The Canongate Burns

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by Robert Burns


  And every flower be springing.

  Second Chorus

  15 Sae I’ll rejoice the lee-lang day, live long

  When by his mighty Warden

  My Youth’s return’d to fair Strathspey

  And bonie Castle-Gordon.

  This was written as a result of the poet’s tour of the Highlands and his visit to Castle Gordon in September 1787 to see the Duchess of Gordon. Burns, keenly aware of Jacobite history, knew that Prince Charles Edward Stuart visited Castle Gordon sometime before the battle of Culloden.

  The Winter It is Past

  First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 2, 14th February, 1788.

  The winter it is past, and the summer’s comes at last,

  And the small birds sing on ev’ry tree;

  The hearts of these are glad, but mine is very sad,

  For my Lover has parted from me.

  5 The rose upon the brier, by the waters running clear,

  May have charms for the linnet or the bee;

  Their little loves are blest and their little hearts at rest,

  But my Lover is parted from me.

  My love is like the sun, in the firmament does run,

  10 For ever is constant and true;

  But his is like the moon that wanders up and down,

  And every month it is new.

  All you that are in love and cannot it remove,

  I pity the pains you endure:

  15 For experience makes me know that your hearts are full of woe,

  A woe that no mortal can cure.

  This is adapted from a lyric The Love Sick Maid published in 1765. The original words tell the story of an Irish woman whose lover, a highway robber, was hanged at the Curragh of Kildare, leaving her to mourn. Mackay has dropped the final two stanzas, which appear in S.M.M and most major editions, including Henley and Henderson and Kinsley.

  I Dream’d I Lay

  Tune: I Dream’d I Lay

  First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 2, 14th February, 1788.

  I dream’d I lay where flowers were springing

  Gaily in the sunny beam,

  List’ning to the wild birds singing,

  By a falling, chrystal stream;

  5 Streight the sky grew black and daring,

  Thro’ the woods the whirlwinds rave;

  Trees with aged arms were warring,

  O’er the swelling, drumlie wave. turbid

  Such was my life’s deceitful morning,

  10 Such the pleasures I enjoy’d;

  But lang or noon, loud tempests storming— ere

  A’ my flowery bliss destroy’d.

  Tho’ fickle Fortune has deceiv’d me,

  She promis’d fair, and perform’d but ill;

  15 Of mony a joy and hope bereav’d me, many

  I bear a heart shall support me still.

  Burns wrote ‘These two stanzas I composed when I was seventeen’. Composition is therefore sometime in 1776. This provides another example of the degree to which he was early, presciently haunted by an ill-fated life.

  Duncan Davison

  First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 2, 14th February, 1788.

  There was a lass, they ca’d her Meg, called

  And she held o’er the moors to spin;

  There was a lad that follow’d her,

  They ca’d him Duncan Davison. called

  5 The moor was dreigh, and Meg was skeigh, dull, fiery

  Her favour Duncan could na win; not

  For wi’ the rock she wad him knock, would

  And ay she shook the temper-pin. speed regulator pin

  As o’er the moor they lightly foor, went

  10 A burn was clear, a glen was green,

  Upon the banks they eas’d their shanks, rested limbs/legs

  And ay she set the wheel between:

  But Duncan swoor a haly aith swore, holy oath

  That Meg should be a bride the morn;

  15 Then Meg took up her spinnin-graith, equipment

  And flang them a’ out o’er the burn. threw

  We will big a wee, wee house, build

  And we will live like king and queen;

  Sae blythe and merry’s we will be, so

  20 When ye set by the wheel at e’en. evening

  A man may drink and no be drunk,

  A man may fight and no be slain:

  A man may kiss a bonie lass,

  And ay be welcome back again.

  Burns signed this with a ‘Z’ when published by Johnson to indicate that he had either made ‘corrections, or additions’ to a traditional work. The final lines have a natural flow indicative of Burns, as found in his version of Logan Braes.

  Theniel Menzies’ Bonie Mary

  Tune: The Ruffian’s Rant, or Roy’s Wife

  First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 2, 14th February, 1788.

  In comin by the brig o’ Dye, bridge

  At Darlet we a blink did tarry; short while, stopped

  As day was dawin in the sky dawning

  We drank a health to bonie Mary. —

  Chorus

  5 Theniel Menzies’ bonie Mary,

  Theniel Menzies’ bonie Mary,

  Charlie Grigor tint his plaidie lost his plaid

  Kissin Theniel’s bonie Mary. —

  Her een sae bright, her brow sae white, eyes so, so

  10 Her haffet locks as brown’s a berry, temple

  And ay they dimpl’t wi’ a smile,

  The rosy cheeks o’ bonie Mary. —

  Theniel Menzies’ &c.

  We lap an’ danc’d the lee-lang day, jumped, live long

  Till Piper lads were wae and weary; worn out

  15 But Charlie gat the spring to pay got

  For kissin Theniel’s bonie Mary. —

  Theniel Menzies’ &c.

  The river Dye is near Stonehaven. The poet visited the area (where some of his relatives lived) with William Nicol on 10th September, 1787 during his tour of the Highlands. The music for the lyric is a strathspey known under the two titles listed above. Kinsley is probably right that the words are adapted from an original bawdy song.

