She snatch'd the candle in her hand,And frae my chamber went wi'speed;But I call'd her quickly back again,To lay some mair below my head:
A cod she laid below my head,And served me with due respect,And,to salute her wi'a kiss,I put my arms about her neck.
The bonie lass,&c.
"Haud aff your hands,young man!"she said,"And dinna sae uncivil be;Gif ye hae ony luve for me,O wrang na my virginitie."Her hair was like the links o'gowd,Her teeth were like the ivorie,Her cheeks like lilies dipt in wine,The lass that made the bed to me:
The bonie lass,&c.
Her bosom was the driven snaw,Twa drifted heaps sae fair to see;Her limbs the polish'd marble stane,The lass that made the bed to me.
I kiss'd her o'er and o'er again,And aye she wist na what to say:
I laid her 'tween me and the wa';
The lassie thocht na lang till day.
The bonie lass,&c.
Upon the morrow when we raise,I thank'd her for her courtesie;But aye she blush'd and aye she sigh'd,And said,"Alas,ye've ruin'd me."I claps'd her waist,and kiss'd her syne,While the tear stood twinkling in her e'e;I said,my lassie,dinna cry.
For ye aye shall make the bed to me.
The bonie lass,&c.
She took her mither's holland sheets,An'made them a'in sarks to me;Blythe and merry may she be,The lass that made the bed to me.
Chorus-The bonie lass made the bed to me,The braw lass made the bed to me.
I'll ne'er forget till the day I die,The lass that made the bed to me.
Had I The Wyte?She Bade Me Had I the wyte,had I the wyte,Had I the wyte?she bade me;She watch'd me by the hie-gate side,And up the loan she shaw'd me.
And when I wadna venture in,A coward loon she ca'd me:
Had Kirk an'State been in the gate,I'd lighted when she bade me.
Sae craftilie she took me ben,And bade me mak nae clatter;"For our ramgunshoch,glum gudeman Is o'er ayont the water."Whae'er shall say I wanted grace,When I did kiss and dawte her,Let him be planted in my place,Syne say,I was the fautor.
Could I for shame,could I for shame,Could I for shame refus'd her;And wadna manhood been to blame,Had I unkindly used her!
He claw'd her wi'the ripplin-kame,And blae and bluidy bruis'd her;When sic a husband was frae hame,What wife but wad excus'd her!
I dighted aye her e'en sae blue,An'bann'd the cruel randy,And weel I wat,her willin'mou Was sweet as sugar-candie.
At gloamin-shot,it was I wot,I lighted on the Monday;But I cam thro'the Tyseday's dew,To wanton Willie's brandy.
Does Haughty Gaul Invasion Threat?
tune-"Push about the Jorum."
Does haughty Gaul invasion threat?
Then let the louns beware,Sir;
There's wooden walls upon our seas,And volunteers on shore,Sir:
The Nith shall run to Corsincon,And Criffel sink in Solway,Ere we permit a Foreign Foe On British ground to rally!
We'll ne'er permit a Foreign Foe On British ground to rally!
O let us not,like snarling curs,In wrangling be divided,Till,slap!come in an unco loun,And wi'a rung decide it!
Be Britain still to Britain true,Amang ourselves united;For never but by British hands Maun British wrangs be righted!
No!never but by British hands Shall British wrangs be righted!
The Kettle o'the Kirk and State,Perhaps a clout may fail in't;But deil a foreign tinkler loun Shall ever ca'a nail in't.
Our father's blude the Kettle bought,And wha wad dare to spoil it;By Heav'ns!the sacrilegious dog Shall fuel be to boil it!
By Heav'ns!the sacrilegious dog Shall fuel be to boil it!
The wretch that would a tyrant own,And the wretch,his true-born brother,Who would set the Mob aboon the Throne,May they be damn'd together!
Who will not sing "God save the King,"
Shall hang as high's the steeple;
But while we sing "God save the King,"
We'll ne'er forget The People!
But while we sing "God save the King,"
We'll ne'er forget The People!
Address To The Woodlark tune-"Loch Erroch Side."O stay,sweet warbling woodlark,stay,Nor quit for me the trembling spray,A hapless lover courts thy lay,Thy soothing,fond complaining.
Again,again that tender part,That I may catch thy melting art;For surely that wad touch her heart Wha kills me wi'disdaining.
Say,was thy little mate unkind,And heard thee as the careless wind?
Oh,nocht but love and sorrow join'd,Sic notes o'woe could wauken!
Thou tells o'never-ending care;
O'speechless grief,and dark despair:
For pity's sake,sweet bird,nae mair!
Or my poor heart is broken.
Song.-On Chloris Being Ill tune-"Aye wauken O."Chorus-Long,long the night,Heavy comes the morrow While my soul's delight Is on her bed of sorrow.
Can I cease to care?
Can I cease to languish,While my darling Fair Is on the couch of anguish?
Long,long,&c.
Ev'ry hope is fled,Ev'ry fear is terror,Slumber ev'n I dread,Ev'ry dream is horror.
Long,long,&c.
Hear me,Powers Divine!
Oh,in pity,hear me!
Take aught else of mine,But my Chloris spare me!
Long,long,&c.
How Cruel Are The Parents Altered from an old English song.
tune-"John Anderson,my jo."
How cruel are the parents Who riches only prize,And to the wealthy booby Poor Woman sacrifice!
Meanwhile,the hapless Daughter Has but a choice of strife;To shun a tyrant Father's hate-
Become a wretched Wife.
The ravening hawk pursuing,The trembling dove thus flies,To shun impelling ruin,Awhile her pinions tries;Till,of escape despairing,No shelter or retreat,She trusts the ruthless Falconer,And drops beneath his feet.
Mark Yonder Pomp Of Costly Fashion Air-"Deil tak the wars."Mark yonder pomp of costly fashion Round the wealthy,titled bride:
But when compar'd with real passion,Poor is all that princely pride.
Mark yonder,&c.(four lines repeated).
What are the showy treasures,What are the noisy pleasures?
The gay,gaudy glare of vanity and art:
The polish'd jewels'blaze May draw the wond'ring gaze;And courtly grandeur bright The fancy may delight,But never,never can come near the heart.
But did you see my dearest Chloris,In simplicity's array;Lovely as yonder sweet opening flower is,Shrinking from the gaze of day,But did you see,&c.
O then,the heart alarming,And all resistless charming,In Love's delightful fetters she chains the willing soul!
Ambition would disown The world's imperial crown,Ev'n Avarice would deny,His worshipp'd deity,And feel thro'every vein Love's raptures roll.
'Twas Na Her Bonie Blue E'e tune-"Laddie,lie near me."'Twas na her bonie blue e'e was my ruin,Fair tho'she be,that was ne'er my undoin';'Twas the dear smile when nae body did mind us,'Twas the bewitching,sweet,stown glance o'kindness:
'Twas the bewitching,sweet,stown glance o'kindness.
Sair do I fear that to hope is denied me,Sair do I fear that despair maun abide me,But tho'fell fortune should fate us to sever,Queen shall she be in my bosom for ever:
Queen shall she be in my bosom for ever.
Chloris,I'm thine wi'a passion sincerest,And thou hast plighted me love o'the dearest!
And thou'rt the angel that never can alter,Sooner the sun in his motion would falter:
Sooner the sun in his motion would falter.
Their Groves O'Sweet Myrtle tune-"Humours of Glen."Their groves o'sweet myrtle let Foreign Lands reckon,Where bright-beaming summers exalt the perfume;Far dearer to me yon lone glen o'green breckan,Wi'the burn stealing under the lang,yellow broom.
Far dearer to me are yon humble broom bowers Where the blue-bell and gowan lurk,lowly,unseen;For there,lightly tripping,among the wild flowers,A-list'ning the linnet,aft wanders my Jean.
