would wish to lose." Lockhart's Life of Burns, chap. vii. 











P q ^ 


bon - nie wood of Craig - ie - lea, Thou bon - nie wood of 

^^ r ^^ ^^ ^-#^ 


Craig -ie - lea, Near thee I pass'd life's ear - ly day, And won my Ma - ry's heart in thee. 








5 — ^1-^ 


The broom, the brier, the birk - en bush, Bloom bon - nie o'er thy flow' - ry lea ; And 

poco rail. 






the sweets that ane can wish Frae na - ture's hand, are strew'd on thee. 

The following stanzas begin at the sign :$: 

Far ben thy dark green plantings' shade, 
The cushat 1 croodles am'rously ; 

The mavis, down thy bughted glade, 

Gars echo ring frae ev'ry tree. 

Thou bonnie wood, &c. 

Awa', ye thoughtless, murd'ring gang, 
Wha tear the nestlings ere they flee! 

They'll sing you yet a canty sang, 
Then, in pity let them be ! 
Thou bonnie wood, &c. 

When winter blaws in sleety show'rs 
Frae aff the Norlan hills sae hie, 

He lightly skiffs thy bonnie bow'rs, 
As laith to harm a flow'r in thee. 
Thou bonnie wood, &c. 

Though fate should drag me south the line, 

Or o'er the wide Atlantic sea, 
The happy hours I'll ever mind, ^ 

That I in youth ha'e spent in thee. 
Thou bonnie wood, &c. 

1 Ringdove. 

" Thou bonnie wood of Craigie-lea." The words of this song were written by Robert Taunahill. The air, which 
has been very popular, was composed by James Barr, a professional musician in Kilbarchan, who afterwards went 
abroad. In a Bacchanalian song of Tannahill's, called " The Five Friends," James Barr is thus commemorated iu 
the fourth stanza : — 

" There is blythe Jamie Barr, frae St. Barchan's toun, 
When wit gets a kingdom, he's sure o' the crown ; 
And we're a' noddin', nid, nid, noddin', 
We're a' noddin' fu' at e'en. 

In " The Poems and Songs of Robert Tannahill." edited by Mr. Philip A. Ramsay, Glasgow, 1838, we find that 
R. A. Smith says of this air, — " It is a very pleasing and natural melody, and has become, most deservedly, a great 
favourite all over the West-Kintra side. I think this little ballad possesses considerable merit ; one of its stanzas 
strikes me as being particularly beautiful : — 

' When winter blaws in sleety stiow'rs,' &c. 

' Harp,' Essay, p. xxxvii. 

The scenery here so finely described, lies to the north-west of Paisley. Since Tannahill's time its beauty has been 
sadly impaired by the erection of a most unpoetical object, the gas-work." 








a. — ^_: — m — j . _i ^_? — «_ 



The bride she cam' out o' the byre, An', 0, as she dight-ed her cheeks, Sirs, 






I'm to be mar - ried the night, And ha'e nei - ther blank - ets nor sheets ; Ha'e 






nei - ther blank - ets nor sheets, Nor 

scarce a cov - er - let too, The 

p^E ^^^ m^^^r^ ^^^ 

bride that has a' to bor-row, Has e'en right muckle a - do. Woo'd and mar-riedand a', 



M—M — — m — j [_ s> 0—\ 

~* »~ 



Mar -ried and woo'd and a', And was nae she ve - ry weel off That was woo'd and mar-ried and a'. 

Out spake the bride's father, 

As he cam' in frae the pleugh ; 
0, haud your tongue, my dochter, 

And ye'se get gear eneugh ; 
The stirk stands i' th' tether, 

And our bra' bawsint yade, 1 
Will carry ye hame your coru — 

What wad ye be at, ye jade ? 

Woo'd and married and a', &c. 

Out spake the bride's mither, 

What deil needs a' this pride ? 
I had nae a plack in my pouch 

That night I was a bride ; 
My gown was linsy-woolsy, 

And ne'er a sark ava ; 
And ye ha'e ribbons and buskins, 

Mae than ane or twa. 

Woo'd and married and a', &c. 

Out spake the bride's brither, 

As he cam' in wi' the kye ; 
Poor Willie wad ne'er ha'e ta'eu ye 

Had he kent ye as weel as I ; 
For ye're baith proud and saucy, 

And no for a poor man's wife ; 
Gin I canna get a better, 

I'se ne'er tak' ane i' my life. 

Woo'd and married and a', &c. 

Out spake the bride's sister, 
As she cam' in frae the byre ; 

gin I were but married, 
It's a' that I desire : 

But we poor folk maun live single, 
And do the best that we can ; 

1 dinna care what I should want 
If I could get but a man. 

Woo'd and married and a', &c. 

1 Frecklefaced mare. 

" Woo'd and married and a'." Mr. Stenhouse's Note is as follows : — " This humorous old song was omitted by 
Ramsay in his Tea-Table Miscellany, in 1724, although it was quite current in the Border long before his time. 
Oswald inserted the tune, and Herd the words, in their respective collections. The following verses to the same air, 
in the genuine spirit of the original, were written by Mrs. Scott of Dumbartonshire." We have not room for these 
verses, which begin, " The grass had nae freedom o' growing," and extend to eight stanzas. Mr. Stenhouse con- 
tinues : " Mrs Grant of Laggan wrote an English parody of Mrs. Scott's song, which Mr. G. Thomson has inserted 
in his Collection, vol. iii." Mr Laing observes, that " Mr. Stenhouse, in his Illustrations, uniformly quotes Ramsay's 
Tea-Table Miscellany as having been published in 1724. The first volume certainly appeared at Edinburgh in that 
year ; but the second, third, and fourth volumes were published separately, in 24mo, at various intervals," &c. See 
Museum Illustrations, vol. i. pp. 6-8, and 108*. Mrs. Grant's song, above-mentioned, begins, " No house in the 
village could stow them." In this work, as in most other collections, the fourth stanza of the old words, beginning, 
" What's the matter, quo' Willie," is omitted on account of its coarseness. The melody, like some others pointed out 
in this work, passim, begins in a major key, and ends in its relative minor, a third below or a sixth above the tonic. 




' = 84 











— *^*-4 

The blude red rose at Yule may blaw, The aim - mer li - lies 


: ^=f3 



est seas, But an 


in snaw, 



may freeze 



is the thing you ne'er shall see, For an auld man shall ne - ver daun - ton me. 

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

His gear 1 may buy him kye and yowes, 
His gear may buy him glens and knowes ; 
But me he shall not buy nor fee, 
For an auld man shall never daunton me. 
To daunton me, &c. 

He hirples 5 twa-fauld as he dow, 
Wi' his teethless gab 8 and his auld beld pow, 
And the rain rains down frae his red blear'd e'e 
That auld man shall never daunton me. 
To daunton me, &c.* 

1 Riches. 

2 To walk lamely. 

3 Mouth. 

* This last stanza may as well be omitted in singing. 

" To daunton me." This air is to be found in Book I. of Oswald's Caledonian Pocket Companion, a work published 
in London not earlier probably than 1755, although 1740 is often incorrectly given as the date of its publication. 
The words, with the exception of a part of the chorus, were written by Burns, in 1787, for Johnson's Museum. From 
the illustrations to that work we quote the following Jacobite song, which is there said to have appeared " in a very 
rare and curious little book, entitled, ' A Collection of Loyal Songs, Poems, &c.,' printed in the year 1750, pp. 70 and 
71." As each stanza contains only six lines, it will be necessary, in singing it, to begin the air at this mark (*), so 
as to have four instead of eight bars in the first strain. 

To daunton me, to daunton me, 

Do you ken the things that would daunton me ? 

Eighty- eight and eighty-nine, 

And a' the dreary years since syne, 

With Cess, and Press, and Presbytry — 

Gude faith, these had liken to ha'e daunton'd me. 

But to wanton me, but to wanton me, 

Do you ken the things that would wanton me ? 

To see good corn upon the rigs, 

And banishment to a' the Whigs, 

And right restored where right should be ; 

! these are the things that would wanton me. 

But to wanton me, but to wanton me ; 
And ken ye what maist would wanton me ? 
To see King James at Edinbrough cross, 
With fifty thousand foot and horse, 
And the usurper forced to flee — 
this is what maist would wanton me ! 







