five already furnished in our first volume — the full number of thirty-nine songs
from which the advantage of freshness had been taken before their appearance
in Dr. Ourrie's volumes.
( 44 )
BONIE LESLEY.
[This elegant compliment to female beauty, which waB communicated to
Thomson in November, 1792, had been composed in August preceding, as we
learn from a letter to Mrs. Dunlop, of that month, in which the poet transcribed
the song, with these remarks: — "The heart-struck awe — the distant, humble
approach — the delight we should have in gazing upon and listening to a
messenger of Heaven appearing in all the unspotted purity of his celestial home,
among the coarse, polluted, far inferior sons of men, to deliver to them tidings
that make their hearts swim in joy, and their imaginations soar in transport, —
such, so delighting and pure, were the emotions of my soul on meeting, the
other day, with Miss Lesley Baillie, your neighbour at Mayfleld. Mr. B., with
his two daughters, accompanied by Mr. H. of Q., passing through Dumfries, a
few days ago, on their way to England, did me the honour of calling on me ; on
which I took horse — though, God, knows, I could ill spare the time — and ac-
companied them fourteen or fifteen miles, and dined and spent the day with
them. 'Twas about nine, I think, when I left them, and riding home, I com-
posed the following ballad."
Burns had been introduced to Mr. Baillie and his family during his residence
at Edinburgh in 1787, and, referring to the beauty of his daughters, he thus wrote
to a friend: — "Fair and lovely are Thy works, Lord God Almighty! Who
would not praise Thee for these. Thy gifts in Thy goodness to the sons of men !
I declare, one day I had the honour of dining at Mr. Baillie's, I was almost in
the predicament of the children of Israel, when they could not look on
Moses" face for the glory that shone on it, when he descended from Mount
SinaL"
Miss Lesley Baillie, whom the poet celebrated in another song, beginning —
" Blythe hae I been on yon hill," became Mrs. Gumming of Logie, and latterly
resided in Edinburgh, where she died in 1843.]
O SAW ye bonie Lesley,
As she gaed ower the Border ?
She's gane, Hke Alexander,
To spread her conquests farther.
To see her is to love her,
And love but her for ever ;
For nature made her what she is,
And never made anither !
Thou art a queen, fair Lesley,
Thy subjects we, before thee ;
Thou art divine, fair Lesley,
The hearts o' men adore thee.
The deil he couldna skaith thee,
Or aught that wad belang thee ;
He'd look into thy bonie face.
And say, ' I canna wrang thee ! '
( 45 )
The powers aboon will tent thee,
Misfortune sha' na steer thee ;
Thou'rt like themselves sae lovely,
That ill they'll ne'er let near thee.
Return again, fair Lesley,
Return to Caledonie !
That we may brag, we hae a lass
There's nane again sae bonie.
DUNCAN GRAY.
[This thoroughly original and natural song, has borrowed little from its
progenitors except the name. At page 221, Vol. I., is given what is usually
reckoned "the original Duncan Gray." dressed up by Burns for the J/«se«m ; but,
in truth, there is still an older one which furnislied the hints for constructing
the present song. It is bo gross, however, that it will not bear inspection beyond
the opening verse, which is excellent : —
"Can ye play me, Duncan Gray, Ha! ha! the girdin o't;
O'er the hills and far away? Ha! ha! the girdin o't:
Duncan cam' our Meg to woo ;
Meg was nice and wad na do, —
But thraw'd her mou. and puff' d and blew
At offer o' the girdin o't ! "
The soBg in the text was sent to Thomson in December, 1792. In acknowledging
receipt of it, the Hon. Andrew Erskine — a coadjutor with Thomson in his
speculation — wrote thus to Burns: — ''Duncan Gray possesses native, genuine
humour — ' Spak' o' lowpin' ower a linn,' is a line of itself that should make you
immortal."]
Duncan Gray cam' here to woo,
Ha, ha, the wooing o't,
On blithe Yule-night when we were fou',
Ha, ha, the wooing o't.
