as to the vessel's movements, he chafed and fretted at the delay of his brother officer Lewars, who, a weary while before, had gone to Dumfries to obtain the help of a party of dragoons. Hearing Burns in his impatience give utterance to some expletive on his friend, one of his fellows responded by wishing aloud that the devil had him for his pains, hinting that the Poet would do well if he strung the dilatory Lewars up in a line or two, en revanche. According to Lockhart's account of the incident, Burns said nothing in reply, but, striding apart for a few minutes among the reeds and shingle, soon afterwards rejoined The de'il's awa', the de'il's awa', The de'il's awa' wi' th' Exciseman; He's danced awa', he's danced awa', He's danced awa' wi' th' Exciseman! NESS. his party, whom he convulsed with laughter by THE LOVELY LASS OF INVERchanting to them this literally devil-may-care ditty on their sluggish comrade. Very shortly after this, Lewars arriving with the dragoons, Burns, sword in hand, was among the first to leap on board the brig among the smugglers.] Tune-"The de'il cam' fiddling through the " town. [The subjoined verses were written by Burns immediately after his Highland tour with Nicol, in the September of 1787, when the Poet visited the fatal field of Culloden, where, on the 16th of April, 1746, the Young Chevalier, at THE de'il cam' fiddling through the the head of his five thousand Highlanders, had town, And danced awa' wi' th' Exciseman, And ilka wife cries-" Auld Mahoun, I wish you luck o' the prize, man!" The de'il's awa', the de'il's awa', The de'il's awa' wi' th' Exciseman; He's danced awa', he's danced awa', He's danced awa' wi' th' Excise man! We'll mak' our maut, we'll brew our drink, We'll dance, and sing, and rejoice, man; And mony braw thanks to the meikle That danced awa' wi' th' Exciseman. There's threesome reels, there's four- There's hornpipes and strathspeys, man; But the ae best dance e'er cam' to the land Was-the de'il's awa' wi' th' Excise man. to succumb to the eight thousand Hanoverian troops led by the Duke of Cumberland.] THE lovely lass o' Inverness, Nae joy nor pleasure can she see; My father dear and brethren three. Their winding-sheet the bluidy clay, Their graves are growing green to see; That ever blest a woman's e'e! A bluidy man I trow thou be; A RED, RED ROSE. [Lieutenant Hincks has been absurdly credited with writing the latter portion of this lovely song, as a farewell to his sweetheart. It is in every particle, however, wholly and solely from the hand and heart of Burns. Another melody which fits the words more exactly if possible than the one here named, is popularly known as "Low down he's in the broom."] Tune-"Graham's Strathspey." O, MY luve 's like a red, red rose, That's newly sprung in June: O, my luve 's like the melodie That's sweetly played in tune. As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear, And the rocks melt wi' the sun : I will luve thee still, my dear, While the sands o' life shall run. And fare thee weel, my only luve ! JEANIE'S BOSOM. [A world of meaning lies in this atom of a song, but with that also a wondrous dearth of rhyme.] Tune-"Louis, what reck I by thee?" LOUIS, what reck I by thee, Or Geordie on his ocean? Dyvor, beggar louns to meI reign in Jeanie's bosom. Let her crown my love her law, And in her breast enthrone me; Kings and nations, swith awa' ! Reif randies, I disown ye! -0 HAD I THE WYTE SHE BADE ME. [Much grossness was shredded off the vile old song which began like this, with an almost "damnable iteration," when Burns did his best to render it in some degree presentable. He might probably have done better than his best had he altogether saved himself the trouble of emendation.] Tune-"Had I the wyte she bade me.' A coward loon she ca'd me! Sae craftily she took me ben, And bade me mak' nae clatter; "For our ramgunshoch, glum guidman Is o'er ayont the water." Whae'er shall say I wanted grace, When I did kiss and dawte her, Could I for shame, could I for shame, OUT OVER THE FORTH. [The following was acknowledged to be his, in a letter addressed by Burns, on the 12th of March, 1791, to Alexander Cunningham.] Tune-"Charlie Gordon's welcome hame." OUT over the Forth I look to the north, But what is the north and its Highlands to me? The south nor the east gi'e ease to my breast, The far foreign land, or the wild-rolling sea. But I look to the west, when I gae to rest, That happy my dreams and my slumbers may be ; For far in the west lives he I lo'e best, The lad that is dear to my babie and me. Tune-" Jacky Latin." O, GAT ye me, O, gat ye me, O, gat ye me wi' naething? The lass of Ecclefechan. O, haud your tongue now, Luckie Laing, Syne I began to wander : I tint my whistle and my sang, I tint my peace and pleasure; But your green graff, now, Luckie Laing, Wad airt me to my treasure. THE COOPER O' CUDDIE. [This was another ditty with a tainted atmo THE LASS OF ECCLEFECHAN. sphere about it which Burns did his best to dis [Ecclefechan, which was the birthplace of Carlyle, on the 4th December, 1795, was ten months previously, on the 7th February in that same year, the halting-place, in the midst of snow ten feet deep, of Robert Burns-vide the latter's epistle of that date to George Thomson. As Supervisor of Excise, Burns, in the latter portion of his brief life, not infrequently found there a halting-place, in Annandale. Challenged one day by his brother officer in the excise, Lewars, to find a rhyme for the oddly named town-that "unfortunate, wicked little village," as Burns called it-the ready song-writer at once improvised, as they loitered through the main street Then up we gat and took the road, Whare the brandy stoup we gart it clink, a far better rhyme surely than the one more deliberately given in the subjoined.] infect, if not to dissipate.] Tune-"Bab at the Bowster." THE cooper o' Cuddie cam' here awa'; door, Behind the door, behind the door, We'll hide the cooper behind the door, And cover him under a mawn, O. He sought them out, he sought them in, Wi' de'il ha'e her! and de'il ha'e him! But the body was sae doited and blin', He wist na where he was gaun, O. We'll hide the cooper, &c. They coopered at e'en, they coopered at morn, Till our guidman has gotten the scorn; We'll hide the cooper behind the Behind the door, behind the door ; We'll hide the cooper behind the door, And cover him under a mawn, O. SOMEBODY. [This is a delicious song, the dainty words and charming air of which have ensured to it a perennial popularity.] Tune-"For the sake of somebody." My heart is sair, I dare na tell, I could wake a winter night Ye Powers, that smile on virtuous love, O, sweetly smile on somebody! -0 THE CARDIN' O'T. [The haslock wool is notable among fleeces as the softest and most delicate, being shorn for coolness from the throat of the sheep in summertime. There is something of the tenderness of "John Anderson, my Jo," in the subjoined.] Tune-"Salt fish and dumplings." I COFT a stane o' haslock woo', I lo'e him best of ony yet. The tailor staw the linin' o't. For though his locks be lyart grey, And though his brow be beld aboon, Yet I ha'e seen him on a day The pride of a' the parishen. The tailor staw the linin' o't. THE LASS THAT MADE THE BED TO ME. [According to Burns, this ballad was composed by him with historical reference to an amour of Charles the First when hiding in the North near Aberdeen, during the earlier days of the Commonwealth, the bonnie lass in question being traditionally a daughter of the house of PortLetham. The Poet's own wooing of Jean Armour, however, was so entirely akin to the incident thus sung of by him, that in a work published by the Messrs. Longmans and Co., fifteen years ago (Dreamland, p. 75), the Editor of the present volume referred as pointedly as possible to her as the one here really indicated. His intense affection for her from first to last |