  Lady Onlie, Honest Lucky,

  or A’ the Lads o’ Thorniebank

  Tune: The Ruffian’s Rant

  First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 2, 14th February, 1788.

  A’ the lads o’ Thornie-bank

  When they gae to the shore o’ Bucky, go

  They’ll step in an’ tak a pint take

  Wi’ Lady Onlie, honest lucky. —

  Chorus

  5 Lady Onlie, honest lucky,

  Brews gude ale at shore o’ Bucky; good

  I wish her sale for her guid ale, good

  The best on a’ the shore o’ Bucky. —

  Her house sae bien, her curch sae clean, so snug, kerchief

  10 I wat she is a dainty Chuckie! know, old darling

  And cheery blinks the ingle-gleede hearth-ember

  O’ Lady Onlie, honest lucky. —

  This is a traditional drinking song collected and brushed up by Burns during his Highland tour in September 1787. ‘Bucky’ refers to the small fishing town of Buckie. Lady Onlie is the old landlady.

  The Banks of the Devon

  Tune: Bhannerach dhon na chri

  First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 2, 14th February, 1788.

  How pleasant the banks of the clear-winding Devon,

  With green-spreading bushes, and flow’rs blooming fair!

  But the boniest flower on the banks of the Devon

  Was once a sweet bud on the braes of the Ayr. hill sides

  5 Mild be the sun on this sweet-blushing Flower,

  In the gay, rosy morn as it bathes in the dew;

  And gentle the fall of the soft, vernal shower,

  That steals on the evening each leaf to renew!

  O spare the dear blossom, ye orient breezes,

  10 With chill, hoary wing as ye usher the dawn!

  And far be thou distant, thou reptile that
seizes

  The verdure and pride of the garden or lawn!

  Let Bourbon exult in his gay, gilded Lilies,

  And England triumphant display her proud Rose;

  15 A fairer than either adorns the green vallies

  Where Devon, sweet Devon meandering flows. —

  This exquisite lyric celebrates Charlotte Hamilton (1763–1806), younger sister of Gavin Hamilton, Mauchline. Burns wrote to Gavin on 28th August, 1787, commenting – ‘Yesterday morning I rode from this town [Stirling] up the meandering Devon’s banks, to pay my respects to some Ayrshire folks at Harvieston [Clack-mannanshire]…. Of Charlotte I cannot speak in common terms of admiration: she is not only beautiful, but lovely…’ (Letter 132).

  Weary Fa’ You, Duncan Gray

  Tune: Duncan Gray

  First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 2, 14th February, 1788.

  WEARY fa’ you, Duncan Gray, fall

  Ha, ha the girdin o’t, horse girthing/ galloping

  Wae gae by you, Duncan Gray, woe go

  Ha, ha the girdin o’t;

  5 When a’ the lave gae to their play, remainder go

  Then I maun sit the lee-lang day, must, live-long

  And jeeg the cradle wi’ my tae rock, toe

  And a’ for the bad girdin o’t. — girthing for galloping (copulation)

  Bonie was the Lammas moon

  10 Ha, ha the girdin o’t,

  Glowrin a’ the hills aboon, glowing, above

  Ha, ha the girdin o’t;

  The girdin brak, the beast cam down, girthing broke, horse came

  I tint my curch and baith my shoon, lost, kerchief, both, shoes

  15 And Duncan ye’re an unco loun; strange rascal

  Wae on the bad girdin o’t. — woe

  But Duncan gin ye’ll keep your aith, if, oath

  Ha, ha the girdin o’t,

  I’se bless you wi’ my hindmost breath, I’ll

  20 Ha, ha the girdin o’t;

  Duncan gin ye’ll keep your aith,

  The beast again can bear us baith horse, both

  And auld Mess John will mend the skaith old, Minister, damage

  And clout the bad girdin o’t. — patch

  This is based on a traditional bawdy song somewhat cleaned up by Burns, but left with happy overtones of horsy, sexual pleasure. The original lyric changed by Burns is from the David Herd collection.

  The Ploughman

  First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 2, 14th February, 1788.

  The Ploughman he’s a bony lad,

  His mind is ever true, jo, sweetheart

  His garters knit below his knee,

  His bonnet it is blue, jo.

  Chorus

  5 Then up wi’t a’, my Ploughman lad, with it

  And hey, my merry Ploughman;

  Of a’ the trades that I do ken, know

  Commend me to the Ploughman.

  My Ploughman he comes hame at e’en, home, evening

  10 He’s aften wat and weary: often wet

  Cast aff the wat, put on the dry, off, wet

  And gae to bed, my Dearie. go

  Then up wi’t a’, &c.

  I will wash my Ploughman’s hose,

  And I will dress his o’erlay; necktie

  15 I will mak my Ploughman’s bed, make

  And chear him late and early.

  Then up wi’t a’, &c.

  I hae been east, I hae been west, have

  I hae been at Saint Johnston, Perth

  The boniest sight that e’er I saw

  20 Was the Ploughman laddie dancin.

  Then up wi’t a’, &c.