Maggie coost her head fu' high,
Looked asklent and unco skiegh,
Gart poor Duncan stand abiegh ;
Ha, ha, the wooing o't.
Duncan fleech'd, and Duncan prayed ;
Ha, ha, &c.
Meg was deaf as Ailsa Craig,*
Ha, ha, &c.
* A well-known rocky islet in the Firth of Clyde, opposite Ayr.
{ i6 )
Duncaii sighed baitb out and iu,
Grat his een baith bleert and blin',
Spak o' lowpin' ower a linn ;
Ha, ha, &c.
Time and chance are but a tide,
Ha, ha, &c.
Slighted love is sair to bide,
Ha, ha, &c.
Shall I, like a fool, quoth he,
For a haughty hizzie die ?
She may gae to — France for me !
Ha, ha, &c.
How it comes let doctors tell,
Ha, ha, &c.
Meg grew sick — as he grew hale.
Ha, ha, &c.
Something in her bosom wrings.
For relief a sigh she brings ;
And oh ! her een, they spak' sic things !
Ha, ha, &c.
Duncan was a lad o' grace,
Ha, ha, &c.
Maggie's was a piteous case.
Ha, ha, &c.
Duncan couldna be her death,
Swelling pity smoored his wrath ;
Now they're crouse and canty baith ;
Ha, ha, &c.
( 4" )
LET NOT WOMEN E'ER COMPLAIN.
Tune — Duncan Gray,
[It was part of the plan of Thomson's collection, to furnish both English and
Scottish verses for singing to each tune, and the following song was supplied by
Burns in October, 1794, as English verses for Duncan Gray. In forwarding it,
he remarked, — ■' I have been at Duncan Gray to dress it in English ; but all I can
do is deplorably stupid."]
Let not women e'er complain
Of inconstancy in love ;
Let not women e'er complain
Fickle man is apt to rove :
Look abroad through Nature's range,
Nature's mighty law is change ;
Ladies, would it not be strange,
Man should then a monster prove ?
Mark the winds, and mark the skies ;
Ocean's ebb, and ocean's flow :
Sun and moon but set to rise.
Round and round the seasons go.
Why, then, ask of silly man
To oppose great Nature's plan ?
We'll be constant while we can —
You can be no more, you know.
LORD GREGORY.
(This was produced in January, 1793, as a Scottish version of a subject that
had been taken up by Dr. Wolcot at Tliomson's request, from a fine old Soots
ballad, called The Maid of Lochryan. Burns, in sending his verses, remarked
thus: — "My song, though much inferior to Peter's in poetic merit, has, I think,
more of the ballad simplicity in it."
It may be interesting to note that the poet, on one or more occasions, when
asked to sing or recite in company, stood up and recited his own Lm-d Gregory.']
jnKK, mirk is this midnight hour,
And loud the tempest's roar ;
A waefu' wanderer seeks thy tower,
Lord Gregory, ope thy door.
( 4« )
An exile frae her father's ha',
And a' for loving thee ;
At least some j'^i^y OQ i^ae shaw,
If love it may na be.
Lord Gregory, mind'st thou not the grove
By bonie Irwine side.
Where first I owned that virgin-love
I lang, lang had denied ?
How aften didst thou pledge and vow
Thou wad for aye be mine ;
And my fond heart, itsel' sae trae,
It ne'er mistrusted thine.
Hard is thy heart. Lord Gregory,
And flinty is thy breast :
Thou dart of heaven that flashest by,
O wilt thou give me rest I
Ye mustering thunders from above
Your wilhng victim see !
But spare and pardon my fause love,
His wrangs to Heaven and me !
YOUNG JESSIE.
Tune — Bonie Dundee.
[Composed in April, 1793. The anther, in forwarding it, thus expressed him-
self: — "I send a song on a celebrated toast in this country, to suit Bonie Dtaidee.'"