Tho'rich is the breeze in their gay,sunny valleys,And cauld Caledonia's blast on the wave;Their sweet-scented woodlands that skirt the proud palace,What are they?-the haunt of the Tyrant and Slave.
The Slave's spicy forests,and gold-bubbling fountains,The brave Caledonian views wi'disdain;He wanders as free as the winds of his mountains,Save Love's willing fetters-the chains of his Jean.
Forlorn,My Love,No Comfort Near Air-"Let me in this ae night."Forlorn,my Love,no comfort near,Far,far from thee,I wander here;Far,far from thee,the fate severe,At which I most repine,Love.
Chorus-O wert thou,Love,but near me!
But near,near,near me,How kindly thou wouldst cheer me,And mingle sighs with mine,Love.
Around me scowls a wintry sky,Blasting each bud of hope and joy;And shelter,shade,nor home have I;
Save in these arms of thine,Love.
O wert thou,&c.
Cold,alter'd friendship's cruel part,To poison Fortune's ruthless dart-Let me not break thy faithful heart,And say that fate is mine,Love.
O wert thou,&c.
But,dreary tho'the moments fleet,O let me think we yet shall meet;That only ray of solace sweet,Can on thy Chloris shine,Love!
O wert thou,&c.
Fragment,-Why,Why Tell The Lover tune-"Caledonian Hunt's delight."Why,why tell thy lover Bliss he never must enjoy"?
Why,why undeceive him,And give all his hopes the lie?
O why,while fancy,raptur'd slumbers,Chloris,Chloris all the theme,Why,why would'st thou,cruel-Wake thy lover from his dream?
The Braw Wooer tune-"The Lothian Lassie."Last May,a braw wooer cam doun the lang glen,And sair wi'his love he did deave me;I said,there was naething I hated like men-The deuce gae wi'm,to believe me,believe me;The deuce gae wi'm to believe me.
He spak o'the darts in my bonie black e'en,And vow'd for my love he was diein,I said,he might die when he liked for Jean-The Lord forgie me for liein,for liein;
The Lord forgie me for liein!
A weel-stocked mailen,himsel'for the laird,And marriage aff-hand,were his proffers;I never loot on that I kenn'd it,or car'd;But thought I might hae waur offers,waur offers;But thought I might hae waur offers.
But what wad ye think?-in a fortnight or less-The deil tak his taste to gae near her!
He up the Gate-slack to my black cousin,Bess-Guess ye how,the jad!I could bear her,could bear her;Guess ye how,the jad!I could bear her.
But a'the niest week,as I petted wi'care,I gaed to the tryst o'Dalgarnock;But wha but my fine fickle wooer was there,I glowr'd as I'd seen a warlock,a warlock,I glowr'd as I'd seen a warlock.
But owre my left shouther I gae him a blink,Lest neibours might say I was saucy;My wooer he caper'd as he'd been in drink,And vow'd I was his dear lassie,dear lassie,And vow'd I was his dear lassie.
I spier'd for my cousin fu'couthy and sweet,Gin she had recover'd her hearin',And how her new shoon fit her auld schachl't feet,But heavens!how he fell a swearin,a swearin,But heavens!how he fell a swearin.
He begged,for gudesake,I wad be his wife,Or else I wad kill him wi'sorrow;So e'en to preserve the poor body in life,I think I maun wed him to-morrow,to-morrow;I think I maun wed him to-morrow.
This Is No My Ain Lassie tune-"This is no my house."Chorus-This is no my ain lassie,Fair tho,the lassie be;Weel ken I my ain lassie,Kind love is in her e're.
I see a form,I see a face,Ye weel may wi'the fairest place;It wants,to me,the witching grace,The kind love that's in her e'e.
This is no my ain,&c.
She's bonie,blooming,straight,and tall,And lang has had my heart in thrall;And aye it charms my very saul,The kind love that's in her e'e.
This is no my ain,&c.
A thief sae pawkie is my Jean,To steal a blink,by a'unseen;But gleg as light are lover's een,When kind love is in her e'e.
