No More Learning

]


I.

When first my brave Johnnie lad
Came to this town,
He had a blue bonnet
That wanted the crown;
But now he has gotten
A hat and a feather,--
Hey, brave Johnnie lad,
Cock up your beaver!

II.

Cock up your beaver,
And cock it fu' sprush,
We'll over the border
And gie them a brush;
There's somebody there
We'll teach better behaviour--
Hey, brave Johnnie lad,
Cock up your beaver!

* * * * *




XCVII.

MEIKLE THINKS MY LUVE.

Tune--"_My tocher's the jewel. _"

[These verses were written by Burns for the Museum, to an air by
Oswald: but he wished them to be sung to a tune called "Lord Elcho's
favourite," of which he was an admirer. ]


I.

O Meikle thinks my luve o' my beauty,
And meikle thinks my luve o' my kin;
But little thinks my luve I ken brawlie
My tocher's the jewel has charms for him.
It's a' for the apple he'll nourish the tree;
It's a' for the hiney he'll cherish the bee;
My laddie's sae meikle in luve wi' the siller,
He canna hae lure to spare for me.

II.

Your proffer o' luve's an airl-penny,
My tocher's the bargain ye wad buy;
But an ye be crafty, I am cunnin',
Sae ye wi' anither your fortune maun try.
Ye're like to the timmer o' yon rotten tree,
Ye'll slip frae me like a knotless thread,
And ye'll crack your credit wi' mae nor me.

* * * * *




XCVIII.

GANE IS THE DAY.

Tune--"_Gudewife count the lawin. _"

[The air as well as words of this song were furnished to the Museum by
Burns. "The chorus," he says, "is part of an old song. "]


I.

Gane is the day, and mirk's the night,
But we'll ne'er stray for fau't o' light,
For ale and brandy's stars and moon,
And blude-red wine's the rising sun.
Then gudewife count the lawin,
The lawin, the lawin;
Then gudewife count the lawin,
And bring a coggie mair!

II.

There's wealth and ease for gentlemen,
And simple folk maun fight and fen;
But here we're a' in ae accord,
For ilka man that's drunk's a lord.

III.

My coggie is a haly pool,
That heals the wounds o' care and dool;
And pleasure is a wanton trout,
An' ye drink but deep ye'll find him out.
Then gudewife count the lawin;
The lawin, the lawin,
Then gudewife count the lawin,
And bring a coggie mair!

* * * * *




XCIX.

THERE'LL NEVER BE PEACE.

Tune--"_There art few gude fellows when Willie's awa. _"

[The bard was in one of his Jacobitical moods when he wrote this song.
The air is a well known one, called "There's few gude fellows when
Willie's awa. " But of the words none, it is supposed, are
preserved. ]


I.

By yon castle wa', at the close of the day,
I heard a man sing, though his head it was gray;
And as he was singing the tears down came,
There'll never be peace till Jamie comes hame.
The church is in ruins, the state is in jars;
Delusions, oppressions, and murderous wars:
We darena weel say't, though we ken wha's to blame,
There'll never be peace till Jamie comes hame!

II.

My seven braw sons for Jamie drew sword,
And now I greet round their green beds in the yerd.
It brak the sweet heart of my faithfu' auld dame--
There'll never be peace till Jamie comes hame.
Now life is a burthen that bows me down,
Since I tint my bairns, and he tint his crown;
But till my last moments my words are the same--
There'll never be peace till Jamie comes hame!

* * * * *




C.

HOW CAN I BE BLYTHE AND GLAD?

Tune--"_The bonnie lad that's far awa. _"

[This lamentation was written, it is said, in allusion to the
sufferings of Jean Armour, when her correspondence with Burns was
discovered by her family. ]


I.

O how can I be blythe and glad,
Or how can I gang brisk and braw,
When the bonnie lad that I lo'e best
Is o'er the hills and far awa?
When the bonnie lad that I lo'e best
Is o'er the hills and far awa.

II.

