Page images
PDF
EPUB
[blocks in formation]

V.

The Cameleon-savage disturb'd her repose,

With tumult, disquiet, rebellion, and strife; Provok'd beyond bearing, at last she arose, And robb'd him at once of his hopes and his The Anglian lion, the terror of France, [life: || Oft prowling, ensanguin'd the Tweed's silver flood:

But, taught by the bright Caledonian lance, He learned to fear in his own native wood.

VI.

Thus bold, independent, unconquer'd, and free, Her bright course of glory for ever shall run: For brave Caledonia immortal must be;

I'll prove it from Euclid as clear as the sun: Rectangle-triangle, the figure we'll choose,

The upright is Chance, and old Time is the base; But brave Caledonia's the hypothenuse; Then, ergo, she'll match them and match them always.

["There is both knowledge of history and elegance of allegory in this singular song; but the most remarkable part is the conclusion, where the Poet proves, by mathematical demonstration, the immortality of Caledonia. It has been remarked of this, as well as others of his productions, that it bears the stamp of national love and of a manly understanding. Indeed, in the hastiest snatch he ever penned, some happy touch will be found denoting the hand of the master-some singular thought or felicitous line-easy to him and unattainable to others."-CUNNINGHAM.]

Olay thy Loof in mine, Lass.

Tune-Cordwainer's March.

I.

O LAY thy loof in mine, lass,
In mine, lass, in mine, lass;
And swear on thy white hand, lass,
That thou wilt be my ain.

A slave to love's unbounded sway,
He aft has wrought me meikle wae,
But now he is my deadly fae,
Unless thou be my ain.

II.

There's monie a lass has broke my rest,
That for a blink I hae lo'ed best;
But thou art queen within my breast,
For ever to remain.

[Two famous battles, in which the Danes or Norwegians were defeated.-CURRIE.]

The Picts.

[ocr errors]

O lay thy loof in mine, lass,
In mine, lass, in mine, lass;
And swear on thy white hand, lass,
That thou wilt be my ain.

[This song was written by Burns for the "Museum;" the air is commonly played on King Crispin's day, when the shoemakers hold a sort of saturnalia, and, with pennons displayed, and trumpet and drum, march through our northern borough towns, attired like kings, princes of the blood, senators, ambassadors, and warriors. The spectacle is very imposing; the "princes of a day" behave with wonderful decorum; and, save that it is more orderly, it resembles closely a real coronation pageant.]

The Fête Champêtre.

Tune-Killiecrankie.

I.

O WHA will to Saint Stephen's house,
To do our errands there, man?
O wha will to Saint Stephen's house,
O' th' merry lads of Âyr, man?
Or will we send a man-o'-law?

Or will we send a sodger?
Or him wha led o'er Scotland a'
The meikle Ursa-Major?

II.

Come, will ye court a noble lord,

Or buy a score o' lairds, man? For worth and honour pawn their word, Their vote shall be Glencaird's, man? Ane gies them coin, ane gies them wine, Anither gies them clatter;

Anbank, wha guess'd the ladies' taste, He gies a Fête Champêtre.

III.

When Love and Beauty heard the news,
The gay green-woods amang, man;
Where gathering flowers and busking bowers,
They heard the blackbird's sang, man:
A vow, they seal'd it with a kiss,
Sir Politicks to fetter,

As their's alone, the patent-bliss,
To hold a Fête Champêtre.

IV.

Then mounted Mirth, on gleesome wing,
O'er hill and dale she flew, man;
Ilk wimpling burn, ilk crystal spring,
Ilk glen and shaw she knew, man:
She summon'd every social sprite,
That sports by wood or water,
On th' bonny banks of Ayr to meet,
And keep this Fête Champêtre.

[* Alluding to a superstition, which represents adders as forming annually from their slough certain little annular stones of streaked colouring, which are occasionally found

[blocks in formation]

["The occasion of this ballad was as follows: -when Mr. Cunninghame, of Enterkin, came to his estate, two mansion - houses on it, Enterkin and Annbank, were both in a ruinous state. Wishing to introduce himself with some éclat to the country, he got temporary erections made on the banks of Ayr, tastefully decorated with shrubs and flowers, for a supper and ball, to which most of the respectable families in the county were invited. It was a novelty in the county, and attracted much notice. A dissolution of Parliament was soon expected, and this festivity was thought to be an introduction to a canvass for representing the county.Several other candidates were spoken of, particularly Sir John Whitefoord, then residing at Cloncaird, commonly pronounced Glencaird, and Mr. Boswell, the well-known biographer of Dr. Johnson. The political views of this festive assemblage, which are alluded to in the ballad, if they ever existed, were however laid aside, as Mr. C. did not canvass the county." -GILBERT BURNS.]