  Snaw-white stockings on his legs, snow-

  And siller buckles glancin; silver

  A guid blue bonnet on his head, good

  And O but he was handsome!

  Then up wi’t a’, &c.

  25 Commend me to the Barn yard,

  And the Corn-mou, man; corn stook

  I never gat my Coggie fou got, (cup) womb full

  Till I met wi’ the Ploughman.

  Then up wi’t a’, &c.

  This is another traditional song worked over by Burns from the song collection by David Herd. The second and third stanzas are from the old song. The chorus is also old, leaving Burns’s input as the first, fourth, fifth and sixth stanzas.

  Landlady, Count the Lawin

  Tune: Hey Tuti Tatey ‒

  First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 2, 14th February, 1788.

  Landlady count the lawin, bill

  The day is near the dawin, dawning

  Ye’re a’ blind drunk, boys,

  And I’m but jolly fou. — full/drunk

  Chorus

  5 Hey tuti, tatey, How tuti, taiti,

  Hey tuti taiti, wha’s fou now. —

  Cog an ye were ay fou, drinking jug, always drunk

  Cog an ye were ay fou;

  I wad sit and sing to you, would

  10 If ye were ay fou. —

  Hey tuti, tatey &c.

  Weel may we a’ be, well, all

  Ill may ye never see!

  God bless the king

  And the Companie!

  Hey tuti, tatey &c.

  This is a reworking of a traditional lyric. Like Willie Brew’d A Peck O Maut, it is a drinking song to be sung as by a drunk. Given the traditional tune and lyrics, it is certain the reference is to a Stuart not a Hanoverian king.

  Raving Winds around Her Blowing

  Tune: McGrigor of Rora’s Lament

  First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 2, 14th February, 1788.

  Raving winds around her blowing,

  Yellow leaves the woodlands strowing,

  By a river hoarsely roaring

  Isabella stray’d deploring.

  5 Farewell, hours that late did measure

  Sunshine days of joy and pleasure;

  Hail, thou gloomy night of sorrow,

  Cheerless night that knows no morrow.

  O’er the Past too fondly wandering,

  10 On the hopeless Future pondering;

  Chilly Grief my life-blood freezes,

  Fell Despair my fancy seizes.

  Life, thou soul of every blessing,

  Load to Misery most distressing,

  15 Gladly how would I resign thee,

  And to dark Oblivion join thee!’

  This work was written in 1787 by Burns out of sympathy with Miss Isabella McLeod, on the death of her sister, Flora McLeod, and her sister’s husband, the Earl of Loudon, who killed himself due to financial debts.

  Musing on the Roaring Ocean

  Tune: Druimionn dubh

  First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 2, 14th February, 1788.

  Musing on the roaring ocean

  Which divides my Love and me,

  Wearying Heaven in warm devotion

  For his weal where’er he be;

  5 Hope and Fear’s alternate billow

  Yielding late to Nature’s law,

  Whispering spirits round my pillow,

  Talk of him that’s far awa. —

  Ye whom Sorrow never wounded,

  10 Ye who never shed a tear,

  Care-untroubled, joy-surrounded,

  Gaudy Day to you is dear:

  Gentle Night do thou befriend me;

  Downy sleep the curtain draw;

  15 Spirits kind again attend me,

  Talk of him that’s far awa!

  Burns records that he composed this song as a ‘compliment to a Mrs McLachlan, whose husband is an officer in the East Indies’ (See Low, no. 82, p. 257).

  Blythe was She –

  Composed at Auchtertyre on Miss Euphemia Murray of Lentrose

  Tune: Andro and his Cuttie Gun.

  First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 2, 14th February, 1788.

  By Oughtertyre grows the aik, oak

  On Yarrow banks the birken shaw; birch woods

  But Phemie was a bonier lass Miss Murray

  Than braes o’ Yarrow ever saw. — hillsides
r />   Chorus

  5 Blythe, blythe and merry was she,

  Blythe was she butt and ben: outside, inside

  Blythe by the banks of Ern, river Earn

  And blythe in Glenturit glen!

  Her looks were like a flower in May,

  10 Her smile was like a simmer morn, summer

  She tripped by the banks o’ Ern

  As light’s a bird upon a thorn. —

  Blythe, blythe &c.

  Her bonie face it was as meek

  As ony lamb upon a lee; any, pasture

  15 The evening sun was ne’er sae sweet never so

  As was the blink o’ Phemie’s e’e. eye

  Blythe, blythe &c.

  The Highland hills I’ve wander’d wide,

  As o’er the lawlands I hae been; lowlands, have

  But Phemie was the blythest lass

  20 That ever trod the dewy green. —

  Blythe, blythe &c.

  Written in the Autumn of 1787 at Auchtertyre on Miss Euphemia Murray of Lentrose as Burns records in the extended title to this song.

  To Daunton Me –

  Tune: To Daunton Me -

  First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 2, 14th February, 1788.

  The blude-red rose at Yule may blaw, blood-, blow

  The simmer lilies bloom in snaw, summer, snow

 

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