by Robert Burns
And set them a’ in order:
5 And they declare, Terreagles fair,
For their abode they chuse it;
There’s no a heart in a’ the land not
But ’s lighter at the news o’t. —
Tho’ stars in skies may disappear,
10 And angry tempests gather;
The happy hour may soon be near
That brings us pleasant weather:
The weary night o’ care and grief
May hae a joyfu’ morrow, have
15 So dawning day has brought relief,
Fareweel our night o’ sorrow. — farewell
This song celebrates the return of Lady Winifred Constable-Maxwell to rebuild Terreagles, the family seat, which had been forfeited by the participation of her grandfather, William Maxwell, 5th Earl of Nithsdale, in the 1715 rebellion. Discussed in the Introduction, Lady Winifred (Letter 377) was the passionate object of Burns’s still contentious claim of the mutual Jacobite history of their respective families.
The Country Lassie
or In Simmer, when the Hay was Mawn
First printed in S.M.M., Vol. 4, 13th August 1792.
In simmer, when the hay was mawn, summer, mown
And corn wav’d green in ilka field, every
While claver blooms white o’er the lea, clover, grass lands
And roses blaw in ilka bield; blow, shelter
5 Blythe Bessie, in the milking shiel hut
Says, I’ll be wed, come o’t what will;
Out spake a dame in wrinkled eild, age
O’ gude advisement comes nae ill. good, no
Its ye hae wooers mony ane, have, many a one
10 And lassie, ye’re but young, ye ken; know
Then wait a wee, and cannie wale, while, cautious chose
A routhie butt, a routhie ben: well-stocked kitchen, parlour
There Johnie o’ the Buskieglen,
Fu’ is his barn, fu’ is his byre; full
15 Tak this frae me, my bonie hen, take, from
It ’s plenty beets the luver’s fire. fans
For Johnie o’ the Buskieglen,
I dinna care a single flie; do not
He lo’es sae weel his craps and kye, so well, crops, cattle
20 He has nae loove to spare for me: no
But blythe’s the blink o’ Robie’s e’e, eye
And weel I wat he lo’es me dear; well, know
Ae blink o’ him I wad na gie one, would not give
For Buskieglen and a’ his gear. possessions
25 O thoughtless lassie, life’s a faught, struggle
The canniest gate, the strife is sair; prudent way, sore/harsh
But ay fu’-han’t is fechtin best, full-handed, fighting
A hungry care’s an unco care: heavy
But some will spend, and some will spare,
30 An’ wilfu’ folk maun hae their will; shall have
Syne as ye brew, my maiden fair, while/thus
Keep mind that ye maun drink the yill. must, ale
O gear will buy me rigs o’ land, wealth
And gear will buy me sheep and kye; cattle
35 But the tender heart o’ leesome loove, gladsome
The gowd and siller canna buy: gold, coins cannot
We may be poor, Robie and I,
Light is the burden Loove lays on;
Content and Loove brings peace and joy,
40 What mair hae queens upon a throne. more have
Burns acknowledges authorship of this work in a letter to George Thomson in October 1794, mentioning the song along with An O for Ane and Twenty Tam, remarking they ‘are both mine’ (Letter 644). Youthful feminine passion is, characteristically, wholly victorious over aged prudence.
Fair Eliza
First printed in Johnson’s S.M.M., Vol. 4, 13th August 1792.
Turn again, thou fair Eliza,
Ae kind blink before we part; one, glance
Rew on thy despairing Lover, have pity
Canst thou break his faithfu’ heart!
5 Turn again, thou fair Eliza,
If to love thy heart denies,
For pity hide the cruel sentence
Under friendship’s kind disguise!
Thee, sweet maid, hae I offended? have
10 The offence is loving thee:
Canst thou wreck his peace for ever,
Wha for thine wad gladly die! who
While the life beats in my bosom,
Thou shalt mix in ilka throe: every
15 Turn again, thou lovely maiden,
Ae sweet smile on me bestow. — one
Not the bee upon the blossom,
In the pride o’ sinny noon; sunny
Not the little sporting fairy,
20 All beneath the simmer moon; summer
Not the Poet in the moment
Fancy lightens in his e’e, eye
Kens the pleasure, feels the rapture, knows
That thy presence gies to me. gives
It is assumed this song was the result of a promise by Burns to James Johnson that he would compose a love song for him on a lady: ‘Have you never a fair Godess that leads you a wild-goose-chase of amorous devotion?… and I shall task my Muse to celebrate her’ (Letter 258).
Ye Jacobites By Name
First printed in Johnson’s S.M.M., Vol. 4, 13th August 1792.
Ye 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, faults
5 Your doctrines I maun blame, will
You shall hear. —
What is Right, and what is Wrang, by the law, by the law?
What is Right, and what is Wrang, by the law?
What is Right, and what is Wrang?
10 A short Sword, and a lang, long
A weak arm, and a strang
For to draw. —
What makes heroic strife, fam’d afar, fam’d afar?
