by Robert Burns
On stormy seas and far away;
Fate, do with me what you may,
Spare but him that's far away.
At the starless, midnight hour
When Winter rules with boundless power,
As the storms the forests tear,
And thunders rend the howling air,
Listening to the doubling roar,
Surging on the rocky shore,
All I can-I weep and pray
For his weal that's far away,
On the seas and far away,
On stormy seas and far away;
All I can-I weep and pray,
For his weal that's far away.
Peace, thy olive wand extend,
And bid wild War his ravage end,
Man with brother Man to meet,
And as a brother kindly greet;
Then may heav'n with prosperous gales,
Fill my sailor's welcome sails;
To my arms their charge convey,
My dear lad that's far away.
On the seas and far away,
On stormy seas and far away;
To my arms their charge convey,
My dear lad that's far away.
Ca' The Yowes To The Knowes
Second Version
Chorus.-Ca'the yowes to the knowes,
Ca' them where the heather grows,
Ca' them where the burnie rowes,
My bonie Dearie.
Hark the mavis' e'ening sang,
Sounding Clouden's woods amang;
Then a-faulding let us gang,
My bonie Dearie.
Ca' the yowes, &c.
We'll gae down by Clouden side,
Thro' the hazels, spreading wide,
O'er the waves that sweetly glide,
To the moon sae clearly.
Ca' the yowes, &c.
Yonder Clouden's silent towers,^1
Where, at moonshine's midnight hours,
O'er the dewy-bending flowers,
Fairies dance sae cheery.
Ca' the yowes, &c.
Ghaist nor bogle shalt thou fear,
Thou'rt to Love and Heav'n sae dear,
Nocht of ill may come thee near;
My bonie Dearie.
Ca' the yowes, &c.
Fair and lovely as thou art,
Thou hast stown my very heart;
I can die-but canna part,
My bonie Dearie.
Ca' the yowes, &c.
[Footnote 1: An old ruin in a sweet situation at the confluence of the Clouden
and the Nith.-R. B.]
She Says She Loes Me Best Of A'
tune-"Oonagh's Waterfall."
Sae flaxen were her ringlets,
Her eyebrows of a darker hue,
Bewitchingly o'er-arching
Twa laughing e'en o' lovely blue;
Her smiling, sae wyling.
Wad make a wretch forget his woe;
What pleasure, what treasure,
Unto these rosy lips to grow!
Such was my Chloris' bonie face,
When first that bonie face I saw;
And aye my Chloris' dearest charm-
She says, she lo'es me best of a'.
Like harmony her motion,
Her pretty ankle is a spy,
Betraying fair proportion,
Wad make a saint forget the sky:
Sae warming, sae charming,
Her faultless form and gracefu' air;
Ilk feature-auld Nature
Declar'd that she could do nae mair:
Hers are the willing chains o' love,
By conquering Beauty's sovereign law;
And still my Chloris' dearest charm-
She says, she lo'es me best of a'.
Let others love the city,
And gaudy show, at sunny noon;
Gie me the lonely valley,
The dewy eve and rising moon,
Fair beaming, and streaming,
Her silver light the boughs amang;
While falling; recalling,
The amorous thrush concludes his sang;
There, dearest Chloris, wilt thou rove,
By wimpling burn and leafy shaw,
And hear my vows o' truth and love,
And say, thou lo'es me best of a'.
To Dr. Maxwell
On Miss Jessy Staig's recovery.
Maxwell, if merit here you crave,
That merit I deny;
You save fair Jessie from the grave!-
An Angel could not die!
To The Beautiful Miss Eliza J-N
On her Principles of Liberty and Equality.
How, Liberty! girl, can it be by thee nam'd?
Equality too! hussey, art not asham'd?
Free and Equal indeed, while mankind thou enchainest,
And over their hearts a proud Despot so reignest.
On Chloris
Requesting me to give her a Spring of Blossomed Thorn.
From the white-blossom'd sloe my dear Chloris requested
A sprig, her fair breast to adorn:
No, by Heavens! I exclaim'd, let me perish, if ever
I plant in that bosom a thorn!
On Seeing Mrs. Kemble In Yarico
Kemble, thou cur'st my unbelief
For Moses and his rod;
At Yarico's sweet nor of grief
The rock with tears had flow'd.
Epigram On A Country Laird,
not quite so wise as Solomon.
Bless Jesus Christ, O Cardonessp,
With grateful, lifted eyes,
Who taught that not the soul alone,
But body too shall rise;
For had He said "the soul alone
From death I will deliver,"
Alas, alas! O Cardoness,
Then hadst thou lain for ever.
On Being Shewn A Beautiful Country Seat
Belonging to the same Laird.
