intelligence than what the prefixed initials afford. However,
they were probably written about the year 1617; and in some
editions of the Sempills of Beltrees' contemporary satire of the
Packman and the Priest, appears a not unequal sonnet ascribed to
an Alexander Sempttl: if correct, possibly a son or near relation of
the family, and it may be, the writer of these laudatory verses ad-
dressed to our author.
The name of Maxwell, which here occurs as a then recognised
poet, has perhaps perished! The relation, however, assigned him
to Sir W. Mure, whose grandmother was a daughter of Maxwell
of New-wark, Renfrewshire, would seem pretty certainly to in-
dicate his descent from that branch of the Maxwells. Almost
nothing, indeed, seems known of the history of poetry in the West
Lowlands of Scotland. And it is pleasing to learn, Mr. Mother-
well of Paisley purposes soon to supply an entire and creditable
edition of the poetical writings of the Sempills of Beltrees above
alluded to, with memoirs of that interesting and very remarkable
family.
130 ROWALLAN'S POEMS.
The orthography of these two Sonnets, and of the Epitaphs
which follow, has carefully been preserved as in the original papers.
Small thanks, we are aware, must be due to us by the antiquary,
for the pains we have taken to conform the preceding portion of
these selections, to the spelling of the present day; but in a com-
pilation more intended for ordinary than antiquarian use, such an
alteration seemed somewhat imperious. This, however, is the
utmost license which lias been taken, as, we think, the critical
reader will easily be satisfied of.
THE EPITAPH
OF THE RYT. VENERABLE GODLY AND LEARNED FATHER GEORGE, HE
GRACE FROM GOD ORDERLY CALLIT, AND BE HIS PRINCE APOYNTED
TO BE GREATEST PRELATE IN SCOTLAND, ARCHBISCHOPE OF SANCT-
ANDROIS, &C.
BEREFT of breath, yit nocht from lyfe depoised,
Heir lyes inclosid Sanctandrois richest treassour:
A pearle but meassour hath ye wordill loossed,
Quhoise mynd repoissed in no decaying pleassour.
A matchles Phoenix, quho from mein estait,
Becam a Prelat and a Prince's mait.
A painfull Pastour, worthy such a place ;
Too schort a space his natioune hath decoired;
Quho now, restored to earth, doth rest in peace ;
Receaued in grace, the heawinis in Sanctis hath stoired :
Quhoise corpis t'intomb, glaid ar ye sensles stones,
Promou'd to honour by his buried bones.
131
In Zoilum.
Thou then, quho by thy false and fenzied fact,
Strywes to detract this prudent Prelat's name,
Bewar such scharae becum thy suirest hap,
Thrawin from ye tap of fortoune to defame.
No blot, no blemisch, no defect, no moth
Presum'd to enter in so rich a cloth!
ANE EPITAPH
EFTER YE VULGAR OPINIOUNE TTPON TE DEATH OF GEORGE GL AID-
STAKES, B. OF S. A.
GLAIDSTANES is gone! his corpis doth heir duell,
Bot quhair be his oyer halfe, no man can tell:
The heauinis doth abhor to ludge such a ghost,
Quho still quhill he liued to Pluto raid post;
The earth hath expell'd him, as loathing such load,
Quho honoured Bacchus and no other god.
Since both then reiect him, t' this outcast of heavin
In midst of ye Furies a place must be giwin:
Quhose covetouse mynd no richesse contented,
Bot heiping wp treassour wnmyndful quho lent it;
Till contrary fortoun, by turning ye dyce,
Metamorphos'd his thousands in millions of lyce!
Quhich endit ye dayes of this sensuall slave
Wnwordy the earth sould yeild him a grave !
By him quho wischeth, that this wretches fait
May giwe exemple wnto ewery stait :
That hyer powares be with feir regairdit;
Or, by this Athist's punischment rewairded!
Finis 1615.
132 ROWALLAN'S POEMS.
These curious verses would seem at least a not unapt comment
on the conflicting rancour of the period to which they belong;
and so far may apologise for their present appearance.