It's no the frosty winter wind,
It's no the driving drift and snaw;
But ay the tear comes in my e'e,
To think on him that's far awa.
But ay the tear comes in my e'e,
To think on him that's far awa.

III.

My father pat me frae his door,
My friends they line disown'd me a',
But I hae ane will tak' my part,
The bonnie lad that's far awa.
But I hae ane will tak' my part,
The bonnie lad that's far awa.

IV.

A pair o' gloves he gae to me,
And silken snoods he gae me twa;
And I will wear them for his sake,
The bonnie lad that's far awa.
And I will wear them for his sake,
The bonnie lad that's far awa.

V.

O weary Winter soon will pass,
And spring will cleed the birken shaw;
And my young babie will be born,
And he'll be hame that's far awa.
And my young babie will be born,
And he'll be hame that's far awa.

* * * * *




CI.

I DO CONFESS THOU ART SAE FAIR.

Tune--"_I do confess thou art sae fair. _"

["I do think," says Burns, in allusion to this song, "that I have
improved the simplicity of the sentiments by giving them a Scottish
dress. " The original song is of great elegance and beauty: it was
written by Sir Robert Aytoun, secretary to Anne of Denmark, Queen of
James I. ]


I.

I do confess thou art sae fair,
I wad been o'er the lugs in love,
Had I na found the slightest prayer
That lips could speak thy heart could muve.
I do confess thee sweet, but find
Thou art sae thriftless o' thy sweets,
Thy favours are the silly wind,
That kisses ilka thing it meets.

II.

See yonder rose-bud, rich in dew,
Amang its native briers sae coy;
How sune it tines its scent and hue
When pou'd and worn a common toy!
Sic fate, ere lang, shall thee betide,
Tho' thou may gaily bloom awhile;
Yet sune thou shalt be thrown aside
Like ony common weed and vile.

* * * * *




CII.

YON WILD MOSSY MOUNTAINS.

Tune--"_Yon wild mossy mountains. _"

["This song alludes to a part of my private history, which is of no
consequence to the world to know. " These are the words of Burns: he
sent the song to the Musical Museum; the heroine is supposed to be the
"Nannie," who dwelt near the Lugar. ]


I.

Yon wild mossy mountains sae lofty and wide,
That nurse in their bosom the youth o' the Clyde,
Where the grouse lead their coveys thro' the heather to feed,
And the shepherd tents his flock as he pipes on his reed.
Where the grouse lead their coveys thro' the heather to feed,
And the shepherd tents his flock as he pipes on his reed.

II.

Not Gowrie's rich valleys, nor Forth's sunny shores,
To me hae the charms o' yon wild, mossy moors;
For there, by a lanely and sequester'd stream,
Resides a sweet lassie, my thought and my dream.
For there, by a lanely and sequester'd stream,
Resides a sweet lassie, my thought and my dream.

III.

Amang thae wild mountains shall still be my path,
Ilk stream foaming down its ain green, narrow strath;
For there, wi' my lassie, the day lang I rove,
While o'er us unheeded flee the swift hours o' love.
For there wi' my lassie, the day lang I rove,
While o'er us unheeded flee the swift hours o' love.

IV.

She is not the fairest, altho' she is fair;
O' nice education but sma' is her share;
Her parentage humble as humble can be;
But I lo'e the dear lassie because she lo'es me.
Her parentage humble as humble can be;
But I lo'e the dear lassie because she lo'es me.

V.

To beauty what man but maun yield him a prize,
In her armour of glances, and blushes, and sighs?
And when wit and refinement hae polish'd her darts,
They dazzle our een as they flee to our hearts.
And when wit and refinement hae polish'd her darts,
They dazzle our een, as they flee to our hearts.

VI.

But kindness, sweet kindness, in the fond sparkling e'e,
Has lustre outshining the diamond to me:
And the heart beating love as I'm clasp'd in her arms,
O, these are my lassie's all-conquering charms!
And the heart beating love as I'm clasp'd in her arms,
O, these are my lassie's all-conquering charms!

* * * * *




CIII.

