old strain, eked out and amended by Burns, and sent to the Museum in his own handwriting.] I. HEE balou! my sweet wee Donald, Picture o' the great Clanronald; Brawlie kens our wanton chief Wha got my young Highland thief. II. Leeze me on thy bonnie craigie, III. Thro' the Lawlands, o'er the border, Weel, my babie, may thou furder: Herry the louus o' the laigh countree, Syne to the Highlands hame to me. CLXXII. HERE'S HIS HEALTH IN WATER. Tune-" The job of journey-work." [Burns took the hint of this song from an older and less decorous strain, and wrote these words, it has been said. in humorous allusion to the condition in which Jear Ar mour found herself before marriage; as if Burns could be capable of anything so insulting. The words are in the Museum.] ALTHO' my back be at the wa', Yet here's his health in water! And dree the kintra clatter. CLXXIV. GLOOMY DECEMBER. Tune-"Wandering Willie." [These verses were, it is said, inspired by Clarinda, and must be taken as a record of his feelings at parting with one dear to him to the latest moments of existence -the Mrs. Mac of many a toast, both in serious and festive hours.] I. ANCE mair I hail thee, thou gloomy December! Is anguish unmingled, and agony pure. II. Wild as the winter now tearing the forest, 'Till the last leaf o' the summer is flown, Such is the tempest has shaken my bosom, Since my last hope and last comfort is gone! Still as I hail thee, thou gloomy December, Still shall I hail thee wi' sorrow and care; For sad was the parting thou makes me remember, Parting wi' Nancy, oh! ne'er to meet mair. CLXXV. But her ten-pund lands o' tocher guid III. Out o'er yon muir, out o'er yon moss, IV. Sae sweetly move her genty limbs, V. My lady's dink, my lady's drest, CLXXVI. AMANG THE TREES. Tune-" The King of France, he rade a race.” [Burns wrote these verses in scorn of those, and they are many, who prefer "The capon craws and queer ha ha's!" of emasculated Italy to the original and delicious airs, Highland and Lowland, of old Caledonia: the song is a MY LADY'S GOWN, THERE'S GAIRS fragment-the more's the pity.] UPON'T. CLXXVII. THE GOWDEN LOCKS OF ANNA. Tune-"Banks of Banna." ["Anne with the golden locks," one of the attendant maidens in Burns's howff, in Dumfries, was very fair and very tractable, and, as may be surmised from the song, had other pretty ways to render herself agreeable to the customers than the serving of wine. Burns recommended this song to Thomson; and one of his editors makes him. say, "I think this is one of the best love-songs I ever composed," but these are not the words of Burns; this contradiction is made openly, lest it should be thought that the bard had the bad taste to prefer this strain to dozens of others more simple, more impassioned, and more natural.] I. YESTREEN I had a pint o' wine, A place where body saw na'; Yestreen lay on this breast o' mine The gowden locks of Anna. The hungry Jew in wilderness Rejoicing o'er his manna, Was naething to my hinny bliss Upon the lips of Anna. II. Ye monarchs tak the east and west, Gie me within my straining grasp III. Awa, thou flaunting god o' day! IV. The kirk an' state may join and tell- Had I on earth but wishes three, CLXXVIII. MY AIN KIND DEARIE 0. [This is the first song composed by Burns for the national collection of Thomson: it was written in October, 1792. "On reading over the Lea-rig," he says, “I immediately set about trying my hand on it, and, after all, I could make nothing more of it than the following." The first and second verses were only sent: Burns added the third and last verse in December.] I. WHEN o'er the hill the eastern star Tells bughtin-time is near, my jo; And owsen frae the furrow'd field Return sae dowf and weary, O! Down by the burn, where scented birks Wi' dew are hanging clear, my jo; I'll meet thee on the lea-rig, My ain kind dearie O! II. In mirkest glen, at midnight hour, Altho' the night were ne'er sae wild, III. The hunter lo'es the morning sun, To rouse the mountain deer, my jo; At noon the fisher seeks the glen, Alang the burn to steer, my jo; It maks my heart sae cheery, O, CLXXIX. TO MARY CAMPBELL. ["In my very early years," says Burns to Thomson, "when I was thinking of going to the West Indies, I took the following farewell of a dear girl. You must know that all my earlier love-songs were the breathings of ardent passion, and though it might have been easy in after times to have given them a polish, yet that polish, to me, would have defaced the legend of my heart, so 1 For "scented birks," in some copies, "birken buds." V I. Return again, fair Lesley, Return to Caledonie ; That we may brag, we hae a lass There's nane again sae bonnie. III. Wi' mony a vow, and lock'd embrace, CLXXXII. HIGHLAND MARY. Tune-" Katherine Ogie." [Mary Campbell, of whose worth and beauty Burns nas sung with such deep feeling, was the daughter of a mariner, who lived in Greenock. She became acquainted with the poet while on service at the castle of Montgomery, and their strolls in the woods and their roaming trystes only served to deepen and settle their affections. Their love had much of the solemn as well as of the romantic: on the day of their separation they plighted their mutual faith by the exchange of Bibles: they stood with a running-stream between them, and lifting up water in their hands vowed love while woods grew and waters ran. The Bible which the poet gave was elegantly bound: 'Ye shall not swear by my name falsely,' was written in the bold Mauchline hand of Burns, and underneath was his name, and his mark as a freemason. They parted to meet no more: Mary Campbell was carried off suddenly by a burning fever, and the first intimation which the poet had of her fate, was when, it is said, he visited her friends to meet her on her return from Cowal, whither she had gone to make arrangements for her marriage. The Bible is in the keeping of her relations: we have seen a lock of her hair; it was very long and very bright, and of a hue deeper than the flaxen. The song was written for Thomson's work.] I. YE banks, and braes, and streams around The castle o' Montgomery, Green be your woods, and fair your flowers, There Simmer first unfauld her robes, II. How sweetly bloom'd the gay green birk, Flew o'er me and my dearie; IV. O pale, pale now, those rosy lips That heart that lo'ed me dearlyBut still within my bosom's core Shall live my Highland Mary! CLXXXIII. AULD ROB MORRIS. [The starting lines of this song are from one of no little merit in Ramsay's collection: the old strain is sarcastic; the new strain is tender: it was written for Thomson.] I. THERE'S auld Rob Morris that wons in yon glen, He's the king o' guid fellows and wale of auld men; He has gowd in his coffers, he has owsen and kine, And ae bonnie lassie, his darling and mine. II. She's fresh as the morning, the fairest in May; She's sweet as the ev'ning amang the new hay; As blythe and as artless as the lamb on the lea, And dear to my heart as the light to my e'e. III. But oh! she's an heiress,-auld Robin's a laird, And my daddie has nought but a cot-house and yard; A wooer like me maunna hope to come speed; The wounds I must hide that will soon be my dead. |