We grant they're thine, those beauties all,
So lovely in our eye;
Keep them, thou eunuch, Cardoness,
For others to enjoy!
On Hearing It Asserted Falsehood
is expressed in the Rev. Dr. Babington's very looks.
That there is a falsehood in his looks,
I must and will deny:
They tell their Master is a knave,
And sure they do not lie.
On A Suicide
Earth'd up, here lies an imp o' hell,
Planted by Satan's dibble;
Poor silly wretch, he's damned himsel',
To save the Lord the trouble.
On A Swearing Coxcomb
Here cursing, swearing Burton lies,
A buck, a beau, or "Dem my eyes!"
Who in his life did little good,
And his last words were "Dem my blood!"
On An Innkeeper Nicknamed "The Marquis"
Here lies a mock Marquis, whose titles were shamm'd,
If ever he rise, it will be to be damn'd.
On Andrew Turner
In se'enteen hunder'n forty-nine,
The deil gat stuff to mak a swine,
An' coost it in a corner;
But wilily he chang'd his plan,
An' shap'd it something like a man,
An' ca'd it Andrew Turner.
Pretty Peg
As I gaed up by yon gate-end,
When day was waxin' weary,
Wha did I meet come down the street,
But pretty Peg, my dearie!
Her air sae sweet, an' shape complete,
Wi' nae proportion wanting,
The Queen of Love did never move
Wi' motion mair enchanting.
Wi' linked hands we took the sands,
Adown yon winding river;
Oh, that sweet hour and shady bower,
Forget it shall I never!
Esteem For Chloris
As, Chloris, since it may not be,
That thou of lov
e wilt hear;
If from the lover thou maun flee,
Yet let the friend be dear.
Altho' I love my Chloris mair
Than ever tongue could tell;
My passion I will ne'er declare-
I'll say, I wish thee well.
Tho' a' my daily care thou art,
And a' my nightly dream,
I'll hide the struggle in my heart,
And say it is esteem.
Saw Ye My Dear, My Philly
tune-"When she cam' ben she bobbit."
O saw ye my Dear, my Philly?
O saw ye my Dear, my Philly,
She's down i' the grove, she's wi' a new Love,
She winna come hame to her Willy.
What says she my dear, my Philly?
What says she my dear, my Philly?
She lets thee to wit she has thee forgot,
And forever disowns thee, her Willy.
O had I ne'er seen thee, my Philly!
O had I ne'er seen thee, my Philly!
As light as the air, and fause as thou's fair,
Thou's broken the heart o' thy Willy.
How Lang And Dreary Is The Night
How lang and dreary is the night
When I am frae my Dearie;
I restless lie frae e'en to morn
Though I were ne'er sae weary.
Chorus.-For oh, her lanely nights are lang!
And oh, her dreams are eerie;
And oh, her window'd heart is sair,
That's absent frae her Dearie!
When I think on the lightsome days
I spent wi' thee, my Dearie;
And now what seas between us roar,
How can I be but eerie?
For oh, &c.
How slow ye move, ye heavy hours;
The joyless day how dreary:
It was na sae ye glinted by,
When I was wi' my Dearie!
For oh, &c.
Inconstancy In Love
tune-"Duncan Gray."
Let not Woman e'er complain
Of inconstancy in love;
Let not Woman e'er complain
Fickle Man is apt to rove:
Look abroad thro' Nature's range,
Nature's mighty Law is change,
Ladies, would it not seem strange
Man should then a monster prove!
Mark the winds, and mark the skies,
Ocean's ebb, and ocean's flow,
Sun and moon but set to rise,
Round and round the seasons go.
Why then ask of silly Man
To oppose great Nature's plan?
We'll be constant while we can-
You can be no more, you know.
The Lover's Morning Salute To His Mistress
tune-"Deil tak the wars."
Sleep'st thou, or wak'st thou, fairest creature?
Rosy morn now lifts his eye,
Numbering ilka bud which Nature
Waters wi' the tears o' joy.
Now, to the streaming fountain,
Or up the heathy mountain,
The hart, hind, and roe, freely, wildly-wanton stray;
In twining hazel bowers,
Its lay the linnet pours,
The laverock to the sky
Ascends, wi' sangs o' joy,
While the sun and thou arise to bless the day.
Phoebus gilding the brow of morning,
Banishes ilk darksome shade,
Nature, gladdening and adorning;
Such to me my lovely maid.
When frae my Chloris parted,
Sad, cheerless, broken-hearted,
The night's gloomy shades, cloudy, dark, o'ercast my sky:
But when she charms my sight,
In pride of Beauty's light-
When thro' my very heart
Her burning glories dart;
'Tis then-'tis then I wake to life and joy!