IT IS NA, JEAN, THY BONNIE FACE.

Tune--"_The Maid's Complaint. _"

[Burns found this song in English attire, bestowed a Scottish dress
upon it, and published it in the Museum, together with the air by
Oswald, which is one of his best. ]


I.

It is na, Jean, thy bonnie face,
Nor shape that I admire,
Altho' thy beauty and thy grace
Might weel awake desire.
Something in ilka part o' thee,
To praise, to love, I find;
But dear as is thy form to me,
Still dearer is thy mind.

II.

Nae mair ungen'rous wish I hae,
Nor stronger in my breast,
Than, if I canna mak thee sae,
at least to see thee blest.
Content am I, if heaven shall give
But happiness to thee:
And as wi' thee I'd wish to live,
For thee I'd bear to die.

* * * * *




CIV.

WHEN I THINK ON THE HAPPY DAYS.

[These verses were in latter years expanded by Burns into a song, for
the collection of Thomson: the song will be found in its place: the
variations are worthy of preservation. ]


I.

When I think on the happy days
I spent wi' you, my dearie;
And now what lands between us lie,
How can I be but eerie!

II.

How slow ye move, ye heavy hours,
As ye were wae and weary!
It was na sae ye glinted by,
When I was wi' my dearie.

* * * * *




CV.

WHAN I SLEEP I DREAM.

[This presents another version of song LXV. Variations are to a poet
what changes are in the thoughts of a painter, and speak of fertility
of sentiment in both. ]


I.

Whan I sleep I dream,
Whan I wauk I'm eerie,
Sleep I canna get,
For thinkin' o' my dearie.

II.

Lanely night comes on,
A' the house are sleeping,
I think on the bonnie lad
That has my heart a keeping.
Ay waukin O, waukin ay and wearie,
Sleep I canna get, for thinkin' o' my dearie.

III.

Lanely nights come on,
A' the house are sleeping,
I think on my bonnie lad,
An' I blear my een wi' greetin'!
Ay waukin, &c.

* * * * *




CVI.

I MURDER HATE.

[These verses are to be found in a volume which may be alluded to
without being named, in which many of Burns's strains, some looser
than these, are to be found. ]


I.

I murder hate by field or flood,
Tho' glory's name may screen us:
In wars at hame I'll spend my blood,
Life-giving wars of Venus.

II.

The deities that I adore
Are social Peace and Plenty,
I'm better pleas'd to make one more,
Than be the death of twenty.

* * * * *




CVII.

O GUDE ALE COMES.

[These verses are in the museum; the first two are old, the concluding
one is by Burns. ]


I.

O gude ale comes, and gude ale goes,
Gude ale gars me sell my hose,
Sell my hose, and pawn my shoon,
Gude ale keeps my heart aboon.

II.

I had sax owsen in a pleugh,
They drew a' weel eneugh,
I sell'd them a' just ane by ane;
Gude ale keeps my heart aboon.

III.

Gude ale hands me bare and busy,
Gars me moop wi' the servant hizzie,
Stand i' the stool when I hae done,
Gude ale keeps my heart aboon.
O gude ale comes, &c.

* * * * *




CVIII.

ROBIN SHURE IN HAIRST.

[This is an old chaunt, out of which Burns brushed some loose
expressions, added the third and fourth verses, and sent it to the
Museum. ]


I.

Robin shure in hairst,
I shure wi' him,
Fient a heuk had I,
Yet I stack by him.

II.

I gaed up to Dunse,
To warp a wab o' plaiden,
At his daddie's yett,
Wha met me but Robin.

III.

Was na Robin bauld,
Tho' I was a cotter,
Play'd me sic a trick,
And me the eller's dochter?
Robin share in hairst, &c.

IV.

Robin promis'd me
A' my winter vittle;
Fient haet he had but three
Goose feathers and a whittle.
Robin share in hairst, &c.

* * * * *




CIX.

BONNIE PEG.

[A fourth verse makes the moon a witness to the endearments of these
lovers; but that planet sees more indiscreet matters than it is right
to describe. ]


I.

