[Burns founded this song on some old verses, in which it was intimated that the extinction of the House of Stuart was sought for by other weapons than the sword. It cannot be denied that, if the House of Hanover had the affection of the people and the law of the land on their side, the exiled princes had the best poetry. This be accounted for: the romantic admay ventures, and daring exploits, and deep sufferings of Prince Charles enlisted sympathy on his side; and the minstrels, regarding his fate and that of his brave companions as furnishing matter for poetry only, sung with a pathos and a force which will likely be long remembered. It would seem by the last verse that Burns looked upon the cause as hopeless. very popular.-CUNNINGHAM.] The Banks of Doon. FIRST VERSION. I. YE flowery banks o' bonnie Doon, How can ye bloom sae fair; How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae fu' o' care! II The air is Thou'll break my heart, thou bonnie bird, Thou minds me o' the happy days III. Thou'll break my heart, thou bonnie bird, IV. Aft hae I rov'd by bonnie Doon, To see the woodbine twine, And ilka bird sang o' its love; And sae did I o' mine. V. Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose, [Cromek, who had a fine taste in poetry and art, found this version among the letters of the Poet, and admitted it into the Reliques. Whenever the genius of Burns was a topic of conversation, he loved to descant on the exquisite simplicity and force of his sentiments and language, and generally instanced the last two verses of the first version of the "Banks of Doon" as a fine specimen of his natural powers.] The Banks o' Doon. SECOND VERSION. Tune-Caledonian Hunt's Delight, I. YE banks and braes o' bonnie Doon, And I sae weary, fu' o' care! II. Oft hae I rov'd by bonnie Doon, To see the rose and woodbine twine; And ilka bird sang o' its luve, And fondly sae did I o' mine. Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose, Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree; And my fause luver stole my rose, But, ah! he left the thorn wi' me. [The history of the air to which the "Banks o' Doon" was composed is curious. It happened that James Miller, a writer in Edinburgh, was in company with Stephen Clarke the musician the conversation turned upon the beauty of the Scottish airs, when Miller declared he would like much to make one. Clarke, in a jocular way, told him that nothing was more easy-he had only to keep to the black keys of the harpsichord-preserve some kind of rhythm -and the result would be a true Scottish air. What the musician meant for a joke, Miller took seriously. To the harpsichord he went, and applied his fingers with such success to the black keys that he speedily produced his tune, which, on receiving two or three touches from Clarke, was given to the world—and with such applause that Burns re-modelled his "Banks and Braes o' bonnie Doon," and adapted it to the air at the expense somewhat of its simplicity. An Ayr-shire legend says that the heroine of this affecting song was Miss Kennedy of Dalgarrock, a young creature, beautiful and accomplished, who fell a victim to her love for M'Douall of Logan. All the earlier songs of Burns were founded in truth. (See an interesting letter to Gavin Hamilton, Esq., dated Edinburgh, March 9th, 1787, given exclusively in this Edition.)] Sic a wife as Willie had. Tune-The eight Men of Moidart, I. WILLIE Wastle dwalt on Tweed, The spot they ca'd it Linkum-doddie, Willie was a wabster guid, Cou'd stown a clue wi' onie bodie: He had a wife was dour and din, O Tinkler Maidgie was her mither; Sic a wife as Willie had, I wad nae gie a button for her. II. She has an e'e-she has but ane, A clapper-tongue wad deave a miller; A whiskin' beard about her mou', Her nose and chin they threaten ither— Sic a wife as Willie had, I wad nae gie a button for her III. She's bow hough'd, she's hem shinn'd, The twin o' that upon her shouther— Sic a wife as Willie had, I wad nae gie a button for her. IV. Auld baudrans by the ingle sits, An' wi' her loof her face a-washin'; But Willie's wife is nae sae trig, She dights her grunzie wi' a hushion; Her walie nieves like midden-creels, Her face wad fyle the Logan-WaterSic a wife as Willie had, I wad na gie a button for her. ["The hero of this song owes his name perhaps to that doughty personage who replied to the summons of Oliver Cromwell: 'I'm Willie o' the Wastle, I'll keep in my castle; Shanna ding me down.' "The heroine is said to have been a much humbler individual; namely, the wife of a farmer who lived near Burns at Ellisland. She was a very singular woman: tea, she said, would be the ruin of the nation; sugar was a sore evil; wheaten bread was only fit for babes; earthenware was a pickpocket; wooden floors were but fit for threshing upon; slated roofs, cold; feathers, good enough for fowls; in short, she abhorred change, and, whenever any thing new appeared, such as harrows with iron teeth-Aye, aye,' she would exclaim, ‘ye'll see the upshot!'" "Of all modern things she disliked china most; she called it burnt clay,' and said it was only fit for hauding the broo o' stinking weeds," as she called tea. On one occasion, a southern dealer in cups and saucers asked so much for his ware that he exasperated a peasant, who said I canna purchase, but I ken ane that will:' Gang there,' said he, pointing to the house of Willie's wife:-dinna be blate or burd-mouthed; ask a gude penny-she has the siller.' Away went the poor dealer, spread out his wares before her, and summed up all by asking a double price. A blow from her cummock was his instant reward, which not only fell on his person, but damaged his china-'I'll learn ye,' quoth she, as she heard the saucers jingle, to come with yere brazent English face, and yere bits o' burnt clay to me! She was an unlovely dame-her daughters, however, were beautiful."-CUNNINGHAM.] 