"Jessie " was the daughter of Provost Staigof Dumfries, afterwards married to
Major Miller of Dalswinton. She died in 1801, at the age of 20.]
True-hearted was he, the sad swain o' the Yarrow,
And fair are the maids on the banks o' the Ayr,
But by the sweet side o' the Nith's winding river,
Are lovers as faithful, and maidens as fair :
To equal young Jessie seek Scotland all over ;
To equal young Jessie you seek it in vain ;
Grace, beauty, and elegance fetter her lover,
And maidenly modesty fixes the chain.
( 49 )
O fresh is the rose iu the gay dewy moruiug,
And sweet is the hly at evening close ;
But in the fair presence o' lovely young Jessie
Unseen is the lily, unheeded the rose.
Love sits in her smile, like a wizard ensnaring ;
Enthroned in her een he deUvers his law :
And still to her charms she alone is a stranger —
Her modest demeanour's the jewel of a' !
O POORTITH CAULD.
Tune — Cauld Kail.
[This beautiful song, composed in January, 1793, was intended by Burns to be
set to the air, Catild Kail in Aberdeen: but Thomson, fancying that to be unsuit-
able, selected for it another melody, / had a horse, I had nae mair. The poet was
not reconciled to Thomson's opinion of Cauld Kail, and he thus wrote to him: —
"I differ from your idea of the expression of the tune: there is, to me. a great
deal of tenderness in it-." He resolved, however, to compose other words for the
air, and we find him in April, 1793, writing thus about it: — '^ Cauld Kail in
Aberdeen you must leave with me yet awhile. I have vowed to have a song to
that air, on the lady whom I attempted to celebrate in the verses, Foortith Cauld
and Restless Love." Again, in the following August, he ^vi-ote to Thomson as
follows : — " I have just put the last hand to the song I meant for Cauld Kail: if
it suits you to insert it, I shall be pleased, as the heroine is a favourite of mine."
The song enclosed was the one beginning "Come, let me take thee to my
breast," the heroine of which is well understood to have been JeanLorimer. and
in both of the songs he pointedly refers to the blue eyes of Chloris. It is rather
remarkable that in January, 1793 — the date of the song in the text — Chloris was
in terms of courtship with a Mr. Whelpdale, whom she did form a Gretna Green
alliance with in March following; but soon being deserted by him, she retm-ned
home to her parents at Kemmis Hall. From that period, till the autumn of
1795, she became the poet's artistic model or " lay figure " in the production of
his lyrics ; but we find him, in February, 1796, after some interval of silence,
telling Thomson that he has taken a dislike to the name "Chloris," and he even
"lightlies her beauty a wee!" for he writes, — "What you once mentioned of
'flaxen locks ' is just: they cannot enter into an elegant description of beauty."
Finally, in May, 17911, he writes to Thomson, — "My verses to Cauld Kail I will
suppress: they are neither worthy of my name nor of your book." Alas, poor
Chloris !
After perusing and considering the above, the reader will scarcely be prepared
to learn that Gilbert Burns, in answer to a question from Thomson as to the
lady who formed the subject of the following song, replied that the heroine was
" a Miss Jane Blackstock, afterwards Mrs. Whittier of Liverpool." There was,
in those days, a good deal of dust thrown into the eyes of the public, to check
their enquiries regarding the private friendships and attachments of the poet]
POORTITH cauld, and restless love,
Ye wreck my peace between ye ;
Yet poortith a' I could forgive,
An 'twere na for my Jeanie.
( 50 )
CHORUS.
why should Fate sic pleasure have,
Life's dearest bands untwining ?
Or why sae sweet ajloiver as love,
Depend on Fortunes shining.
This warld's wealth, when I think on,
Its pride, and a' the lave o't ;
Fie, fie on silly coward man
That he should be the slave o't !
why, 4'C.