This is no my ain,&c.
It may escape the courtly sparks,It may escape the learned clerks;But well the watching lover marks The kind love that's in her eye.
This is no my ain,&c.
O Bonie Was Yon Rosy Brier O bonie was yon rosy brier,That blooms sae far frae haunt o'man;And bonie she,and ah,how dear!
It shaded frae the e'enin sun.
Yon rosebuds in the morning dew,How pure,amang the leaves sae green;But purer was the lover's vow They witness'd in their shade yestreen.
All in its rude and prickly bower,That crimson rose,how sweet and fair;But love is far a sweeter flower,Amid life's thorny path o'care.
The pathless,wild and wimpling burn,Wi'Chloris in my arms,be mine;And I the warld nor wish nor scorn,Its joys and griefs alike resign.
Song Inscribed To Alexander Cunningham Now spring has clad the grove in green,And strew'd the lea wi'flowers;The furrow'd,waving corn is seen Rejoice in fostering showers.
While ilka thing in nature join Their sorrows to forego,O why thus all alone are mine The weary steps o'woe!
The trout in yonder wimpling burn That glides,a silver dart,And,safe beneath the shady thorn,Defies the angler's art-My life was ance that careless stream,That wanton trout was I;But Love,wi'unrelenting beam,Has scorch'd my fountains dry.
That little floweret's peaceful lot,In yonder cliff that grows,Which,save the linnet's flight,I wot,Nae ruder visit knows,Was mine,till Love has o'er me past,And blighted a'my bloom;And now,beneath the withering blast,My youth and joy consume.
The waken'd lav'rock warbling springs,And climbs the early sky,Winnowing blythe his dewy wings In morning's rosy eye;As little reck'd I sorrow's power,Until the flowery snare O'witching Love,in luckless hour,Made me the thrall o'care.
O had my fate been Greenland snows,Or Afric's burning zone,Wi'man and nature leagued my foes,So Peggy ne'er I'd known!
The wretch whose doom is "Hope nae mair"
What tongue his woes can tell;
Within whase bosom,save Despair,Nae kinder spirits dwell.
O That's The Lassie O'My Heart tune-"Morag."O wat ye wha that lo'es me And has my heart a-keeping?
O sweet is she that lo'es me,As dews o'summer weeping,In tears the rosebuds steeping!
Chorus-O that's the lassie o'my heart,My lassie ever dearer;O she's the queen o'womankind,And ne'er a ane to peer her.
If thou shalt meet a lassie,In grace and beauty charming,That e'en thy chosen lassie,Erewhile thy breast sae warming,Had ne'er sic powers alarming;O that's the lassie,&c.
If thou hadst heard her talking,And thy attention's plighted,That ilka body talking,But her,by thee is slighted,And thou art all delighted;O that's the lassie,&c.
If thou hast met this Fair One,When frae her thou hast parted,If every other Fair One But her,thou hast deserted,And thou art broken-hearted,O that's the lassie o'my heart,My lassie ever dearer;O that's the queen o'womankind,And ne'er a ane to peer her.
Inscription Written on the blank leaf of a copy of the last edition of my poems,presented to the Lady whom,in so many fictitious reveries of passion,but with the most ardent sentiments of real friendship,I have so often sung under the name of-"Chloris."^1'Tis Friendship's pledge,my young,fair Friend,Nor thou the gift refuse,Nor with unwilling ear attend The moralising Muse.
Since thou,in all thy youth and charms,Must bid the world adieu,(A world 'gainst Peace in constant arms)To join the Friendly Few.
Since,thy gay morn of life o'ercast,Chill came the tempest's lour;(And ne'er Misfortune's eastern blast Did nip a fairer flower.)Since life's gay scenes must charm no more,Still much is left behind,Still nobler wealth hast thou in store-The comforts of the mind!
Thine is the self-approving glow,Of conscious Honour's part;And (dearest gift of Heaven below)
Thine Friendship's truest heart.
