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Broken Hierarchies Poems 1952 2012 1st Edition
Geoffrey Hill Digital Instant Download
Author(s): Geoffrey Hill, Kenneth Haynes (editor)
ISBN(s): 9780199605897, 0199605890
Edition: 1
File Details: PDF, 12.53 MB
Year: 2014
Language: english
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 SCOTTISH SONGS. 89 [AVrittkn by Burns in May, 1795, for
Mr. Thomson's collection. Tune, " Iluniours of Glen." " Bums," says
Dr. Currie, " WTOte professedly for the peasantry of his country, and
by them their native dialect is universally relished. To a numerous
class of the natives of Scotland of another description, it may also be
considered as attractive in a different point of view. Estranged from
their native soil, and spread over foreign lands, the idiom of their
country unites with the sentiments and descriptions on which it is
employed, to recall to their minds the interesting scenes of infancy
and youth — to awaken many pleasing, many tender recollections.
For Scotsmen of this description more particularly. Burns seems to
have written his song. Their groves o' sweet myrtle, a beautiful
strain, which, it may be confidently predicted, will be sung with
equal or superior interest on the banks of the Ganges or of the
Mississippi, as on those of the Tay or the Tweed."] TirEiR groves o'
sweet myrtle let foreign lands reckon, Where bright-beaming
simimers exalt the perfume. Far dearer to me yon lone glen o' green
breckan, "Wi' the bui-n stealing under the lang yellow broom ; Far
dearer to me are yon humble broom bowers, "Where the blue-bell
and gowan lurk lowly unseen ; For there, lightly tripping amang the
wild flowers, A-listening the linnet, aft wanders my Jean. Though
rich is the breeze in their gay simny valleys. And cauld Caledonia's
blast on the wave ; Their sweet-scented woodlands that skirt the
proud palaw. What are they ? The haunt of the tjTant and slave I
The slave's spicy forests, and gold-bubbling fountains, The brave
Caledonian views with disdain ; He wanders as free as the winds of
his mountains. Save love's willing fetters, the chains o' his Jean 1
[The first four lines of this song belong to an old stall baUad called "
The strong walls of Derry." 1 iie rest were added by Burns for
Johnson's Museum. Tune, " Failte na Miosg." My heart's in the
Highlands, my heart is not here ; My heart's in the Hignlands, a-
chasing the deer ; Chasing the wild deer, and following the roe ; Jly
heart's in the Highlands wherever I go. Farewell to the Highlands,
farewell to the north. The birth-place of valour, the country of worth
; Wherever I wander, wherever I rove, Tlie hills of the Highlands for
ever I love. Farewell to the mountains high cover'd with snow ;
Farewell to the straths and green valleys below; Farewell to the
forests and wild-hanging woods ; Farewell to the torrents and loud-
pouring floods. My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here; My
heart's in the HighLinds a-chasing tlie deer; Chasing the wild deer,
and following the roe. My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go.
The text on this page is estimated to be only 7.45%
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OO scomsH sovotf. ifHomRtuf of B«iioiK. (TitM

^pMwwtoo,»— AnriMiwHhiO»>fc>» •ritiowBV.- MrIai*iMirtliitii
—«miMi>t>fr%fauJ iiii, PMIBBA pouf ■ BJflli^ H JmW #C MOTS
IlMBSlii MSk wa>wrtt»wi.Midtt>— lwlw,tyniiHiMill—rt
|i,pinhiiii4»acU^K« <>iiw«niuMli,lMj Bia im kt BUHlt his €rimM MbM
M. Mairfe •Mm : •* Ab4 gnat, bMMrtBl «M« sTtaOTM," wM tlin tk*
** That I najr pM«» Hb auk or koMw M «k» dvlM, h* giafvd tt with
Ui ■wwO, Aad Mlv«v«d to Um Boir Uod tiM bMUMT oThk lord t Tbqr
owid tiM coaqMik to Ui arm, Md IhM his Bigi ki " Ths h«rt tteft hM
tor hoaow bMl, fegr Utai »isi bs rvi My dMghtor iMbsl and thoa ihiUl
bs a wsMid pair. ycrthsaartbiawstofthshBiTS shs Mmfccf thstoir." That
owhss a paiadlH oo safth, ir hMTto aad laa* sonUasi Aad amy lotd
aad hKly brithi thaft aw* la « Orisd, *« HaaovMd ba tha b (Tax*
popalar sliala was wtitttn by W iluam Locaa Aar^—Taaa, ** Ths
Dail^ Glaa.' * 8Ata,«lr«aanyhsart, wheal partod ftas aqr Jaaa, Aa*
Mb, Hdr I righ^d white ths t«ur stood la oqr sea, For my daddte h
bat poor, and aay tetoaa tosaa sbm'. It san ma IsaTs my aativa
Ghtedoaia. Wh«a I thlnli oa ths days aow gaas, aa' m» happyis I
ha^ b««a» White wand'ring wl' my dsar, whsM ths priavess btews
aasiia, I 'm was to Icatrs my lasris. aad my daddism riapte ha*. Or
ths hilte an' hsalthAa' bncss C Ostedsnia Bat whsrasar I wmadsr, stiO
happy ba asy Jaaa, Naa saia distaib hsr bosom, whsrs paass has
s««r bssa , Thaa tho* iUs oa Ute bsto* BM, •» hir III bsar thsm a',
ThoaghaAIIihsavsarighteChlsdoate. « Bat shoaU ifchss a^sr bs
mtaM, aad lay Jsaate sUn praas tras^ Thaa Maw ya tirriaff biasass,
tin my aattea tead I visw : Thaa m kaasi oa Seotlali ihoas, white tha
hsaitMt toar shaD C-.
