THE RIGS O' BARLEY. [This exquisite song was one of the choicest gems in the first small volume of poems published in 1786, at Kilmarnock. Burns himself referred to it as written at the time of his resi dence at Lochlea, before he went to Irvine. My fixed conviction is that it bears allusion to a much later period than that, namely, to the time when he was under the maddening influence of the Armour miseries, Annie being the merest blind for another name, the dearest to him in all the world. It was, as I conceive, in his wild Scotch way, the Poet's own Epithalamium.] Tune-"Corn rigs are bonnie." The time flew by wi' tentless heed, An' corn rigs are bonnie: The sky was blue, the wind was still, Amang the rigs o' barley: I ken't her heart was a' my ain; Corn rigs, an' barley rigs, &c. I locked her in my fond embrace; Corn rigs, an' barley rigs, &c. I ha'e been blithe wi' comrades dear; Though three times doubled fairly, That happy night was worth them a', Amang the rigs o' barley. Com rigs, an' barley rigs, An' corn rigs are bonnie: I'll ne'er forget that happy night, Amang the rigs wi' Annie. MONTGOMERY'S PEGGY. [Peggy was the housekeeper of Archibald Montgomery of Coilsfield. Her coquetry gave Burns little more than a heartache, on his finding that, before they met, she had been engaged to another.] Tune-"Galla Water." ALTHOUGH my bed were in yon muir, Amang the heather, in my plaidie, Yet happy, happy, would I be, Had I my dear Montgomery's Peggy. When o'er the hill beat surly storms, And winter nights were dark and rainy; I'd seek some dell, and in my arms I'd shelter dear Montgomery's Peggy. Were I a baron, proud and high, SONG COMPOSED IN AUGUST. [The Peggy here celebrated was that charming fillette, by name Margaret Thomson, wholiving next door to the school-house at Kirkoswald, where Burns at eighteen was, in 1777, studying geometry and mensuration-so overset his trigonometry, and drove him off at a tangent from the spheres of his studies, that he could only struggle on a few days longer with his sines and cosines. He at one time even meditated marrying her, and would probably have done so only that he was foredoomed to espouse Jean Armour, while Peggy Thomson was reserved to become later on, in the town of Ayr, the wife of one Neilson.] Tune-"I had a horse, and I had nae mair." Now westlin winds and slaughtering guns Bring autumn's pleasant weather; The moorcock springs, on whirring wings, Amang the blooming heather: Now waving grain, wide o'er the plain, Delights the weary farmer; And the moon shines bright, when I rove at night, To muse upon my charmer. The partridge loves the fruitful fells ; The plover loves the mountains; The woodcock haunts the lonely dells, The soaring hern the fountains; Through lofty groves the cushat roves, The path of man to shun it; The hazel bush o'erhangs the thrush, The spreading thorn the linnet. Thus every kind their pleasure find— But, Peggy dear, the evening's clear, Thick flies the skimming swallow; The sky is blue, the fields in view, All fading-green and yellow : Come, let us stray our gladsome way, And view the charms of Nature; The rustling corn, the fruited thorn, And every happy creature. We'll gently walk, and sweetly talk, Till the silent moon shine clearly; I'll grasp thy waist, and, fondly prest, Swear how I love thee dearly: Not vernal showers to budding flowers, Not autumn to the farmer, So dear can be as thou to me, My fair, my lovely charmer! BONNIE PEGGY ALISON. [This is the earliest known specimen of Burns's adaptation to a purer theme of a fragmentary portion of one of the old songs of Scotland, until then tainted with indelicacy. The lyric chorus was all he deigned to perpetuate.] Tune-"Braes o' Balquhidder." ILK care and fear, when thou art near, [I'll kiss thee yet, yet, An' I'll kiss thee o'er again; An' I'll kiss thee yet, yet, My bonnie Peggy Alison !] When in my arms, wi' a' thy charms, And by thy een, sae bonnie blue, An' I'll kiss thee o'er again; My bonnie Peggy Alison !] YOUNG PEGGY. " [Margaret Kennedy was the