this I lock'd her in my fond embrace; But by the moon and stars so bright, I hae been blithe wi' comrades dear; Tho' three times doubled fairly, That happy night was worth them a', The air of the "Corn-rigs," to which Burns composed song, had, in earlier times, the burthen to bear of very rude and very ridiculous verses: There was a piper had a cow, And he had nought to give her; And bade the cow consider: And gave the piper a penny The choice of the cow is very natural. The old song escaped the research of Herd, and the clutch of Johnson. JOHN ANDERSON MY JO. John Anderson my jo, John, John Anderson my jo, John, We've had wi' ane anither: And we'll sleep thegither at the foot, Tradition has bestowed on the ancient John Anderson of Scottish song the lucrative situation of piper to the town of Kelso; no wonder, therefore, that we find him listening to the invitation of a Kelso dame to partake of a sheep's-head pie. The old verses which introduce honest John to our notice are rude and graphic. The reformers inoculated them with a controversial and satiric meaning, and took them into the service of the kirk -see how they tear off the scarlet robes from the Roman lady. John Anderson my jo, John, And ye shall get a sheep's head Come in and yese get that. And how do ye do, cummer- For five o' them were gotten When he was far awa. The two lawful bairns were Baptism and the Lord's Supper; the spurious progeny were Penance, Confirmation, Extreme unction, Ordination, and Marriage. Those five illegitimate bairns of the scarlet lady were all rejected by the reformers. PEGGY ALISON. Ilk care and fear, when thou art near, Young kings upon their hansel throne Are no sae blest as I am! I'll kiss thee yet, yet, An' I'll kiss thee o'er again, An' I'll kiss thee yet, yet, When in my arms, wi' a' thy charms, And by thy een, sae bonnie blue, The name of Peggy Alison gives an air of truth and reality to this little warm and affectionate song, which the classical name of Chloe, Chloris, or Daphne, would fail to bestow. We imagine that the heroine has lived and breathed among us, and repaid the admiration of the poet by a smile and a salute-but we have no such lively feeling concerning the ladies of pastoral romance. The song is by Burns, and one of his early compositions. CHEROKEE INDIAN DEATH SONG. The sun sets in night, and the stars shun the day, Remember the arrows he shot from his bow; Remember the wood where in ambush we lay, And the scalps which we bore from your nation away. Now the flame rises fast; ye exult in my pain; But the son of Alknomook can never complain. I go to the land where my father is gone: His ghost shall rejoice in the fame of his son. Death comes like a friend, to relieve me from pain; And thy son, O Alknomook, has scorn'd to complain! The original power and happy genius of this song are universally felt. The tranquil heroism, the calm endurance and dignity of nature of the son of Alknomook, take possession of our hearts: we cannot forget, |