As I came in by our gate end,
As day was waxin' weary,
O wha came tripping down the street,
But Bonnie Peg my dearie!

II.

Her air sae sweet, and shape complete,
Wi' nae proportion wanting;
The Queen of Love did never move
Wi' motion mair enchanting.

III.

Wi' linked hands, we took the sands
A-down yon winding river;
And, oh! that hour and broomy bower,
Can I forget it ever?

* * * * *




CX.

GUDEEN TO YOU, KIMMER.

[This song in other days was a controversial one, and continued some
sarcastic allusions to Mother Rome and her brood of seven sacraments,
five of whom were illegitimate. Burns changed the meaning, and
published his altered version in the Museum. ]


I.

Gudeen to you, Kimmer,
And how do ye do?
Hiccup, quo' Kimmer,
The better that I'm fou.
We're a' noddin, nid nid noddin,
We're a' noddin, at our house at hame.

II.

Kate sits i' the neuk,
Suppin hen broo;
Deil tak Kate
An' she be na noddin too!
We're a' noddin, &c.

III.

How's a' wi' you, Kimmer,
And how do ye fare?
A pint o' the best o't,
And twa pints mair.
We're a' noddin, &c.

IV.

How's a' wi' you, Kimmer,
And how do ye thrive;
How many bairns hae ye?
Quo' Kimmer, I hae five.
We're a' noddin, &c.

V.

Are they a' Johnie's?
Eh! atweel no:
Twa o' them were gotten
When Johnie was awa.
We're a noddin, &c.

VI.

Cats like milk,
And dogs like broo;
Lads like lasses weel,
And lasses lads too.
We're a' noddin, &c.

* * * * *




CXI.

AH, CHLORIS, SINCE IT MAY NA BE.

Tune--"_Major Graham. _"

[Sir Harris Nicolas found these lines on Chloris among the papers of
Burns, and printed them in his late edition of the poet's works. ]


I.

Ah, Chloris, since it may na be,
That thou of love wilt hear;
If from the lover thou maun flee,
Yet let the friend be dear.

II.

Altho' I love my Chloris mair
Than ever tongue could tell;
My passion I will ne'er declare,
I'll say, I wish thee well.

III.
Tho' a' my daily care thou art,
And a' my nightly dream,
I'll hide the struggle in my heart,
And say it is esteem.

* * * * *




CXII.

O SAW YE MY DEARIE.

Tune--"_Eppie Macnab. _"

["Published in the Museum," says Sir Harris Nicolas, "without any
name. " Burns corrected some lines in the old song, which had more wit,
he said, than decency, and added others, and sent his amended version
to Johnson. ]


I.

O saw ye my dearie, my Eppie M'Nab?
O saw ye my dearie, my Eppie M'Nab?
She's down in the yard, she's kissin' the laird,
She winna come hame to her ain Jock Rab.
O come thy ways to me, my Eppie M'Nab!
O come thy ways to me, my Eppie M'Nab!
Whate'er thou hast done, be it late, be it soon,
Thou's welcome again to thy ain Jock Rab.

II.

What says she, my dearie, my Eppie M'Nab?
What says she, my dearie, my Eppie M'Nab?
She lets thee to wit, that she has thee forgot,
And for ever disowns thee, her ain Jock Rab.
O had I ne'er seen thee, my Eppie M'Nab!
O had I ne'er seen thee, my Eppie M'Nab!
As light as the air, and fause as thou's fair,
Thou's broken the heart o' thy ain Jock Rab.

* * * * *




CXIII.

WHA IS THAT AT MY BOWER-DOOR.

Tune--"_Lass an I come near thee. _"

[The "Auld man and the Widow," in Ramsay's collection is said, by
Gilbert Burns, to have suggested this song to his brother: it first
appeared in the Museum. ]


I.