George Gladstanes, the prelate to whom they appear to relate,
was advanced to the metropolitan see of St. Andrews in 1606,
and died in the incumbency, May 2, 1615. " He was son of
Halbert Gladstanes, Clerk of Dundee; and had his education in
the Latin there. He seems to have brought on his own death
upon himself, by indulging his appetite. He lived a filthy belly-god ;
he died of a filthy and loathsome disease, tfxwX^o /3gwrog."
Wodrow MS. in Sib. Col. Glas. where other epitaphs on the same
prelate, of no higher delicacy, and certainly not less virulent, are
recorded.
Spotswood, who ran perhaps as high on the opposite side, though
doubtless somewhat more tempered, characterises the archbishop
as " a man of good learning, ready utterance, and great invention ;
but of an easy nature, and induced by those he trusted, to do
many things hurtful to the see."
Three other Epitaphs occur in the MSS. one on the " Lady
Arnestoun," 1616; and another, dated 1617, is inscribed to the
memory of the " Laird of Arnestoun, youngar;" of both, the
poet has to deplore their " vntymelie fait." The third Epitaph,
which want of room alone precludes being now printed, is dated
1614; and records the premature death of the " excellent gentil-
uoman A. C. [Agnes Cuningham] sister to ye Laird of Caprin-
toun," Ayrshire.
1827.
SECTION III.
SONGS AND BALLADS,
TRADITIONAL AND SELECTED.
BALLADS AND SONGS,
TRADITIONAL AND SELECTED.
LORD DELAWARE.
IN the Parliament House,
A great rout has been there,
Betwixt our good King
And the Lord Delaware:
Says Lord Delaware
To his Majesty full soon,
Will it please you, my Liege,
To grant me a boon?
What's your boon, says the King,
Now let me understand?
It's, give me all the poor men
We've starving in this land;
And without delay, I'll hie me
To Lincolnshire,
To sow hemp-seed and flax-seed,
And hang them all there.
136 LORD DELAWARE.
For with hempen cord its better
To stop each poor man's breath,
Than with famine you should see
Your subjects starve to death.
Up starts a Dutch Lord,
Who to Delaware did say,
Thou deservest to be stabb'd !
Then he turn'd himself away:
Thou deservest to be stabb'd,
And the dogs have thine ears,
For insulting our King
In this Parliament of peers ;
Up sprang a Welsh Lord,
The brave Duke of Devonshire,
In young Delaware's defence, I'll fight
This Dutch Lord, my Sire.
For he is in the right,
And I'll make it so appear:
Him I dare to single combat,
For insulting Delaware.
A stage was soon erected,
And to combat they went,
For to kill, or to be kill'd,
It was cither's full intent.
But the very first flourish,
When the heralds gave command,
The sword of brave Devonshire
Bent backward on his hand ;
LORD DELAWARE. 137
In suspense he paused awhile,
Scann'd his foe before he strake,
Then against the king's armour,
His bent sword he brake.
Then he sprang from the stage,
To a soldier in the ring,
Saying, " Lend your sword, that to an end
This tragedy we bring:
Though he's fighting me in armour,
While I am fighting bare,
Even more than this I'd venture,
For young Lord Delaware."
Leaping back on the stage,
Sword to buckler now resounds,
Till he left the Dutch Lord
A bleeding in his wounds:
This seeing, cries the King
To his guards without delay,
" Call Devonshire down,
Take the dead man away ! "
No, says brave Devonshire,
I've fought him as a man,
Since he's dead, I will keep
The trophies I have won;
For he fought me in your armour,
While I fought him bare,
And the same you must win back, my Liege,
If ever you them wear.
138 THE BONNY LASS o' COWRIE.
God bless the Church of England,
May it prosper on each hand,
And also every poor man
Now starving in this land;
And while I pray success may crown
Our king upon his throne,
I'll wish that every poor man,
May long enjoy his own.
An imperfect copy of the foregoing interesting Ballad, was
'noted down by us from the singing of a gentleman in this city,
which has necessarily been re-modelled and smoothed down to the
present measure, without any other liberties, however, having
been taken with the original narrative, which is here carefully
preserved as it was committed to us, while the spirit of our origi-
nal, so far as our endeavours were competent for the task, has been
retained throughout. We have not, as yet, been able to trace out
the historical incident upon which the Ballad appears to have been
founded, yet those curious in such matters may consult, if they
list, " Proceedings and Debates in the House of Commons, for
1621 and 1622," where they will find that some stormy debatings
in these several years, have been agitated in Parliament regarding
the Corn Laws, which bear pretty close upon the leading features
of the above. The air is beautiful, and peculiar to the Ballad.
