Page images

But a' the niest week as I fretted wi' care,

I gaed to the tryste o' Dalgarnock,
And wha but my fine ficklė lover was there,

I I'd seen a warlock, a warlock,
I glowr'd as I'd seen a warlock.

[ocr errors]

But owre my left shouther I gae him a blink,

Least neebors might say I was saucy ;
My wooer he caper'd as he'd been in drink,

And vow'd I was his dear lassie, dear lassie,
And vow'd I was his dear lassie.

.1,! 16.1: I spier'd for my cousin fu' couthy and sweet, ". Gin she had recover'd her hearin, And how her new shoon fit her auld shackl't feet,

But, heavens ! how he fell a swearin, a swearin, But, heavens! how he fell a swearin.


He begged, for Gudesake! I wad be his wife, - Or else I wad kill him wi' sorrow : So e'en to preserve the poor body in life,

I think I máun wed him to-morrow, to-morrow,
I think I mauņ wed him to-morrow.


[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]
[ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors][ocr errors][merged small]



Why, why tell thy lover,

Bliss he never must enjoy?
Why, why unđeceive him,

And give all his hopes the lie?

. why, while fancy, raptur'd, slumbers,

Chloris, Chloris all the theme,
Why, why wouldst thou cruel, : :!7I

Wake thy lover from his dream?

[ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors]

Such is the peculiarity of the rhythm of this air, that I find it impossible to make another stanza to suit it.

I am at present quite occupied with the charming sensations of the tooth-ach, so have not a word to spare.


[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors]


Your English verses to Let me in this ae night, are tender and beautiful ; and


ballad to the “Lothian Lassie,” is a master-piece for its humour and naïveté. The fragment for the Caledonian Hunt is quite suited to the original measure of the air, and, as it plagues you so, the fragment must content it. I would rather, as I said before, have had Bacchanalian words, had it so pleased the poet; but, nevertheless, for what we have received, Lord make us thankfull ?"'pi





5th Feb. 1796.

O Robby Burns, are ye sleeping yet?
Or are ye wauking, I would wit ?


The pause you have made, my dear Sir, is awful! Am I never to hear from you again? I know and I lament how much you have been afflicted of late, but I trust that returning health and spirits will now enable you to resume the pen, and delight us with your musings. I have still about a dozen Scotch and Irish airs that I wish “ married to immortal verse." We have several true born Irishmen on the Scottish list: ; but they are now naturalized, and reckoned our own good subjects. Indeed we have none better. I believe I before told you that I have been much urged by some friends to publish a collection of all our favourite airs and songs in octavo, embellished with a number of etchings by our ingenious friend Allan ; what is your opinion of this?


[merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small]

MANY thanks, my dear Sir, for your handsome, elegant present, to Mrs. B, and for my remaining vol. of P. Pindar.--Peter is a delightful fellow, and a first favourite of mine. I am much pleased with your idea of publishing a collection of our songs in octavo with etchings. I am extremely willing to lend every assistance in my power. The Irish airs I shall cheerfully undertake the task of finding verses for.

I have already, you know, equipt three with words, and the other day I strung up a kind of rhapsody to another Hibernian melody, which I admire much.

[ocr errors][merged small]
« ՆախորդըՇարունակել »