 SCOTTISH SONGS. gl l.anli o' t^e Ech!» ■ ^> Then Bell,
my wife, who lo'es nae strife. She said to me richt hastilie. Get up,
gudeman, save Crummie's life. [For many years It remained a
mystery who And tak' your auld cloak about ye •was the author of
this song, and very generally it was attributed to the pen of Burns. It
is now My Crummie is a usefu* cow. known to be the production of
Lady Nairne, the A nd she is come of a good kin' , authoress of
seyeral other popular songs, i Aft has she wet the bairns's mou'. And
I am laith that she should tyne; I'm wearing awa', Jean, Get up,
gudeman, it is fu' time. Like snaw when it is thaw, Jean ; The sun
shines frae the lift sae hie; I'm wearing awa', Jean, Sloth never
made a gracious end; To the land o' the leal. Gae, tak' your auld
cloak about ye. There's nae sorrow there, Jean, There's neither
cauld nor care, Jean, My cloak was ance a gude grey cloak. The day
is aye fair, Jean, When it was fitting for my wear ; In the land o' the
leal. But now it's scantly worth a groat, JFor I have worn't this
thretty year: Ye were aye leal and true, Jean, Let's spend the gear
that we ha'e won. Your task's ended now, Jean, We little ken the day
we'll die ; And I'll welcome you Then I'll be proud, since I have
sworn To the land o' the leal. To ha'e a new cloak about me. Our
bonnie bairn's there, Jean, She was baith guid and fair, Jean, In days
when our King Robert rang. And we grudged l.er right sair His trews
they cost but half a croun ; To the land o' the leal. He said they were
a groat ower dear. And ca'd the tailor thief and loon: Then dry that
tearfu' e'e, Jean, He was the king that wore a croun. My soul langs
to be free, Jean, And thou the man of laigh degree: And angels wait
on me It's pride puts a' the country doun ; To the land o' the leal.
Sae tak' your auld cloak about ye. Now, fare ye weel, my ain Jean,
This warld's care is vain, Jean, Ilka land has its ain lauch. Well meet
and aye be fain Ilk kind o' corn has its ain hool ; In the land o' the
leal. I think the world is a' gane wrang, When ilka wife her man wad
rule: Do ye no see Rob, Jock, and Hab, As they are girded gajlantlie.
^^2 mu eiOHi, While I sit huyklin i' the aese ?— I'll ha'e a new cloak
about me. [The antiquity of this song is sufficiently proved
Gudeman, I wat its thretty year from a fragment of it being quoted
in Shakspeare's Sin' we did ane anither ken ; Iragcdy of Othello,
published in 1611. Bishop And we ha'e had atween us twa Percy
gives an English version of the song in his Of lads and bonnie lasses
ten : Reliques of Ancient Poetry, admitting, at the Now tht y are
women grown and men. ^ same time, that the song is originally
Scotch. 1 wish and pray weel may they be ; The following is the
Scottish version, which apIf you would prove a gude husband. pears
in Ramsay's Tea-Table Miscellany.] E'en tak' your auld cloak about ye.
In winter, when the rain rain'd cauld. Bell, my wife, she lo'es nae
strife. And frcst and snaw on ilka hill. But she would guide me, if she
can ; And Boreas, wi' his blasts sae bauldj, And to maintain an easy
life, Was threafnin' a' our kye to kill : ;; ^ I aft maun jleld, though
Im gudeman : 1
The text on this page is estimated to be only 9.56%
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92 WOTTMR tOIIOa. ir«kt% t» b* firibi'd at fraoMnl hand,

UnlMi y» gilt her »• tfa* pim: nn m kave air whm 1 1 And tak* my
aukl ek [Tan t*as lacoftwd by DarU B«d, aad piibfchad ia tha waoad
adittop «f lik buBmIIihi, im TlMra to aa eU ■oog eaUad "Jokai bat to
soniawbat toe aoana te estnwt.] It Ml abaat tha MarttaoBaa tlm^
And a gay tfant It was thaa, Whm oar gndawlfe got pnddtngi to
mak', Aad iha boU^d thn la tha pan. Tha wind mm eaaU blaw aoath
aad north. And bltw Into tha floor: Mynlaatodot iBiMtonHy jtoaaa
aia^ Bat wlHi caa thiak aaa a* Ikn Otoa ^ My* Hall giv aw gade
hoador aaato toa Ba^ If ira ofdala«d I maoa tak* htaa, O, wha Willi
get bat Tua Otoo^ My heart to ny BMa' glad a atoa t For thriea I
dnw aaa withaat MBa*, Aadthrinttwaaa
 SCOTTISH SOJs'GB. 93 The last Hallowe'en I was waukin' 4
-^i&e HilamtiE m,ik. My drookit sark-sleeve, as ye ken ; His likeness
cam' up the house staukin'. And the very gray breeks o' Tarn Glen.
[Allan Cunningham.] Come, counsel, dear tittie, don't tarry ; NiTH,
trembling to the reaper's sang. I'll gi'e you my bonnie black hen.
Warm glitter'd in the harvest sun. Gif ye will advise me to marry And
murmured down the lanesome glen. The lad I lo'e dearly, Tam Glen.
Where a wife of wanton Avit did won. Her tongue wagged wi' unhaly
wit. Unstent by kirk or gospel bann , An' aye she wished the kirkyard
mools "E^t Cade. Green growing o'er her auld gudeman. Her auld
gudeman drapped in at e'en. [From Eamsay's Tea-Table Miscellany.
There Wi' harvest heuk— sau- toiled was he ; IS an older version of
the same song given in Sma' was his cog and cauld his kail.