Her een sae bonie blue, betray
How she repays my passion ;
But prudence is her o'er word aye,
She talks of rank and fashion.
ivhy, (f-c.
wha can prudence think upon,
And sic a lassie by him ?
O wha can prudence think upon,
And sae in love as I am ?
why, ^-c.
How blest the humble cotter's fate ! *
He wooes his simple dearie ;
The silly bogles, wealth and state,
Can never make them eerie.
O why, ^c.
HOW LANG AND DREARY IS THE NIGHT!
[This is another attempt of Burna to fit the tune, CauJd Kail, with tender
words. He sent it to Thomson in October, 1794; but in reality, it was then only
a new arrangement of a song of his in Johnson's second volume, which we have
already given at page 225, Vol. I.]
How lang and dreary is the night
When I am frae my dearie !
I restless lie frae e'en to morn.
Though I were ne'er sae weary.
In the original MS., " How blest the wild-wood Indian's fate.'
( 51 )
CHORUS.
For oh, her lanely nights are laiig !
And oh, her dreams are eerie !
And oh, her ividoived heart is sair,
Tha(s absent f roe her deane !
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, d^c.
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, 4C'
HERE IS THE GLEN.
Tune — The Flowers of Edinburgh.
[Produced in May, 1794, to fit an air composed by Lady Elizabeth Heron of
Heron, called Tlie Banks of Cree ; but as Thomson did not fancy the tune, he set
these words to The Flowers of Edinburgh.']
Here is the glen, and here the bower,
All underneath the birchen shade ;
The village-bell has tolled the hour —
what can stay my lovely maid ?
'Tis not Maria's whispering call ;
'Tis but the balmy-breathing gale,
Mixed with some warbler's dying fall,
The dewy star of eve to hail.
It is Maria's voice I hear ! —
So calls the woodlark in the grove,
His little faithful mate to cheer ;
At once 'tis music and 'tis love.
( 52 )
And art thou come ? — and art thou true ?
O welcome, dear, to love and me !
And let us all our vows renew,
Along the flowery banks of Cree.
SWEET FA'S THE EVE.
Tdne — Craigiehurn.
[At page 274, Vol. I., the reader will find this song in its earlier form. The
present amendment was sent to Thomson in December, 1794. A chorus which
disflgm-ed the former version is withdrawn, and the versification is smoothed
considerably.]
Sweet fa's the eve on Craigieburn,
And blythe awakes the morrow ;
But a' the pride o' spring's return
Can yield me nocht but sorrow.
I see the flowers and spreading trees,
I hear the wild birds singmg ;
But what a weary wight can please,
And care his bosom wringing ?
Fain, fain would I my griefs impart,
Yet darena for your anger ;
But secret love wiU 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.
( 53 )
ADDRESS TO THE WOODLARK.
Tune — Loch Erroch-side.
[Produced in May, 1795. It is a universal favourite, and accords finely with
the beautiful air for which it was composed — namely, Loch Erroch-side, or The
Lass o' Gowrie in slowish time.]
O STAY, sweet warbling woodlark, stay !
Nor quit for me the trembling spray ;
A hapless lover courts thy lay,
Thy soothing, fond complaining.
Again, again that tender part.
That I may catch thy melting art ;
For surely that wad touch her heart,
Wha kills me wi' disdaining.
Say, was thy little mate unkind.
And heard thee as the careless wind ?
Oh ! nocht but love and sorrow joined,
Sic notes o' woe could wauken.
Thou tells o' never-ending care ;
O' speechless grief, and dark despair :
For pity's sake, sweet bird, nae mair.
Or my poor heart is broken !