.. oft V 



■ vrrb ' 

71 fl / * i 

' 1 1 l ^ 

fin * » J 


I A 

J J 

iw J I 

* m J ■• a 

£> d * 


* *^ 

There was 


born in Kyle, 


n^— ^- 






! =SE^EES=t* 



&— ^ 

what - na day, o' what - na style, I doubt its hard - ly worth the while To 





-*—•—* - 


^zz* — *- 

Ro - bin. 

be sae nice wi' 

For Ro - bhi 

f^ m^^m^ gEg^ 

rov - in' boy, 

rant - in', rov - in', ran - tin', rov - in', 







Ro - bin was a rov - in' boy ; O ran - tin', rov - in' 

Our monarch's hindmost year but ane 
Was five-and-twenty days begun, 
'Twas then a blast o' Janwar' win' 
Blew hansel in on Robin. 

For Robin was a rovin' boy, &c. 

He'll ha'e misfortunes great and sma', 
But ay a heart aboon them a'; 
He'll be a credit till us a', 
We'll a' be proud o' Robin. 

For Robin was a rovin' boy, &c. 

The gossip keekit ' in his loof, s 
Quo' scho, wha lives will see the proof, 
This wrly 3 boy will be nae coof, 4 
I think we'll ca' him Robin. 

For Robin was a rovin' boy, &c. 

But sure as three times three mak' nine, 
I see by ilka score and line, 
This chap will dearly like our kin', 
So leeze me on thee, Robin. 

For Robin was a rovin' boy, &c. 

1 Looked. 

2 Palm of the hand. 

8 Large, thriving. 

» Fool. 

"There was a Lad was born in Kyle." This song was written by Burns; but the sixth stanza is omitted for 
obvious reasons. The old air of " gin ye were dead, gudeman," consisted of one strain only. The second strain 
was taken from one of Oswald's variations of the original air, published in the fourth volume of his Caledonian Pocket 
Companion. The air nppears from evidence to be of an older date than 1549. 













U mount and go, Mount and make you rea-dv; O mount and go, And 






be the Cap - tain's la - dy. When the drums do beat, And the can - nous rat - tie, 







Tliou shalt sit in state, And see thy love in bat - tie. 

O mount and go, 





Mount and make you rea - dy ; O mount and go, AnJ « the Cap-tain's la - dy. 

The second verse begins at the mark ■$. 

When the vanquish'd foe 
Sues for peace and quiet, 
To the shades we'll go, 
And in love enjoy it. 
mount and go, &c. 

" mount and oo." Mr. Stenhouse's Note upon No. 233 of Johnson's Museum is as follows : — " ' The Captain's 
Lady.' This curious old air may be seen in Oswald's Caledonian Pocket Companion, and other collections, uDder the 
title of ' Mount your Baggage.' In the Caledonian Country-dance Book, published about a century ago, by John 
Walsh of London, it is called, ' The Cadie Laddie.' The verses in the Museum, beginning, '0 mount and go,' were 
communicated by Burns ; and although he does not acknowledge them, I have good reason to believe they were his 
own. The old ditty begins — 

I will away, 

And I will not tarry; 

I will away, 

And be a Captain's lady. 

A Captain's lady 

Is a dame of honour ; 

She has her maids 

Ay to wait upon her — 

To wait upon her, 

And get all things ready. 

I will away, 

And be a Captain's lady. 

In the third volume of Gow's Complete Repository, the reader will find the subject of this curious old melody, with a 
slight variation, transformed into a strathspey, called ' Dairy House.'" See Museum Illustrations, vol. iii. p. 219. 
The air given in Johnson, No. 233, consists, in the first strain, of three measures and three measures, of four crot- 
chets ; and the same rhythm goes on in the twelve measures of the second strain. Though airs in this kind of rhythm 
occur, it depends upon the places of the cadences, perfect or imperfect, whether or not the effect of the rhythm may be 
satisfactory to the ear. In this case, we think that the composer of the air has mistaken its true rhythm, and has 
thrown into common time, and a halting rhythm, what should have been written in triple time, with a regular rhythm 
of two measures and two measures. We refer to Johnson, No. 233. In Mr. R. A. Smith's Scottish Minstrel, vol. ii. 
p. 74, we find a version of the air, still in common time, in which the halting rhythm is maintained in the first strain, 
but is changed in the second strain into four measures of regular rhythm. Mr. Smith has thrown the air into six 
strains, of which the fourth is merely a variation of the first ; but we do not approve of these changes. In the present 
work the air has been thrown into J time ; the ritmo zoppicante of the original has thus been got rid of, and the 
effect rendered more satisfactory to both singer and hearer. 




» = ioo 




fl^lr-ft — pfcjzs 




ver yon hills of the hea - ther sae green, 



fe— x 

r- is k 








down by the Cor - rie that sings to the sea, The bon - nie young Flo - ra sat 







sigh - ing her lane, The dew on her plaid an' the tear in her e'e. 









/ < 

look'd at a boat wi* the breez-es that swung, A - way on the wave, like a 



-» — 




bird of the main ; An* ay 



it less - en'd she sigh'd an* she sung, " Fare ■ 
con energia. 









weel to the lad I shall ne'er see a - gain ; Fare - weel to my he - ro, the 

H? u r - J J -i- p> — ^^F 


^f-* — j — *- 

- lant and 


Fare - weel to the lad I shall ne'er see 


The moorcock that crows on the brows o' Ben-Connal, 

He kens o' his bed in a sweet mossy hame ; 
The eagle that soars o'er the cliffs o' Clan-Ronald, 

Unawed and unhunted his eyrie can claim ; 
The solan can sleep on the shelve of the shores ; 

The cormorant roost on his rock of the sea ; 
But, ah ! there is one whose hard fate I deplore, 

Nor house, ha', nor hame in his country has he ; 
The conflict is past, and our name is no more, 

There's nought left but sorrow for Scotland an' me ! 

The target is torn from the arm of the just, 

The helmet is cleft on the brow of the brave, 
The claymore for ever in darkness must rust ; 

But red is the sword of the stranger and slave : 
The hoof of the horse, and the foot of the proud, 

Have trode o'er the plumes on the bonnet of blue : 
Why slept the red bolt in the breast of the cloud 

"When tyranny revell'd in blood of the true? 
Fareweel, my young hero, the gallant and good! 

The crown of thy fathers is torn from thy brow. 

" Far over ton hills." James Hogg, in his second series of Jacobite Relics, gives this song and air as " The 
Lament of Flora Macdonald," with the following note : — " I got the original of these verses from my friend Mr. Niel 
Gow, who told me they were a translation from the Gaelic, but so rude that he could not publish them, which he 
wished to do on a single sheet, for the sake of the old air. On which I versified them anew, and made them a great 
deal better without altering one sentiment." In his " Songs," collected in 1831, Hogg reprints this under the title 
of " Flora Macdonald's Farewell," headed by the following note : — " Was composed to an air handed me by the late 
lamented Niel Gow, junior. He said it was an ancient Skye air, but afterwards told me it was his own. When I 
first heard the song sung by Mr. Morison, I never was so agreeably astonished, — I could hardly believe my senses 
that I had made so good a song without knowing it." In both these notes, the Shepherd's self-complacency is very 











ncath a green 





love - ly yuung swain One 



clin'd, to dis 


pain : 



: ? 









— * — *- 

sweet -ly, 


war - bled 



wind ceas'd to breathe, and the 






foun - tains to 


Rude winds, with com 

gjjjg i 

pas - sion, could hear him com 






Chlo - e 







How happy, he cried, my moments once flew, 

Ere Chloe's bright charms first flash'd in my view ! 

'J hose eyes then with pleasure the dawn could survey ; 

Nor smil'd the fair morning more cheerful than they. 

Now scenes of distress please only my sight ; 

I'm tortured in pleasure, and languish in light. 

Through changes in vain relief I pursue, 
All, all but conspire my griefs to renew ; 
From sunshine to zephyrs and shades we repair — 
To sunshine we fly from too piercing an air , 
But love's ardent fever burns always the same, 
No winter can cool it, no summer inflame. 

But see the pale moon, all clouded, retires ; 

The breezes grow cool, not Strephon's desires : 

I fly from the dangers of tempest and wind, 

Yet nourish the madness that preys on my mind. 

Ah, wretch ! how can life thus merit thy care ? 

Since lengthening its moments, but lengthens despair. 

1 Also spelled Ballendyne and Ballendine ; pronounced B:tllendeau. 

" Beneath a green shade." The words were written by Thomas Blacklock, D.D., to the tune of " The Braes of 
Balleuden." This air has been by some erroneously ascribed to James Oswald, in the fifth volume of whose Cale- 
donian Pocket Companion it appeared ; but without any claim from Oswald to its authorship, by means of the 
asterism affixed to his own compositions in the Index to that work. It appears that the famous Italian singer, Giusto 
Ferdinando Tenducci, who arrived in Edinburgh on 15th May 1758, and resided there for some time, used to sing 
" The Braes of Ballenden," and other Scottish songs, with charming effect. These "braes" lie towards the Sidlaw 
Hills, in the Carse of Cowrie. 



f = 76 









^ ^^^ =g EE g 



s ^^a g^^^s 

leave rae not ! the ev' - ning hour, So soft, so still, is 



dew de - spends on 

tree and flow'r, They 









breathe their sweets for 


a - lone. 


not yet ! 





ning star, The 

ing moon, 



thee stay; And 

j^lllilll^i^ B^ lpSi 

dy - ing e - choes, faint and far, In - vile our ling' - ring steps to stray. 

Far from the city's noisy din, 

Beneath the pale moon's trembling light, 
That lip to press — those smiles to win — 

Will lend a rapture to the night. 
Let fortune fling her favours free 

To whom she will, I'll ne'er repine, — 
0, what is all the world to me, 

While thus I clasp and call thee mine ? 

" leave me not." The air, " 'I love my love in secret,' is (says Mr. Stenhouse) inserted in Mrs. Crockat's MSS. 
written in 1709." It appears in the Collections of M'Gibbon and Oswald. The two songs given to it in Johnson's 
Museum are both indifferent. The very pretty song which we have selected is found on page 297 of "Rambling 
Rhymes," by Alexander Smart, new edition, Edinburgh, 1845, dedicated to Lord Jeffrey. Mr. Smart is a native of 
Montrose. He was first a clock and watch-maker, but this sedentary occupation disagreeing with his health, he 
became a letterpress printer. His "Rambling Rhymes" are thus characterized in a kind letter to him from Lord 
Jeffrey : — " I had scarcely read any of your little book when I acknowledged receipt of it. I have now, however, 
gone through every word of it, and find I have more to thank you for than I was then aware of. I do not allude so 
much to the very flattering sonnet you have been pleased to inscribe with my name, as to the many passages of great 
poetical beauty, and to the still greater number expressive of (and inspired by) those gentle affections, and just and 
elevated sentiments, which it is so delightful to find in the works of persons of the middling class, on whose time the 
calls of a necessary, and often laborious, industry must press so heavily. I cannot tell you the pride and the pleasure 
I have in such indications, not of cultivated intellect only, but of moral delicacy and elegant taste, in the tradesmen 
and artisans of our country ; and you will readily understand, therefore, both why I feel obliged to you for this new 
and remarkable proof of them, and disposed to do anything iu my power to gratify and serve those in whom you take 
an interest." One of the songs given to this air, No. 204 of Johnson's Museum, was slightly altered by Burns from an 
old song. We subjoin the first four lines of the first stanza, which will justify our preference of Mr. Smart's words : — 

" My Sandy gied to me a ring 

Was a' beset wi' diamonds fine ; 
But I gied him a far better thing, 

I gied my heart in pledge o' his ring." 






AlB, " 'STU MO RUN." 








the path to glo 

ry ! 

Thick yon ban - ners 





meet the sky ! O, my Geov - die, death's be - fore ye ! Turn and hear my 






bod - ing cry. Joy of my heart, Geor - die, hear me ! 2 Joy of my heart, 'Stu mo Run ! 

Turn and see thy tartan plaidie 

Rising o'er my breaking heart ; 
my bonnie Highland laddie ! 
Wae was I with thee to part ! 

Joy of my heart, &c. 
But thou bleeds ! — bleeds thou, beauty ? 

Swims thine eye in wo and pain ? 
Child of Honour ! child of Duty ! 
Shall we never meet again ? 

Joy of my heart, &c. 
1 Qrig., Bloody red. 

Yes, my darling, on thy pillow 

Soon thy head shall easy lie ; 

Soon upon the sounding billow 

Shall thy war-worn standard fly ! 

Joy of my heart, &c. 

Then, again, thy tartan plaidie, 

Then my bosom, free from pain, 
Shall receive my Highland laddie, — 
Never shall we part again ! 

Joy of my heart, &c. 
3 Ong., Agara. 3 My own. 

" Red, ked is the path to glory." The air and the words are from the second volume of " Albyn's Anthology," 
published by Alexander Campbell in 1818, pp. 22, 23. Mr. Campbell's note, p. 23, is as follows : — " Communicated 
by the learned and ingenious Dr. Robert Couper, late of Fochabers, who wrote the above stanzas to this beautiful old 
Highland melody, while his friend, the Marquis of Huntly, was wounded in Holland, anno 1799." R. A. Smith, in 
his Scottish Minstrel, vol. v. p. 84, says, " Lady G. Gordon picked up this beautiful air in the Highlands. The 
verses were written by Dr. Couper, at her desire, on the Marquis of Huntly when in Holland." 

We take this opportunity of quoting some passages regarding airs of the Highlands of Scotland, which may be not 
unacceptable to our Southern neighbours, who are but little acquainted with that music. The Rev. Patrick M'Donald, 
Minister of Kilmore in Argyleshire, in his Preface to his Collection of Highland Airs, published in 1781, says : — " In 
the Highlands of Scotland, the harp has long ceased to be the favourite instrument ; and, for upwards of a century, 
has been seldom heard. The encouragement of the people has been transferred to the bagpipe, an instrument more 
congenial to the martial spirit of the country." Prefixed to the same collection is a Dissertation written by the Rev. 
Walter Young, Minister of Erskine in Renfrewshire. Dr. Young says : — " Over all the Highlands there are various 
songs, which are sung to airs suited to the nature of the subject. But on the western coast, benorth Middle Lorn, 
and in all the Hebrides, luinigs are most in request. These are in general very short, and of a plaintive cast, analo- 
gous to their best poetry ; and they are sung by the women, not only at their diversions, but also during almost 
every kind of work where more than one person is employed, as milking cows, and watching the folds, fulling of 
cloth, grinding of grain with the quern or hand-mill, hay-making, and cutting down corn. The men, too, have 
iorrums, or songs for rowing, to which they keep time with their oars, as the women likewise do in their operations, 
whenever their work admits of it. When the same airs are sung in their hours of relaxation, the time is marked by the 
motions of a napkin, which all the performers lay hold of. In singing, one person leads the baud ; but in a certain part 
of the tune he stops to take breath, while the rest strike in and complete the air, pronouncing to it a chorus of words 
and syllables generally of no signification. These songs generally animate every person present ; and hence, when 
labourers appear to flag, a Ivinig is called for, which makes them for a time forget their toil, and work with redoubled 
ardour. In travelling through the remote Highlands in harvest, the sound of these little bands on every side, ' warb- 
ling their native wood-notes wild,' joined to a most romantic scenery, has a very pleasing effect on the mind of a 
stranger. This is a practice both agreeable and useful ; it alleviates labour, and preserves regularity and uniformity 

of application. Indeed, the most polished nations might imitate it with advantage Like the other peculiarities 

of the Highlanders, the custom of singing these songs regularly at work is declining apace, especially in the eastern 
countries, and the districts which have much intercourse with the Lowlanders. Yet, less than a century ago, it was 
practised by their forefathers. However wild and artless some of the luinigs may be, and however ill others of them 
are sung by the common people, yet a number of beautiful original ones may still be collected in the Highlands. The 
greater part of them appear to be adapted to the harp, an instrument which was once in high estimation." Pp. 10, 11. 




: 69 




Come un-der my plaid -ie, the night's gaun to i'a ? ; Come in frae the cauld blast, tlie 





drift, an' the snaw; Come un - der my plaid - ie, and sit down be - side me, There's 


;. — s 



room in't, dear las - sie, be - lieve me, iur twa. 




Come un - der my plaid - ie, ami 

izzztr. — *- 

i z tzTj^ Sd 



sit down be - side me, I'll hap ye frae ev* - ry cauld blast that can blaw ; Come 


fr N^\=qv=^ 

J 9 1- 

un-der my plaid -ie, and sit down be- side me, There's romn in t. dear las - sie, be - lieve me, for twa. 


Gae 'wi wi' your plaidie ! auld Donald, gae 'wa ; 

I fear na the cauld blast, the drift, nor the snaw ! 

Gae 'wa wi' your plaidie ! I'll no sit beside ye ; 

Ye might be my gutcher !' auld Donald, gae 'wa. 

I'm gaun to meet Johnnie — he's young, and he's bonnie, 

He's been at Meg's bridal, fu' trig 2 and fu' braw ! 

Nane dances sae lichtly, sae gracefu', or tichtly, 

His cheek's like the new rose, his brow's like the snaw ! 