6 Lady Mary Ann. Tune-Craigston's growing. I. O, LADY Mary Ann The flower amang them a’My bonnie laddie's young, But he's growin' yet. II. O father! O father! He's to marry yet. ["The third and fourth verses of this song are in the happiest manner of Burns. An old ballad, called "Craigton's growing," was chanted to him in one of his Highland excursions: he caused the tune to be noted down, and, musing over the old rhyme, produced "Lady Mary Ann," and sent both music and words to the Museum. During the short career of Burns, he did much for the lyrical glory of Scotland; wherever he went, his ear was open to the music of the district, and to the local songs of the land. He communicated many airs to Johnson, and on all occasions dis * We subjoin a traditional copy of the old ballad :- O father dear, you have done me great wrong. And my bonnie laddie's lang o' growing. O daughter dear, I have done you no wrong, And your bonnie laddie's daily growing. O father dear, if you think it fit, And that will be a token that he's married. And I to the college will go wi' him. played a sympathy for music which showed how much he was under its influence. Music is cultivated, during the winter time, among the peasantry of Scotland, and psalmody is taught along with the native lyrics. All the youth, too, are instructed in dancing; few natives of the north can be found who are ignorant of music and dancing."-CUNNINGHAM.] Fareweel to a' our Scottish Fame. Tune-Such a Parcel of Rogues in a Nation. I. FAREWEEL to a' our Scottish fame, To mark where England's province stands- II. What force or guile could not subdue, III. O would, or I had seen the day That treason thus could sell us, My auld grey head had lien in clay, Wi' Bruce and loyal Wallace! But pith and power, till my last hour, I'll mak this declaration; We're bought and sold for English goldSuch a parcel of rogues in a nation.† She's made him shirts o' the Holland sae fine, Saying, my bonnie laddie's lang o' growing. +["Burns," says Cunningham, "has expressed sentiments in this song which were once popular in the north. The advantages of an union which deprived Scotland of all the visible symbols of power and independence, were not for forty years at least perceived by the people: they only saw the mansions of their nobles empty, grass growing in the Parliament close, and felt that the little wealth which belonged to the land was flowing off to the south. Those whom the Union allured to London were made to feel their dependent condition more keenly: they were received with suspicion and distrust by a proud and haughty people; they were treated as foreigners, rather than as men who visited their own capital. England, like the termagant dame in the Poet's verse, allowed her spouse to have "no will but by her high permission.” A rebellion, conducted by a weak and "Nor has Scott written less strongly, when speaking of northern statesmen. When they united with the degrada! tion of their country the prospect of obtaining personal wealth and private emoluments, we cannot acquit them of the charge of having sold their own honour and that of Scotland.' I have already mentioned,' he elsewhere says, the sum of twenty thousand pounds, which was apportioned to the commissioners who originally laid the basis of the treaty. I may add there was another sum of twenty thousand pounds employed to secure to the measures of the Court the party called the Squadróne Volante. The account of the mode in which this last sum was distributed has been pub- | lished and it may be doubted whether the descendants of tị the noble lords and honourable gentlemen who accepted this gratification would be more shocked at the general fact of their ancestors being corrupted, or scandalized at the paltry amount of the bribe. One noble lord accepted so low a sum as eleven guineas: and the bargain was the more hard, as he threw his religion into the bargain, and from Catholic turned Protestant, to make his vote a good one.'"'] The "Robert gae this ane a brushing; and this ane gat a brushing also." But when she came to the "Carle of Kellyburn Braes," she exclaimed, "He gae this ane a terrible brushing." skeleton, so to speak, of the song is old: but, like a crab-stock, it has been compelled to bear a richer fruit than pertains to its original nature. The emendations and additions by Burns are numerous; the eleventh and twelfth verses are wholly his; entire lines, half-lines, and sometimes a line and a half from his pen. Other versifiers have tried their hands on the subject, and the result is sundry additional verses wearing the hue and impressed with the character of the old strain. Satan carries the carlin to his "lowing heugh:" "He clinkit her down in his mickle arm chair, (Hey! and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme,) And thousands o' devils cam round her to stare; And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime. But aye as they at the auld carlin play'd pou't, (Hey! and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme,) She gied them a bang and she lent them a clout; And the time it is wither'd, and rue is in prime." The stir which she makes excites something like a civil war in hell; and the devil, afraid of the stability of his empire, seizes the carlin, and, carrying her suddenly to upper air, finds her husband at the plough, cheering himself with a song: "And aye as the auld carle ranted and sang, (Hey! and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme), In troth, my auld Spankie, ye'll no keep her lang; And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime." On observing Satan advancing, the poor man looked sad, and hoped he was not bringing her back: Clootie makes answer : "I tried her in spunks, and in cauldrons I tried her, I stapped her into the neuk o' my den, (Hey! and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme,) But the very damned ran when the carlins gaed ben; Jockey's ta'en the Parting Riss. Tune-Bonnie Lassie, tuk a Man. I. JOCKEY'S ta'en the parting kiss, VAR.-I met a lass, a bonnie lass. |