[blocks in formation]
[blocks in formation]
[merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small]

[gowd,

Here's a health to them that's awa,
Here's a health to them that's awa,
Here's Chieftain M'Leod, a chieftain worth
Tho' bred amang mountains o' snaw!
Here's a health to them that's awa,
Here's a health to them that's awa;
And wha winna wish guid luck to our cause,
May never guid luck be their fa'!§

[The buff and blue of Whiggery had triumphed over the white rose of Jacobitism in the heart of Burns when he composed this song. It is a sort of parody on a song in the Museum, and was found among his papers after his decease.

"Here's a health to them that's away,

Here's a health to them that's away,

Here's a health to them that were here short syne,
But canna be here the day.

The Right Hon. Charles James Fox.
Thomas, afterwards Lord, Erskine.
McLeod, chief of that clan.

[In the original MS. the termination of this song is as follows:

"Here's friends on both sides of the Forth,
And friends on both sides of the Tweed;
And wha wad betray old Albion's rights,
May they never eat of her bread!'']

Ano

[This is founded on an old ditty which the Poet altered and trimmed up for Johnson's "Musical Museum." ther version of it he subsequently furnished to Mr. Thomson. to the air of O bonnie Lass, will ye lie in a Barrack, which will be seen in his correspondence with that gentleman.]

["Previous to one of the public meetings of this body-a regular field-day, which was to terminate in a grand dinner -it was hinted to the Bard that something would be expected from him in the shape of a song or speech - some glowing tribute in honour of the patriotic cause that had linked them together, and eke in honour of the martial glory

It's guid to be merry and wise,
It's good to be honest and true;
It's guid to be aff wi' the auld luve
Before ye be on wi' the new."

These two verses form part of a Jacobite song, with verbal alterations by Burns himself.]

Meg o' the Mi.||

Tune-Jockie Hume's Lament.

O KEN ye what Meg o' the mill has gotten,
An' ken ye what Meg o' the mill has gotten?
A braw new naig wi' the tail o' a rottan,
And that's what Meg o' the mill has gotten.
O ken ye what Meg o' the mill lo'es dearly,
An' ken ye what Meg o' the mill lo'es dearly?
A dram o' guid strunt in a morning early,
And that's what Meg o' the mill lo'es dearly.
O ken ye how Meg o' the mill was married,
And ken ye how Meg o' the mill was married?
The priest he was oxter'd, the clerk he was
carried,

And that's how Meg o' the mill was married.
O ken ye how Meg o' the mill was bedded,
An' ken ye how Meg o' the mill was bedded?
The groom gat sae fou, he fell twa-fauld
beside it,

And that's how Meg o' the mill was bedded.

[blocks in formation]

of old Scotland. The Poet said nothing, but, as silence gives consent, it was generally expected that he would shore them on the occasion of the approaching festival with another lyric or energetic oration. The day at length arrived: dinner came and passed, and the usual loyal toasts were drunk with all the honours. Now came the Poet's turn; every eye was fixed upon him, and, slowly lifting his glass, he stood up and looked around him with an arch indescribable expression of countenance. 'Gentlemen,' said he, may we never see the French, nor the French see us!' The toast fell like a 'wet blanket,' as Moore says, on the hopes of the volunteers. Is that a'?' they muttered one to another, dropping down to their seats (to use the words of my informant, who was present) 'like so many old wives at a field-preaching!' 'Is that the grand speech or fine poem that we were to have from him? -but we could hae expected nae better! Not a few, however, raxed their jaws,' as the Ettrick Shepherd says, at the homely truth and humour of the Poet's sentiment, heightened by the first rueful aspect of the company; and, leng after, in his jovial moments, Burns used to delight in teling how he had cheated the volunteers of Dumfries."-CAREUTHERS.]

[ocr errors]
[blocks in formation]

["When the French threatened to invade this country in 1795, Burns enrolled himself among the gentlemen volunteers of Dumfries, and stood shoulder to shoulder with his friends Maxwell, Staig, and Syme. On going home he wrote The Dumfries Volunteers.' The song became popular at once, and was soon to be heard on hill and dale; for the peasantry of Scotland sing at the sheepfold and at the plough, and cheer themselves with verse in all ordinary pursuits of life. To extend its influence still farther, he had it printed with the music upon a separate sheet by Johnson, and thus

My trunk of eild, but buss or bield,
Sinks in Time's wintry rage.
Oh! age has weary days,

And nights o' sleepless pain!
Thou golden time o' youthfu' prime,
Why com'st thou not again?

