by Robert Burns
And them that comes behin’,
15 Let them do the like,
And spend the gear they win. wealth
Hey ca’ thro’ &c.
This is based on an old Fifeshire fishing song. It has been assumed that Burns collected this work when passing through Fife at the close of his Highland tour in the late Autumn of 1787. It is not certain that Burns improved the song but, on the assumption he did, it is placed in the canon. Given that many such old works are irregular in metre and uneven in quality, this song does appear to have been tightened up by Burns. The deceptively simple clarity of lyric would appear to be his handiwork.
Can Ye Labour Lea
First printed in Johnson’s S.M.M., Vol. 4, 13th August 1792.
I fee’d a man at Martinmass, hired
Wi’ airle-pennies three; bargain money
But a’ the faute I had to him, fault
He could na labour lea. could not, till grass land
Chorus
5 O can ye labour lea, young man,
O can ye labour lea;
Gae back the gate ye came again, go, way
Ye’se never scorn me. —
O clappin’s gude in Febarwar, caressing, February
10 An’ kissin’s sweet in May;
But what signifies a young man’s love,
An’t dinna last for ay. does not, ever
O can ye &c.
O kissin is the key o’ luve,
An’ clappin is the lock, caressing
15 An’ makin-of ’s the best thing,
That e’er a young Thing got. —
O can ye &c.
This is based on an old song Burns heard his own mother sing. As the original is unknown it is assumed Burns re-wrote the lyric. A bawdy version collected by Burns is in the Merry Muses.
The Deuk’s Dang o’er My Daddie
First printed in Johnson’s S.M.M., Vol. 4, 13th August 1792.
The bairns gat out wi’ an unco shout, child’s got, great
The deuk’s dang o’er my daddie, O, duck, beaten
The fien-ma-care, quo’ the feirrie auld wife, devil-may-, lusty old
He was but a paidlin body, O. — wading/messsing about
5 He paidles out, an’ he paidles in, paddles
An’ he paidles late and early, O;
This seven lang years I hae lien by his side, seven, have lain
An he is but a fusionless carlie, O. — useless old man
O haud your tongue, my feirrie auld wife, hold, lustful old
10 O haud your tongue, now Nansie, O:
I’ve seen the day, and sae hae ye, so have
Ye wad na been sae donsie, O. — would not, so saucy
I’ve seen the day ye butter’d my brose, porridge/sexual connotations
And cuddled me late and early, O;
15 But downa do’s come o’er me now, cannot perform, can’t do has
And, Oh, I find it sairly, O!
Although partly based on an old song this is signed in the S.M.M. indicating that it is substantially the work of Burns. This can be proven given the lines quoted by Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe from the old song (see Wallace (1896), p. 382). This tragi-comic marriage dialogue is based on the old man’s impotence.
She’s Fair and Fause
Tune: The Lads of Leith.
First printed in Johnson’s S.M.M., Vol. 4, 13th August 1792.
She’s fair and fause that causes my smart, false
I lo’ed her meikle and lang; greatly, long
She’s broken her vow, she’s broken my heart,
And I may e’en gae hang. — go
5 A coof cam in wi’ routh o’ gear, fool, plenty, money
And I hae tint my dearest dear; have lost
But Woman is but warld’s gear, world’s wealth
Sae let the bonie lass gang. — so, go
Whae’er ye be that Woman love, whoever
10 To this be never blind;
Nae ferlie ’tis tho’ fickle she prove, no wonder
A Woman has’t by kind:
O Woman lovely, Woman fair!
An angel form ’s faun to thy share; fallen
15 ’Twad been o’er meikle to gien thee mair, much, have given, more
I mean an angel mind. —
Editors prior to Kinsley have guessed this song was written about Alexander Cunningham’s mistress Anna, who jilted him (See Anna, Thy Charms). There is no evidence to prove the claim. The song appears to be a traditional one improved by Burns. The tone of stanzas 1 and 2 is quite different: the first has a clumsy rhyme repitition on ‘gear’, indicative of an amateur poet. The second stanza flows naturally and is almost certainly, in sentiment, language and diction, from Burns. Since the original song cannot be traced this conclusion is conjectural. It is surprising that Burns did not also improve the first stanza.
The Deil’s Awa wi’ th’ Exciseman
Tune: The Hemp-Dresser
First printed in Johnson’s S.M.M., Vol. 4, 13th August 1792.
The Deil cam fiddlin thro’ the town, devil, came
And danc’d awa wi’ th’ Exciseman;
And ilka wife cries, auld Mahoun, every, old
I wish you luck o’ the prize, man.
Chorus
5 The deil’s awa the deil’s awa away
The deil’s awa wi’ th’ Exciseman,
He’s danc’d awa he’s danc’d awa
He’s danc’d awa wi’ th’ Exciseman.
We’ll mak our maut and we’ll brew our drink, malt/whisky
10 We’ll laugh, sing, and rejoice, man;
And mony braw thanks to the meikle black deil, fine, great, devil
That danc’d awa wi’ th’ Exciseman.
