The Canongate Burns
Page 47
The frost may freeze the deepest sea,
But an auld man shall never daunton me. — old, subdue
Chorus
5 To daunton me, to daunton me,
For an auld man shall never daunton me. —
To daunton me, and me sae young, rule/subdue, so
Wi’ his fause heart and flatt’ring tongue, false
That is the thing you shall never see
10 For an auld man shall never daunton me. — old
For a’ his meal and a’ his maut, oatmeal, malt
For a’ his fresh beef and his saut, salt
For a’ his gold and white moníe, money
An auld man shall never daunton me. old
To daunton me &c.
15 His gear may buy him kye and yowes, wealth, cattle, ewes
His gear may buy him glens and knowes, hillocks
But me he shall not buy nor fee, hire
For an auld man shall never daunton me. — old
To daunton me &c.
He hirples twa-fauld as he dow, limps, two-fold, able
20 Wi’ his teethless gab and his auld beld pow, mouth, old bald head
And the rain rins down frae his red-blear’d e’e, runs, from, eye
That auld man shall never daunton me. — old
To daunton me &c.
This is a song written in late 1787, adapted from an old Jacobite song. It is rearranged by Burns to focus on the married mismatch of age and youth with all its concomitant problems. The feisty female voice records its triumph over both her husband’s material possessions and his tangible physical decay.
O’er the Water to Charlie –
First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 2, 14th February, 1788.
Come boat me o’er, come row me o’er,
Come boat me o’er to Charlie;
I’ll gie John Ross another bawbee halfpenny
To boat me o’er to Charlie. —
Chorus
5 We’ll o’er the water, we’ll o’er the sea,
We’ll o’er the water to Charlie;
Come weal, come woe, we’ll gather and go,
And live or die wi’ Charlie. —
I lo’e weel my Charlie’s name, love, well
10 Tho’ some there be abhor him:
But O, to see Auld Nick gaun hame, old Devil, going home
And Charlie’s faes before him! foes
We’ll o’er the water, &c.
I swear and vow by moon and stars,
And sun that shines so early!
15 If I had twenty thousand lives,
I’d die as aft for Charlie. — often
We’ll o’er the water, &c.
An obvious Jacobite song, as Low remarks (see no. 85, p. 265), based on a traditional work in The True Loyalist (1779), where the chorus is adapted from another song in the same collection. Donaldson notes that:
Burns matches the rhythmical impetus of the superb original tune with subtly varied repetition and an unobtrusive pattern of alliteration and internal rhyme to produce a heady evocation of Jacobite exile with a distictly millenarian flavour (p. 81).
A Rosebud, by My Early Walk
First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 2, 14th February, 1788.
A Rose-bud by my early walk,
Adown a corn-inclosed bawk, unploughed rig end
Sae gently bent its thorny stalk
All on a dewy morning. —
5 Ere twice the shades o’ dawn are fled,
In a’ its crimson glory spread,
And drooping rich the dewy head,
It scents the early morning. —
Within the bush her covert nest
10 A little linnet fondly prest,
The dew sat chilly on her breast
Sae early in the morning. — so
She soon shall see her tender brood
The pride, the pleasure o’ the wood,
15 Amang the fresh green leaves bedew’d, among
Awauk the early morning. — awake
So thou, dear bird, young Jeany fair,
On trembling string or vocal air,
Shall sweetly pay the tender care
20 That tents thy early morning. — tends
So thou, sweet Rosebud, young and gay,
Shalt beauteous blaze upon the day,
And bless the Parent’s evening ray
That watch’d thy early morning. —
The ‘rosebud’ of this song was Miss Janet (Jeany) Cruickshank, daughter to Mr William Cruickshank, classics teacher, Edinburgh High School. There are three extant letters from Burns to Mr Cruickshank. On 8th October, 1787 Burns describes her as his ‘dear little Jeany’ (Letter 142). In March 1788 he refers to her as a ‘sweet little Rose-bud’ (Letter 214). He sent the poem to Dr John Moore, February 1791.
To a Blackbird
or Revision for Clarinda
Tune: Scots Queen
First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 2, 14th February, 1788.
Go on, sweet bird, and soothe my care,
Thy tuneful notes will soothe Despair;
Thy plaintive warblings void of art
Thrill sweetly thro’ my aching heart.
5 Now chuse thy mate, and fondly love,
And all the charming transport prove;
While I a lovelorn exile live,
Nor transport or receive or give.
For thee is laughing Nature gay;
10 For thee she pours the vernal day:
For me in vain is Nature drest,
While Joy’s a stranger to my breast!
These sweet emotions all enjoy;
Let love and song thy hours employ!
15 Go on, sweet bird, and soothe my care;
Thy tuneful notes will hush Despair.
This work was written by Clarinda, Agnes McLehose, then revised by Burns before publication. Ll. 8–14 are the contribution of Burns. Burns did not claim the song as his. It was published as ‘By a lady’.
