say's tea-table, where the modern song first appeared, the ancient name of the tune, Allan says, is Allan Water, or My love Annie's very bonnie. This last has certainly been a line of the original song; so I took up the idea, and, as you will see, have introduced the line in its place, which I presume it formerly occupied; though I likewise give you a chusing line, if it should not hit the cut of your fancy. By Allan-stream I chanc'd to rove, And thought on youthfu' pleasures mony; O happy be the woodbine bower, Nae nightly bogle make it eerie; Nor ever sorrow stain the hour, The place and time I met my dearie! Her * A mountain west of Strath-Allan, 3009 feet high. R. B. + Or, O my love Annie's very bonnie.' R. B. Her head upon my throbbing breast, The sacred vow, we ne'er should sever. The haunt o' spring's the primrose brae, Like meeting her, our bosom's treasure? Bravo! say I it is a good song. Should you think so too (not else) you can set the music to it, and let the other follow as English verses. Autumn is my propitious season. I make more verses in it than all the year else. God bless you! No. No. XXXV. MR. BURNS to MR. THOMSON. August, 1793. Is Whistle and I'll come to you, my lad, one of your airs? I admire it much; and yesterday I set the following verses to it. Urbani whom I have met with here, begged them of me, as he admires the air much; but as I understand that he looks with rather an evil eye on your work, I did not choose to comply. However, if the song does not suit your taste, I may possibly send it him. The set of the air which I had in my eye is in Johnson's Museum. O WHISTLE and I'll come to you, my lad,* Tho' In some of the MSS the four first lines run thus, O whistle and I'll come to thee, my jo; Tho' father and mother and a' should say no, E. Tho' father and inither and a' should gae mad, O whistle and I'll come to you, my lad. But warily tent, when you come to court me, O whistle, &c. At kirk, or at market, whene'er ye meet me, Gang by me as tho' that ye car'd not a flie; But steal me a blink o' your bonnie black e'e, Yet look as ye were na lookin at me. Yet look, &c. O whistle, &c. Ay vow and protest that ye care na for me, And whyles ye may lightly my beauty a wee; O whistle, &c. Another favorite air of mine is The muckin o' Geordie's byre; when sung slow with expression, I have wished that it had had better poetry : that I have endeavoured to supply, as follows: Adown Adown winding Nith I did wander, Of Phillis to muse and to sing. CHORUS. Awa wi your belles and your beauties, The daisy amus'd my fond fancy, The rose-bud's the blush o' my charmer, How fair and how pure is the lily, But fairer and Awa, &c. purer her breast. Yon knot of gay flowers in the arbour, Her breath is the breath o' the woodbine, Awa, &c. H 2 Her |