Thomson's Orpheus Caledonius, pubUshed in 1725.] Yet anger never
raised his e'e ; He blessed the little, and was blithe. The carle he
cam' ower the craft. While spak' tlie dame, wi' clamorous tongue, Wi'
his beard new-shaven ; 0 sorrow cLap your auld beld pow. He
looked at me as he'd teen daft,— And dance wi' ye to the mools,
gudeman ! The carle trowed that I wad ha'e him. Hout awa' ! I
winna ha'e him ! He hang his boilnet on the pin. Na, forsooth, I
winna ha'e him ! And down he lay, his dool to drie ; For a' his beard
new-shaven. While she sat singing in the neuk. Ne'er a bit o' me will
ha'e him. And tasting at the barley bree. The lark, 'mid morning's
siller gray. A siller brooch he ga'e me neist, That wont to cheer him
warkwai-d gaun. To fasten on my curchie nookit ; Next morning
missed amang the dew I wore 't a wee upon my breist. The blithe
and dainty auld gudeman. But soon, alake! the tongue o't crookit;
And sae may his ; I winna ha'e him ' The third mom's dew on flower
and tree Na, forsooth, I winna ha'e hun ! 'Gan glorious in the sun to
glow. Twice-a-bairn's a lassie's jest; When sung the wanton wife to
mark Sae ony fool for me may ha'e him. His feet gaun foremost o'er
the knowe. The first flight o' the winter's rime The carle has nae
fault but ane ; That on the kirkyard sward had faun. For he has land
and dollars plenty , The wanton wife skiffed aff his grave. But, waes
me for him, skin and bane A-kirking wi' her new gudeman. Is no for
a plump lass of twenty. Hout awa', I winna ha'e him ! A dainty dame
I wat was she. Na, forsooth, I winna. ha'e him ! High brent and
burnished was her brow. What signifies his dirty riggs. 'Mang lint-
locks curling ; and her lips And oiish, without a man wi' them ? Twin
daisies dawned through honey dew. And light and loesome in the
dance. But should my cankert daddie gar When ha' was het, or kirn
was won ; Me tak* him 'gainst my inclination. Her breasts twa drifts
o* purest snaw. I warn the fumbler to beware In cauld December's
bosom faun. That antlers dinna claim their station. Hout awa' ! I
winna ha'e him ! But lang ere winter's winds blew by. Na, forsooth, I
winna ha'e him ! She skirled in her lonesome bow ; I'm fleyed to
crack the holy band. Her new gudeman, wi' hazle rung. Sae lawty
says, I should na ha'e him. { ^ Began to kame her wanton pow.
The text on this page is estimated to be only 6.36%
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01 SCOmra 80568. Toam fivw iHT ktat aad caold ha> pn.
And dn%h and 4o«te wmnd tlw Blsht, ^ In Mm wemi been tlHU aiy
mM ■MMTiVa*, !>• nft b«a At' vMitr ite* I «M a MM, 8be drMvy Ml
IwMi wted im^ Her chMk B«^ dta^lad imo nMh; Unlfteppit, bMrifav
OM « And hii—w hMintil n» And «• th* tans fli- frn* IMT MO, IM
now, wtea tM Idffe or tM MMkM I fBS My wMlfcw, trtMtt nwd 1 1»
Mdki' o^» I diBk at «B IV7 tiw fMte* «rt. Imtt tunuiond I mM'd
egfcnr btm ItedilBfBadlMliatliMMHa**^ («lMr, ] ir«wMt, [WniTTBii by
A. Scott, to tht tan* «r "TIm fl Or bnnld n^ft^ wtum, wl* hU, mam,
m alMt, ®f^f flfiOif ;^afmn. BMkand tb« Wm Ptekto IVm."] In now
a gndt A«nMr, I>> mm An' my hmrt iV* lonva Bfli» n An' I te'o
MTvnnti M Mr aoMMi ■ I'M vlmrln' I. lot. rIn'oX My ftiM li n MMV MM,
Um hl|k on a Mnir, Tbo Mair-eoalB an' plt«M» aft ifeM at my door.
An' whna Urn Ay lown I'm ayi mio o' • •bow y, To MolMM My bwd tor
Um plowln' ot. LccM Mt on tlM maOln Ifcat^ to-n to my •harr. It Mbi
MX MMkb bowM tor iho Mwin' oti I^ MX bMM aowM fbr pMlvn, an*
BMlr. And a telnly bit bog te Iha Mawln* of. A iiiMw an'nbliiit iii My
iimiiliia biiMi gi^M, l*vt a oamio «M wttt to dant whan I ptanM, Twa
balmlM, twn MOans. tbnt abrtp owor tbo has. An* tboy*!! aoon mn
aoitet at tbt pb»wln' o'U My bigsan Hand* rwwt on tblt oooth ilopln'
bin. An' tho nn tbinM mo bonnUy bMtmln' on'l. An* paot My door
troti a dMr piattttn* iflt, Fna tbo lod^ w4iar» tlM wOd dneka aio
«wlM> Mln'oot^ An' on to gn«i banks, «k tho fay MMMM dayi. My
wlflo trtpo banfcot. a-blM«hlm iMr daoi. An' on tbo dMr bimIuw wl*
raptaro I gOM, WbUt I whtatlo and ring at tbo ptowla* ot. To rank
amang fluncn I hatt maeUt prldi^ Bvt I naona ^Mak high whan I'm
toUin* et. How brawUa I strut on my ilMltio to fido, Wr a nunpit to
abow ftir tbo oelUn' o'U Voro i;aa'bo I* ox An* on tko dowfAgn.