The deil’s awa &c.
There’s threesome reels, there’s foursome reels,
There’s hornpipes and strathspeys, man,
15 But the ae best dance ere cam to the Land one, came
Was, the deil’s awa wi’ th’ Exciseman.
The deil’s awa &c.
Despite being unsigned in the S.M.M. the evidence in Letter 500 (to John Leven) indicates this is an original work by Burns. The notion Burns wrote the work extempore while waiting for reinforcements before boarding and taking the smuggling ship Rosamond on the Solway is probably myth. Burns may have thought of the song at that time but there is no definite proof of this folk tale.
Wandering Willie
Tune: Here Awa, There Awa
First printed in Thomson’s Select Collection, May 1793.
Here awa’, there awa’ wandering Willie, away
Here awa’, there awa’, haud awa’ hame; hold, home
Come to my bosom, my ae only deary, one, dearie
And tell me thou bring’st me my Willie the same.
5 Loud tho’ the Winter blew cauld on our parting, cold
‘Twas na the blast brought the tear in my e’e: not, eye
Welcome now Simmer, and welcome my Willie; summer
The Simmer to Nature, my Willie to me. summer
Rest, ye wild storms, in the cave o’ your slumbers,
10 How your dread howling a lover alarms!
Wauken, ye breezes! row gently, ye billows! waken
And waft my dear Laddie ance mair to my arms. once more
But oh, if he’s faithless, and minds na his Nannie, not
Flow still between us, thou wide roaring main:
15 May I never see it, may I never trow it, pledge
But, dying, believe that my Willie’s my ain! own
This is based on an old song called Thro’ the Lang Muir, which contains one stanza and a chorus, repeated with a variation (See Scott Douglas, Vol. 1, p. 377). The original is a competent Scots song – an additional stanza was added to the version printed in the S.M.M. in 1787 – but the song is significantly improved by Burns. It was written in early 1792, but redrafted for Thomson in March 1793 (Letter 543).
Braw Lads o’ Galla Water
First printed i
n Thomson’s Select Collection, May 1793.
Braw, braw lads on Yarrow braes, fine, hill sides
Rove amang the blooming heather; among
But Yarrow braes, nor Ettrick shaws, woods
Can match the lads o’ Galla water.
5 But there is ane, a secret ane, one, one
Aboon them a’ I loe him better; above, love
And I’ll be his, and he’ll be mine,
The bonie lad o’ Galla water.
Altho’ his daddie was nae laird, no
10 And tho’ I hae na meikle tocher, have no big dowry
Yet, rich in kindest, truest love,
We’ll tent our flocks by Galla water. tend
It ne’er was wealth, it ne’er was wealth,
That coft contentment, peace, or pleasure; bought
15 The bands and bliss o’ mutual love,
O that’s the chiefest warld’s treasure! world’s
The original of this song is found in Herd’s collection, although a version appears in S.M.M. in 1788, with slight variations in text, which might have been minor improvements by Burns. However, the above is merely modified on the old song and is significantly changed to make a superior song.
Auld Rob Morris
First printed in Thomson’s Select Collection, May 1793.
There’s Auld Rob Morris that wons in yon glen, dwells
He’s the king o’ gude fellows and wale of auld men; good, pick
He has gowd in his coffers, he has owsen and kine, gold, oxen, cattle
And ae bonie lassie, his dawtie and mine. one, darling
5 She’s fresh as the morning, the fairest in May,
She’s sweet as the e’enin amang the new hay; among
As blythe and as artless as the lambs on the lea, pasture
And dear to my heart as the light to my e’e. eye
But oh, she’s an Heiress, auld Robin’s a laird; old
10 And my daddie has nocht but a cot-house and yard: nothing, cottage
A wooer like me maunna hope to come speed; must not, succeed
The wounds I must hide that will soon be my dead. death
The day comes to me, but delight brings me nane; none
The night comes to me, but my rest it is gane: gone
15 I wander my lane like a night-troubled ghaist, alone, ghost
And I sigh as my heart it wad burst in my breast. would
O had she but been of a lower degree,
I then might hae hop’d she wad smil’d upon me! would have
O, how past descriving had then been my bliss, describing
20 As now my distraction no words can express!
This is based on a traditional dialogue song between a mother and daughter printed in the Tea-Table Miscellany, but only a couplet or so of the original are kept by Burns. He struggled with the pedantic Thomson to maintain an air of rustic simplicity in the song. He told Thomson, ‘There is a naivete, a pastoral simplicity, in a slight intermixture of Scots words and phraseology, which is more in unison … than any English verses whatever. – For instance, in my Auld Rob Morris, you propose instead of the word ‘descriving’, to substitute the phrase ‘all telling’, which would spoil the rusticity, the pastoral, of the stanza’ (Letter 535). The theme once again is the juxtaposition of love and wealth in a feudal social order. The rhyme at lines 15–16 of ‘ghaist’ and ‘breast’ relies on the west of Scotland Scots pronunciation of breast as braist. A version of this song appears in the Scots Magazine, July 1797, p. 479.