SONGS FIRST PUBLISHED IN THOMSON'S COLLECTION, VOL. Il„ JULY, T799,
At page 43, we referred with some doubt to the allegation that Burns had
granted Thomson an exclusive right to publish the songs composed by
him for that gentleman's collection. We have since found, at the close of
volume third of that work, an " Advertisement," followed by a certijkate
which the pawky speculator seems to have persuaded the poet to grant him,
to the effect of conveying the copyright of these songs, as absolutely as if
they had been purchased at a largo price ! The words of this document are
as follow: —
" I hereby certify that all the songs of my writing, published, and to be published
by Mr. George Thomson of Edinburgh, are so published by my authority;
and, moreover, that I never empowered any other person to publish any of
the songs written by me for this work. And I authorise him to prosecute
any person or persons who shall publish or vend any of these songs without
his consent. In testimony whereof, &c.,
" (Signed) ROBERT BURNS."
HIGHLAND MARY.
Tune — Kathcmne Ogie.
[It was on the 14th of November, 1792, that the poet contributed this most
affecting record of past but imperishable love. Like its companion lyric, '• To
Mary in Heaven," it is understood to have been composed on the anniversary
of Mary's death— the one three, and the other six years after the event. " The
foregoing song," says the bard, "pleases myself; I think it is in my happiest
manner; you will see at a 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 ensure
celebrity. Perhaps, after all, it is the glowing prejudice of my heart that throws
a borrowed lustre over the merits of the composition."— See Vol. I., pp. 91,
208, 2(;l. We may liere remark that the fifth and sixth lines of this song are
often printed thus: —
"There simmer first â– unfaulds her robes, and there they langest tarry! "
which is evidently a mistake, as the wish of the poet— that the place may be
ever beautiful- runs through the whole stanza.]
Ye banks, and braes, and streams around
The castle o' Montgomery !
Green be your woods, and fair your flowers.
Your waters never drumlie :
There simmer first uufauld her robes,
And there the langest tarry ;
For there I took the last fareweel
0' my sweet Highland Mary.
( 55 )
How sweetly bloomed 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' mony a vow, and locked embrace,
Our parting was fu' tender ;
And, pledging aft to meet again,
We tore oursel's asunder :
But, oh ! fell death's untimely frost.
That nipt my flower sae early !
Now green's the sod, and cauld's the clay.
That wraps my Highland Mary !
O pale, pale now, those rosy lips,
I aft hae kissed 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 hve my Highland Mary.
BLYTHE HAE I BEEN ON YON HILL.
Tune — The Quakers Wife.
[This song, supplied in June, 1793, was inspired, lilie that given at page 44, by
the charms of Miss Lesley Baillie. — See head-note to saio ye bonie Lesley. The
poet, in sending it, remarks: — "I think the song is not in my worst manner,"
and in September thereafter he again refers to it thus : — ■' Btythe hae I been on
yon hill, is one of the finest songs ever I made in my life ; and besides, is com-
posed on a young lady, positively the most beautiful, lovely woman in the
world."]
Blythe hae I been on yon hill,
As the lambs before me ;
Careless ilka thought and free,
As the breeze flew o'er me :
( 56 )
Now nae longer sport and play,
Mirth or sang can please me ;
Lesley is sae fair and coy,
Care and anguish seize me.
Heavy, heavy is the task,
Hopeless love declaring ;
TrembUng, I dow nocht but glower,
Sighing, dumb, despairing!
If she winna ease the thraws
In my bosom swelling.
Underneath the grass-green sod.
Soon maun be my dwelling.
THINE AM I, MY FAITHFUL FAIR.
TvNE— The Quaker's Wife.
[In sending this song, in October, 1793, the poet says,— "I am pleased that you
are reconciled to the air of the Quaker's Wife. The following verses, I hope, wiU
please you, as an English song to the air." It is believed that the " Nancy " he
had in view while composing the song was his " Clarinda," then residing in Edin-
burgh, after her return from a brief visit to Jamaica, in 1792. If this be the case,
the poet's ardent musings must have been of an ex post facto nature, for he
never saw the lady after Gth December, 1791.]
Thine am I, my faithful fair.
Thine, my lovely Nancy ;
Every pulse along my veins,
Every roving fancy.
To thy bosom lay my heart,
There to throb and languish :
Though despair had wrung its core,
That would heal its anguish.
