I'll pu' the budding rose, when Phoebus peeps in view, For it's like a baumy kiss o' her sweet bonnie mou'; The hyacinth's for constancy, wi' its unchanging blue; COUNTRY LASSIE. [The following stanzas were published originally in Johnson's Museum.] And a' to be a posie to my ain dear IN simmer, when the hay was mawn, May. The lily it is pure, and the lily it is fair, And in her lovely bosom I'll place the lily there; The daisy's for simplicity and unaffected And a' to be a posie to my ain dear The hawthorn I will pu', wi' its locks o' siller grey, Where, like an agèd man, it stands at break o' day; But the songster's nest within the bush I And a' to be a posie to my ain dear ing star is near, And corn waved green in ilka field, Says, "I'll be wed, come o't what Out spak' a dame, in wrinkled eild,— "O' guid advisement comes nae ill. "It's ye ha'e wooers mony ane, And, lassie, ye 're but young, ye ken; "For Johnnie o' the Buskie-glen The woodbine I will pu' when the e'en- He lo'es sae weel his craps and kye, He has nae luve to spare for me: And the diamond-draps o' dew shall be But blithe's the blink o' Robie's e'e, And weel I wat he lo'es me dear; her een sae clear; The violet's for modesty, which weel Ae blink o' him I wad na gi'e she fa's to wear; And a' to be a posie to my ain dear For Buskie-glen and a' his gear." "O, thoughtless lassie, life 's a faught; The canniest gate, the strife is sair; I'll tie the posie round wi' the silken But aye fu' han't is fechtin' best, band o' luve, A hungry care's an unco care: And I'll place it in her breast, and I'll But some will spend, and some will "O, gear will buy me rigs o' land, And gear will buy me sheep and kye; But the tender heart o' leesome luve, The gowd and siller canna buy. We may be poor-Robie and I; Light is the burden luve lays on; YE JACOBITES BY NAME. [The original manuscript of this song passed into the hands of David Dunbar of Dumfries.] Tune-"Ye Jacobites by name." Content and luve bring peace and joy,-YE FAIR ELIZA. [Robina stood originally on Burns's manuscript Jacobites by name, give an ear, give an ear; Ye Jacobites by name, give an ear; Ye Jacobites by name, Your fautes I will proclaim, Your doctrines I maun blame- of this lovely song, instead of Eliza-Robina What is right, and what is wrang, by the being the name of some one described to the Poet by his friend the publisher of the Museum, Johnson.] Tune--A Gaelic air. TURN again, thou fair Eliza, Ae kind blink before we part, Rew on thy despairing lover! Canst thou break his faithfu' heart? Turn again, thou fair Eliza ; If to love thy heart denies, For pity hide the cruel sentence Under friendship's kind disguise! Thee, dear maid, ha'e I offended? The offence is loving thee: Canst thou wreck his peace for ever, Wha for thine would gladly die? While the life beats in my bosom, Thou shalt mix in ilka throe: Turn again, thou lovely maiden, Ae sweet smile on me bestow. Not the bee upon the blossom, In the pride o' sunny noon; Not the little sporting fairy, All beneath the simmer moon; Not the poet in the moment Fancy lightens on his e'e, Kens the pleasure, feels the rapture, That thy presence gi'es to me. law, by the law; What is right, and what is wrang, by the law? What is right, and what is wrang? A short sword, and a lang, A weak arm, and a strang What makes heroic strife famed afar, famed afar? What makes heroic strife famed afar? Wi' bluidie war. Then let your schemes alone in the state, in the state; Then let your schemes alone in the state; Then let your schemes alone, Adore the rising sun, And leave a man undone To his fate. YE BANKS AND BRAES O' DOON. [The subjoined is as renowned and popular as any of the glorious songs of Burns. Its lovely air was composed by James Miller, an amateur musician of Edinburgh, who was aided in the harmonizing of the accompaniment by Stephen Clarke the organist. Peggy Kennedy of Dalgarrock who is here supposed to give utterance To her lamentations, was, at seventeen years of age, cruelly deceived by her "fause lover," McDouall of Logan, according to the account given of her and her deceiver by Allan Cunningham. She was the daughter and heiress of a considerable landed proprietor in Carrick, and was the niece of a baronet. Ruined in reputation, and basely deserted, she died prematurely of that most wasting malady, the diagnosis of which is alone to be defined by its title, a broken heart.] Tune-"Caledonian Hunt's Delight." YE banks and braes o' bonnie Doon, How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair; How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae weary, fu' o' care? Thou'll break my heart, thou warbling bird, That wantons through the flowering thorn; Thou minds me o' departed joys, Departed-never to return! Aft ha'e I roved by bonnie Doon, To see the rose and woodbine twine; And ilka bird sang o' its luve, And fondly sae did I o' mine. Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose, Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree; And my fause lover stole my rose, But, ah! he left the thorn wi' me. She has an e'e-she has but ane, The cat has twa the very colour; Five rusty teeth, forbye a stump, A clapper-tongue wad deave a miller; A whiskin' beard about her mou', Her nose and chin they threaten ither Sic a wife as Willie had, I wad na gi'e a button for her. She's bow-houghed, she 's hein-shinned; I wad na gi'e a button for her. An' wi' her loof her face a-washin'; But Willie's wife is nae sae trig, She dights her grunzie wi' a hushion; Her walie nieves like midden-creels; Her face wad fyle the Logan-Water: Sic a wife as Willie had, I wad na gi'e a button for her. But far better days LADY MARY ANN. This is the modification by Burns of an ancient ballad.] Tune-"Craigston's growing." O, LADY MARY ANN Looks o'er the castle wa', The flower among them a',- But he's growin' yet. O father, O father! An' ye think it fit, We'll send him a year To the college yet: We'll sew a green ribbon Round about his hat, And that will let them ken He's to marry yet. Lady Mary Ann Was a flower i' the dew, Sweet was its smell, And bonnie was its hue; And the langer it blossomed The sweeter it grew; For the lily in the bud Will be bonnier yet. Young Charlie Cochrane Was the sprout of an aik; Bonnie and bloomin' And straught was its make : The sun took delight To shine for its sake, And it will be the brag O' the forest yet. The simmer is gane I trust will come again, For my bonnie laddie's young, But he's growin' yet. FAREWEEL TO A' OUR SCOTTISH FAME. [The following is a lamentation by Robert Burns over the Union of Scotland with England, akin in its patriotic spirit to Daniel O'Connell's cry for the Repeal of the Union between Ireland and England.] Tune-"Such a parcel of rogues in a nation.." FAREWEEL to a' our Scottish fame! Such a parcel of rogues in a nation! What force or guile could not subdue, But English gold has been our bane- O would, or I had seen the day That treason thus could sell us, My auld grey head had lien in clay Wi' Bruce and loyal Wallace! But, pith and power, till my last hour, I'll mak' this declaration : When the leaves they were green, We're bought an sold for English And the days are awa' gold Such a parcel of rogues in a nation! KELLYBURN BRAES. [The subjoined is an adaptation by Burns of an antique country ballad known in England as "The Farmer's Old Wife:" vide No. 62 of the Percy Society's Publications.] THERE lived a carl on Kellyburn braes, (Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme,) The devil has got the auld wife on his back, (Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme,) And he had a wife was the plague o' his And, like a poor pedlar, he 's carried his days: (And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime.) pack: (And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime.) Ae day as the carl gaed up the lang glen, He's carried her hame to his ain hallan |