Wha is that at my bower door?
O, wha is it but Findlay?
Then gae your gate, ye'se nae be here! --
Indeed, maun I, quo' Findlay.
What mak ye sae like a thief?
O come and see, quo' Findlay;
Before the morn ye'll work mischief;
Indeed will I, quo' Findlay.

II.

Gif I rise and let you in?
Let me in, quo' Findlay;
Ye'll keep me waukin wi' your din;
Indeed will I, quo' Findlay.
In my bower if you should stay?
Let me stay, quo' Findlay;
I fear ye'll bide till break o' day;
Indeed will I, quo' Findlay.

III.

Here this night if ye remain;--
I'll remain, quo' Findlay;
I dread ye'll learn the gate again;
Indeed will I, quo' Findlay.
What may pass within this bower,--
Let it pass, quo' Findlay;
Ye maun conceal till your last hour;
Indeed will I, quo' Findlay!

* * * * *




CXIV.

WHAT CAN A YOUNG LASSIE.

Tune--"_What can a young lassie do wi' an auld man. _"

[In the old strain, which partly suggested this song, the heroine
threatens only to adorn her husband's brows: Burns proposes a system
of domestic annoyance to break his heart. ]


I.

What can a young lassie, what shall a young lassie,
What can a young lassie do wi' an auld man?
Bad luck on the pennie that tempted my minnie
To sell her poor Jenny for siller an' lan'!
Bad luck on the pennie that tempted my minnie
To sell her poor Jenny for siller an' lan'!

II.

He's always compleenin' frae mornin' to e'enin',
He hosts and he hirples the weary day lang;
He's doyl't and he's dozin', his bluid it is frozen,
O, dreary's the night wi' a crazy auld man!
He's doyl't and he's dozin', his bluid it is frozen,
O, dreary's the night wi' a crazy auld man!

III.

He hums and he hankers, he frets and he cankers,
I never can please him, do a' that I can;
He's peevish and jealous of a' the young fellows:
O, dool on the day I met wi' an auld man!
He's peevish and jealous of a' the young fellows:
O, dool on the day I met wi' an auld man!

IV.

My auld auntie Katie upon me takes pity,
I'll do my endeavour to follow her plan;
I'll cross him, and wrack him, until I heart-break him,
And then his auld brass will buy me a new pan.
I'll cross him, and wrack him, until I heart-break him,
And then his auld brass will buy me a new pan.

* * * * *




CXV.

THE BONNIE WEE THING.

Tune--"_Bonnie wee thing. _"

["Composed," says the poet, "on my little idol, the charming, lovely
Davies. "]


I.

Bonnie wee thing, cannie wee thing,
Lovely wee thing, wert thou mine,
I wad wear thee in my bosom,
Lest my jewel I should tine.
Wishfully I look and languish
In that bonnie face o' thine;
And my heart it stounds wi' anguish,
Lest my wee thing be na mine.

II.

Wit, and grace, and love, and beauty
In ae constellation shine;
To adore thee is my duty,
Goddess o' this soul o' mine!
Bonnie wee thing, cannie wee thing.
Lovely wee thing, wert thou mine,
I wad wear thee in my bosom,
Lest my jewel I should tine!

* * * * *




CXVI.

THE TITHER MOON.

_To a Highland Air. _

["The tune of this song," says Burns, "is originally from the
Highlands. I have heard a Gaelic song to it, which was not by any
means a lady's song. " "It occurs," says Sir Harris Nicolas, "in the
Museum, without the name of Burns. " It was sent in the poet's own
handwriting to Johnson, and is believed to be his composition. ]


I.

The tither morn,
When I forlorn,
Aneath an oak sat moaning,
I did na trow
I'd see my Jo,
Beside me, gain the gloaming.
But he sae trig,
Lap o'er the rig.
And dawtingly did cheer me,
When I, what reck,
Did least expec',
To see my lad so near me.

II.

His bonnet he,
A thought ajee,
Cock'd sprush when first he clasp'd me;
And I, I wat,
Wi' fainness grat,
While in his grips be press'd me.
Deil tak' the war!
I late and air
Hae wish'd since Jock departed;
But now as glad
I'm wi' my lad,
As short syne broken-hearted.