THE BONNY LASS O' GOWRIE.
A wee bit north frae yon green wood,
Whare draps the sunny showerie,
The lofty elm-trees spread their boughs,
To shade the braes o' Gowrie;
An' by yon burn ye scarce can see,
There Stan's a rustic bowerie,
Whare lives a lass mair dear to me,
Than a' the maids in Gowrie.
THE BONNY LASS o' COWRIE. 139
Nae gentle bard e'er sang her praise,
'Cause fortune ne'er left dowrie;
The rose blaws sweetest in the shade,
So does the flower o' Gowrie.
When April strews her garlands roun',
She barefoot treads the flowrie;
Her sang gars a' the woodlands ring,
That shade the braes o' Gowrie.
Her modest blush an' downcast e'e,
A flame sent beating through me;
For she surpasses all I've seen,
This peerless flower o' Gowrie.
I've lain upon the dewy green
Until the evening hourie,
An' thought 'gin ere I durst ca' mine,
The bonnie lass o' Gowrie.
The bushes that o'erhang the burn,
Sae verdant an' sae flowerie,
Can witness that I love alane,
The bonnie lass o' Gowrie.
Let ithers dream, an' sigh for wealth,
An' fashions fleet an' flowery,
Gie me that harnely innocence
Upon the braes o' Gowrie.
Revised from an old stall copy, which ascribes the composition
of the original Ballad to a COL. JAMES RAMSAY of Stirling Castle.
140 THE EWE LAMB.
THE EWE LAMB.
I'LL gie thee jewels, an' I'll gie thee rings,
I'll gie thee pearls, an' many fine things,
I'll gie thee silk petticoats fringed to the knee,
If thou'lt lea'e father an' mother, an' marry wi' me.
I'll nane o' your jewels, I'll nane o' your rings,
I'll nane o' your pearlings nor ither fine things,
Nor skyrin silk petticoats fringed to the knee,
But I'll lea' father an' mother, an' marry wi' thee.
But my father's a shepherd, wi' his flocks on yon hill,
Ye may gang to the auld man, an' ask his gude-will:
Indeed will I, Jeanie, an' bring answer to thee,
Sae, amang the berry-bushes 'gin gloamin meet me.
Good-morrow, old father! ye're feeding your flock;
Will you grant me a ewe-lamb to bring up a stock?
Indeed will I, Jamie, says he, frank an' free:
Sae, amang the berrie-bushes, my Jeanie met me.
How blyth look'd young Jamie, as he took her by the hand,
Syne up before the old man this young couple stand;
Says, this is the ewe-lamb that I ask'd of thee,
'Twas amang the berry-bushes this young thing met me.
foul fa' thee, Jamie, thou hast me beguil'd,
1 little thought the ewe-lamb thou ask'd was my child;
But since it is sae, that in love you agree,
My blessing gang wi' ye, my dochter, quoth he.
THE YOUNG MAN'S DREAM. 141
The foregoing Pastoral is noted down from recitation; one or
two of the intermediate stanzas appear to be common with the
North-country Ballad of the " Laird of Drum." The air is
sweetly plaintive, and peculiar to itself.
THE YOUNG MAN'S DREAM.
WHEN wint'iy storms keep yelling round,
By the blazing hearth we are oftenest found;
But in summer, when the fields are dry,
To the hunting goes my dog and I.
As my dog and I went down yon glen,
I smiled to a maiden who smiled again,
As tripping lightly o'er the bent,
To milk her ewes by the bughts she went.
maiden mine, I have dream'd a dream ;
Beneath the storm and the lightning's gleam,
1 seem'd to lean on this branching oak,
When the black clouds met, and the tempest broke
Above my lorn head, and fired the tree,
Where, chill'd and trembling thou clung by me;
Oh! deep and deathlike was thy swoon,
As the thunders peal'd, and the rains fell down.
