MY LOVE SHE'S BUT A LASSIE YET. [Apart from the choral refrain, which includes in it the title of this fine old song rejuvenated, the subjoined is, beyond any doubt, Burns's composition.] Tune-"Lady Badinscoth's Reel." I RUE the day I sought her, O, My love she's but a lassie yet; She 'll no be half sae saucy yet.] Come, draw a drap o' the best o't yet, Come, draw a drap o' the best o't yet; Gae seek for pleasure where ye will, But here I never missed it yet. We're a' dry wi' drinking o't, We're a' dry wi' drinking o't; The minister kissed the fiddler's wife, My love she's but a lassie yet; IF THOU SHOULD ASK MY LOVE. [The subjoined was contributed by Burns in 1789 to Johnson's Museum.] Tune-"Jamie, come, try me." Could I deny thee? Jamie, come, try me, Jamie, come, try me ; If thou would win my love, Jamie, come, try me. If thou should kiss me, love, Jamie, come, try me, MY BONNIE MARY. [Although Burns endeavoured to mystify both his brother Gilbert and his friend Mrs. Dunlop as to the authorship of this finest lyric ever sung to the quaffing of a stirrup-cup, there can be no reasonable doubt as to its being his own production.] Tune-"Go, fetch to me a pint o' wine." Go, fetch to me a pint o' wine, An' fill it in a silver tassie, That I may drink before I go A service to my bonnie lassie. The boat rocks at the pier o' Leith; Fu' loud the wind blaws frae the ferry; The ship lies by the Berwick-law, And I maun leave my bonnie Mary. The trumpets sound, the banners fly, The battle closes thick and bloody; Wad make me langer wish to tarry; Nor shout o' war that 's heard afar It's leaving thee, my bonnie Mary. How little of life's scanty span may O, were some villains hangit high, remain ! And ilka body had their ain! What aspects old Time, in his progress, Then I might see the joyfu' sight, has worn! What ties cruel Fate in my bosom has torn! How foolish, or worse, till our summit is gained! And downward, how weakened, how darkened, how pained! This life's not worth having, with all it can give ; For something beyond it poor man sure must live. My Highland Harry back again. O, for him back again! I wad gi'e a' Knockhaspie's land SIMMER'S A PLEASANT TIME. [Ritson regarded the air to which these verses are sung as one of the most antique of all the Scottish melodies. It is an old, old song, which has, however, become rejuvenescent under the master-hand of Burns. The opening stanza is entirely his, but he gave the rest of the ditty, as well, the completest revision.] Tune-"Aye waukin O." SIMMER 's a pleasant time; Flowers of every colour; Waukin still and wearie; For thinking on my dearie. When I sleep I dream, When I wauk I'm eerie ; For thinking on my dearie. Lanely night comes on, A the lave are sleepin'; I think on my bonnie lad, And I bleer my een wi' greetin'. Aye waukin O, Waukin still and wearie; Sleep I can get nane For thinking on my dearie. BEWARE O' BONNIE ANN. [The bonnie Ann here sung of was Ann Masterton, daughter of Allan Masterton, a schoolmaster at Edinburgh. Later on she married a There's somebody weary wi' lying her Mr Derbi-hire, and as recently as in the year lane; There's somebody weary wi' lying her lane; There's some that are dowie, I trow wad be fain To see the bit tailor come skippin' again. 1840 was living in London.] Tune-"Ye gallants bright." YE gallants bright, I rede ye right, 274 Her een sae bright, like stars by night, Sae jimply laced her genty waist, Youth, grace, and love attendant move, And pleasure leads the van: The captive bands may chain the hands, WHEN ROSY MAY COMES IN WI' FLOWERS. [The ancient melody to which these words of 'Burns are sung, must have had a peculiar claim of its own upon the Poet's regard, seeing that it was, time out of mind, the March of the Gardeners. All but the antique refrain, which gives the title to the air, was his own production.] Tune-"The gardener wi' his paidle." WHEN rosy May comes in wi' flowers, To deck her gay green-spreading bowers, Then busy, busy are his hours The gardener wi' his paidle. The crystal waters gently fa' ;· The scented breezes round him blaw The gardener wi' his paidle. When purple morning starts the hare, When day, expiring in the west, [In the foregoing shape, this song was anonymously contributed by Burns to Johnson's Museum, but afterwards, with a view to fit the words in with the charming melody of" Dainty Davie," he remodelled it, as follows, for Thomson's collection.] Tune-" Dainty Davie." Now rosy May comes in wi' flowers, And now comes in my happy hours, Meet me on the warlock knowe, The crystal waters round us fa', The merry birds are lovers a', When purple morning starts the hare, To steal upon her early fare, When day, expiring in the west, I flee to his arms I lo'e best, Meet me on the warlock knowe, Bonnie Davie, dainty Davie ; There I'll spend the day wi' you, My ain dear dainty Davie. |