The joys refin'd of Sense and Taste,With every Muse to rove:
And doubly were the Poet blest,These joys could he improve.
R.B.
[Footnote 1:Miss Lorimer.]
Fragment.-Leezie Lindsay Will ye go to the Hielands,Leezie Lindsay,Will ye go to the Hielands wi'me?
Will ye go to the Hielands,Leezie Lindsay,My pride and my darling to be.
Fragment.-The Wren's Nest The Robin to the Wren's nest Cam keekin'in,cam keekin'in;O weel's me on your auld pow,Wad ye be in,wad ye be in?
Thou's ne'er get leave to lie without,And I within,and I within,Sae lang's I hae an auld clout To rowe ye in,to rowe ye in.
News,Lassies,News There's news,lassies,news,Gude news I've to tell!
There's a boatfu'o'lads Come to our town to sell.
Chorus-The wean wants a cradle,And the cradle wants a cod:
I'll no gang to my bed,Until I get a nod.
Father,quo'she,Mither,quo she,Do what you can,I'll no gang to my bed,Until I get a man.
The wean,&c.
I hae as gude a craft rig As made o'yird and stane;And waly fa'the ley-crap,For I maun till'd again.
The wean,&c.
Crowdie Ever Mair O that I had ne'er been married,I wad never had nae care,Now I've gotten wife an'weans,An'they cry "Crowdie"evermair.
Chorus-Ance crowdie,twice crowdie,Three times crowdie in a day Gin ye crowdie ony mair,Ye'll crowdie a'my meal away.
Waefu'Want and Hunger fley me,Glowrin'by the hallan en';Sair I fecht them at the door,But aye I'm eerie they come ben.
Ance crowdie,&c.
Mally's Meek,Mally's Sweet Chorus-Mally's meek,Mally's sweet,Mally's modest and discreet;Mally's rare,Mally's fair,Mally's every way complete.
As I was walking up the street,A barefit maid I chanc'd to meet;But O the road was very hard For that fair maiden's tender feet.
Mally's meek,&c.
It were mair meet that those fine feet Were weel laced up in silken shoon;An''twere more fit that she should sit Within yon chariot gilt aboon,Mally's meek,&c.
Her yellow hair,beyond compare,Comes trinklin down her swan-like neck,And her two eyes,like stars in skies,Would keep a sinking ship frae wreck,Mally's meek,&c.
Jockey's Taen The Parting Kiss Air-"Bonie lass tak a man."Jockey's taen the parting kiss,O'er the mountains he is gane,And with him is a'my bliss,Nought but griefs with me remain,Spare my Love,ye winds that blaw,Plashy sleets and beating rain!
Spare my Love,thou feath'ry snaw,Drifting o'er the frozen plain!
When the shades of evening creep O'er the day's fair,gladsome e'e,Sound and safely may he sleep,Sweetly blythe his waukening be.
He will think on her he loves,Fondly he'll repeat her name;For where'er he distant roves,Jockey's heart is still the same.
Verses To Collector Mitchell Friend of the Poet,tried and leal,Wha,wanting thee,might beg or steal;Alake,alake,the meikle deil Wi'a'his witches Are at it skelpin jig and reel,In my poor pouches?
I modestly fu'fain wad hint it,That One-pound-one,I sairly want it;If wi'the hizzie down ye sent it,It would be kind;And while my heart wi'life-blood dunted,I'd bear't in mind.
So may the Auld year gang out moanin'
To see the New come laden,groanin',Wi'double plenty o'er the loanin',To thee and thine:
Domestic peace and comforts crownin'
The hale design.
Postscript Ye've heard this while how I've been lickit,And by fell Death was nearly nickit;Grim loon!he got me by the fecket,And sair me sheuk;But by gude luck I lap a wicket,And turn'd a neuk.
But by that health,I've got a share o't,But by that life,I'm promis'd mair o't,My hale and wee,I'll tak a care o't,A tentier way;Then farewell folly,hide and hair o't,For ance and aye!