Some kinder rain-drops than the rest,
On thy lily brow and scarce heaving breast,
Fell pattering down, and the deep swoon broke
With a sigh and shiver, to life thou woke.
142 THE SWAIN'S RESOLVE.
I kiss'd the cold drops off, one by one,
Till thou gazed on me as the sun
Burst through, and chased the dense clouds away,
And the closed flowers spread to the sunny day.
She smiled, and said, " When you dream again,
Some fairer vision may change your strain;
And wealth and beauty may meet your view
So begone, young man, for I love not you:
I love no pears, I love no plums,
Nor dreams that fade when the morning comes;
But I love the cherry that grows on yon tree,
So does my true-love, where'er he be."
A few lines of " The Young Man's Dream," are adopted from
an old free traditional Ballad, that has nearly faded from our recol-
lection ; while the rest is original. The air is common with a
good many of our West-country chaunts of the same measure.
THE SWAIN'S RESOLVE.
I once lov'd a maid, though she slighted me,
Because I had lately grown poor;
And she stole, before I wist it, my poor heart away,
And she'll keep it for ever more.
I went to my love's chamber-door one night,.
And I knock'd, her favour to win ;
Without doubt my love arose, and slipp'd on her clothes,
Ere she came down to let me in.
THE SWAIN'S RESOLVE. 143
As soon as I saw my true-love's face,
My heart grew light and fain,
And I clasp'd her round the middle so small,
And kiss'd the dear maid again.
She cries to the cock, saying, thou must not crow,
Until that the day be worn ;
And thy wings shall be made of the silvery gray,
And thy voice of the silver horn.
As homeward I hied o'er yon lofty hill,
The wind it blew high and cold,
Then I wish'd I were safe by my true-love's side again,
Her fair form once more to enfold.
Oh I'll be as constant to my true love,
As the dial is to the sun ;
And if she will not be the very same to me,
She is far better lost than won.
Noted down partly from recollection, but chiefly from the re-
citation of the gentleman who has favoured us with the Ballads of
Lord Delaware, and the Ewe Lamb. The air is peculiarly lively
and beautiful, and well merits preservation; which, along with
the Ballad itself, seems peculiar to Ayrshire; and, so far as we
are aware, neither the one nor the other have ever yet been com-
mitted to paper. The fourth stanza here, appears in common with
one in the " Gray Cock," " Saw ye my Father," &c. ; in other
points the twain are different, whilst their respective melodies are
altogether dissimilar.
144 THE MILK MAIDS* REQUEST.
THE MILK MAIDS' REQUEST.
THREE maidens a-milking did go,
Three maidens a-milking did go,
The wind it blew high,
And the wind it blew low,
Which tossed their pails to and fro.
They met a young swain whom they knew,
They met a young swain that they knew,
They asked of him
If he had any skill,
How to catch them a small bird or two.
O yes, I have very good skill,
yes, I've got very good skill,
If you'll go along with me,
To the bonnie green-wood tree,
1 will catch you a bird to your will.
To the merry green-wood as they went,
To the merry green-wood as they went,
The small birds were singing
Upon ilka green tree,
While the gay rose above the lily bent.
Ripe berries are soft to the touch,
Ripe berries are soft to the touch,
And the birds of a feather,
They will all flock together,
Let the people say little or much.
From recollection; air plaintive and pastoral.
BILLY BOY. 145
BILLY BOY.
MAN the boat, all hands aboard, Billy boy, Billy boy,
Mark the signal, hands aboard, Billy boy,
Each moving, thrilling word,
As I steer from my adored
Lovely Nancy, says thy fancy, lingers round thy darling boy.
Is the maid so dear to thee, Billy boy, Billy boy?
Is her heart with thee at sea, Billy boy?
The maid is dear to me,
As the bark is to the tree,
Since my Nancy won my fancy, I'm her darling Billy boy.
Worth and merit bids thee prove, Billy boy, Billy boy,
If she's meet to be thy love, Billy boy;
She's as meet to be my love,
As the hand is for the glove,
Since my Nancy won my fancy, I'm her darling Billy boy.
Can the maid thou would'st adore, Billy boy, Billy boy,
Row or steer the boat ashore, Billy boy?
She can row the boat ashore,
With the paddle or the oar,
Thus my Nancy won my fancy, I'm her darling Billy boy.