What makes heroic strife, fam’ d afar?
15 What makes heroic strife?
To whet th’ Assassin’s knife,
Or hunt a Parent’s life
Wi’ bludie war. — bloody
Then let your schemes alone, in the State, in the State,
20 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. —
This song has generally been seen as a traditional Whig anti-Jacobite polemic. This would be an unusual viewpoint for Burns. Donaldson (pp. 85–6) produces a subtle, complex reading which reveals it as a Jacobite’s renunciatory perception of the terrible, ideological violence that pervades all political systems.
The Posie
First printed in Johnson’s S.M.M., Vol. 4, 13th August 1792.
O luve will venture in where it daur na weel be seen, dare not well
O luve will venture in where wisdom ance hath been; once
But I will doun yon river rove, amang the woods sae green, down, so
And a’ to pu’ a posie to my ain dear May. — pull, own
5 The primrose I will pu’, the firstling o’ the year;
And I will pu’ the pink, the emblem o’ my Dear,
For she’s the pink o’ womankind, and blooms without a peer;
And a’ to be a posie to my ain dear May. —
I’ll pu’ the budding rose when Phoebus peeps in view, the Sun
10 For it’s like a baumy kiss o’ her sweet, bonie mou; mouth
The hyacinth’s for constancy, wi’ its unchanging blue,
And a’ to be a posie to my ain dear May. —
The lily it is pure, and the lily it is fair,
And in her lovely bosom I’ll place the lily there;
15 The daisy’s for simplicity and unaffected air,
And a’ to be a posie to my ain dear May. —
&n
bsp; The hawthorn I will pu’, wi’ its locks o’ siller gray, silver
Where, like an agèd man it stands at break o’ day;
But the songster’s nest within the bush I winna tak away; will not
20 And a’ to be a posie to my ain dear May. —
The woodbine I will pu’ when the e’ening star is near,
And the diamond draps o’ dew shall be her een sae clear; drops, eyes so
The violet’s for modesty which weel she fa’s to wear, well has a right
And a’ to be a posie to my ain dear May. —
25 I’ll tie the posie round wi’ the silken band o’ luve,
And I’ll place it in her breast, and I’ll swear by a’ abuve, above
That to my latest draught o’ life the band shall ne’er remuve, remove
And this will be a posie to my ain dear May.
This beautiful lyric originates with Mrs Jean Burns, who rarely receives credit for her role in singing old and new songs to the poet – a valuable service to any songwriter. Burns was delighted with the song There was a Pretty May, and A-Milkin’ She Went as sung to him by Jean. He composed new lyrics for the song and wrote to Thomson several years later that it was ‘My composition … the old words are trash’ (Letter 644). B.C., 1922, p. 9 gives the traditional lyric.
Ye Flowery Banks o’ Bonie Doon
Tune: Cambdelmore
First printed in Johnson’s S.M.M., Vol. 4, 13th August 1792.
Ye flowery banks o’ bonie Doon,
How can ye blume sae fair; bloom so
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
And I sae fu’ o’ care! so full
5 Thou’ll break my heart, thou bonie bird
That sings upon the bough;
Thou minds me o’ the happy days
When my fause luve was true. false
Thou’ll break my heart, thou bonie bird
10 That sings beside thy mate;
For sae I sat, and sae I sang, so
And wist na o’ my fate. knew nothing
Aft hae I rov’d by bonie Doon, often have
To see the wood-bine twine,
15 And ilka bird sang o’ its luve, each
And sae did I o’ mine. so
Wi’ lightsome heart I pu’d a rose pulled
Frae aff its thorny tree, from off
And my fause luver staw my rose, false, stole
20 But left the thorn wi’ me.
Wi’ lightsome heart I pu’d a rose, pulled
Upon a morn in June:
And sae I flourish’d on the morn, so
And sae was pu’d or noon! so, pulled ere
This is essentially the first version of Ye Banks and Braes, set to a different tune than the final version. The contrast between birds and singer is simple but emotionally profound.
Ye Banks and Braes o’ Bonie Doon
Tune: The Caledonian Hunt’s Delight
First printed in Johnson’s S.M.M., Vol. 4, 13th August 1792.
Ye banks and braes o’ bonie Doon, hill slopes
How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair; so
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
And I sae weary, fu’ o’ care! so
5 Thou’ll break my heart, thou warbling bird,
That wantons thro’ the flowering thorn:
Thou minds me o’ departed joys,
Departed never to return. —
Aft hae I rov’d by bonie Doon, often have
10 To see the rose and woodbine twine;
And ilka bird sang o’ its Luve, each
And fondly sae did I o’ mine. — so
Wi’ lightsome heart I pu’d a rose, pulled
Fu’ sweet upon its thorny tree;
15 And my fause Luver staw my rose, stole
But, ah! he left the thorn wi’ me. —
Although a revision of the earlier lyric set to a different air, both were printed in the same volume by Johnson. This version brings the song to a perfect pitch.