The Winter Of Life
But lately seen in gladsome green,
The woods rejoic'd the day,
Thro' gentle showers, the laughing flowers
In double pride were gay:
But now our joys are fled
On winter blasts awa;
Yet maiden May, in rich array,
Again shall bring them a'.
But my white pow, nae kindly thowe
Shall melt the snaws of Age;
My trunk of eild, but buss or beild,
Sinks in Time's wintry rage.
Oh, Age has weary days,
And nights o' sleepless pain:
Thou golden time, o' Youthfu' prime,
Why comes thou not again!
Behold, My Love, How Green The Groves
tune-"My lodging is on the cold ground."
Behold, my love, how green the groves,
The primrose banks how fair;
The balmy gales awake the flowers,
And wave thy flowing hair.
The lav'rock shuns the palace gay,
And o'er the cottage sings:
For Nature smiles as sweet, I ween,
To Shepherds as to Kings.
Let minstrels sweep the skilfu' string,
In lordly lighted ha':
The Shepherd stops his simple reed,
Blythe in the birken shaw.
The Princely revel may survey
Our rustic dance wi' scorn;
But are their hearts as light as ours,
Beneath the milk-white thorn!
The shepherd, in the flowery glen;
In shepherd's phrase, will woo:
The courtier tells a finer tale,
But is his heart as true!
These wild-wood flowers I've pu'd, to deck
That spotless breast o' thine:
The courtiers' gems may witness love,
But, 'tis na love like mine.
The Charming Month Of May
tune-"Daintie Davie."
It was the charming month of May,
When all the flow'rs were fresh and gay.
One morning, by the break of day,
The youthful, charming Chloe-
From peaceful slumber she arose,
Girt on her mantle and her hose,
And o'er the flow'ry mead she goes-
The youthful, charming Chloe.
Chorus.-Lovely was she by the dawn,
Youthful Chloe, charming Chloe,
Tripping o'er the pearly lawn,
The youthful, charming Chloe.
The feather'd people you might see
Perch'd all around on every tree,
In notes of sweetest melody
They hail the charming Chloe;
Till, painting gay the eastern skies,
The glorious sun began to rise,
Outrival'd by the radiant eyes
Of youthful, charming Chloe.
Lovely was she, &c.
Lassie Wi' The Lint-White Locks
tune-"Rothiemurchie's Rant."
Chorus.-Lassie wi'the lint-white locks,
Bonie lassie, artless lassie,
Wilt thou wi' me tent the flocks,
Wilt thou be my Dearie, O?
Now Nature cleeds the flowery lea,
And a' is young and sweet like thee,
O wilt thou share its joys wi' me,
And say thou'lt be my Dearie, O.
Lassie wi' the, &c.
The primrose bank, the wimpling burn,
The cuckoo on the milk-white thorn,
The wanton lambs at early morn,
Shall welcome thee, my Dearie, O.
Lassie wi' the, &c.
And when the welcome simmer shower
Has cheer'd ilk drooping little flower,
We'll to the breathing woodbine bower,
At sultry noon, my Dearie, O.
Lassie wi' the, &c.
When Cynthia lights, wi' silver ray,
The weary shearer's hameward way,
Thro' yellow waving fields we'll st
ray,
And talk o' love, my Dearie, O.
Lassie wi' the, &c.
And when the howling wintry blast
Disturbs my Lassie's midnight rest,
Enclasped to my faithfu' breast,
I'll comfort thee, my Dearie, O.
Lassie wi' the, &c.
Dialogue song - Philly And Willy
tune-"The Sow's tail to Geordie."
He. O Philly, happy be that day,
When roving thro' the gather'd hay,
My youthfu' heart was stown away,
And by thy charms, my Philly.
She. O Willy, aye I bless the grove
Where first I own'd my maiden love,
Whilst thou did pledge the Powers above,
To be my ain dear Willy.
Both. For a' the joys that gowd can gie,
I dinna care a single flie;
The lad I love's the lad for me,
The lass I love's the lass for me,
And that's my ain dear Willy.
And that's my ain dear Philly.
He. As songsters of the early year,
Are ilka day mair sweet to hear,
So ilka day to me mair dear
And charming is my Philly.
She. As on the brier the budding rose,
Still richer breathes and fairer blows,
So in my tender bosom grows
The love I bear my Willy.
Both. For a' the joys, &c.
He. The milder sun and bluer sky
That crown my harvest cares wi' joy,
Were ne'er sae welcome to my eye
As is a sight o' Philly.
She. The little swallow's wanton wing,
Tho' wafting o'er the flowery Spring,