But warily tent, when ye come to court me, And come na unless the back-yett be

a-jee;

Syne up the back-stile, and let naebody see,
And come as ye were na comin' to me.

gate

ajar

At kirk, or at market, whene'er ye meet me, Gang by me as though that ye cared nae a flie; But steal me a blink o' your bonny black e'e, Yet look as ye were na lookin' at me.

Aye vow and protest that ye care na for me, And whiles ye may lightly my beauty undervalue

a wee;

But court na anither, though jokin' ye be,
For fear that she wile your fancy frae me.1

August, 1793.

1 The two first stanzas of this song had appeared in the second volume of the Scots Musical Museum.

T. 35.]

ADOWN WINDING NITH.

77

ADOWN WINDING NITH I DID WANDER.

TUNE. The Mucking o' Geordie's Byre.

ADOWN winding Nith I did wander,

To mark the sweet flowers as they spring; Adown winding Nith I did wander,

Of Phillis to muse and to sing.

CHORUS.

Awa' wi' your belles and your beauties,
They never wi' her can compare ;
Whaever has met wi' my Phillis,
Has met wi' the queen o' the fair.

The daisy amused my fond fancy,
So artless, so simple, so wild;
Thou emblem, said I, o' my Phillis,
For she is Simplicity's child.

The rose-bud's the blush o' my charmer,
Her sweet balmy lip when 'tis prest:

How fair and how pure is the lily,

Yon knot of gay flowers in the arbour,

They ne'er wi' my Phillis can vie:
Her breath is the breath o' the woodbine,
Its dew-drop o' diamond her eye.

Her voice is the song of the morning,
That wakes through the green-spreading grove,
When Phoebus peeps over the mountains,
On music, and pleasure, and love.

--

But, beauty, how frail and how fleeting -
The bloom of a fine summer's day!
While worth in the mind o' my Phillis
Will flourish without a decay.

words that Coila taught me many years ago, and which I set to an old Scots reel in Johnson's Museum.". Burns to Mr. Thomson, August, 1793.

COME, let me take thee to my breast,

And pledge we ne'er shall sunder;

AT. 35.]

DAINTY DAVIE.

And I shall spurn as vilest dust
The warld's wealth and grandeur.
And do I hear my Jeanie own
That equal transports move her?
I ask for dearest life alone

That I may live to love her.

Thus in my arms, wi' all thy charms,
I clasp my countless treasure ;
I'll seek nae mair o' heaven to share,
Than sic a moment's pleasure :
And by thy e'en sae bonny blue,
I swear I'm thine for ever!
And on thy lips I seal my vow,
And break it shall I never!

DAINTY DAVIE.

TUNE-Dainty Davie.

"My dear sir, I have written you already by to-day's post, where I hinted at a song of mine which might suit Dainty Davie. I have been looking over another and a better song of mine in the Museum, which I have altered as follows, and which I am persuaded will please you." - Burns to Mr. Thomson, August,

1793.

The tune of Dainty Davie had been in Burns's hands some years before, when he composed to it a song with the awkward burden, The Gardener wi' his Paidle.1

Now rosy May comes in wi' flowers,
To deck her gay, green-spreading bowers;
And now come in my happy hours,
To wander wi' my Davie.

CHORUS.

Meet me on the warlock knowe,
Dainty Davie, dainty Davie ;
There I'll spend the day wi' you,
My ain dear dainty Davie.

The crystal waters round us fa',
The merry birds are lovers a',
The scented breezes round us blaw,
A-wandering wi' my Davie.

When purple Morning starts the hare,
To steal upon her early fare,

Then through the dews I will repair,
To meet my faithfu' Davie.

When Day, expiring in the west,
The curtain draws o' Nature's rest,
I flee to his arms I lo'e best,

And that's my ain dear Davie.
1 See vol. ii. p. 231.

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