III.

Fu' aft at e'en
Wi' dancing keen,
When a' were blythe and merry,
I car'd na by,
Sae sad was I
In absence o' my dearie.
But praise be blest,
My mind's at rest,
I'm happy wi' my Johnny:
At kirk and fair,
I'se ay be there,
And be as canty's ony.

* * * * *




CXVII.

AE FOND KISS.

Tune--"_Rory Dall's Port. _"

[Believed to relate to the poet's parting with Clarinda. "These
exquisitely affecting stanzas," says Scott, "contain the essence of a
thousand love-tales. " They are in the Museum. ]


I.

Ae fond kiss, and then we sever;
Ae fareweel, and then for ever!
Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.
Who shall say that fortune grieves him
While the star of hope she leaves him?
Me, nae cheerfu' twinkle lights me;
Dark despair around benights me.

II.

I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy,
Naething could resist my Nancy;
But to see her, was to love her;
Love but her, and love for ever. --
Had we never lov'd sae kindly,
Had we never lov'd sae blindly,
Never met--or never parted,
We had ne'er been broken hearted.

III.

Fare thee weel, thou first and fairest!
Fare thee weel, thou best and dearest!
Thine be ilka joy and treasure,
Peace, enjoyment, love, and pleasure!
Ae fond kiss, and then we sever;
Ae farewell, alas! for ever!
Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee!

* * * * *




CXVIII.

LOVELY DAVIES.

Tune--"_Miss Muir. _"

[Written for the Museum, in honour of the witty, the handsome, the
lovely, and unfortunate Miss Davies. ]


I.

O how shall I, unskilfu', try
The poet's occupation,
The tunefu' powers, in happy hours,
That whispers inspiration?
Even they maun dare an effort mair,
Than aught they ever gave us,
Or they rehearse, in equal verse,
The charms o' lovely Davies.
Each eye it cheers, when she appears,
Like Phoebus in the morning.
When past the shower, and ev'ry flower
The garden is adorning.
As the wretch looks o'er Siberia's shore,
When winter-bound the wave is;
Sae droops our heart when we maun part
Frae charming lovely Davies.

II.

Her smile's a gift, frae 'boon the lift,
That maks us mair than princes;
A scepter'd hand, a king's command,
Is in her darting glances:
The man in arms, 'gainst female charms,
Even he her willing slave is;
He hugs his chain, and owns the reign
Of conquering, lovely Davies.
My muse to dream of such a theme,
Her feeble pow'rs surrender:
The eagle's gaze alone surveys
The sun's meridian splendour:
I wad in vain essay the strain,
The deed too daring brave is!
I'll drap the lyre, and mute admire
The charms o' lovely Davies.

* * * * *




CXIX.

THE WEARY PUND O' TOW.

Tune--"_The weary Pund o' Tow. _"

["This song," says Sir Harris Nicolas, "is in the Musical Museum; but
it is not attributed to Burns. Mr. Allan Cunningham does not state
upon what authority he has assigned it to Burns. " The critical knight
might have, if he had pleased, stated similar objections to many songs
which he took without scruple from my edition, where they were claimed
for Burns, for the first time, and on good authority. I, however, as
it happens, did not claim the song wholly for the poet: I said "the
idea of the song is old, and perhaps some of the words. " It was sent
by Burns to the Museum, and in his own handwriting. ]


I.

The weary pund, the weary pund,
The weary pund o' tow:
I think my wife will end her life
Before she spin her tow.
I bought my wife a stane o' lint
As gude as e'er did grow;
And a' that she has made o' that,
Is ae poor pund o' tow.

II.

There sat a bottle in a bole,
Beyont the ingle low,
And ay she took the tither souk,
To drouk the stowrie tow.

III.

Quoth I, for shame, ye dirty dame,
Gae spin your tap o' tow!
She took the rock, and wi' a knock
She brak it o'er my pow.

IV.