Willie Wastle
Tune: The Eight Men of Moidart
First printed in Johnson’s S.M.M., Vol. 4, 13th August 1792.
Willie Wastle dwalls on Tweed, dwelt
The spot they ca’ it Linkumdoddie. called
A creeshie wabster till his trade, weaver good
Can steal a clue wi’ ony bodie: any
He has a wife that’s dour and din, sulky, pale
Tinkler Madgie was her mither; gypsy, mother
Sic a wife as Willie’s wife, such
I wadna gie a button for her. — would not give
She has an e’e, she has but ane, eye, one
The cat has twa, the very colour; two
Five rusty teeth, forbye a stump, also
A clapper-tongue wad deave a miller: would deafen
5 A whiskin beard about her mou, mouth
Her nose and chin they threaten ither; each other
Sic a wife as Willie’s wife, such
I wadna gie a button for her. — would not give
She’s bow-hough’d, she’s hem-shin’d, bandy-legged, splayed feet
10 Ae limpin leg a hand-bread shorter; one, hand-breadth/size
She’s twisted right, she’s twisted left,
To balance fair in ilka quarter: each
She has a hump upon her breast,
The twin o’ that upon her shouther; shoulder
15 Sic a wife as Willie’s wife,
I wadna gie a button for her. —
Auld baudrans by the ingle sits, old cat, fireside
An’ wi’ her loof her face a washin; paw
But Willie’s wife is nae sae trig, not so dainty
20 She dights her grunzie wi’ a hushian: wipes, mouth, arm stockings
Her waly nieves like midden-creels, big fists, byre baskets
Her face wad fyle the Logan-water; would foul
Sic a wife as Willie’s wife,
I wadna gie a button for her. —
A splendid exercise in the comic grotesque derived from the Scottish flyting tradition and eighteenth-century cartoon caricature. The word ‘clue’ (l. 4) is from ‘clew’, thread. Part of the craft must have been a proficiency in stealing material. Linkumdoddie was apparently once a village or hamlet five miles from Broughton, near the Logan Water’s confluence with the Tweed.
Lady Mary Ann
First printed in Johnson’s S.M.M., Vol. 4, 13th August 1792.
O Lady Mary Ann looks o’er the castle-wa’, wall
She saw three bonie boys playing at the ba’, ball
The youngest he was the flower amang them a’,
My bonie laddie’s young but he’s growin yet. —
5 O Father, O Father, an ye think it fit,
We’ll send him a year to the College yet,
We’ll sew a green ribban round about his hat, ribbon
And that will let them ken he’s to marry yet. — know
Lady Mary Ann was a flower in the dew,
10 Sweet was its smell and bonie was its hue,
And the langer it blossom’d, the sweeter it grew, longer
For the lily in the bud will be bonier yet. —
Young Charlie Cochran was the sprout of an aik, oak
Bonie, and bloomin and straucht was its make, straight, like
15 The sun took delight to shine for its sake,
And it will be the brag o’ the forest yet. — boast
The Simmer is gane when the leaves they were green, summer, gone
And the days are awa that we hae seen, away, have
But far better days I trust will come again,
20 For my bonie laddie’s young but he’s growin yet. —
This is adapted from an old song Burns may have heard sung. Hans Hecht quotes the old words in Songs From David Herd’s Manuscripts (1904, p. 145) – ‘She looked o’er the castle wa’, /She saw three Lords play at the ba’: /O the youngest is the flower of a’, /But my love is lang o’ growing’. The difference in metre with the tradition
al verse is due to Burns matching his revised lyric to a new tune.
Such a Parcel of Rogues in a Nation
First printed in Johnson’s S.M.M., Vol. 4, 13th August 1792.
Fareweel to a’ our Scottish fame, farewell
Fareweel our ancient glory;
Fareweel even to the Scottish name,
Sae famed in martial story! so
5 Now Sark rins o’er the Solway sands, runs
And Tweed rins to the ocean, runs
To mark whare England’s province stands, where
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation
What force or guile could not subdue,
10 Thro’ many warlike ages,
Is wrought now by a coward few,
For hireling traitors’ wages.
The English steel we could disdain,
Secure in valour’s station;
15 But English gold has been our bane,
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation!
O would, or I had seen the day
That Treason thus could sell us,
My auld grey head had lien in clay, old, lain
20 Wi’ BRUCE and loyal WALLACE!
But pith and power, till my last hour,
I’ll mak this declaration;
We’re bought and sold for English gold,
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation!
With his customary erudition, Kinsley has detected a group of popular anti-Union songs out of which this pristine national elegiac lyric has been distilled. Most of these are located in James Hogg’s, The Jacobite Relics of Scotland, 1819, nos. xl-xlii and lxii. The most likely source found in Hogg, no xxxix, is The Awkward Squad, an attack on the ‘Thirty-one Rogues’, the Scottish Commissioners who allegedly sold the nation out in 1707:
