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.

III.

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

II.

Fu' aft at e'en

Wi' dancing keen,

When a' were blythe and merry, I car'd na by,

Sae sad was I

In absence o' my dearie. But praise be blest, My mind's at rest,

I'm happy wi' my Johnny: At kirk and fair, I'se ay be there, And be as canty's ony.

CXVII.

AE FOND KISS.

Tune-" Rory Dall's Port."

[Believed to relate to the poet's parting with Clarinda.

They are in

"These exquisitely affecting stanzas," says Scott, "contain the essence of a thousand love-tales." the Museum.]

I.

AE fond kiss, and then we sever;
Ae fareweel, and then for ever!
Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.
Who shall say that fortune grieves him
While the star of hope she leaves him?
Me, nae cheerfu' twinkle lights me;
Dark despair around benights me.

CXVIII.

LOVELY DAVIES.

Tune-"Miss Muir."

[Written for the Museum, in honour of the witty, the handsome, the lovely, and unfortunate Miss Davies.]

I.

O How shall I, unskilfu', try

The poet's occupation,

The tunefu' powers, in happy hours,

That whispers inspiration?

Even they maun dare an effort mair,
Than aught they ever gave us,
Or they rehearse, in equal verse,

The charms o' lovely Davies.

Each eye it cheers, when she appears,
Like Phoebus in the morning,

When past the shower, and ev'ry flower
The garden is adorning.

As the wretch looks o'er Siberia's shore,
When winter-bound the wave is;
Sae droops our heart when we maun part
Frae charming lovely Davies.

II.

Her smile's a gift, frae 'boon the lift,
That maks us mair than princes;

A scepter'd hand, a king's command,
Is in her darting glances:

The man in arms, 'gainst female charms,
Even he her willing slave is;

He hugs his chain, and owns the reign
Of conquering, lovely Davies.

My muse to dream of such a theme,
Her feeble pow'rs surrender:

Tune-"The weary Pund o' Tow."

["This song," says Sir Harris Nicolas, "is in the Musical Museum; but it is not attributed to Burns. Mr. Allan Cunningham does not state upon what authority he has assigned it to Burns." The critical knight might have, if he had pleased, stated similar objections to many songs which he took without scruple from my edition, where they were claimed for Burns, for the first time, and on good authority. I, however, as it happens, did not claim the song wholly for the poet: I said "the idea of the song is old, and perhaps some of the words.” It was sent by Burns to the Museum, and in his own handwriting.]

I.

THE weary pund, the weary pund,

The weary pund o' tow:

I think my wife will end her life
Before she spin her tow.

I bought my wife a stane o' lint
As gude as e'er did grow;

And a' that she has made o' that,
Is ae poor pund o' tow.

II.

There sat a bottle in a bole,

Beyont the ingle low,

And ay she took the tither souk, To drouk the stowrie tow.

III.

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.

IV.

At last her feet-I sang to see't-
Gaed foremost o'er the knowe;
And or I wad anither jad,
I'll wallop in a tow.

The weary pund, the weary pund,
The weary pund o' tow!

I think my wife will end her life
Before she spin her tow.

I.

I HAE a wife o' my ain-
I'll partake wi' naebody;
I'll tak cuckold frae nane,

I'll gie cuckold to naebody.
I hae a penny to spend,
There-thanks to naebody;

I hae naething to lend,
I'll borrow frae naebody.

II.

I am naebody's lord

I'll be slave to naebody;

I hae a guid braid sword,
I'll tak dunts frae naebody.
I'll be merry and free,

I'll be sad for naebody;
Naebody cares for me,

I'll care for naebody.

CXXI.

O, FOR AN E-AN D-T WENTY, TAM!

Tune-"The Moudiewort."

[In his memoranda on this song in the Museum, Burns says simply, "This song is mine." The air for a century before had to bear the burthen of very ordinary words.]

CHORUS.

An O, for ane-and-twenty, Tam,

An' hey, sweet ane-and-twenty, Tam, I'll learn my kin a rattlin' sang, An I saw ane-and-twenty, Tam.

I.

THEY snool me sair, and haud me down,
And gar me look like bluntie, Tam!
But three short years will soon wheel roun'-
And then comes ane-and-twenty, Tam.

I I.

A gleib o' lan', a claut o' gear,
Was left me by my auntie, Tam,
At kith or kin I need na spier,
An I saw ane-and-twenty, Tam.