And I’ll Kiss Thee Yet
Tune: Braes o’ Balquhidder
First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 2, 14th February, 1788.
Chorus
An I’ll kiss thee yet, yet,
An I’ll kiss thee o’er again;
An I’ll kiss thee yet, yet,
My bonie Peggy Alison.
5 Ilk Care and Fear, when thou are near, each/every
I ever mair defy them, O; more
Young Kings upon their hansel throne newly obtained
Are no sae blest as I am, O! not so
An I’ll kiss &c.
When in my arms, wi’ a’ thy charms,
10 I clasp my countless treasure, O!
I seek nae mair o’ Heav’n to share, no more
Than sic a moment’s pleasure, O! such
An I’ll kiss &c.
And by thy een sae bonie blue, eyes, so
I swear I’m thine forever O!
15 And on thy lips I seal my vow,
And break it shall I never O!
An I’ll kiss &c.
The first verse does not appear in the S.M.M. but was included in a later manuscript. Burns notes in the Hastie MS: ‘The chorus is the first, or lowest part of the tune – Each verse must be repeated twice to go through the high, or 2nd part –.’ Burns signed this ‘Z’ to indicate the chorus is old; the verses his. Gilbert Burns and his sister Isobel tell differing stories of the possible heroine. As they cannot both be right, it is likely the name employed comes from the old song, not a woman Burns met.
Rattlin, Roarin Willie
First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 2, 14th February, 1788.
O Rattlin, roarin Willie,
O he held to the fair,
An’ for to sell his fiddle
And buy some other ware; goods
5 But parting wi’ his fiddle,
The saut tear blin’t his e’e; salt, blinded, eye
And Rattlin, roarin Willie,
Ye’re welcome hame to me. home
O Willie, com
e sell your fiddle,
10 O sell your fiddle sae fine; so
O Willie, come sell your fiddle,
And buy a pint o’ wine;
If I should sell my fiddle,
The warld would think I was mad, world
15 For mony a rantin day many, jovial
My fiddle and I hae had. have
As I cam by Crochallan came, the Fencibles’ Club
I cannily keekit ben, cautiously looked in
Rattlin, roarin Willie
20 Was sitting at yon boord-en’, board-end/top of the table
Sitting at yon boord-en’,
And amang guid companie; among good
Rattlin, roarin Willie,
Ye’re welcome hame to me! home
The poet records in the Interleaved S.M.M. that only the final stanza of this song is his, the remainder being a traditional song. He states ‘it was composed out of compliment to one of the worthiest fellows in the world, William Dunbar, Esq., writer to the Signet, Edinburgh, and Colonel of the Crochallan corps – a club of wits who took that title at the time of raising the fencible regiments’. There are seven letters between Burns and William Dunbar. See notes to Where Wit May Sparkle, a quatrain newly added to the canon, written by Burns to Dunbar.
Where, Braving Angry Winter’s Storms
Tune: Neil Gow’s Lament for Abercairny
First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 2, 14th February, 1788.
Where braving angry Winter’s storms
The lofty Ochels rise, Ochil hills
Far in their shade, my Peggy’s charms
First blest my wondering eyes. —
5 As one who by some savage stream
A lonely gem surveys,
Astonish’d doubly marks it beam
With art’s most polish’d blaze. —
Blest be the wild, sequester’d glade
10 And blest the day and hour,
Where Peggy’s charms I first survey’d,
When first I felt their pow’r. —
The tyrant Death with grim controul
May seize my fleeting breath,
15 But tearing Peggy from my soul
Must be a stronger death. —
This was one of two songs went to Gavin Hamilton’s cousin, Margaret (Peggy) Chalmers (1763–1843) in the early winter of 1787. In a letter to her Burns gives considerable indication not only of the genesis of the song but the complex intensity of his attitude to Margaret Chalmers:
I have just now read yours. The poetic compliments I pay cannot be misunderstood. They are neither of them so particular as to point you out to the world at large; and the circle of your acquaintances will allow all I have said. Besides, I have complimented you chiefly, almost solely, on your mental charms. Shall I be plain with you? I will; so look to it. Personal attractions, madam, you have much above par; wit, understanding and worth, you possess in the first class. This is a cursed flat way of telling you these truths, but let me hear no more of your sheepish timidity. I know the world a little. I know what they will say of my poems; by second sight I suppose; for I am seldom out in my conjectures; and you may believe me my dear madam, I would not run any risk of hurting you by an ill-judged compliment, I wish to show the world the odds between a poet’s friends and those of simple prosemen. More for your information both the pieces go in’ (Letter 150).