Take away those rosy lips.
Rich with balmy treasure ;
Turn away thine eyes of love,
Lest I die with pleasure.
What is life when wanting love ? —
Niglit without a morning :
Love's the cloudless summer sun.
Nature gay adorning.
( 57 )
HAD I A CAVE.
Tune — Rohin Adair.
[These very touching verses were produced in August, 1793, to suit a favourite
Irish melody. In forwarding them, the poet thus wrote: — '-You, my dear sir, will
remember an unfortunate part of our worthy friend Cunningham's story which
happened about three years ago. That struck my fancj', and I endeavoured to
do the idea justice, as follows."
For some account of the story alluded to, see the song " She's fair and fause,"
page 326, Vol Lj
Had I a cave on some wild distant shore,
Where the winds howl to the waves' dashing roar;
There would I weep my woes,
There seek my lost repose.
Till grief my eyes should close,
Ne'er to wake more !
Falsest of womankind ! canst thou declare.
All thy f ond-phghted vows — fleeting as air ?
To thy new lover hie,
Laugh o'er thy perjury;
Then in thy bosom try
What peace is there !
BY ALLAN STREAM I CHANCED TO ROVE.
Tune — Allan Water.
[The poet, in transmitting this song in August, 1793, remarks : — " Autumn is
my propitious season. I make more verses in it than all the year else. . . .
I walked out yesterday evening with a volume of the Museum in my hand,
when, turning up Allan Water — ' What numbers shall the muse repeat?' — the
words appeared to me rather unworthy of so fine an air, and recollecting that
it is on your list, I sat and raved under the shade of an old thorn, till I -svrote
one to suit the measure. I may be wrong, but I think it not in my worst style."
The song appears never to have become popular; nevertheless, the last double
stanza will compare well with anj^hing of the kind he ever composed.]
By Allan stream I chanced to rove.
While Phoebus sank beyond Benledi ; *
The winds were whispering through the grove,
The yellow corn was waving ready :
* A mountain west of Strath-Allan, 3009 feet high.— (E. B.)
( 58 )
I listened to a lover's sang,
And thought on yonthfu' pleasures niony ;
And aye the wild-wood echoes rang —
Oh, dearly do I love thee, Annie !*
Oh, 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 head upon my throbbing breast,
She, sinking, said : ' I'm thine for ever ! '
While mony a kiss the seal imprest.
The sacred vow, we ne'er should sever.
The haunt o' Spring's the primrose brae.
The Simmer joys the flocks to follow;
How cheery through her shortening day.
Is Autumn, in her weeds o' yellow !
But can they melt the glowing heart.
Or chain the soul in speechless pleasure ?
Or through each nerve the rapture dart.
Like meeting her, our bosom's treasure ?
WHISTLE, AND I'LL COME TO YOU, MY LAD.
[A Blight sketch of this unique song was furnished for the Museum during the
winter of 1787. — (See p. 204, Vol. I.) The complete song, as in the text, was
supplied to Thomson in August, 1793, produced, no doubt, under the influence
of Jean Lorimer's charms ; for, at a subsequent date, he instructs Thomson to
change the last line of the chorus to, •' Thy Jeanie will venture \vi' you. my lad."
"In fact," he adds, "a fair dame whom the Graces have attired in witchcraft,
and whom the Loves have armed with lightning— a fair one, herself the heroine
of the song, insists on the amendment, and dispute her commands if you dare ! ' '
Dr. Ourrie, in a foot-note, asserts that he has •• heard the heroine of the song
sing it herself in the very spirit of arch simplicity which it requires." One is at
a loss to know what lady is referred to here, unless the Doctor means Mrs. Bunts.
Motherwell and Cunningham both suppose Mrs. Riddel; but her christian name
was Maria. We may venture to suggest that Dr. Currie, who possessed the
beautiful country-seat of Dumcrieff, near Craigieburn, may have been personally