Dear Marion, let that flee stick fast to the wa' ; 
Your Jock's but a gowk, 8 and has naething ava ; 
The haill o' his pack he has now on his back ; 
He's thretty, and I am but three score and twa. 
Be frank now and kindly — I'll busk 4 ye aye finely, 
To kirk or to market there'll few gang sae braw ; 
A bien house to bide in, a chaise for to ride in, 
And flunkies 5 to 'tend ye as aft as ye ca\ 

My father aye tell'd me, my mither and a', 
Ye'd mak' a gude husband, and keep me aye braw ; 
It's true I lo'e Johnnie, he's gude and he's bonnie, 
But wae's me ! ye ken he has naething ava ! 

I ha'e little tocher, you've made a gude offer, 
I'm now rnair than twenty, my time is but sma', 
Sae gi'e rne your plaidie, I'll creep in beside ye. 
I thought ye'd been aulder than threescore and twa. 

She crap in ayont him, beside the stane wa', 
Whar Johnnie was list'niu', and heard her tell a' ; 
The day was appointed, his proud heart it dunted, 
And struck 'gainst his side as if burstin' in twa. 
He wander'd hame weary, the night it was dreary ; 
And thowless, he tint his gate deep 'maug the snaw ; 
The howlet was screamin', while Johnnie cried " Women 
Wad marry auld Nick, if he'd keep them aye braw !" 

" the deil's in the lasses ! they gang now sae bra'. 
They'll lie down wi' auld men o' fourscore and twa ; 
The haill o' their marriage, is gowd and a carriage, 
Plain love is the cauldest blast now that can blaw ! 
But lo'e them I canna, nor marry I winna, 
Wi' ony daft lassie, though fair as a queen ; 
Till love ha'e a share o't, the never a hair o't, 
Shall gang in my wallet at morning or e'en." 

1 Grandfather. 

5 Livery servants. 

" Come under my PLAiniE." Mr. Stenhouse has the following note upon this song : — " This fine ballad is another 
production of my late friend, Hector Macneil, Esq., who has frequently been noticed in the course of this work. It is 
adapted to a lively air called ' Johnnie M'Gill,' after the name of its composer, Mr. John M'Gill, who was a musician 
in Girvan, Ayrshire. Burns likewise wrote some verses to the same tune, which are inserted in the third volume of 
the Museum. Vide Notes on Song No. 207." See Museum Illustrations, vol. vi. p. 467. 




• = 92 


AIR, "T1JE OAKDIn' o't." 


^g ^ESSfe 


1/ -^ 

On Cess - nock bunks there lives a lass. Could I de- scribe her 




and mien ; 



ces of 



weel - faurd face, 

And the 


=J— f^ 


— — 

— * 1 


* J J 2 


glan - cin' of her spark - lin' een ! She's spot - less as the 




fluw'r - ing thorn, With flow'rs so white and leaves so green, When 






■0 #— 

pur - eat in the dew - y morn ; An' she's twa glan - cin' spark - lin' een ! 

She's stately like yon youthful ash, 
That grows the cowslip braes between, 

And shoots its head above each bush ; 
An' she's twa glancin' sparklin' een. 

Her looks are like the sportive lamb, 
When flow'ry May adorns the scene, 

That wantons round its bleating dam ; 
An' she's twa glancin' sparklin' een. 

Her hair is like the curling mist 

That shades the mountain side at e'en, 

When flow'r-reviving rains are past ; 
An' she's twa glancin' sparklin' een. 

Her forehead's like the show'ry bow, 
When shining sunbeams intervene. 

And gild the distant mountain's brow ; 
An' she's twa glancin' sparklin' een. 

Her voice is like the ev'ning thrush 
That sings in Cessnock banks unseen, 

While his mate sits nestling in the bush ; 
An' she's twa glancin' sparklin' een. 

But it's not her air, her form, her face, 
Tho' matching beauty's fabled queen, 

But the mind that shines in ev'ry grace, 
An' chiefly in her sparklin' een. 

" On Cesshock Banks theiie lives a Lass." The air is said by Mr. Stenhouse to be " a lively old Scotch measure, 
called ' Salt Fish and Dumplings ;' " but he does not mention where else it is to be found but in Johnson's Museum. 
It appears there, No 437, with two stanzas of very indifferent words by Burns, beginning, " I coft a stane o' haslock 
woo'," with a chorus, " The cardin' o't, the spinnin' o't," &c. The words we have adopted were written by Burns at 
a date not now ascertainable. In the beautiful edition of Burns's Works, published by Messrs Blackie and Son of 
Glasgow, in 1844, the note given upon the song, vol. ii. p. 12, is as follows : — " Cromek recovered this song from the 
oral communication of a lady in Glasgow, whom the bard early in life affectionately admired. He adds, that it is an 
early production. It contains more of simile than of passion. The young poet was perhaps desirous to display his 
ingenuity in likening the object of his affection to the most pleasing objects in nature : he called to mind the fresh- 
ness of the morning dawn, and the twinkling of the dew-drop upon the lawn — the fragrant breeze of evening gently 
stirring the blossomed bean — the stateliness of the young ash — the spotless purity of the flowering hawthorn — the 
innocence of the sportive lambkin — and the sweet notes of the thrush as he cheers his mate with his evening song — 
and to each of these he found a corresponding quality in the lass of Cessnock Banks. Who she was is not known." 
In Messrs. Blackie's " Book of Scottish Song," p. 116, they give a version of " Cessnock Banks" from the edition of 
Burns by Pickering, who offers it as " from the author's own manuscript." The version there printed is rather 
lengthy for a song, as it consists of thirteen stanzas; therefore we have adopted the shorter song given in their edition 
of Burns's Works above cited, although even that is too long for singing, and has been shortened by omitting two 







ifa d t-r - u 




tlie burn, sweet Bet - ty, 






cauld win - ter night, 


S^gg^ ^g 


— © — 


thun - ders, 



g> es 





It's a* for tli 


1 hat 




o' sweet Bet • ty 



my way ; 

O las - sie, 








sit be - side thee, Un - til it he 



It's Betty shall bake ray bread, 

And Betty shall brew my ale ; 
And Betty shall be my love, 

When I come o'er the dale. 
Blink o'er the burn, sweet Betty, 

Blink o'er the burn to me ; 
And while I ha'e life, my dear lassie, 

My ain sweet Betty thou's be. 

" Blink o'er the born, sweet Betty." We have adopted the old words of the song, instead of those written by 
Joseph Mitchell, and published with the air in Johnson's Scottish Musical Museum. The seventh line of the first 
stanza contains, in the original, a phrase which is unsuitable to modern taste, and which we have therefore altered. 
It has been stated that the first line of the song, " Blink o'er the burn, sweet Betty," is quoted by Shakespeare in 
King Lear : but we do not find there these ipsissima verba, though we find in Act III. Scene 6, Edgar saying, 

" Wantest thou eyes at trial, madam ? 
Come o'er the bourn, Bessy, to me." 

With regard to the air, Mr. Stenhouse says nothing of its probable age, nor does he note the discrepancies that are 
to be found in various versions of it. For example, in the third volume of Watts' Musical Miscellany, 1730, we find 
the air in a different shape from that given to it in Johnson. In Watts the passages are smooth, and have noue of 
" the Scotch snajys" (see p. 94 of this work) found in Johnson. Nor are these " Scotch snaps" found in the versions 
of the air given by Oswald and M'Gibbon. Again, the word " burn" cannot be sung as one syllable to the passages 
given in Johnson and M'Gibbon, while it perfectly suits the single note (a minim) corresponding to it in Oswald's 
version of the air. We have, therefore, adopted Oswald's passage, and merely smoothed away the "snaps" in John- 
son, without altering the real notes. 



•• =84 





nil m f- 


-d * * *~ 

: =>V 

The Camp - beils are com - in', O 


- ho ! 



Camp - beils are com 

O - ho, 

O - lio ! The Camp - hells are com - in' 






nie Loch - le - ven ; The Camp - bells are com - in,' 


- ho! 








* / 

■v — v- 

on the Lo-momlst lay, I lay, Up - on the Lo-mondsl lay, I lay, I 



-t— -9— Fr - 



* * 

look - ed down to bon - nie Loch - le - ven, And saw three bon - nie per - ches play. 

The Great Argyle, he goes before, 

He makes the cannons and guns to roar ; 

Wi' sound o' trumpet, pipe, and drum, 
The Campbells are comin', 0-ho, 0-ho ! 
The Campbells are comin', &c. 

The Campbells they are a' in arms, 
Their loyal faith and truth to show ; 

Wi' banners rattling in the wind, 
The Campbells are comin', 0-ho, 0-ho ! 
The Campbells are comin', &c. 

"The Campbells ake comin', 0-ho, 0-ho ! " Mr. Stenhouse's Note on this (No. 299 of Museum) is as follows : — 
" In the index to the third volume of the Museum, this song is said to have been composed on the imprisonment of 
the unfortunate Mary Queen of Scots, in the Castle of Lochleven, in 1567. The Earl of Argyle was on the Queen's 
party at the battle of Langsidt, in 1568, and, perhaps, the tune may have been the Campbells' quick-march for two 
centuries past ; but. nevertheless, the words of the song contain intrinsic evidence that it is not much above a century 
old. In all probability it was written about the year 1715, on the breaking out of the rebellion in the reign of 
George I., when John Campbell, the great Duke of Argyle, was made Commander-in-chief of his Majesty's Forces in 
North Britain, and was the principal means of its total suppression. I have seen the tune, however, in several old 
collections " See Museum Illustrations, vol. iii. pp. 291, 292. See also the song, " The Clans are coming," in Hogg's 
second series of Jacobite Relics, and his note upon it, p. 289. We subjoin one from the first volume of James Aird's 
Selection of Airs, published at Glasgow about 1784. Another, slightly different, is found in Part I. of Gow and Son's 
Complete Repository. 











^fefe ^f ^ E^j 




• = 60 

IESTO. ■ (()) 4 ^ . * * 



* 1 



O speed, Lord Niths - dale, speed ye fast, Sin' ye maun frae your 

thine and thee. 

Thy la - dy sits in lone - ly bower, And fast the tear fa's 






*-*—.— *r 


frae her e'e ; And aye she sighs, O blaw ye winds, And bear Lord Nithsdale far frae me. 

Her heart, sae wae, was like to break, 

While kneeling by the taper bright ; 
But ae red drap cam' to her cheek, 

As shone the morning's rosy light. 
Lord Nithsdale's bark she mot na see, 

Winds sped it swiftly o'er the main ; 
" ill betide," quoth that fair dame, 

" Wha sic a comely knight had slain !" 

Lord Nithsdale loved wi' mickle love ; 

But he thought on his countrie's wrang ; 
And he was deeni'd a traitor syne, 

And forc'd frae a' he loved to gang. 
" Oh ! I will gae to my loved lord, 

He may na smile, I trow, bot 1 me ;" 
But hame, and ha', and bonnie bowers, 

Nae mair will glad Lord Nithsdale's e'e. 

1 Bot, without ; as in the old motto, " Touch not the cut bot a glove." 

" speed, Lord Nithsdale, speed ye fast." These verses were written, about the year 1820, by Robert Allan, a 
poetical weaver of Kilbarchan, in Renfrewshire. Allan was a friend of R. A. Smith, for whom he wrote a number of 
songs, some of which appeared in the Scottish Minstrel, and other musical publications. He died at New York, U.S., 
on 7th June 1841, eight clays after his arrival there. Like other poets, he was often in difficulties ; and, in order to 
relieve him upon one occasion, a little piece of curious mystification was practised on the publisher of the Scottish 
Minstrel by R. A. Smith, with the assistance of a rather celebrated poet. The mystification was entirely successful, 
and the result is very naively narrated by Smith in a letter to his friend. As to the air, it is, in the Scottish Minstrel, 
merely called " Lord Nithsdale;" the author is unknown. It bears some resemblance to " Waly. waly." The soDg 
alludes to the escape of Maxwell, Earl of Nithsdale, who was deeply involved in the rebellion of 1715. The first Earl 
of Nithsdale (or Nithisdale) was created in 1581. The last forfeited the title in 1715. Sir Walter Scott thus describes 
Nithsdale's escape : — " Lady Nithisdale, the bold and affectionate wife of the condemned Earl, having iu vain thrown 
herself at the feet of the reigning monarch, to implore mercy for her husband, devised a plan for his escape of the 
same kind with that since practised by Madame Lavalette. She was admitted to see her husband in the Tower upon 
the last day, which, according to his sentence, he had to live. She had with her two female confidants. One brought 
on her person a double suit of female clothes. This individual was instantly dismissed, when relieved of her second 
dress. The other person gave her own clothes to the Earl, attiring herself in those which had been provided. Muffled 
in a riding-hood and cloak, the Earl, in the character of lady's-maid, holding a handkerchief to his eyes, as one over- 
whelmed with deep affliction, passed the sentinels, and being safely conve3 T ed out of the Tower, made his escape to 
France. So well was the whole thing arranged, that after accompanying her husband to the door of the prison, Lady 
Nithisdale returned to the chamber from whence her Lord had escaped, and played her part so admirably as to give 
him full time to get clear of the sentinels, and then make her own exit. We are startled to find that, according to the 
rigour of the law, the life of the heroic Countess was considered as responsible for that of the husband whom she had 
saved ; but she contrived to conceal herself."— History of Scotland. 








m^^m m^m 

When Phce - bus bright the a - zure skies With gold - eii rajs 






m- — h 


light' - neth, He makes all na - ture's beau - ties rise, Herbs, trees, and flovf'rs In 

^= H— m ^ 



s - 

quick' - neth : A - mongst all those he makes his choice, And with de - light 

vrr h=&=g^& 








-=--= \/ 

tho - row, With ra-diant beams the sil - ver streams O'er Lead - er Haughs and Yar - row. 

When Aries the day and night 

In equal length divideth, 
Auld frosty Saturn takes his flight, 

Nae langer he abideth ; 
Then Flora, queen, with mantle green, 

Casts off her former sorrow, 
And vows to dwell with Ceres' sel', 

On Leader Haughs and Yarrow. 

Pan playing on his aiten reed, 

And shepherds him attending, 
Do here resort their flocks to feed, 

The hills and haughs commending. 
With cur and kent ' upon the bent, 

Sing to the sun good-morrow, 
And swear nae fields mair pleasure yields, 

Then Leader Haughs and Yarrow. 

An house there stands on Leader-side, 

Surmounting my descriving, 
With rooms sae rair, and windows fair, 

Like Dasdalus' contriving ; 

Men passing by do often cry, 
In sooth it hath nae marrow, 

It stands as sweet on Leader-side, 
As Newark does on Yarrow. 

A mile below, wha lists to ride, 

They'll hear the mavis singing, 
Into Saint-Leonard's banks she'll bide, 

Sweet birks her head o'erhanging ; 
The lintwhite 2 loud, and Progne proud, 

With tuneful throats and narrow, 
Into Saint-Leonard's banks they sing 

As sweetly as on Yarrow. 

The lapwing lilteth o'er the lee, 

With nimble wing she sporteth, 
But vows she'll flee fi-ae tree to tree, 

Where Philomel resorteth : 
By break of day the lark can say, 

I'll bid you a good-morrow, 
I'll streek my wing, and, mounting, sing, 

O'er Leader Hauprhs and Yarrow. 

> Shepherd's staff. 

2 Linnet 

" When Phujbus bright the azure skies." In Johnson's Museum the song given to the air of " Leader Haughs 
and Yarrow," is taken from Ramsay's Tea-Table Miscellany, where it appeared, anonymously, under the title of 
Sweet Susan. It begins, " The morn was fair, saft was the air," but has no great merit, and is destitute of the 
curious local interest of names and habitations belonging to the district celebrated in the old ballad, which is still 
sung in the south of Scotland. We have therefore given the old ballad. As it is too long for singing, in ordinary 
cases, half of the stanzas have been omitted. Mr. Stenhouse says in his Note, " Both the old ballad of ' Leader 
Haughs and Yarrow' and the tune are said to be the composition of Nicol Burn, a Border minstrel, who flourished 
about the middle of the sixteenth century." Mr. D. Laing observes, "There is no evidence for giving 'Minstrel Burn' 
the Christian name of Nicol, or making him flourish about the middle of the sixteenth century. His ballad belongs 
to the first half, or perhaps the middle of the following century. Mr. S. evidently had confounded him with Nicol 
Burne, a Roman Catholic Priest," &c. See Museum Illustrations, vol. iii. pp. 203, 298*. The air, as given in Johnson's 
Museum, has certain ornamental flourishes that spoil its simplicity. We have rather followed, in genera!, the version 
given by William Napier in his Second Selection of Scots Songs, 1792. 