whaa tend hMitaMM bkiw Fn* Mag 1* tho ipoMo I'D bo vWwtai*
o*t. An* JWI tiM rado Moot In My iMlHthMklt ba*. Whan Mds ara
OMfd np ftno tbo plowin* ox My beulo woo wtto. tbo balraloo, an*
MO. TmdoyoiOMtlMooonlo'toaiViyo^^ (bo^ An* woU MM la gndo
kopM OP tbo pkfwln' ox jbSlUK IttD SlRft* [Wa«TTMilnl808
(dartiVttw alami oTa f la iiibia)by AiinaaweooTT, nowor rMontfy brth«
' - V tai Iko parUb or Dowdon, Ml M*nr In tboir wlHtaM Bko oooc In
wlntor, whan doop woo tbo g And niehro gloomy eanopy opiind, AoU
Hymon oot lontln* bb enttto* And lewiln* bk bntloan kr bal I
 SCOTTISH SONGS. 95 Auld Janet, his wife, out a-gazing, '^
There footmen and yeomen paradin'. To lock in the door was her
care; To scour off in dirdum were seen ; She, seeing our signals a-
blazing, And wives and young lasses a* sheddin' Came rinnin* in
ryving her hair: The briny saut tears frae their een. 0, Symon, the
Frenchies are landit ! Then aflf wl' his bonnet got Symie, Gae look
man, and slip on your shoon ; And to the commander he gaes. Our
signals I see them extendit. Quo' he. Sir, I mean to gae wi' ye. Like
red risin* rays frae the moon. And help ye to lounder our faes :
"What a plague ! the French landit ! quo' Symon, I'm auld, yet I'm
teuch as the wire. And clash gaed his pipe to the wa' : Sae we'll at
the rogues ha'e a dash. Faith, then, there's be loadin* and primin'.
And fegs, if my gun winna fire. Quo' he, if they're landit ava. I'll turn
her but-end and I'll thrash. Our youngest son's in the militia, Well
spoken, my hearty old hero ! Our eldest grandson's volunteer: The
captain did smilin' reply ; O' tlie French to be fti' o' the flesh o'. But
begg'd he wad stay till to-morrow. I too i' the ranks shall appear. Till
day-licht should glent in the sky. His waistcoat-pouch fill'd he wi'
pouther. What reck, a' the stoure cam' to naething. . And bang'd
down his rusty auld gun ; Sae Symon, and Janet his dame. His
bullets he pat in the other. Halescart, frae the wars, without
skaithing. Gaed, bannin' the French, away hame. Then humpled he
out in a hiury, While Janet his courage bewails. And cried out. Dear
Symon, be wary ! #S) mm tiiti 0"J)» And teuchly she hung by his
tails. Let be wi' your kindness, cried Symon, [From a collection of
Jacobite Melodies, pubNor vex me wi' tears and your cares ; lished
at Edinburgh in 1823. This lamentation is For, now^ to be ruled by a
woman. said to relate to an incident connected with the Nae laurels
shall crown my grey hairs. massacre of the Macdonalds of Glenco, in
1691.J Then hear me, quo' Janet, I pray thee. Oh, was not I a weary
wight ? I'll tend thee, love, livin' or deid. Oh ono chri oh ! oh ono
chri oh ! And if thou should fa', I'll dee wi' thee. Maid, wife, and
widow, in one night ! Or tie up thy wounds if thou bleed. Oh ono
chri oh ! &c. Quo' Janet, O, keep frae the riot ! When in my soft and
yielding arms. Last nicht, man, I dreamt ye was deid ; Oh ono chri
oh ! &c. This aught days I tentit a pyot When most I thought him
free from harms. Sit chatfrin' upon the house-held. Oh ono chri oh I
Sec. As yesterday, workin' my stockin'. Even at the dead time of the
night. And you vd' the sheep on the hill. Oh ono chri oh 1 &c. A
muckle black corbie sat croaking; They broke my bower, and slew
my knight. I kend it forebodit some ill. Oh ono chri oh ! &c. Hout,
cheer up, dear Janet, be hearty; With ae lock of his jet black hair.
For, ere the neist sun may gae down. Oh ono chri oh 1 &c. Wha kens
but I'll shoot Bonaparte, I'll tye my heart for ever mair; And end my
auld days in renown. Oh ono chri oh * &c. Syne off in a hurry he
stumpled. Nae sly-tongued youtli, or flattering swain, Wi' bullets, and
pouther, and gun ; Oh ono chri oh ! &c. Af8 curpin auld Janet, too,
humpled Shall e'er untye thU knot again : Awa' to the neist neebour-
toun : ^ A Oh ono chri oh ! &c.
The text on this page is estimated to be only 11.01%
accurate

00 Thtet, MDI, 4«r ytrnth, that bcM Oh OBO chil oh ! tte*

ttot pmt lar aai^t »«• hMm • OhiNwehii«h!*e. BOOITiaH BOVOfl.
®t)e €EraberIttn!U«man« [Tnt huHMiroai ud gnphk ptea !• ftonalty
Meiibad to J A KM y. king or aeotkad, (born laS : ated 1619). Jmdm
V. wu kaown oOm to go la di«niw> •nd Indolfo In froUoi rimllar to
tho ooo Th* ■Im* «M «Md4, ht «M aaif , »»V.
kooAr.aBdOTOMtDklM, ■■■■iwtfct— Xboifat. hm 1mm, mjM. Piaiw
b> hit! MTlAlHlpwaMiB. Tn* pawkto nli AMI* «MW 0^ Ite l« %iri'
mooy gate tftai and di^B to mo. Will jroo lodg« • Mj poor man ? Tho
niebt «ru oanld, the earlo wtm wat. And down ajront the Ingle be
tat; MydOBghter^ eboathen he ■gan to dap, And oadgUy ranted
and «ng. O wQfw ! (too* he, wen I ae ftve. As ftnt when I mw thit
eoontrle. How Uythe and merry wad I bo I And I wad never think
tang. He grew canty, and the grew Ada { But little did her aoU mlany
hm -What thir ilSe twa togethtr were MgnnB* When wooing tbejr
were ne thraag. And O ! qoo' he, an' y were aa biMk Ae e^ the
crown of my daddyli hat. Tie I wad Uy thee by my back. And awa'
wl' me thon thoold gang. And O I qat/ ehe, an' I were at while, Ae
ew the enaw lay on the dfte, I'd deed me braw and faMly like. And
awa' wl' thee I would gang. Between the twa wae made a plot; They
raiee a wee betare the eodi, Aad wttUy they ehot the kKk, And fhet
to the bent are they gaaa. Up In the mom the aald wift ralee, Ao«!
at her Idrnre pat oa bn> daiee : Byne to the Mrvaafi bod the gaaa.