Then a health to thine and thee, Billy boy, Billy boy,
We will pledge when on the sea, Billy boy;
And when heaven wills again,
Our return from o'er the main,
May thy Nancy find thy fancy still the same, my Billy boy.
146 POOR AULD MAIDENS.
In the foregoing attempt, we have taken the liberty of re-
modelling and pruning the intermediate stanzas of an old free
traditional Ballad, bearing the same choral terminations of " Billy
boy;" while the first and concluding verses are necessarily ori-
ginal, by way of completing the chant. The air, tradition has
attached to it, is peculiarly lively and spirit-stirring; and ap-
proaches pretty near that of our own Song, " Kelvin Grove," or,
as an amateur would say, to an ear-set of " Robie dun a gorach."
POOR AULD MAIDENS.
THREE score and ten of us,
Poor auld maidens!
Three score and ten of us,
Poor auld maidens!
Three score and ten of us,
Lame, and blind, and comfortless,
Without a penny in our purse,
Poor auld maidens !
Yet we bear a willing mind,
Poor auld maidens!
Yet we bear a willing mind,
Poor auld maidens!
Yet we bear a willing mind,
If we a young man could but find,
For to kiss the lame and blind,
Nor die auld maidens.
Oh but young men are unco nice,
Poor auld maidens!
THE AULD WIFE O* LAUDERDALE. 147
Oh but young men are unco nice,
Poor auld maidens !
Oh but young men are unco nice,
And auld men's offers we despise;
Oh ! we'll get leave to shut our eyes,
An' die auld maidens.
But oh ! gin we were young again,
Poor auld maidens!
But oh ! gin we were young again,
Poor auld maidens !
But oh! gin we were young again,
We nae mair would lie our lane,
For we despise the scornfu' name
O' poor auld maidens!
Noted down from the singing of a Lady, we never having met
with the original in print. The modern song of " Nice Young
Maidens" has doubtlessly been metaphrased from the above. The
air is a tolerable one of its class, lively, and peculiar to the Ballad.
THE AULD WIFE O' LAUDERDALE.
IN Lauderdale there lived a wife,
As canty a carline's ever was seen;
Her gudeman began to drap wi' age,
While she was rosy, fresh, an' green:
The auld wife in Lauderdale,
The queer auld wife in Lauderdale;
At forty she had tooth and nail,
The canty auld wife o' Lauderdale.
148
She growl'd on Tammie day an' night,
An' wonder'd aye that he should fail;
An' ca'd him syne a silly wight,
Else he might cast anither spale:
The auld wife in Lauderdale,
The queer auld wife in Lauderdale;
She thought that Tammie never should fail!
The rosy auld wife in Lauderdale.
Youth, health, and strength are dauntless chiels,
When they in a' their vigour shine;
But hirplin hostin' age comes on,
An' fun and frolics maun decline:
This ken'd the man in Lauderdale,
The douse auld man o' Lauderdale;
He fan' his strength beginning to fail,
An' parts to cool in Lauderdale.
A wonder-working doctor cam'
To Dunse, wha' cured the blin' an' lame;
She ran to Dunse withouten fail,
To ease her pains in Lauderdale :
I've come this day frae Lauderdale,
I'm sure ye've heard o' Lauderdale,
O' ilka place it is the wale,
The sweet an' pleasant Lauderdale.
O doctor, doctor, tent my moan,
I maun tell you a mournfu' tale :
My Tammie's auld an' cauldrife grown,
While I am blooming fresh and hale;
THE AULD WIFE o' LAUDERDALE. 149
wad ye come to Lauderdale,
Ye maun come east to Lauderdale;
An' pass your skill on Tammie's ail,
The sleepy auld man o' Lauderdale.
1 wauk a' night, an' sleep get nane,
While he is snoring soun' an' leal;
I might as weel lie by a stane,
Or ony rotten auld fir dail:
I've weary nights in Lauderdale,
I sigh an' sab in Lauderdale ;
Now ye'll hae medicine, I'se be bail,
To ease our waes in Lauderdale.
ay, the doctor smiling said,
I think that I cou'd cure your ail;
But ye maun change auld Tammie's food,
To birsled pease, an' butter'd ale :
Birsled pease in Lauderdale,
Butter'd ale in Lauderdale;
Gie Tammie that at ilka meal,
'Twill cheer his auld heart in Lauderdale.