» = 50 








Saw ye nae my Peg - gie, Saw ye nae my Peg - gie, 

=r-?-r-tTT-r-*-i- =t = — H =*=?3 
-4-- u Ls > -/ - ^ rg^i- FS — i ^* 9 «-* 








ye nae my Peg - gie com - ing o'er the lea ? Sure a fin - er crea - ture 

4 f # 

Ip^g^^l gpi Si 


Ne'er was form'd by na- ture, So cum - plete each fra - ture, So di-vine is she. 

0, how Peggie charms me ! 
Ev'ry look still warms me, 
Ev'ry thought alarms me, 
Lest she love not me. 

Peggie doth discover 
Nought but charms all over ; 
Nature bids me love her — 
That's a law to me. 

Who would leave a lover 
To become a rover? 
No, I'll ne'er give over, 
Till I happy be 1 

For since love inspires me, 
And her beauty fires me, 
And her absence tires me, 
Nought can please but she. 

When I hope to gain her, 
Fate seems to detain her ; 
Could I but obtain her 
Happy would I be ! 

I'll lie down before her, 
Bless, sigh, and adore her ; 
With faint looks implore her, 
Till she pity me ! 

" Saw ye nae my Peggie?" Burns, in his Remarks on Scottish Song, says of this one : — " This charming song is 
much older, and indeed superior to Ramsay's verses, ' The Toast,' as he calls them. There is another set of the words 
much older still, and which I take to be the original one ; but though it has a very great deal of merit, it is not 
quite ladies' reading. The original words, for they can scarcely be called verses, are still older, and arc familiar, 
from the cradle, to every Scottish ear. 

' Saw ye my Maggie, High kilted was she, 

Saw ye my Maggie, Her coat aboon her knee. 

Saw ye my Maggie ,,,, , , , „, 

_.,.,, , , „ What mark has your Maggie, 

Linkin o er the lea? „., . , , ,, . 

What mark has your Maggie, 

High kilted was she, What mark has your Maggie, 

High kilted was she, That ane may ken her be?' &c. 

Though it by no means follows that the silliest verses to an air must, for that reason, be the original song, yet I take 
this ballad, of which I have quoted part, to be the old verses. The two songs in Ramsay, one of them evidently his 
own, are never to be met with in the fireside circle of our peasantry, while that which I take to be the old song is in 
every shepherd's mouth. Ramsay, I suppose, had thought the old verses unworthy of a place in his Collection." 

Mr. Stenhouse says, in his Note upon this song and air, No. 11 of Johnson's Museum : — " In Ramsay's Tea-Table 
Miscellany we find his song, called ' The Toast,' to the same tune, ' Saw ye my Peggy ?' but he left out both of the old 
songs under this title to which Burns alludes. The first of these two songs is still extant, but the words are not fit 
to be sung in a drawing-room. The other, which is likewise older than Ramsay's time, was not inserted in any 
regular collection of Scottish sqngs till that of David Herd in 1769, from whence it was copied into Johnson's Museum. 
The melody, however, is inserted in the old manuscript music-book, in the editor's possession, before alluded to, and 
was also printed in the first edition of the Orpheus Caledonius, 1725." We must remark that "the old manuscript 
music-book" which Mr. Stenhouse so often refers to as being in his possession, is never particularly described. This 
seems an unaccountable omission. We do not know what became of Mr. Stenhouse's library after his death. Per- 
haps it may strike the reader that this air, " Saw ye nae my Peggie?" bears resemblance in its second strain to 
" Peggie, now the kiDg's come." The two last strains of the air, as given in Johnson's Museum, and other works, 
have been omitted, because we consider them to be mere modern additions of no great merit. 







4= * — d d + 




O gin I were where Ga - die rins, Where Ga - die rins, when 





die rins. 



I were where Ga - die rins, By the foot o' Ben - na 





—j- -_j- — . — _^- — „ — _ 

cbie. I've roam'd by Tweed, I've roam'd by Tay, By bor - der Nith and 

b- B-r; ~ 






-fr— E-J 


High-land Spey, But dear - er far to me than they, The braes o' Ben - na - chie ! O 



fr=&=g_# — m-T- 

gin I were where Ga - die rins, Where Ga - die rins, where Ga - die rins, O 





gin I were where Ga - die rins, By the font o' Ben - na 

The other stanzas commence at the sign :0: 

chie ! 

When simmer cleads the varied scene 
Wi' licht o' gowd and leaves o' green, 
I fain wad be where aft I've been — 
At the foot o' Bennachie ! 
gin I were, &c. 

When winter winds blaw sharp and shrill, 

O'er icy burn and sheeted hill, 

The ingle neuk is gleesome still 

At the foot o' Bennachie ! 

gin I were, &c. 

Though few to welcome me remain ; 
Though a' I loved are dead and gane ; 
I'll back, though I should live alane, 
To the foot o' Bennachie ! 
gin I were, &c. 

" gin I were where Gadie rins." The words of this song were written by John Imlah, a native of Aberdeenshire, 
who, for many years, was one of the tuners and confidential travellers of Messrs. Broadwood of London. In 1845 he 
went to Jamaica to visit his brother, whom he had not seen since their boyhood ; but was seized with fever a few weeks 
after his arrival, and died there on 9th January 1846. He published a volume of Songs and Poems, titled " May 
Flowers," in 1822, in which occurs a first version of the above song ; and, in 1841, published another volume of Poems 
and Songs, from which we have extracted the words here given, omittiDg the third and fifth stanzas of the song. He 
contributed a good many songs to " Whistle Binkie," and to Messrs. Blackie's " Book of Scottish Song." The air has 
been long popular in the districts of Mar and the Garioch, according to the Rev. James Peters, who writes the account 
of the parish of Leslie, Aberdeenshire, in the new Statistical Account of Scotland. Mr. James Davie, Teacher of 
Music in Aberdeen, states that when he was a boy, nearly seventy years ago, he often heard his father play the air 
on the bellows-bagpipes, and that it was then no new air, and was named, " Where Gadie rins." He adds that he 
has seen the air, in an old printed Collection, under the title of " The Hessians' March." We have not been able to 
find a copy of that book. The Rev. Mr. Peters, in the Account above mentioned, gives an interesting anecdote of the 
song " Where Gady rins," as connected with one of the captures of Pondicherry ; probably that of 1793. We think 
that the air has the character of a military quick step, and not of a song-tune, wheresoever it may have been com- 
posed. The Gadie, or Gady, is a streamlet that runs through the fertile valleys of Garioch, or Geary, and takes the 
name of Cry before it joins the Don, a little below the town of Inverury. 



: G8 







S JpggE 

It's up wi' the Sou - ters o' Sel - kirk, And down wi' the 



^ * — — j. h 


o' Hume ; And here is to 

a' the braw lad - dies, That 

_it , 


wear the sin - gle soled shoon. 

It's up wi' 







Sel - kirk, For they are baith trus - ty and leal ; And up wi' the 




- & m n 






For - est,' And down wi' the Merse 3 to the deil. 

It's fye upon yellow and yellow, 

And fye upon yellow and green ; 
But up wi' the true blue and scarlet, 

And up wi' the single soled shoou. 
It's up wi' the Souters o' Selkirk, 

For they are baith trusty and leal ; 
And up wi' the men o' the Forest, 

And down wi' the Merse to the deil. 

1 Selkirkshire, otherwise called Ectrick Forest. 

! mitres are made for noddles, 

But feet they are made for shoon, 
And fame is as sib to Selkirk, 

As licht is true to the moon. 
There sits a souter in Selkirk, 

Wha sings as he draws his thread. 
There's gallant souters in Selkirk, 

As lang's there's water in Tweed. 

