My Nanie’s awa (Song)
Tune— “There’ll never be peace till Jamie comes hame.”
NOW in her green mantle blythe Nature arrays,
And listens the lambkins that bleat o’er her braes;
While birds warble welcomes in ilka green shaw,
But to me it’s delightless — my Nanie’s awa.
The snawdrap and primrose our woodlands adorn, 5
And violetes bathe in the weet o’ the morn;
They pain my sad bosom, sae sweetly they blaw,
They mind me o’ Nanie — and Nanie’s awa.
Thou lav’rock that springs frae the dews of the lawn,
The shepherd to warn o’ the grey-breaking dawn, 10
And thou mellow mavis that hails the night-fa’,
Give over for pity — my Nanie’s awa.
Come Autumn, sae pensive, in yellow and grey,
And soothe me wi’ tidings o’ Nature’s decay:
The dark, dreary Winter, and wild-driving snaw 15
Alane can delight me — now Nanie’s awa.
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497.
The Tear-drop— “Wae is my heart” (Song)
WAE is my heart, and the tear’s in my e’e;
Lang, lang has Joy been a stranger to me:
Forsaken and friendless, my burden I bear,
And the sweet voice o’ Pity ne’er sounds in my ear.
Love thou hast pleasures, and deep hae I luv’d; 5
Love, thou hast sorrows, and sair hae I pruv’d;
But this bruisèd heart that now bleeds in my breast,
I can feel, by its throbbings, will soon be at rest.
Oh, if I were — where happy I hae been —
Down by yon stream, and yon bonie castle-green; 10
For there he is wand’ring and musing on me,
Wha wad soon dry the tear-drop that clings to my e’e.
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498.
For the sake o’ Somebody (Song)
MY heart is sair — I dare na tell,
My heart is sair for Somebody;
I could wake a winter night
For the sake o’ Somebody.
O-hon! for Somebody! 5
O-hey! for Somebody!
I could range the world around,
For the sake o’ Somebody.
Ye Powers that smile on virtuous love,
O, sweetly smile on Somebody! 10
Frae ilka danger keep him free,
And send me safe my Somebody!
O-hon! for Somebody!
O-hey! for Somebody!
I wad do — what wad I not? 15
For the sake o’ Somebody.
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1795
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499.
A Man’s a Man for a’ that (Song)
Tune— “For a’ that.”
IS there for honest Poverty
That hings his head, an’ a’ that;
The coward slave-we pass him by,
We dare be poor for a’ that!
For a’ that, an’ a’ that. 5
Our toils obscure an’ a’ that,
The rank is but the guinea’s stamp,
The Man’s the gowd for a’ that.
What though on hamely fare we dine,
Wear hoddin grey, an’ a that; 10
Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine;
A Man’s a Man for a’ that:
For a’ that, and a’ that,
Their tinsel show, an’ a’ that;
The honest man, tho’ e’er sae poor, 15
Is king o’ men for a’ that.
Ye see yon birkie, ca’d a lord,
Wha struts, an’ stares, an’ a’ that;
Tho’ hundreds worship at his word,
He’s but a coof for a’ that: 20
For a’ that, an’ a’ that,
His ribband, star, an’ a’ that:
The man o’ independent mind
He looks an’ laughs at a’ that.
A prince can mak a belted knight, 25
A marquis, duke, an’ a’ that;
But an honest man’s abon his might,
Gude faith, he maunna fa’ that!
For a’ that, an’ a’ that,
Their dignities an’ a’ that; 30
The pith o’ sense, an’ pride o’ worth,
Are higher rank than a’ that.
Then let us pray that come it may,
(As come it will for a’ that,)
That Sense and Worth, o’er a’ the earth, 35
Shall bear the gree, an’ a’ that.
For a’ that, an’ a’ that,
It’s coming yet for a’ that,
That Man to Man, the world o’er,
Shall brothers be for a’ that. 40
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500.