At last her feet--I sang to see't--
Gaed foremost o'er the knowe;
And or I wad anither jad,
I'll wallop in a tow.
The weary pund, the weary pund,
The weary pund o' tow!
I think my wife will end her life
Before she spin her tow.

* * * * *




CXX.

NAEBODY.

Tune--"_Naebody. _"

[Burns had built his house at Ellisland, sowed his first crop, the
woman he loved was at his side, and hope was high; no wonder that he
indulged in this independent strain. ]


I.

I hae a wife o' my ain--
I'll partake wi' naebody;
I'll tak cuckold frae nane,
I'll gie cuckold to naebody.
I hae a penny to spend,
There--thanks to naebody;
I hae naething to lend,
I'll borrow frae naebody.

II.

I am naebody's lord--
I'll be slave to naebody;
I hae a guid braid sword,
I'll tak dunts frae naebody.
I'll be merry and free,
I'll be sad for naebody;
Naebody cares for me,
I'll care for naebody.

* * * * *




CXXI.

O, FOR ANE-AND-TWENTY, TAM!

Tune--"_The Moudiewort. _"

[In his memoranda on this song in the Museum, Burns says simply, "This
song is mine. " The air for a century before had to bear the burthen of
very ordinary words. ]


CHORUS.

An O, for ane-and-twenty, Tam,
An' hey, sweet ane-and-twenty, Tam,
I'll learn my kin a rattlin' sang,
An I saw ane-and-twenty, Tam.

I.

They snool me sair, and haud me down,
And gar me look like bluntie, Tam!
But three short years will soon wheel roun'--
And then comes ane-and-twenty, Tam.

II.

A gleib o' lan', a claut o' gear,
Was left me by my auntie, Tam,
At kith or kin I need na spier,
An I saw ane-and-twenty, Tam.

III.

They'll hae me wed a wealthy coof,
Tho' I mysel' hae plenty, Tam;
But hear'st thou, laddie--there's my loof--
I'm thine at ane-and-twenty, Tam.
An O, for ane-and-twenty, Tam!
An hey, sweet ane-and-twenty, Tam!
I'll learn my kin a rattlin' song,
An I saw ane-and-twenty, Tam.

* * * * *




CXXII.

O KENMURE'S ON AND AWA.

Tune--"_O Kenmure's on and awa, Willie. _"

[The second and third, and concluding verses of this Jacobite strain,
were written by Burns: the whole was sent in his own handwriting to
the Museum. ]


I.

O Kenmure's on and awa, Willie!
O Kenmure's on and awa!
And Kenmure's lord's the bravest lord,
That ever Galloway saw.

II.

Success to Kenmure's band, Willie!
Success to Kenmure's band;
There's no a heart that fears a Whig,
That rides by Kenmure's hand.

III.

Here's Kenmure's health in wine, Willie!
Here's Kenmure's health in wine;
There ne'er was a coward o' Kenmure's blude,
Nor yet o' Gordon's line.

IV.

O Kenmure's lads are men, Willie!
O Kenmure's lads are men;
Their hearts and swords are metal true--
And that their faes shall ken.

V.

They'll live or die wi' fame, Willie!
They'll live or die wi' fame;
But soon wi' sounding victorie,
May Kenmure's lord come hame.

VI.

Here's him that's far awa, Willie,
Here's him that's far awa;
And here's the flower that I love best--
The rose that's like the snaw!

* * * * *




CXXIII.

MY COLLIER LADDIE.

Tune--"_The Collier Laddie. _"

[The Collier Laddie was communicated by Burns, and in his handwriting,
to the Museum: it is chiefly his own composition, though coloured by
an older strain. ]


I.

Where live ye, my bonnie lass?
An' tell me what they ca' ye;
My name, she says, is Mistress Jean,
And I follow the Collier Laddie.
My name she says, is Mistress Jean,
And I follow the Collier Laddie.

II.

See you not yon hills and dales,
The sun shines on sae brawlie!
They a' are mine, and they shall be thine,
Gin ye'll leave your Collier Laddie.