2 Berwickshire, otherwise called the Merse. 

" The Souters o' Selkirk." In a very long Note, of more than seven pages, upon No. 438 of Johnson's Museum, 
Mr. Stenhouse avails himself of Sir Walter Scott's "Dissertation" (as the latter calls it) on the song called "The 
Souters of Selkirk," in his Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border. Sir Walter says that " the song relates to the fatal 
battle of Flodden, in which the flower of the Scottish nobility fell around their sovereign, James IV. The ancient and 
received tradition of the burgh of Selkirk affirms, that the citizens of that town distinguished themselves by their 
gallantry on that disastrous occasion. Eighty iu number, and headed by their town-clerk, they joined their monarch 
on his entrance into England. James, pleased with the appearance of this gallant troop, knighted the leader, William 
Brydone, upon the field of battle, from which few of the men of Selkirk were destined to return. They distinguished 
themselves in the conflict, and were almost all slain. The few survivors, on their return home, found, by the side of 
Lady-Wood Edge, the corpse of a female, wife to one of their fallen comrades, with a child sucking at her breast. In 
memory of this latter event, continues the tradition, the present arms of the burgh bear, a female, holding a child in 
her arms, and seated on a sarcophagus, decorated with the Scottish Lion ; in the background a wood." See Border 
Minstrelsy. Sir Walter Scott and Mr. Stenhouse, by documentary evidence, refute Ritson's assertion that the Souters 
of Selkirk could not, in 1513, amount to eighty fighting men ; and also Dr. Johnson's Aberdeen story, that the people 
learned the art of making shoes from Cromwell's soldiers. Scottish Acts of Parliament are quoted relative to " Sow- 
ters" and " cordoners," i.e., shoemakers, and the manufacture and exportation of boots and shoes, long before 
Cromwell was born. Also, it is shown that the appellation of " Souters" is given to the burgesses of Selkirk, whether 
shoemakers or not, " and appears to have originated from the singular custom observed at the admission of a new 
member, a ceremony which is on no account dispensed with. Some hog-bristles are attached to the seal of his bur- 
gess ticket; these he must dip in wine, and pass between his lips, as a tribute of his respect to this ancient and useful 
fraternity." — Stenhouse. Sir Walter Scott, when made Sheriff-Depute of Selkirkshire, went through this ceremony, 
and became a Souter of Selkirk. The yellow and green, mentioned in the second stanza of the song, are the liveries 
of the house of Home. Mr. Stenhouse states, that the original melody (of which, and of the words, he gives versions) 
is a bagpipe tune, which he heard sung and played by the Border musicians in his younger days. 




: ios 






Thou dark - wind - ing Car - ron, ance pleas - ing to see, 







me thou canst ne - ver bring plea - sure a - gain ; My brave Ca - le - do - mans Ik 





^ — *-— 4- 

low on the lea, And thy streams are deep- ting'd with the bloud of the slam! Ah I 






base-hearted treach'ry has doom'd our un - doing ; My poor bleeding country, what more can I do? Ev'n 


fe gff^fe^. p ;■ J ;■ frE ^ 


valour looks pale o'er the red field of ru • in, And free-dora be -holds her best war -nors laid low. 

Farewell ! ye dear partners of peril, farewell ! But I, a poor outcast, in exile must wander ; 

Though buried ye lie in one wide bloody grave, Perhaps, like a traitor, ignobly must die : 

Your deeds shall ennoble the place where you fell, On thy wrongs, my country, indignant I ponder ; 

And your names be enroll'd with the sons of the brave ! Ah ! wo to the hour when thy Wallace must fly. 

" Thou dark-winding Carron." This song was written by the late Robert Tannahill, of whom mention has been 
made in the Note to " The Braes of Balquhidder," p. 56. The song alludes to the battle of Falkirk, fought on 22d 
July 1298, in which the army of Sir William Wallace, the famous Scottish patriot, was completely defeated by the 
superior Fnglish forces led by Edward I., and aided by the treachery of two apostate Scottish nobles, the Earls of 
Dunbar and Angus. In that battle, so fatal for a time to the independence of Scotland, were slain the distinguished 
Scottish warriors Sir John Stewart, Macduff, and Sir John the Grahame, the bosom friend of Sir William Wallace. 
A few years afterwards, in 1305, Wallace was betrayed to the English by his vile countryman Sir John Monteith ; 
and was tried, condemned, and decapitated at London, his head being placed on a pinnacle on London Bridge, while 
his quarters were distributed over the kingdom. The Carron, named in the song, is a small river in Stirlingshire, 
that rises on the south side of the Campsie hills, and runs into the Frith of Forth below Falkirk. On the banks of 
that river are now the celebrated iron-foundries of Carron, established in 1760. 

The air, which has long been very popular, was composed by John M'Donald, an eminent dancing-master at 
Dundee, and was published in Gow's Fourth Collection. Another air of his, " Arrochar House," appeared in Charles 
Duft"s Collection ; and from the names of these airs, Mr. Wighton of Dundee thinks that Jl'Donald was probably a 
native of the parish of Arrochar. According to Mr. Wighton's information, M'Donald was a good violinist, and com- 
posed a number of minuets and marches, some of which he published in a small Collection, dedicated to the Duchess 
of Atholl. Others of them were published in Charles Duff's Collection, besides eighteen tunes marked with M'Donald's 
initials. It appears that M'Donald was a fashionable teacher of dancing in Dundee, and so exclusive that he would 
admit into his school no pupils who did not belong to aristocratic families. In 1790 he went to Calcutta, where he 
became master of the ceremonies at dancing assemblies, and on 16th December 1792, married a Miss Catherine 
Wilkin, of Irish parentage; and succeeded so well in India, that he returned to Dundee with a fortune of upwards of 
twenty thousand pounds. He was again resident in Dundee in 1820, and died there on 13th June 1827, aged seventy- 
four. His widow — who was only fourteen years old at her marriage — died on 10th January 1851. They died child- 
less. Arroquhar, or Arrochar, is a parish of Scotland extending over the northern part of Dumbartonshire. The 
village of Arrochar is romantically situate on the east shore of Loch Long, four miles west of Benlomond. Within 
the parish is Ben-Voirlich, rising 3180 feet above the sea-level. Of late years the village has grown into repute 
as a bathing-place ; and, consequently, the building of houses is increasing. 




• = 80 




Altt, " TAM LIS. 




O rag - ing for - tune's with' - ring blast Has laid my leaf full 


jj — ^ ' — 




m . 4—. ^s 

low ! O rag - ing for - tune's with' - ring blast Has laid my leaf full low ! 





My stem was fair, my bud was green, My bios - som sweet did 

3F=fr ^— -£ 

-^— 1£ 


blow ; The dew fell fresh, the sun rose mild, And made my branch - es grow. 






low \ 

luck - less for - tune's nor - them storms Laid 


bios - soma 





But luck - less for - tune's nor - thern storms Laid a' my bios - soms low. 

" eaoinq fortune's wrTHEEiNG blast." These words were written by Burns in September 1785, but they were 
spoiled by having an at the end of the second and fourth line of each stanza. He, at the same time, composed for 
them an air in the Scottish style, which, though he carried it long in his memory, he had not musical skill enough to 
write down. The ballad of Tamlane is so very long as to be unsuited for singing ; and therefore we have employed 
Burns's words, though not composed for the air. Sir Walter Scott, in the second volume of his Jlinstrelsy of the 
Scottish Border, (edition of 1802, pp. 167-227,) gives a dissertation on The Fairies of Popular Superstition, and par- 
ticular illustrations of the Tale of the Young Tamlane. He refers (p. 225) to the copy of Thorn Linn given in John- 
son's Musical Museum, but states that his own copy is the most perfect that has appeared. However, a number of 
passages in his copy seem to have been composed by himself. He says, regarding this fairy tale : — " The following 
ballad, still popular in Ettrick Forest, where the scene is laid, is certainly of much greater antiquity than its phraseo- 
logy, gradually modernized as transmitted by tradition, would seem to denote. The Tale of the Young Tamlane is 
mentioned in the Oomplaynt of Scotland; and the air to which it was chanted seems to have been accommodated to 
to a particular dance, for the dance of Thorn of Lynn, another variation of Thomalin, likewise occurs in the same 
performance. Like every popular subject it seems to have been frequently parodied ; and a burlesque ballad, begin- 
ning ' Tom o' the Lin was a Scotsman born,' is still well known." . ..." In Scottish Songs, 1774, a part of the 
original tale was published under the title of Kerton ha', a corruption of Carterhaugh." . . . . " Carterhaugh is a 
plain at the conflux of the Ettrick and Yarrow in Selkirkshire, about a mile above Selkirk, and two miles below 
Newark Castle ; a romantic ruin which overhangs the Yarrow, and which, we may suppose, was the habitation of our 
heroine's father. The peasants point out upon the plain those electrical rings which vulgar credulity supposes to be 
the traces of the fairy revels. Here, they say, were placed the stands of milk in which Tamlane was dipped in order 
to effect the disenchantment; and upon these spots, according to their mode of expressing themselves, the grass will 
never grow. In no part of Scot'and, indeed, has the belief in fairies maintained its ground with more pertinacity 
than in Selkirkshire," &c. There are several versions of the air on the Border; and one of them that was sent to 
the Editor of this work some years ago, and lent to a friend, has unfortunately been lost. 










The day re - turns, my bo - sum burns, The 






day »e twa did meet; Tho' win - ter wild 




-# = * 


pest toil'd, Ne'er sum - mer sun was half sae sweet. 



« S=^ =*-= 

■r-P- — »- F I J 1 El • 1 

the pride that loads the tide, And cross - es o'er the sul - try line ; Than 









king - ly robes, than crowns and globes, Heav'n gave me more, it made me thine. 