Craigieburn Wood (Second Version) (Song)
SWEET fa’s the eve on Craigieburn,
And blythe awakes the morrow;
But a’ the pride o’ Spring’s return
Can yield me nocht but sorrow.
I see the flowers and spreading trees, 5
I hear the wild birds singing;
But what a weary wight can please,
And Care his bosom wringing!
Fain, fain would I my griefs impart,
Yet dare na for your anger; 10
But secret love will break my heart,
If I conceal it langer.
If thou refuse to pity me,
If thou shalt love another,
When yon green leaves fade frae the tree, 15
Around my grave they’ll wither.
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501.
The Solemn League and Covenant
Versicles of 1795
THE SOLEMN League and Covenant
Now brings a smile, now brings a tear;
But sacred Freedom, too, was theirs:
If thou’rt a slave, indulge thy sneer.
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502.
Lines to John Syme, Esq., with a dozen of Porter
Lines sent with a Present of a Dozen of Porter.
O HAD the malt thy strength of mind,
Or hops the flavour of thy wit,
‘Twere drink for first of human kind,
A gift that e’en for Syme were fit.
JERUSALEM TAVERN, DUMFRIES.
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503.
inscription on Mr. Syme’s crystal goblet
THERE’S Death in the cup, so beware!
Nay, more — there is danger in touching;
But who can avoid the fell snare,
The man and his wine’s so bewitching!
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504.
Apology to Mr. Syme for not dining with him
NO more of your guests, be they titled or not,
And cookery the first in the nation;
Who is proof to thy personal converse and wit,
Is proof to all other temptation.
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505.
Epitaph for Mr. Gabriel Richardson, Brewer
HERE Brewer Gabriel’s fire’s extinct,
And empty all his barrels:
He’s blest — if, as he brew’d, he drink,
In upright, honest morals.
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506.
Epigram on Mr. James Gracie
GRACIE, thou art a man of worth,
O be thou Dean for ever!
May he be d — d to hell henceforth,
Who fauts thy weight or measure!
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507.
Bonie Peg-a-Ramsay (Song)
CAULD is the e’enin blast,
O’ Boreas o’er the pool,
An’ dawin’ it is dreary,
When birks are bare at Yule.
Cauld blaws the e’enin blast, 5
When bitter bites the frost,
And, in the mirk and dreary drift,
The hills and glens are lost:
Ne’er sae murky blew the night
That drifted o’er the hill, 10
But bonie Peg-a-Ramsay
Gat grist to her mill.
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508.
Inscription at Friars’ Carse Hermitage
To the Memory of Robert Riddell.
TO Riddell, much lamented man,
This ivied cot was dear;
Wandr’er, dost value matchless worth?
This ivied cot revere.
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509.
There was a Bonie Lass (Fragment of a Song)
THERE was a bonie lass, and a bonie, bonie lass,
And she lo’ed her bonie laddie dear;
Till War’s loud alarms tore her laddie frae her arms,
Wi’ mony a sigh and tear.
Over sea, over shore, where the cannons loudly roar, 5
He still was a stranger to fear;
And nocht could him quail, or his bosom assail,
But the bonie lass he lo’ed sae dear.
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510.
Wee Willie Gray (Fragment of a Song)
Tune— “Wee Totum Fogg.”
WEE Willie Gray, and his leather wallet,
Peel a willow wand to be him boots and jacket;
The rose upon the breir will be him trews an’ doublet,
The rose upon the breir will be him trews an’ doublet,
Wee Willie Gray, and his leather wallet, 5
Twice a lily-flower will be him sark and cravat;
Feathers of a flee wad feather up his bonnet,
Feathers of a flee wad feather up his bonnet.
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511.
O aye my wife she dang me (Song)
Chorus — O aye my wife she dang me,
An’ aft my wife she bang’d me,
If ye gie a woman a’ her will,
Gude faith! she’ll soon o’er-gang ye.
ON peace an’ rest my mind was bent, 5
And, fool I was! I married;
But never honest man’s intent
Sane cursedly miscarried.
O aye my wife, &c.
