No. XLII. BURNS TO MR THOMSON. Sept. 1793. I HAVE received your list, my dear Sir, and here go my observations on it.* 'Down the burn Davie.' I have this moment tried an alteration, leaving out the last half of the third stanza, and the first half of the last stanza, thus: As down the burn they took their way, And thro' the flowery dale; His cheek to hers he aft did lay, With "Mary, when shall we return, Sic pleasure to renew ?" Quoth Mary, 66 Love, I like the burn, And shall follow you."+ aye Thro' the wood laddie'-I am decidedly of opinion that both in this, and There'll never be peace till Jamie comes hame,' the second or high part of the tune being a repetition of the first part an octave higher, is only for instrumental music, and would be much better omitted in singing. * Mr Thomson's list of songs for his publication. In his remarks the bard proceeds in order, and goes through the whole; but on many of them he merely signifies his approbation. All his remarks of any importance are presented to the reader.Currie. †This alteration Mr Thomson has adopted (or at least intended to adopt,) instead of the last stanza of the original song, which is objectionable in point of delicacy.— Currie. 'Cowden-knowes.' Remember in your index that the song in pure English to this tune, beginning, "When summer comes, the swains on Tweed," is the production of Crawford. Robert was his Christian name. 'Laddie lie near me,' must lie by me for some time. I do not know the air; and until I am complete master of a tune, in my own singing (such as it is,) I can never compose for it. My way is: I consider the poetic sentiment correspondent to my idea of the musical expression; then choose my theme; begin one stanza; when that is composed, which is generally the most difficult part of the business, I walk out, sit down now and then, look out for objects in nature around me that are in unison and harmony with the cogitations of my fancy, and workings of my bosom; humming every now and then the air with the verses I have framed. When I feel my muse beginning to jade, I retire to the solitary fire-side of my study, and there commit my effusions to paper; swinging at intervals on the hind legs of my elbow-chair, by way of calling forth my own critical strictures, as my pen goes on. Seriously, this, at home, is almost invariably my way. What cursed egotism! 'Gill Morice,' I am for leaving out. It is a plaguy length; the air itself is never sung; and its place can well be supplied by one or two songs for fine airs that are not in your list. For instance, Cragieburn Wood,' and ' Roy's Wife.' The first, beside its intrinsic merit, has novelty; and the last has high merit as well as great celebrity. I have the original words of a song for the last air, in the hand-writing of the lady who composed it; and they are superior to any edition of the song which the public has yet seen." . Highland-laddie.' The old set will please a mere Scotch ear best; and the new an Italianized one. There is a * This song, so much admired by our bard, will be found in a future part of the volume, see No. XLIV. third, and what Oswald calls the old Highland-laddie,' which pleases me more than either of them. times called 'Ginglan Johnnie;' it being the air of an old humorous tawdry song of that name. You will find it in the Museum, I hae been at Crookieden,' &c. I would advise you in this musical quandary, to offer up your prayers to the muses for inspiring direction; and in the mean time, waiting for this direction, bestow a libation to Bacchus; and there is not a doubt but you will hit on a judicious choice. Probatum est. 'Auld Sir Simon,' I must beg you to leave out, and put in its place The Quaker's Wife.' 'Blithe hae I been o'er the hill,' is one of the finest songs ever I made in my life; and besides, is composed on a young lady, positively the most beautiful, lovely woman in the world. As I purpose giving you the names and designations of all my heroines, to appear in some future edition of your work, perhaps half a century hence, you must certainly include The bonniest lass in a' the warld,' in your collection. 6 Dainty Davie,' I have heard sung nineteen thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine times, and always with the chorus to the low part of the tune; and nothing has surprised me so much as your opinion on this subject. If it will not suit as I proposed, we will lay two of the stanzas together, and then make the chorus follow. 'Fee him, Father'-I inclose you Frazer's set of this tune when he plays it slow; in fact he makes it the language of despair. I shall here give you two stanzas, in that style; merely to try if it will be any improvement. Were it possible, in singing, to give it half the pathos which Frazer gives it in playing, it would make an admirably pathetic song. I do not give these verses for any merit they have. I composed them at the time in which "Patie Allan's mither died, that was, about the back o' midnight ;” and by the lee-side of a bowl of punch, which had overset every mortal in company, except the hautbois and the muse. THOU HAST LEFT ME EVER. Tune-"Fee him, Father." THOU hast left me ever, Jamie, Thou hast left me ever. Aften hast thou vow'd that death Now thou'st left thy lass for aye,—- Thou hast me forsaken, Jamie, Thou canst love anither jo, While my heart is breaking: Never mair to waken, Jamie, Ne'er mair to waken.t 'Jockie and Jenny' I would discard, and in its place would put There's nae luck about the house,' which has a very pleasant air, and which is positively the finest loveballad in that style in the Scottish, or perhaps in any other language. When she came ben she bobbet,' as an air, is more beautiful than either, and in the andante way would unite with a charming sentimental ballad. 6 * The Scottish (the Editor uses the word substantively, as the English,) employ the abbreviation I'll for I shall as well as I will; and it is for I shall it is used here. In Annandale, as in the northern counties of England, for I shall they use l'se.Currie. †This is the whole of the song. The bard never proceeded farther.-Note by Mr Thomson. 'Saw ye my Father?' is one of my greatest favourites. The evening before last, I wandered out, and began a tender song, in what I think is its native style. I must premise, that the old way, and the way to give most effect, is to have no starting note, as the fiddlers call it, but to burst at once into the pathos. Every country girl sings—' Saw ye my father?' &c. My song is but just begun; and I should like, before I proceed, to know your opinion of it. I have sprinkled it with the Scottish dialect, but it may be easily turned into correct English.*. 'Todlin hame.' Urbani mentioned an idea of his, which has long been mine, that this air is highly susceptible of pathos accordingly, you will soon hear him at your concert try it to a song of mine in the Museum ; 'Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon.' One song more and I have done: Auld lang syne.' The air is but mediocre; but the following song, the old song of the olden times, and which has never been in print, nor even in manuscript, until I took it down from an old man's singing, is enough to recommend any air. AULD LANG SYNE. Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And days o' lang syne? For auld lang syne, my dear, For auld lang syne, We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet, For auld lang syne. We twa hae run about the braes, This song appears afterwards. It begins, "Where are the joys I hae met in the morning." |