While day and night can bring delight, 

Or nature aught of pleasure give ; 
AVhile joys above my mind can move, 

For thee, and thee alone, 1 live ! 
When that grim foe of life below, 

Comes in between to make us part ; 
The iron hand that breaks our band — 

It breaks my bliss, it breaks my heart ! 

" The day returns, my EosoM burns." This song was likewise composed by Burns, as a tribute of gratitude and 
respect to one of the happiest and worthiest married couples in the world, Robert Riddell, Esq., of Glenriddell, and 
his lady. " At their fireside," says Burns, " I have enjoyed more pleasant evenings than at all the houses of fashion- 
able people in this country put together, and to their kindness and hospitality I am indebted to many of the happiest 
hours of my life." — fieliqves. The tune was composed by Mr. Kiddell himself, and named the Seventh of November, 
which was the anniversary of his marriage. Mr. Cromek, Editor of the " Reliques of Burns," says, that when he 
visited Friar's Carse Hermitage, (on the late Mr. Riddell's estate,) so much celebrated by Burns, he was greatly 
shocked to find this little spot, that ought to have heen held sacred, almost gone to decay. The pane of glass, on 
■which the poet had written his well-known " Lines," was removed ; the floor was covered with straw ; the door 
thrown open ; and the trees, that had been planted at the entrance to this interesting place, were broken down and 
destroyed by cattle. Such was the late proprietor, Captain Smith's neglect of a spot, on the window of which Robert 
Burns had traced, with his own hand, this tender tribute to the memory of a departed friend. 

" To Riddell, much-lamented mat- 1 

This ivied cot was dear ; 
Wanderer, dost value matchless worth ? 

This ivied cot revere!" 
How different the reverence of a poor old female cottager, living in a wretched hut in the immediate neighbourhood of 
Ellisland ! On being asked if she knew Burns : " Kend him ! Ay did 1 ! He was a great man for poems and 
making of beuks, and the like o' that ; but he's dead now, puir man !" See Museum Illustrations, vol. iii. page 
1214, 215. Mr. D. Laing (p. 302*) mentions Mr. Riddell as " a musical amateur, and eminent antiquary." 



: 60 










mm m^^mm 


my love were 

yon red rose, That grows up - on the 

-f— 1 . 



cas - tie wa', And I my - seP a 

drap o' dew, Up - on her blush - ing 



-^—»— #- 



leaves to fa*. 

-# 0- 

O there wi' trem - bling love's un-rest, I'd plead my pas - sion 







a' the niclit ; An' kiss the bloom I gent - ly prest, Till fiey d 1 a - wa' by morn -in"s licht. 

were my love yon lilac fair, 

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

When wearied on my little wing, — 
How I wad 2 mourn when it was torn 

By autumn wild and winter rude ! 
But I wad sing, on wanton wing, 

When youthfu' May its bloom renew'd. 

were my love yon vi'let sweet, 

That peeps frae 'neath the hawthorn spray ; 
An' I mysel' the zephyr's breath, 

Amang its bonnie leaves to play, — 
I'd fan it wi' a constant gale, 

Beneath the noontide's scorching ray ; 
An' spriukle it wi' freshest dews, 

At morning dawn and parting day. 

1 Scared ; frightened. 

" gin my love were ton red rose." In a letter to Mr. G. Thomson, dated January 5, 1793, Burns says : — 
"Do you know the following beautiful little fragment, in Wotherspoon's Collection of Scots Songs?" Burns then 
quotes the words, and proceeds to say : — " This thought is inexpressibly beautiful ; and quite, so far as I know, 
original. It is too short for a song, else I would forswear you altogether, unless you gave it a place. I have often 
tried to eke a stanza to it, but in vain. After balancing myself for a musing five minutes, on the hind-legs of my 
elbow-chair, I produced the following. The verses are far inferior to the foregoing, I frankly confess ; but if worthy 
of insertion at all, they might be first in place, as every poet who knows anything of his trade, will husband his 
best thoughts for a concluding stroke." Burns gives the new stanza he has written, beginning — 

" were my love yon lilac fair," &c. 

We give, with some requisite changes, the older stanza, and Burns's stanza, as well as an additional stanza, written 
by John Richardson, Esq., for Mr. George Thomson's Collection, vol. iv. p. 154. It appears that only the first four 
lines of the song, as published in Herd's Collection, are old. The old song consists of eight stanzas, in a style not 
agreeable to modern ideas of delicacy. The air is said to be very ancient, and to be of Highland origin. It was long 
ago sung to the old and indelicate words of a song beginning, " gin my love were but a rose," from which the idea 
of the first two stanzas of " gin my love were yon red rose," was derived. The air is given in Johnson's Museum, 
vol. vi. page 581, to words by Mr. John Anderson, engraver of music in Edinburgh; and in B. A. Smith's Scottish 
Minstrel, vol. iii. page 56. In Johnson's Museum, No. 594, the air given to eight lines of the older words is called, in 
Gow's Fourth Collection, " Lord Balgonie's Favourite, a very old Highland Tune." Alexander Campbell, the Editor 
of " Albyn's Anthology," claimed the air as his own, and as published by him in 1791 or 1792. Be that as it may, the 
air seems to have been suggested by the first three bars of the very old tune called " The Cordwainer's," 
which was published in the first volume of James Aird's Glasgow Collection, No. 176. See that March, No. 574 of 
Johnson's Museum, to words by Burns. 






— t**-^ 




Good night, and joy 

be wi' 

Your harm - less mirth lias 


cheer'd my heart ; 



fell blasts 

blaw ! 




CT I— g— fc 







part ! 













strength is gone. The 

tain - fires now blaze in 



^= — =^ — ^ — ■■ — =^ — ■ — ■ 




mem - ber, sons, the deeds I've done, And in your deeds I'll live a - gain ! 

When on yon muir our gallant clan 

Frae boasting foes their banners tore, 
Who show'd himsel' a better man, 

Or fiercer waved the red claymore ? 
But when in peace — then mark me there, 

When thro' the glen the wanderer came, 
I gave him of our hardy fare, 

I gave him here a welcome bame. 

The auld will speak, the young maun hear, 
Be canty, but be good and leal ;' 

Your ain ills aye ha'e heart to bear, 
Anither's aye ha'e heart to feel ; 

So, ere I set, I'll see you shine, 
I'll see you triumph ere I fa' ; 

My parting breath shall boast you mine, 

• Good night, and joy be wi' you a'. 

1 Loyal, honest. 

" Goon night, and jot be wi' ye A.'." These words were written by the late Sir Alexander Boswell, Bart., of 
Auchinleck, and published by him, anonymously, in a pamphlet containing some others of his songs, at Edinburgh, in 
1803. The title of the song is " The old Chieftain to his sons." Of the air, Mr. Stenhouse says : — " This beautiful 
tune has, time out of mind, been played at the breaking up of convivial parties in Scotland. The principal publishers 
of Scottish Music have also adopted it, as their farewell air, in closing their musical works." There is a fragment of 
a song called " Armstrong's Goodnight," which Sir Walter Scott gave in his " Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border," 
with the following notice : — " The following verses are said to have been composed by one of the Armstrongs, executed 
for the murder of Sir John Carmichael of Kdrom, Warden of the Middle Marches. The tune is popular iu Scotland, 
but whether these are the original words will admit of some doubt — 

' This night is my departing night, ' What I have done thro' lack of wit, 

For here nae langer must I stay ; I never, never can recall ; 

There's neither friend nor foe o' mine . I hope ye're a' my friends as yet, 

But wishes me away. Goodnight, and joy be wi' ye all !' 

Sir John Carmichael, the Warden, was murdered 16th June 1600, by a party of borderers, at a place called Raes- 
knows, near Lochmaben, whither he was going to hold a Court of Justice. Two of the ringleaders in the slaughter, 
Thomas Armstrong, called Bingan's Turn, and Adam Scott, called The Peclcet, were tried at Edinburgh, at the 
instance of Carmichael of Edrom. They were condemned to have their right hands struck off, thereafter to be hanged, 
and their bodies gibbeted on the Borough Moor ; which sentence was executed 14th November 1601." See Border 
Minstrelsy, vol. i. p. 105, edition of 1802. 












known, find 

1,1 and 




, " I cannot 
forbear, in 
'1'Loraaon, in Ireland t ever 

it.! Harmonics foliicl), if hot alwav 
are, at least to' a pultn 

power, tin H they exhibit, 

— the divine Beethoven lav."