Some sairie comfort at the last, 10
When a’ thir days are done, man,
My pains o’ hell on earth is past,
I’m sure o’ bliss aboon, man,
O aye my wife, &c.
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512.
Guid ale keeps the heart aboon (Song)
Chorus — O gude ale comes and gude ale goes;
Gude ale gars me sell my hose,
Sell my hose, and pawn my shoon —
Gude ale keeps my heart aboon!
I HAD sax owsen in a pleugh, 5
And they drew a’ weel eneugh:
I sell’d them a’ just ane by ane —
Gude ale keeps the heart aboon!
O gude ale comes, &c.
Gude ale hauds me bare and busy, 10
Gars me moop wi’ the servant hizzie,
Stand i’ the stool when I hae done —
Gude ale keeps the heart aboon!
O gude ale comes, &c.
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513.
Steer her up and haud her gaun (Song)
O STEER her up, an’ haud her gaun,
Her mither’s at the mill, jo;
An’ gin she winna tak a man,
E’en let her tak her will, jo.
First shore her wi’ a gentle kiss, 5
And ca’ anither gill, jo;
An’ gin she tak the thing amiss,
E’en let her flyte her fill, jo.
O steer her up, an’ be na blate,
An’ gin she tak it ill, jo, 10
Then leave the lassie till her fate,
And time nae langer spill, jo:
Ne’er break your heart for ae rebute,
But think upon it still, jo:
That gin the lassie winna do’t, 15
Ye’ll find anither will, jo.
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514.
The Lass o’ Ecclefechan (Song)
Tune— “Jack o’ Latin.”
GAT ye me, O gat ye me,
O gat ye me wi’ naething?
Rock an reel, and spinning wheel,
A mickle quarter basin:
Bye attour my Gutcher has 5
A heich house and a laich ane,
A’ forbye my bonie sel,
The toss o’ Ecclefechan.
O haud your tongue now, Lucky Lang,
O haud your tongue and jauner 10
I held the gate till you I met,
Syne I began to wander:
I tint my whistle and my sang,
I tint my peace and pleasure;
But your green graff, now Lucky Lang, 15
Wad airt me to my treasure.
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515.
O let me in this ae night (Song)
O LASSIE, are ye sleepin yet,
Or are ye waukin, I wad wit?
For Love has bound me hand an’ fit,
And I would fain be in, jo.
Chorus. — O let me in this ae night, 5
This ae, ae, ae night;
O let me in this ae night,
I’ll no come back again, jo!
O hear’st thou not the wind an’ weet?
Nae star blinks thro’ the driving sleet; 10
Tak pity on my weary feet,
And shield me frae the rain, jo.
O let me in, &c.
The bitter blast that round me blaws,
Unheeded howls, unheeded fa’s; 15
The cauldness o’ thy heart’s the cause
Of a’ my care and pine, jo.
O let me in, &c.
HER ANSWER
O tell na me o’ wind an’ rain,
Upbraid na me wi’ cauld disdain, 20
Gae back the gate ye cam again,
I winna let ye in, jo.
Chorus. — I tell you now this ae night,
This ae, ae, ae night;
And ance for a’ this ae night, 25
I winna let ye in, jo.
The snellest blast, at mirkest hours,
That round the pathless wand’rer pours
Is nocht to what poor she endures,
That’s trusted faithless man, jo. 30
I tell you now, &c.
The sweetest flower that deck’d the mead,
Now trodden like the vilest weed —
Let simple maid the lesson read
The weird may be her ain, jo. 35
I tell you now, &c.
The bird that charm’d his summer day,
Is now the cruel Fowler’s prey;
Let witless, trusting, Woman say
How aft her fate’s the same, jo! 40
I tell you now, &c.
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516.
I’ll aye ca’ in by yon town (Song)
Air— “I’ll gang nae mair to yon toun.”
Chorus — I’ll aye ca’ in by yon town,
And by yon garden-green again;
I’ll aye ca’ in by yon town,
And see my bonie Jean again.