Open the Door to Me, Oh
Tune: Open the Door Softly
First printed in Thomson’s Select Collection, May 1793.
Oh, open the door, some pity to shew,
If love it may na be, Oh; not
Tho’ thou hast been false, I’ll ever prove true,
Oh, open the door to me, Oh.
5 Cauld is the blast upon my pale cheek, cold
But caulder thy love for me, Oh: colder
The frost, that freezes the life at my heart,
Is nought to my pains frae thee, Oh. from
The wan moon sets behind the white wave,
10 And Time is setting with me, Oh:
False friends, false love, farewell! for mair
I’ll ne’er trouble them, nor thee, Oh.
She has open’d the door, she has open’d it wide,
She sees his pale corse on the plain, Oh: corpse
15 My true love! she cried, and sank down by his side,
Never to rise again, Oh.
The old song Burns has used here is Scottish, set to an Irish air. Thomson printed it with the headnote ‘Altered by Robt. Burns’ and placed rewritten lyrics for the same song by Dr John Wolcot (Peter Pindar) suggesting that Thomson thought Pindar’s more English version as good as Burns’s, which it is not. It was sent to Thomson in April 1793.
The Sodger’s Return
Tune: The Mill, Mill O
First printed in Thomson’s Select Collection, May 1793.
When wild War’s deadly blast was blawn, blowing
And gentle Peace returning,
Wi’ mony a sweet babe fatherless, many
And mony a widow mourning: many
5 I left the lines, and tented field,
Where lang I’d been a lodger, long
My humble knapsack a’ my wealth,
A poor and honest sodger. soldier
A leal, light heart was in my breast, loyal
10 My hand unstain’d wi’ plunder;
And for fair Scotia, hame again home
I cheery on did wander.
I thought upon the banks o’ Coil,
I thought upon my Nancy,
15 And ay I mind’t the witching smile always, remembered
That caught my youthful fancy.
At length I reach’d the bonny glen,
Where early life I sported;
I pass’d the mill and trysting thorn, meeting place
20 Where Nancy aft I courted: often
Wha spied I but my ain dear maid, who, own
Down by her mother’s dwelling!
And turn’d me round to hide the flood
That in my een was swelling. eyes
25 Wi’ alter’d voice, quoth I, sweet lass,
Sweet as yon hawthorn’s blossom,
O! happy, happy may he be,
That’s dearest to thy bosom:
My purse is light, I’ve far to gang, go
30 And fain wad be thy lodger; would
I’ve serv’d my king and country lang, long
Take pity on a sodger! soldier
Sae wistfully she gaz’d on me, so
And lovelier was than ever;
35 Quo’ she, a sodger ance I lo’ed, loved
Forget him shall I never:
Our humble cot, and hamely fare, homely food
Ye freely shall partake it,
That gallant badge, the dear cockade, Jacobite white rose
40 Ye’re welcome for the sake o’t.
She gaz’d — she redden’d like a rose —
Syne pale like ony lily, then, any
She sank within my arms, and cried,
Art thou my ain dear Willie? — own
45 By Him who made yon sun and sky,
By whom true love’s regarded,
I am the man — and thus may still
True lovers be rewarded!
The wars are o’er, and I’m come hame, home
50 And find thee still true-hearted;
Tho’ poor in gear, we’re rich in love,
And mair, — we’se ne’er be parted! more
Quo’ she, my grandsire left me gowd, gold
A mailen plenish’d fairly; piece of arable land
55 And come, my faithfu’ sodger lad, soldier
Thou ’rt welcome to it dearly!
For gold the merchant ploughs the main, sea
The farmer ploughs the manor;
But glory is the sodger’s prize, soldier
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60 The sodger’s wealth is honour;
The brave poor sodger ne’er despise,
Nor count him as a stranger;
Remember, he’s his country’s stay
In day and hour of danger.
This was the final song Burns sent to Thomson for inclusion in his Volume going to press in April for May 1793. Thomson’s arrogance as an editor of song lyrics compelled him to change the lines ‘Wi’ monie a sweet babe fatherless /And monie a widow mourning’ to the dull ‘And eyes again with pleasure beam’d, /That had been blear’d wi’ mourning’. According to Thomson, Burns’s original lines did not suit the music. Characteristically this alleged aesthetic improvement was, in reality, an act of political censorship. Thomson is smoothing over the patently obvious anti-war connotations of the song, resonant at that time since Britain was currently at war with France (see notes to Logan Braes for a similar censorial act). It is probably due to the editorial changes made by Thomson that Burns printed his song in The Glasgow Courier in September 1793, in order to see a corrected version in print. The theme of the poet’s song is found in one of Ramsay’s works, Beneath a Green Shade I Fand a Fair Maid, in the Orpheus Caledonius, 1733, where the soldier returns from Flanders to find his true love. Given that the word ‘sodger’ is used through the song – soldier would not rhyme with ‘lodger’ – it seems incongruous to title the song The Soldier’s Return. The title given here is therefore the Scots The Sodger’s Return.