Ton O Or gv fMe, aad ly gar ita, Aad haete ye flad theee tiaytotfl
agala } r» Aeli be hwat, aad heM be ehOa, The wMiifti* gabet huule
watm, tone fade apo' hone, aoiBe taa a fit. The wttt wia wad, aad
oirt «^ IHT wHi flha aoB^d aa png, aar fit ODa^d the dt. Bat aya
aha aanns aa4 *t baaa'd. Faaaag The tana wfl Oatftaaaaawd To lo»
her t» aye, he ga% her hit akh, Qoer aha. Te have thee I wffl be
kith, Mya i wr flBBk aad kni rn wla year bnad, Aad ipladlea aad
whoeiM tar tiMBB wha aaad, WhUkiaageatlet To eany the g 111 bow
my kg, aad craok ay kaaa^ Aad draw a bkMk doat a^ mj oX A
orlppla or bllad th^r «« ••' iH. While wa AaD be MMny aad ala^
 ■ SCOTTISU SONGS. 9^ 4 S? Tho' brighter the landscape,
and blander the air. In climes that look straight to the sun, «< If ^
Uul if^ nm UmxJ' The dearest enjoyments of home are not there.
The chat and the laugh by the hearth's cheering glare. [Edward
Polin, Paisley.— Here first printed.] When day and its laboxirs are
done. It's true, frlen's, it's true. And thus, like the snow-cover'd hills
of their land, An' I'm wae tne confess. Its sons may seem rugged
and rude, That our joy micht be mair, Yet gentler in heart is each
man of the band, An' our grief miclit be less; More kindly in feeling,
more open in hand. But we aye get a moutlifu'. Than all whom the
tropics include. Tliough we wliiles kenna wliar. Sae, 0 ! frien's, be
tlianlcfu'— " It's weel it's nae waur." We've a' dreet tiie girnin' ** ^
%mh ©I^ ftoEg/* 0' cauld gloomin' care. Yet 0' hope's moniin' sang
[Edward Polin, Paisley.— Here first printed.] Ha'e we no luid our
share ? Though the cary he dark whiles. There's aye some bit star. I
HAVK wander'd afar 'neath stranger skies. And have revell'd amid
their flowers. Tae keep us reflectin' I have lived in the light of Italian
eyes. " It's weel it's nae waur." And dream'd in Italian bowers, While
the wond'rous strains of their sunny cliraa We've sicken'd in sorrow
Have been trill 'd to enchant mine ears , At parting to-day, But the
meeting to-morrow But, oh ! how I longed for the song and the time
When my heart could respond with its tears. Can chase it away ;
Then sing me a song, a good old song. An' if some frien's ha'e
wither'd Not the foreign, the learn'd, the grand,— Sin' we were afar.
But a simple song, a good old song We ken whar their banes lie— Of
my own dear father-land. " It's weel it's nae waur." I have heard,
with the great, and the proud, and Our ills ha'e been mony— the
gay. We've a' had our share, All, all they would have me adore. An'
nae doubt we've whiles thocht Of that music divine that, enraptur'd,
they say. That nane could ha'e mair; Can be equall'd on earth never
more ; But yet there are thousan's And it may be their numbers
indeed are divine, Mair wretched by far, Though they move not my
heart through mine Then, 0 ! frien's, be thankfti*— ears. " It's weel
it's nae waur." But a ballad old of the dear *' langsyne" Can alone
claim my tribute of tears. Then sing me a song, &c. ^mthn^. I have
come from a far and a foreign clime To mine own loved haunts once
more, With a yearning for all of my childhood's timij; [Thomas
Smibekt.] And the dear home-sounds of yore i Thk hills of my
country are mantled with snow. And here if there yet be love for i:ie.
Yet, oh ! I but love them the more ; 0 ! away with those strangei
lays. More noble they seem in the sun's setting glow. And now let
my only welcome be Than all that the vales of the Southron can
show, An old song of my boyhood days. When gay wiih the
summer's whole store. ^ ' Then sing me a song, &c. ._.
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98 sooTTisu ■ojroa Saints SaMc. II I1iawtolikanMll«>ib«|.

[Taa Mlowlng mmg, whkh Brmin «nt to
Tbomoa'keoDectSoBiWMiiicidyaa fanpiovamenk •ad •steoilon of »
wag whkh h* had pnvkNwIj oontrlbatnl to JohnMoM Xowam, calbd
** Th» OudeiMr wl* hii piddl*." ** Xtadnlgr Davte," mjt Allan
CDnnlngfaam, *' k Um naiMor an oM aMRjr •ong from which Bonu
haa boriuwtd noUdng nv* the titi* and the mcMaia. It rriatae the
Advcntore of DavM Wllllanuon, a preaehir of the dajrt of the
covenant: he wm panned tgr IM> adl*e diagoone, and HcMnf a
leA^e la the booee of Obeii/uece, the deroat Udjr pot the man of
God taitoa bed hMde her daaghtor, to hUe hha hum the men of
BrtteL The letnm whhli the rpTvend fentlemaa made ftir thie Is mC
fcrth very graphkalljr In the eld vefwe. Tkt Tonng lady •higt— ' Being
panaed bjr a dragoon. Within my bed he was laid down. And weel I
wat he wae worth hie room. My donee, n.y dainty Davto !' ** '*The
tone of Dainty DaTk," a^« Mr. 8len* hmue, " le Ineertad In
PUyfcr«l'e Bandng Maetor. Ant pabtkhed te 1697. Itkckar.
thei«ftMa,tlMU tiieie wae a eong nnder thk title, long belH* the well-
known ttovy ahoat the ftet. SiavU William* •on and the danghtv
ofthe lain! of ChenytNto.*^ Now roey May ooroee In wl' flowen. To
deck her gay green birken bowcfi. And now come in my happy honn.