The auld wife now gaed cantie hame,
Sae gleg an' donsie o'er the dale;
And pray'd and wis'd that Tammie's teeth
Would maup the pease in Lauderdale :
Birsled pease in Lauderdale,
Quo' the snod auld wife o' Lauderdale;
1 wis' and houp our Tammie's teeth
May crack the pease in Lauderdale.
150 UP Wl' THE WIDOW.
Now a' ye wives baith far and near,
Whenever your men begin to fail;
Ye needna' youk, an' growl, an' ban,
Do like the carline in Lauderdale :
Butter'd ale in Lauderdale,
Birsled pease in Lauderdale;
A peck o' pease will cure your ail,
It cured the auld man's in Lauderdale.
The foregoing spirited and graphic Ballad is noted down
from recitation, we never having met with the original in print.
The penultimate stanza, for the sake of connection, is original, as
the one which stood in its place had escaped the memory of our
fair minstrel.
UP WI' THE WIDOW.
WELCOME, my Johnny, beardless an' bonny,
Ye're my conceit, though I'm courted by mony;
Come to the spence, my ain merry ploughman,
Make it your hame, ye'll be baith het an' fu', man:
Baith het an' fu', man, baith het an' fu', man,
Make it your hame, ye'll be baith het an' fu', man.
Gin ye be tentie, ye shall hae plenty,
Year after year, I hae dotted a renty,
Byres fu' o' horse an' kye, barns fu' o' grain, man,
Bukes fu' o' notes, an' a farm o' your ain man ;
WHEN I WAS A YOUNG MAN. 151
At market or fair, man, ye may be there, man,
Buying or selling, wi' plenty to ware, man,
Dress'd like a laird, in the bravest an' warmest,
On a guide beast, you'll ride up wi' the foremost.
Taupie young lassies, keeking in glasses,
Wasting their siller on trinkets an' dresses,
Think wi' yoursel', Johnny tak wha ye may do,
Ye may do war than draw up wi' the widow,
Up wi' the widow, up wi' the widow,
Ye may do war than draw up wi' the widow.
This cleverly descriptive Song of its class, was several years
ago, noted down by us, from the singing of a lady. We never have
seen it in print, among the numerous Song collections turned
over in quest of it, nor ever since or before heard it sung; yet
from the perfect manner in which we found it, we do not think it
can be an old one, nor is the piece, for rustic humour, and paint-
ing, unworthy the pen of the Ettrick Shepherd himself.
WHEN I WAS YOUNG MAN.
WHEN I was a young man, O then, O then,
When I was a young man, O then,
I'd a horse for to ride,
With a sword by my side,
And the world it went rarely with me, then, O then,
the world it went rarely with me, then.
1 married a wife, O then, O then,
I married a wife, O then:
152 WHEN I WAS A YOUNG MAN.
My saddle and my bridle
Turn'd to rocking a cradle,
And the world it went worse with me then, just then,
O the world it went worse with me then.
My wife she fell sick, O then, O then,
My wife she fell sick, O then,
She droop'd, and fell sick,
And a fever followed it,
So the world went poorly with me then, O then,
the world it went poorly with me then.
My wife she did die, O then, just then
My poor wife did die, O then,
I tried for to sigh
As I found I could not cry,
Though the world went so ill with me then, just then,
Though the world went so ill with me then.
1 buried my wife, O then, O then,
I buried my wife, O then,
I laid her in her grave,
And retura'd brisk and brave,
For the world was before me, just then, even then,
The world was now before me, again.
As homeward I hied me, O then, O then,
I chanced for to spy me, just then,
A young blooming lass,
Who was viewing in her glass,
What a beauty I thought her just then, even then,
So my heart follow'd after, just then.
I AM TOO YOUNG. 153
I married this maiden, O then, O then,
Old griefs were fast fading, just then,
But soon she turn'd a sot,
And lov'd her pipe and pot,
So I wish'd for my old wife, again, again,
O I wish'd my old wife back again.
So I went to her grave, O then, O then,
Past follies were now in their wane,