THERE’S nane sall ken, there’s nane can guess 5
What brings me back the gate again,
But she, my fairest faithfu’ lass,
And stownlins we sall meet again.
I’ll aye ca’ in, &c.
She’ll wander by the aiken tree, 10
When trystin time draws near again;
And when her lovely form I see,
O haith! she’s doubly dear again.
I’ll aye ca’ in, &c.
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517.
O wat ye wha’s in yon town (Song)
Tune— “I’ll gang nae mair to yon toun.”
Chorus — O wat ye wha’s in yon town,
Ye see the e’enin sun upon,
The dearest maid’s in yon town,
That e’ening sun is shining on.
NOW haply down yon gay green shaw, 5
She wanders by yon spreading tree;
How blest ye flowers that round her blaw,
Ye catch the glances o’ her e’e!
O wat ye wha’s, &c.
How blest ye birds that round her sing, 10
And welcome in the blooming year;
And doubly welcome be the Spring,
The season to my Jeanie dear.
O wat ye wha’s, &c.
The sun blinks blythe on yon town, 15
Among the broomy braes sae green;
But my delight in yon town,
And dearest pleasure, is my Jean.
O wat ye wha’s, &c.
Without my Fair, not a’ the charms 20
O’ Paradise could yield me joy;
But give me Jeanie in my arms
And welcome Lapland’s dreary sky!
O wat ye wha’s, &c.
My cave wad be a lover’s bower, 25
Tho’ raging Winter rent the air;
And she a lovely little flower,
That I wad tent and shelter there.
O wat ye wha’s, &c.
O sweet is she in yon town, 30
The sinkin, sun’s gane down upon;
A fairer than’s in yon town,
His setting beam ne’er shone upon.
O wat ye wha’s, &c.
If angry Fate is sworn my foe, 35
And suff’ring I am doom’d to bear;
I careless quit aught else below,
But spare, O spare me Jeanie dear.
O wat ye wha’s, &c.
For while life’s dearest blood is warm, 40
Ae thought frae her shall ne’er depart,
And she, as fairest is her form,
She has the truest, kindest heart.
O wat ye wha’s, &c.
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518.
Ballad on Mr. Heron’s Election — No. 1
Ballads on Mr. Heron’s Election, 1795.
WHOM will you send to London town,
To Parliament and a’ that?
Or wha in a’ the country round
The best deserves to fa’ that?
For a’ that, and a’ that, 5
Thro’ Galloway and a’ that,
Where is the Laird or belted Knight
The best deserves to fa’ that?
Wha sees Kerroughtree’s open yett,
(And wha is’t never saw that?) 10
Wha ever wi’ Kerroughtree met,
And has a doubt of a’ that?
For a’ that, and a’ that,
Here’s Heron yet for a’ that!
The independent patriot, 15
The honest man, and a’ that.
Tho’ wit and worth, in either sex,
Saint Mary’s Isle can shaw that,
Wi’ Dukes and Lords let Selkirk mix,
And weel does Selkirk fa’ that. 20
For a’ that, and a’ that,
Here’s Heron yet for a’ that!
The independent commoner
Shall be the man for a’ that.
But why should we to Nobles jouk, 25
And is’t against the law, that?
For why, a Lord may be a gowk,
Wi’ ribband, star and a’ that,
For a’ that, and a’ that,
Here’s Heron yet for a’ that! 30
A Lord may be a lousy loun,
Wi’ ribband, star and a’ that.
A beardless boy comes o’er the hills,
Wi’ uncle’s purse and a’ that;
But we’ll hae ane frae mang oursels, 35
A man we ken, and a’ that.
For a’ that, and a’ that,
Here’s Heron yet for a’ that!
For we’re not to be bought and sold,
Like naigs, and nowt, and a’ that. 40
Then let us drink — The Stewartry,
Kerroughtree’s laird, and a’ that,
Our representative to be,
For weel he’s worthy a’ that.
For a’ that, and a’ that, 45
Here’s Heron yet for a’ that!
A House of Commons such as he,
They wad be blest that saw that.
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519.
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