To wander wi' my Davk. Meet me on the warfodt knewo. Dainty
Davk, dahity Davkt There 111 qtend the day wi' jron. My ain dear
dainty Darie. The erjfwtal waten round n« fh'. The meny birds are
lorert a'. The aoented breeses round as blaw, I wt* nv Dia*k. When
porple morning starts the hare. To steal upon her early Aire, Then
throogb the dews I will repair. To meet my ftkithAi' Dark. ^\)t
Gartout felt' ii$ yaiMe. (Tnii between ** DalB^ Utty," aitd ** Tlw Oai
hittor Bonaa aoBlHha i%M— III. ItkadaptodtoanoMt Td dsek her gay
gi««i'«i * Then bav.ba^ are hkh The gw^'Mr wf hb paMb. The
eryelal waton flSiMly li'l The metty hMi an loean a* t The aoentod
toeane noad Mm UawThe gard*Ber wi* hk paMlB. When parpk
momliv starts the han^ To steal opoo her eaify Au«, Than thrDi«h
the dcwt he HMM The gnd'Mr wt* hk paldla. rwiaalMlonnbe*—
ILttdts VTai^sf. [VBMi the am enl. «r ■■Mi^^i Tsa-Thhk Mkerihuiy,
when H appaon wMb the mark Q, sigttUyiag that It k an okl song
with addlt*oae. Rcpwdhig thk song, Locd Woodhoossles saysi " I
han been hilbnaed, en good aathorfty, thai the wosdi, as prlntsd in
Ramsay^ eeUeetks^ wen writton by the Bon. Doiioam Poaaas, hw<
preeMent .of the Oourt of SesslDn." Itkglnnbi Bamaay to the tone of
** Dainty OaYk."] Wmui Ibps, In safl Italian vene. Ilk ftdr aae^ eea
and brvkt nhaai Whik aaagi abenad, and wit k « ThenlkMlli
 SCOTTISH SONGS. 99 Hut neither darts nor arrows, here, I
^ Venus nor Cupid, shall appear ; Although with these fine sounds, I
swear. ^gtrnw Mt^i^ie* The maidens are delighted. I was aye
telling you, Lucky Nancy, Lucky Nancy, [This old ditty, to its own
tune, appeared in Auld springs wad ding the new. Herd's collection,
1776.] But ye wad never trow me. Symon Brodie had a cow : Nor
snaw with crimson will 1 mix, The cow was lost, and he couldna find
herr To spread upon ray lassie's cheeks ; When he had done what
man could do, And syne the unmeaning name prefix. The cow cam'
hame, and her tail behind her. Miranda, Cloe, Phillis ; Honest auld
Symon Brodie, I'll fetch nae simile frae Jove, Stupid auld doitit bodie
! :My height of ecstacy to prove, I'll awa' to the north countrie. Nor
sighing— thus— present my love And see my ain dear Symon
Brodie. With roses eke and lilies. Symon Brodie had a wife. But, stay
— I had amaist forgot And, wow! but she was braw and bonnie. My
mistress, and my sang to boot. She took the dish-clout aff the bulk.
And that's an unco fiiut, I wot; And preen'd it to her cockernonie.
But, Nancy, 'tis nae matter : Honest auld Symon Brodie, &e. Ye see I
clink my verse vA' rhyme. And ken ye that atones the crime , For
bye, how sweet my numbers chime, And glide away like water ! Now
ken, my reverend sonsy fair. Thy runkled cheeks, and lyart hair. ^|e
Blgrt^wie UtiML Thy half-shut een, and hcddling air. Are a' my
passion's fuel ; [This piece of satiric humour was first pubNae
skyring gowk, my dear, can see. lished in Watson's collection of
Scottish poems. Or love, or grace, or heaven in thee ; 1706, and its
authorship has generally been ascribYet thou hast charms enew for
me ; ed to Francis Semple, Esq. of Bel trees, in RenThen smile, and
be na cruel. frewshire, who lived about the middle of the 17th Leeze
me on thy snawy pow. century. Of late years, however, it has been
Lucky Nancy, Lucky Nancy ; claimed as the composition of Sir
William Scott Dryest wood will eithest low. of Thirlestane, in
Selkirkshire, ancestor of the preAnd, Nancy, sae will ye now. sent
lord Napier. His claim is only supported on the faith of an unbroken
tradition in the Napier Troth, I have sung the sang to you. family. Sir
William was married in 1699 to EliWhich ne'er anither bard wad do ;
zabeth, mistress of Napier, and died in 1725. T%w Hear, then, my
charitable vow. years after his death, a collection of his Latin Dear
venerable Nancy : poems was printed at Edinburgh.] But, if the
world my passion wrang. And say ye only live m sang. Fy let us a' to
the bridal. Ken, I despise a slandering tongue, For ther'll be liltin'
there ; And sing to please my fancy. For Jock's to be married to
Maggie, Tjeeze me on, &c. The lass wi' the gowden hair. And there'U
be langkale and pottage, And bannocks o' barley meal ; And there'll
be good saut hen-in*. To relish a cogue o' gude yill. ; Fy let us a',
&c.
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100 aoomsniovML And tbef^ te Chodk tht ▲od wm wl* tiM

mkkte i And tberaH te 1km Um U« And Aadraw tiM tiaktar. And thmll
bt bow-kgslt Wl' thaml And thtrrn tm Nin ctiwlrtl ▲ad Uwito, the
labd •* I Aad phMki».tei^ Wat cf tte flA { :teppOT-aaMd fyuMto, Md
OOM*. Thai wlat la Um bam ar IIM kUL Tha» la wT blMk BmI* dM
Mol ( Wl* oMCvBa* unit, aad llhM*, Tha iMi that iUi aft ea th» ilooL
Aad thMvH b* Jattea Vadowil*. Aad bUakla' ditft Butaia UmOtgi WV
flM-tafglt ihalnili fcnj Lawrk. Aad $imi^fi»^mu^4 flrtai Mi*. Aad
thmH b* bapp»»Mpyd Vaacte. Aad fldiy-awad PhMrrto by aamr.
Mack Maadk, aad &t-hisstt Orink, Th* laM wt' Um g Aad hit flalklt
wt* Jmmr Bril. Aad mitltthlnao««i Mid ratAult, aad tarlliu. That art
faalth toddta aad taw. AndthereHbtkditti And «Mth o' gudt ftbboda
o* tlnii, PowModie. and diammoek, aad oowdlt. And ealler aowi^btC
OB a piMt: Aad thcrell bt parlq^ aad b«eUt% Aad whjrttat aad
iptldlnt taew. And ringtt ■http-heada aad a hag^ And aciMiUpt to
tap tm jn tftm. And theiv'U bt gndt And wmcntp and Ihritt, aad bapt,
Wl* twatt aad watlttiaptd paindMt. And teandjr la ttonpt aad la
oMptt Aad thtrrn bt nMat-kaO aad kaalotkt, Wl* gldak to tap tai yt
riw; And raatta to rottt oa a biaadtr, or llonka that wm tahte alha.
WtH riw ap aad dtaM IB «• da^ lyiatwa'totktbrtdal. For Jockt to bt
aMtittd to M»§gk», Tha hMi wf tha •tvtfaa telr. I^alloto-fait. ["
HALunr-rAia.- to tht taat aT «* Pjr. Itt at a* to tht bridal." «aa wiltlaa
by Ibt aatotaaato Boaaar raaaotM*. IhtitlUlaiaMiil piiaaitui cf
BHrna.aad im prtatod la tevM r UoaoTlTTL HaBow^Mr li a Mr b
Tnnu^ tartk ar bnw Joakka aod Jaaalto Ooaaai iwl tiatlll lato tht hir,
WHh rlbboaa oa tMr aeehwaaala^ Thai Wmia «aa Had to hb brida I
Tht powalt waa aa^v bal Vt aM WUUa bMklt Mt bnw t Aad flaaitjr ht
aM la tht aWMMt, Aad hM« al Iba ll«aar did aa*. Thtia aaa niaidli,
thai aaal laaad Ma haalt. Ha toak Iha plal-ttoap la ya anM, And
hagptd ll.aad Mid. Ttaath ihty^ Maalt. That loa aa a cuid-lhlh«^
balra. Thtia WM WattK Uw aiabkuid kddb. That rldH oa tha boaala
flap eewt. With twotd bp hk aMt Uht a eadlt To driM la tha thttpaad
tht aavt. Hk deahltl Mt waal it did tl hha. It With hair piMthaMd. hat.
aad a kaihtr. aoatHhathawkMli Pak Wattk ht Ml mi ihi miiij. Aad bitaftl
a* tht baaa ki hk dktak Hk platok Ml oat o* tha haMHt. Aad wn« a'
badaahad wl* dkt, Tha Mk thcp eon' roaad htai la tiaalani Sgma
kaeh, aiid ariad. Lad. WM la hart >
 1 1 SCOTTISH SONGS. JQl But fH>ut wad let naebody
steer him, '■ ^ My daddle '8 a delver o' dykes. He aye \\-as sae
waaton and skeigh ; My mother can card and spin. The packmen's
stands he overturned them. And I'm a fine fodgel lass. And garred a'
the Jocks stand abeigh ; And the siller comes linkin' in j Wi' sneerin'
behind and before him. The siller comes linkin' in. For sic is the
mettle o* brutes. And it is fu' fair to see. Puir Wattie, and wae's me
for him, And fifty times, wow ! 0 wow ! Was fain to gang haine in his
boots. What ails the lads at me ? Now it was late in the e'enJng,
"VVTienever our Bawty does bark. And boughting-time Avas drawing
near; Then fast to the door 1 rin. The lasses had stanched their
greening To see gin ony young spark Wi' fouth C braw apples and
beer. • Will licht and venture but in ; There was LiUie, and Tibbie,
and Sibbie, But never a ane will come in. And Ceiey on the spindle
could spin. Though mony a ane gaes by ; Stood glovsTin' at signs
and glass winnocks. Syne ben the house I rin. But deil a ane bade
them come in. And a weary wicht am I. Gude guide us ! saw ye e'er
the like o't? When I was at my first prayers. See, yonder's a bonnie
black swan ; I pray'd but anes i' the year. It glow'rs as it wad fain be
at us ; I wish'd for a handsome young lad. What's jon tlmt it hauds
in its hand ? And a lad wi' muckle gear. Awa', daft gowk, cries
Wattie, When I was at my neist prayers. They're a* but a ruckle o'
sticks ; I pray'd but now and then. See, there is Hill -Jock and auld
Hawkie, I fash'd na my head about gear. And yonder's Mess John
and auld Nick. If I got a handsome young man. Quoth Maggie,
Come buy us our fairin' ; Now I am at my last prayers. And Wattie
richt sleely could tell, I pray on baith nicht and day. I think thou'rt
the flower o' the clachan,— And, oh, if a beggar wad come. In
trowth, now, I'se gi'e thee mysell. With that same beggar I'd gae.
But wha wad ha' e'er thocht it o' him. And, oh, and what '11 come o'
me! That e'er he had rippled the lint ? And, oh, and what '11 I do !
Sae proud was he o' his Maggie, That sic a braw lassie as I Though
she was baith scaulie and squint. Should die for a wooer, I trow !