heroine of this dainty love song, which Burns enclosed to her in a brief note, describing it as a small though grateful tribute offered to her in return for the honour of her acquaintance. They had been introduced to one another at Mauchline, during the autumn of 1785, when she was a "bonnie lassie of seventeen." Her father was a small landed proprietor in Carrick. Unhappily, the Poet's aspiration in her regard, at the opening of the fourth stanza, was anything but fulfilledthe McDouall of Logan having played so falsely by her in the following autumn (that of 1786) that Burns, hearing of it shortly before he started for Edinburgh, poured forth in lamentation, on her behalf, his immortal verses, "Ye Banks and Braes o' Bonnie Doon.] Tune-"Last time I cam' o'er the muir." YOUNG Peggy blooms our bonniest lass, Her blush is like the morning, The rosy dawn, the springing grass With pearly gems adorning: Her eyes outshine the radiant beams And cheer each fresh'ning flower. Her lips more than the cherries bright, When feathered tribes are courting, Were Fortune lovely Peggy's foe, Such sweetness would relent her; As blooming Spring unbends the brow Of surly, savage Winter. Detraction's eye no aim can gain, Her winning powers to lessen ; And spiteful Envy grins in vain, The poisoned tooth to fasten. Ye Powers of Honour, Love, and Truth, The Destinies intend her; THE RANTIN' DOG THE DADDIE O'T. [This would seem to have been written rather in tenderness for the ill-starred babe and its mother "Bonnie Betty," than as Sir Harris Nicolas insists, in flagrant defiance of public My mither sent me to the town, opinion, as to the wrong-doing.] Tune-"East nook o' Fife." OH, wha my baby-clouts will buy? Oh, wha will tent me when I cry? Wha will kiss me where I lie?— The rantin' dog the daddie o't. Oh, wha will own he did the fau't? Oh, wha will buy the groanin' maut? Oh, wha will tell me how to ca't?— The rantin' dog the daddie o't. When I mount the creepie chair, MY HEART WAS ANCE AS BLITHE AND FREE. [Another fragment of one of the old lyrics of Scotland is preserved in the following chorus, which for that reason is bracketed as not by Burns.] Tune-"To the weavers gin ye go." Has gart me change my sang. [To the weavers gin ye go, fair To the weavers gin ye go; To warp a plaiden wab ; [To the weavers gin ye go, &c.] [To the weavers gin ye go, &c.] But what was said, or what was done, Shame fa' me gin I tell ; But oh! I fear the kintra soon [To the weavers gin ye go, fair To the weavers gin ye go; MY NANNIE, O! [Agnes Fleming, a servant at Calcothill, near Lochlea, was the one here sung of as Nannie.] Tune-"My Nannie, O." BEHIND yon hills, where Lugar flows, 'Mang moors an' mosses many, O, The wintry sun the day has closed, And I'll awa' to Nannie, O. The westlin' wind blaws loud an' shrill; My Nannie's charming, sweet, an' young, Her face is fair, her heart is true, A country lad is my degree, An' few there be that ken me, O; But what care I how few they be? I'm welcome aye to Nannie, O. My riches a''s my penny-fee, An' I maun guide it cannie, O. Our auld guidman delights to view His sheep an' kye thrive bonnie, O; But I'm as blithe that hauds his pleugh, An' has nae care but Nannie, O. Come weel, come woe, I care na by, But live an' love my Nannie, O. A FRAGMENT. Tune-"John Anderson my Jo." ONE night as I did wander, When corn begins to shoot, I sat me down to ponder, Upon an auld tree root: Auld Ayr ran by before me, And bickered to the seas; A cushat crowded o'er me, That echoed through the braes. GREEN GROW THE RASHES. [An old choral chaunt, long popular in Scotland before he was born, has here suggested to Burns one of his finest lyrics.] THERE's nought but care on every han', Green grow the rashes, O! The warl'ly race may riches chase, [Green grow the rashes, O! &c.] But gi'e me a canny hour at e'en, [Green grow the rashes, O! &c.] For you sae douse, ye sneer at this, Ye're nought but senseless asses, O; The wisest man the warl' e'er saw, He dearly loved the lasses, O. [Green grow the rashes, O! &c.] |