[Though Burns gave much of his musingtime to the work of Thomson, in 1794 & 5 he did not neglect his earlier friend, Johnson, but contributed new as well as amended lyrics from time to time, and took a lively interest in the success of the work. "The Winter of Life," is one of those communications.

Let

"Perhaps," says the Poet to the publisher of the Museum,' in 1788, "you may not find your account lucratively in this business; but you are a patriot for the music of your country; and I am certain posterity will look on themselves as highly indebted to your public spirit. Have you never a fair goddess that leads you a wild-goose-chase of amorous devotion? me know a few of her qualities, such as whether she be rather black, or fair; plump or thin; short or tall, &c. : and choose your air, and I shall task my muse to celebrate her." It is not known what reply Johnson made to the latter part of this epistle: he was a plain, blunt man, and cared little about the graces of song, or the melody of music, save in the way of his trade.]

To Mary.

Tune-Could aught of Song.

I.

COULD aught of song declare my pains,
Could artful numbers move thee,
The muse should tell, in labour'd strains,
O Mary, how I love thee!
They who but feign a wounded heart
May teach the lyre to languish;
But what avails the pride of art,
When wastes the soul with anguish ?

II.

Then let the sudden bursting sigh
The heart-felt pang discover ;
And in the keen, yet tender, eye,
O read th' imploring lover.
For well I know thy gentle mind
Disdains art's gay disguising;
Beyond what fancy e'er refin'd,
The voice of nature prizing.

it penetrated into the nobleman's drawing-room as well as into the farmer's spence.

"Some of the allusions are local, and require explanation. If Nith ran to Corsincon, it would run backward, and up hill too. The Criffel is a high green mountain on the Scottish side of the Solway, and is said, in the legends of the district, to be the materials which a witch had collected to choke up the sea, that the English army might walk over dry-shod." CUNNINGHAM.]

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

• ["This song is said to be a homely version of a Highland lament for the ruin which followed the rebellion of the 'fortyfive.' Burns heard it sung in one of his northern excursions, and begged a translation. It gives no exaggerated picture of the desolation wrought in the north by the Duke of Cumberland, whose atrocities made the prophecy of Peden be credited- The day is at hand when a man may ride fifty miles in Scotland, and not see a reeking house, nor hear a crowing cock.' To subdue and root out rebellion was a duty; but Butcher Willie,' as the peasantry with great propriety called the duke in accomplishing this, was savage and remorseless. Smollett, who lived in those melancholy times, has given us a lasting picture of the sufferings of his country in his inimitable Tears of Scotland;' nor has Sir Walter Scott spared either sympathy for the sufferers, or reproaches

VIII.

Ochon, O, Donald, Oh!

Och-on, och-on, och-rie! Nae woman in the warld wide Sae wretched now as me.*

Welcome to General Dumourier.

A Parady on Robin Adair.

I.

YOU'RE Welcome to despots, Dumourier;
You're welcome to despots, Dumourier;
How does Dampiere, do?

Aye, and Bournonville, too?
Why did they not come along with you, Du-

mourier?

II.

I will fight France with you, Dumourier;
I will fight France with you, Dumourier;
I will fight France with you,

I will take my chance with you; By my soul I'll dance a dance with you, Dumourier.

III.

Then let us fight about, Dumourier;
Then let us fight about, Dumourier;
Then let us fight about,

Till freedom's spark is out,

Then we'll be damn'd, no doubt, Dumourier.

[One day Burns happened to be in the King's Arms Inn, Dumfries, when he overheard a stranger vindicating the defection of General Dumourier from the ranks of the French army. The Poet presently began to croon words to the tune of Robin Adair, in a low tone of voice on being asked what he was about, he said he was giving a welcome to General Dumourier, and repeated the above verses. They were inserted in Cromek's Reliques of Burns.]

on him who was so wantonly barbarous. The castles and homes of the rebels were given to the flames; their cattle driven away, and their wives and children were to be seen roaming, houseless and famishing, among the lonely glens and desolate moors of the north. The execution too of those taken in arms was, beyond all belief, barbarous; they were hung by the neck for five minutes, cut down before they were dead-their bosoms opened and their hearts torn out: several were observed by the bystanders to struggle with the execu tioner in performing the last part of this terrible tragedy. Human nature shudders at such proceedings; yet the public heart and eye of London must have been hardened that endured the exhibition of the ghastly heads of Lovat Balmer ino, and Kilmarnock, on Temple Bar, for forty years and more!"-CUNNINGHAM.]

« ՆախորդըՇարունակել »