^!k|ttt KaEC|}, ^J^ MnUx 0Ht hn%. [This appeare in the first vol. of
Ramsay's TeaTable Miscellany (1724) without any mark. The reader
will discover in it the origin of the English [By J. Maynk, author of "
Logan Braes." See Bong, " Nobody coming to marry me." It is givea
page 24.] in Ramsay to the tune of " Kirk wad let me be."] The
winter sat lang on the spring o' the year. It's I^a'e seven braw new
gouns, Our seedtime was late, and our mailing was dear; And ither
seven better to mak' ; ^ly mither tint her heart when she look'd on
us a', And yet, for a' my new gouns, And we thought upon them that
were farest awa' j My wooer has turn'd his back. 0 ! were they but
here that are farest awa' ! Besides, I have seven milk-kye. 0 ! were
they but here that are dear to us a' I And Sandy he has but three ;
Our cares would seem light and our sorrows but And yet, for a' my
gude kye. sma'. The laddie winna ha'e me. { ^ If they were but here
that are far frae us a'l
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102 And DM MM ai ham* tiM dnil pro^Kct to ekMr, Oar

Johaal* bM wrfttaB, fra* tkr awa' parti, ▲ MMr tiMU H^tena and
hands ap our iMarla. Ha i^a, ** Mj d«ar mhlMr, Cboosfa I to awm*.
In lo«« and aflbelioa I'm alill wl' |a a' t Whoa 1 ha** a telnK, jrrw
a|« taa-a a ba', Wr plMtgr to toap oat tha fkoat and tlM mmm." M y
tolttor. a'wijogr'd at Ihli aha^t la tor tcato, B^ tto balm ttot ato
doatad oa aarly aad lata, Ol'ai thanbi, night aad daj, to tto Givar oT
a'. Ttonli baen naethlng onwathy o" hbn ttort awa*! Ttoa, tort ia to
tton that art fttr Itot na a', Tto fHand that ne'er ftUl'd at, thooth
krtatawa'l Health, peaea, and piotpgity, wait on at a' ! Aad a bijrtto
oomin* hamc to tto Mend thatt awa*! FU age ca' in. (CoMrotKD \>j
Diraiti, in honoar of hit Jaaa. Tto title of tto tane it, '* I'U gang naa
malk to yon toan," babag tto Ant line of aa old ballad, gang naa mair
to yon toon, J, never a' my MJb again ; I'D ne'er gae baek to yea
tooa. To tetk anither wUb again.'* me a|»pean to Atf back aa in
Oawaid^ CUa..«.»« Podwt Oompanlotu It wat ul— lad to to a great
fltvoorite with Geotta IT. daiii« hie rMt to Xdlabargh in 18&] I'u. aye
oa' in by yon toaa. And by yon garden graen again ; 111 aye oa' in
by yon toon. And tee my bonnle Jeaa afala. Tberet nana thall ben,
therttnaae than gwiai, What bringt ma back tto gate again. Bat the,
my flUrtat IblthAt' but: Ajod ttowiint we thall meet again. Sto'U
wander by tto aikan trie. Wton tryttin time dmwi near again > And
when her lorely ftmn I tee, O haith, tha't doubly dear agaiiu 111 aye
ca' In by yon toan. And by jron garden green again ; 111 aye oa' in
by yon toan. And ate my boaalt Jeaa again. j ^, f9at 5f bt)B*K. ITntt
It to-Laay.Xtq. or imiilawaUa, AyraUm. wtw I tfan to imaiawijllna la
17M^ wton i thirty ytanafiva. Bariililia aa— Johaatoa.] O, OTATya
whalla yea tooa, Ta an tto a>alag aoa opaa i Vow toply dowB yoa
gay grMa Aaw, 8to waadeea by yoa tpiaadlag tiae; Haw blait, ya
flowrn, that raoad tor Maw Ta aaaak tto glaaaat «^ tor flf^ Bow
Mial* yt Mrdtoy that taaad tor tlag, Am4 • «ii^iipr
 1 SCUTTISH SONGS. ]^Q3 For, while life's dearest blood
runs warm, ^ i Dear lassie, keep thy heart aboon. My thoughts frae
her shall ne'er depart; For I lia'e wair'd my winter's fee. For, as most
lovely is her form. I've coft a bonnie silken gown. She has the truest,
kindest heart. To be a bridal gift for thee. And sooner shall the hills
fa' down. And mountain -high shall stand ths sea. Ere I'd accept a
gowden crown. #, iim imt Mm. To change that love 1 bear for thee.
[Written by the late John- Sim of Paisley, to the tune of " Banks of
Spey."] 0 ! Miou hast seen the lily fair. All bathed in morning dew ;
^f Jac^'bltie^ ibg Hame. And thou hast seen the lovely rose. Just
op'ning to the view. [This song appears in the fourth volume of The
lily bathed in morning dew. Johnson's Museum, and there is every
reason to The rose so lair to see. believe, that it is a production of
Burns's, founded Are not more pure than her I love, on some older
Jacobitical effusion. The tune of Are not more fair than thee. " Ye
Jacobites by name " is very beautiful, and has been adapted to
several songs, but to none But soon before time's withering blast.
with more success than the one entitled "My The rose and lily fade ;
love '8 in Germanie," given elsewhere.] Nor even will beauty such as
thine Outlive its djirkeuing shade. Yk Jacobites by name, give an ear,
give an ear ; Yet there is that within thy breast, Ye Jacobites by
name, give an ear ; Will rutliless time defy. Ye Jacobites by name. A
mind will bloom v.-hen beauty fades. Your fautes I will proclaim. Will
flourish in the sky. Your doctrines I maun blame— You shall hear.
What is right, and what is wrang, by the law, by # ^att 1 xm. the
law ? AVhat is right, and what is WTang, by the law ?[Robert
Tanxahii.i,.] What is right, and what is wrang ? A short sword, and a
lang. 0 sAiB I rue the witless wish. A weak arm, and a Strang That
gar'd me gang wi' you at e'en; For to draw. And sair I rue the birken
bush. That screen'd us with its leaves sae green. And though ye
vow'd ye wad be mine. What makes heroic strife, fam'd afar? The
tear o' grief aye dims my e'e. What makes heroic strife ? For, O ! I'm
fear'd that I may tyne To whet th' assjissin's knife. The love that ye
ha'e promis'd me ! Or hunt a parent's life Wi' bluidie war. While
ithers seek their e'ening sports. I wander, di>wie, a' my lane. Tlien
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