Margaret’s resistance was partly successful. The more obviously identifiable My Peggy’s Face, My Peggy’s Form did not appear till 1803 (S.M.M., no. 501). Manifestly this is more than a quarrel about a private relationship being made artistically public. There is an insistent pressure in these letters to Margaret Chalmers, cultured, musical, that bespeak more intimate needs. Margaret Chalmers is alleged to have in later life told the poet Thomas Campbell that Burns had proposed marriage but that she was already engaged to a banker, Lewis Hay, whom she in fact married in December, 1788. Burns’s letters to her exist only in transcript; the originals were deliberately destroyed. None of her letters to him survive. This correspondence was being carried on simultaneously with the inflammatory melodrama with Mrs McLehose who certainly did not like to hide the light of her creative intentions under a bushel.
O Tibby, I Hae Seen the Day
Tune: Invercauld’s Reel
First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 2, 14th February, 1788.
Yestreen I met you on the Moor yesterday evening
Ye spak na, but gaed by like stoor spoke not, went by, dust
Ye geck at me because I’m poor scoff, or toss the head
But fient a hair care I. — not
Chorus
5 Tibby I hae seen the day have
Ye wadna been sae shy would not, so
For laik o’ gear ye lightly me lack of possessions
But trowth, I care na by — truly, I care as little
When comin hame on Sunday last home
10 Upon the road as I cam past
Ye snufft an’ gae your head a cast sniffed
But trowth, I caretna by. — truly, I care as little
O Tibbie &c.
I doubt na lass, but ye may think not, you
Because ye hae the name o’ clink you, have, money
15 That ye can please me at a wink
Whene’er ye like to try. —
O Tibbie &c.
But sorrow tak him that’s sae mean take, so
Altho’ his pouch o’ coin were clean
Wha follows onie saucy Quean, any, girl
20 That looks sae proud and high. —
O Tibbie &c.
Altho’ a lad were e’er sae smart ever so
If that he want the yellow dirt
Ye’ll cast your head anither airt another direction
And answer him fu’ dry. — full
O Tibbie &c.
25 But if he hae the name o’ gear has, wealth
Ye’ll fasten to him like a breer wild thorny brier
Tho’ hardly he for sense or lear learning
Be better than the ky. — cattle
O Tibbie &c.
But, Tibbie, lass, tak my advice take
30 Your daddie’s gear maks you sae nice wealth, haughty
The de’il a ane wad spier your price devil, one, would ask
Were ye as poor as I. — you
O Tibbie &c.
There lives a lass beside yon park,
I’d rather hae her in her sark have, shirt or dress
35 Than you wi’ a’ your thousand mark
That gars you look sae high. — makes
O Tibbie &c.
An’ Tibby I hae seen the day
Ye wadna been sae shy
An’ for laik o’ gear ye lightly me scorn
40 But fien’ a hair care I. —
In the First Commonplace Book an early draught of this song appears, dated September 1784, although the poet records that he began the song when about seventeen years old. ‘Tibbie’ is believed to be Isabella Steven, who lived near Lochlie, where the Burns family farmed from 1777. Scott Douglas mentions a Tibbie Steen, as the heroine (Vol. 2, p. 235). The song is autobiographical, revealing an early sign of Burns’s chronic problem in relating to socially superior women. Signed X in the S.M.M. where there are only six verses printed, rather than the eight of the final song.
Clarinda
First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 2, 14th February, 1788.
Clarinda, mistress of my soul,
The measur’d time is run!
The wretch beneath the dreary pole,
So marks his latest sun.
5 To what dark cave of frozen night
Shall poor Sylvander hie,
Depriv’d of thee, his life and light,
The Sun of all his joy.
We part — but by these precious drops,
10 That fill thy lovely eyes!
No other light shall guide my steps,
Till thy bright beams arise.
She, the fair Sun of all her sex,
Has blest my glo
rious day:
15 And shall a glimmering Planet fix
My worship to its ray?
This was the poet’s parting song to Mrs McLehose when he left Edinburgh in early 1788. Sylvander was Burns’s pen-name in his epistlotary relationship with Clarinda (Mrs McLehose). Unlike Ae Fond Kiss, this poem echoes the sentimental clichéd tone of their letters.
Second Epistle to Davie
First printed in 1789 by David Sillar, in his own collection of poems.
AULD NIBOR, old neighbour
I’m three times, doubly, o’er your debtor,
For your auld-farrant, frien’ly letter; old-fashioned
Tho’ I maun say’t, I doubt ye flatter, shall/must
5 Ye speak sae fair; so
For my puir, silly, rhymin’ clatter poor, noise
Some less maun sair. must, serve
Hale be your heart, hale be your fiddle;
Lang may your elbuck jink an’ diddle, elbow, move fast, jig
10 To cheer you thro’ the weary widdle struggle
O’ war’ly cares, worldly
Till bairns’ bairns kindly cuddle children’s children
Your auld grey hairs. old
But DAVIE, lad, I’m red ye’re glaikit; informed, careless/foolish
15 I’m tauld the MUSE ye hae negleckit; told, have, neglected