I rue the day I sought her O!
I rue the day I sought her O!
Wha gets her need na say he's woo'd,

But he may say he has bought her O.

Come draw a drap o' the best o't yet,
Come draw a drap o' the best o't yet;
Gae seek for pleasure whare ye will,
But here I never miss'd it yet,
We're a' dry wi' drinkin o't,
We're a' dry wi' drinkin o't;
The minister kiss't the fiddler's wife;

He could na preach for thinkin o't.

[Stenhouse claims the title and the four concluding lines of this remarkable ditty as ancient; and the remainder, he assures us, is the composition of Burns. The melody is a favourite dancing-tune, and was anciently known as "Lady Badinscoth's Reel." It was, nevertheless, used as a song so early as 1641, in scorn of the Lords of the congregation and the covenanters. A pamphlet of that period gives the following sample of the words.

Put up thy dagger, Jamie,

It never was intended

That Bishops fall, no, not at all,

When Parliament is ended.

"Twas only for to flam thee

That all things should be mended;

But we've got the game, and we'll keep the same,
When Parliament is ended.]

SONG,-TAM GLEN.

(JOHNSON'S MUSEUM, 1790.)

My heart is a breaking, dear Tittie,

Some counsel unto me come len',

To anger them a' is a pity,

But what will I do wi' Tam Glen?

I'm thinking, wi' sic a braw fellow,
In poortith I might mak a fen';
What care I in riches to wallow,
If I mauna marry Tam Glen!

There's Lowrie the laird o' Dumeller

'Gude day to you"-brute! he comes ben:

He brags and he blaws o' his siller,

But when will he dance like Tam Glen!

My Minnie does constantly deave me,

And bids me beware o' young men ;
They flatter, she says, to deceive me,

But wha can think sae o' Tam Glen!

My daddie says, gin I'll forsake him,
He'd gie me gude hunder marks ten;
But, if it's ordain'd I maun take him,
O wha will I get but Tam Glen !

Yestreen at the Valentine's dealing,

My heart to my mou gied a sten;
For thrice I drew ane without failing,
And thrice it was written "Tam Glen"!

The last Halloween I was waukin

My droukit sark-sleeve, as ye ken,
His likeness came up the house staukin,
And the very grey breeks o' Tam Glen!

Come, counsel, dear Tittie, don't tarry;
I'll gie ye my bonie black hen,
Gif ye will advise me to marry

The lad I lo'e dearly, Tam Glen.

[This has, from the day of its first publication, been considered one of the happiest of its author's humorous songs. Dr Waddell well observes

that "feminine love and logic were never more admirably combined, and the moral elevated for ever above the base commercial idea of matrimony."

In the Museum, it is set to an old tune, called "Tam Glen," consisting of one part only, which has some arch character in it; but that air has long been laid aside for the two-part melody, called "The muckin o' Geordie's byre," which suits it admirably.]

CARLE, AN THE KING COME.
(JOHNSON'S MUSEUM, 1790.)

Chorus.-Carle, an the King come,

Carle, an the King come,

Thou shalt dance and I will sing,
Carle, an the King come.

An somebody were come again,

Then somebody maun cross the main,

And every man shall hae his ain,

Carle, an the King come,

Carle, an the King come, &c.

Coggie,d an the King come,

Coggie, an the King come,

I'se be fou, an' thou'se be toom,f

Coggie, an the King come.

Coggie, an the King come, &c.

[This is an old song, dating from the period of the Cromwell Interregnum, dressed up by Burns, whose improvements are very apparent

on comparing it with any version of the song printed before the year 1789. The last verse, addressed to the "Coggie" of the singer, is very characteristic. The poet introduced a similar stanza at the close of "Hey tuttie taitie," thus:—

"Cog, an ye were ay fou,

Cog, an ye were ay fou,
I wad sit an' sing to you,

An ye were ay fou!"]

THE LADDIE'S DEAR SEL'.

(JOHNSON'S MUSEUM, 1790.)

THERE'S a youth in this city, it were a great pity
That he from our lasses should wander awa';

For he's bonie and braw, weel-favor'd witha',
An' his hair has a natural buckle an' a.

His coat is the hue o' his bonnet sae blue,

His fecket a is white as the new-driven snaw; His hose they are blae,b and his shoon like the slae, And his clear siller buckles, they dazzle us a’.

For beauty and fortune the laddie's been courtin;
Weel-featur'd, weel-tocher'd, weel-mounted an' braw;
But chiefly the siller that gars him gang till her,
The penny's the jewel that beautifies a'.

There's Meg wi' the mailen d that fain wad a haen him,
And Susie, wha's daddie was laird o' the Ha';
There's lang-tocher'de Nancy maist fetters his fancy,
But the laddie's dear sel, he loes dearest of a'.

[The poet's note to Glenriddell's copy says "The first half-stanza of the song is old, and the rest is mine. The air is claimed by Neil Gow, who calls it the Lament for his brother." There is nothing so attractive in the tune as to justify its repetition here.]

a an under-vest of white wool. b pale-blue. c dowered.

d farm.

WHISTLE O'ER THE LAVE O'T.

(JOHNSON'S MUSEUM, 1790.)

FIRST when Maggie was my care,
Heav'n, I thought, was in her air,
Now we're married-speira nae mair,
But whistle o'er the lave b o't!
Meg was meek, and Meg was mild,
Sweet and harmless as a child-(')
Wiser men than me's beguil'd;

Whistle o'er the lave o't!

How we live, my Meg and me,
How we love, and how we gree,
I care na by how few may see—
Whistle o'er the lave o't!
Wha I wish were maggot's meat,
Dish'd up in her winding-sheet,

I could write-but Meg may see't-
Whistle o'er the lave o't!

[This favourite song was written by Burns as a substitute for some witty but indelicate verses preserved in Herd's Collection. The air, which is very popular, has been claimed as the composition of John Bruce, a musician who resided in Dumfries about 1720. There can be little doubt, however, that the air was known under the name of "Dance Katie Bairdie," long antecedent to that date. The following variation is found in some manuscripts :