The Canongate Burns
Page 51
20 I like the jads for a’ that! hussies
For a’ that, an’ a’ that, &c.
This is signed as the work of Burns in the S.M.M. It is an adapted extract from his cantata, The Jolly Beggars, namely The Bard’s Song.
Killiecrankie
Tune: Killiecranckie
First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 3, 2nd February, 1790.
Whare hae ye been sae braw, lad! where have, so fine
Whare hae ye been sae brankie O? strutting smartly
Whare hae ye been sae braw, lad?
Cam ye by Killiecrankie O? come
Chorus
5 An ye had been whare I hae been, where, have
Ye wad na been sae cantie O; would not, so cheerful
An ye had seen what I hae seen, have
On the braes o’ Killiecrankie O. hill slopes
I faught at land, I faught at sea,
10 At hame I faught my Auntie, O; home
But I met the Devil and Dundee
On th’ braes o’ Killiecrankie, O. hill slopes
An ye had been, &c.
‘The bauld Pitcur fell in a furr, bold, dep ditch
An’ Clavers gat a clankie, O; blow
15 Or I had fed an Athole Gled hawk
On th’ braes o’ Killiecrankie, O. hill slopes
An ye had been, &c.
Although Burns visited the scene of this battle in the Autumn of 1787, during his Highland tour, it is uncertain how much of this song is his. He left no commentary and the remarks in the Interleaved S.M.M. are by Robert Riddell, who noted that the battle occurred on 27th July 1689 between the Jacobite forces of Graham of Claverhouse (Bonnie Dundee) and the Hanoverian loyalists led by General Mackay. As Kinsley states, the song is written in the voice of ‘one of Mackay’s men saved only by the deaths, in pursuit, of Claverhouse and Haliburton of Pitcur’ (Vol. III, no. 313, p. 1340).
Willie Brew’d a Peck o’ Maut
First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 3, 2nd February, 1790.
O, Willie brewed a peck o’ maut, malt
And Rob and Allan cam to see; came
Three blyther hearts, that lee-lang night, live-long
Ye wad na found in Christendie. would not
Chorus
5 We are na fou, we’re nae that fou, not full/drunk, not drunk
But just a drappie in our e’e; droplet, eye
The cock may craw, the day may daw, crow, dawn
And ay we’ll taste the barley bree. -brew
Here are we met, three merry boys,
10 Three merry boys I trow are we; pledge
And monie a night we’ve merry been,
And monie mae we hope to be! more
We are na fou, &c.
It is the moon, I ken her horn, know
That’s blinkin in the lift sae hie; glinting, sky, high
15 She shines sae bright to wyle us hame, so, lure, home
But, by my sooth she’ll wait a wee! word, while
We are na fou, &c.
Wha first shall rise to gang awa, who, go away
A cuckold, coward loun is he! fool
Wha first beside his chair shall fa’, who, fall
20 He is the king amang us three! among
We are na fou, &c.
The music to this drinking song is by Allan Masterton, one of the poet’s Edinburgh friends, who, with the poet, is alluded to in the first stanza. The brewer of this Bacchanalian song, Willie, is William Nicol, the Latin teacher at Edinburgh High School. The song celebrates a convivial evening when the three friends met in Moffat where Nicol was on holiday.
The Day Returns –
For Robert Riddell’s Wedding Anniversary
Tune: Seventh of November
First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 3, 2nd February, 1790.
The day returns, my bosom burns,
The blissful day we twa did meet; two
Tho’ Winter wild in tempest toil’d,
Ne’er simmer-sun was half sae sweet: so
5 Than a’ the pride that loads the tide,
And crosses o’er the sultry Line;
Than kingly robes, than crowns and globes,
Heav’n gave me more — it made thee mine.
While day and night can bring delight,
10 Or Nature aught of pleasure give;
While Joys Above, my mind can move,
For Thee and Thee alone I live!
When that grim foe of Life below
Comes in between to make us part;
15 The iron hand that breaks our Band,
It breaks my bliss — it breaks my heart!
This lyric was written by Burns to accompany a melody composed by his friend Robert Riddell of Glenriddell on his wedding anniversary, which fell on 7th November – hence the name of the tune. Burns was an intimate friend of the Riddells: ‘At their fire-side I have enjoyed more pleasant evenings than at all the houses of fashionable people in this country put together … many of the happiest hours of my life’ (quoted by Cromek, p. 269, from Burns’s notes in the Interleaved Scots Musical Museum). The song is sung as from the lips of Robert Riddell to his wife. Ll. 7–8 are also politically apposite to Burns’s relationship to Robert Riddell.
The Blue-Eyed Lassie
Tune: The Blathrie O’ ’t
First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 3, 2nd February, 1790.
I gaed a waefu’ gate, yestreen, went, doleful, way, last night
A gate, I fear, I’ll dearly rue;
I gat my death frae twa sweet een, got, from two, eyes
Twa lovely een o’ bonie blue. two, eyes
‘Twas not her golden ringlets bright,
Her lips like roses, wat wi’ dew, wet
Her heaving bosom, lily-white,
It was her een sae bonie blue. eyes so
She talk’d, she smil’d, my heart she wyl’d,
She charm’d my soul I wist na how; know not
And ay the stound, the deadly wound, heart ache
Cam frae her een sae bonie blue. came from, eyes so
But spare to speak, and spare to speed; shy & inattentive
She’ll aiblins listen to my vow: maybe
Should she refuse, I’ll lay my dead
To her twa een sae bonie blue. two eyes so
This was composed on Jean Jaffray (1773–1850), daughter of Rev. Andrew Jaffray, minister at Lochmaben, Dumfriesshire. The initial air by Robert Riddell was changed to The Blathrie O’ ’t in Thomson’s version.
Tam Glen
Tune: Merry Beggars
First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 3, 2nd February, 1790.
My heart is a breaking, dear Tittie, sister
Some counsel unto me come len’; lend
To anger them a’ is a pity,
But what will I do wi’ Tam Glen? —
5 I’m thinking, wi’ sic a braw fellow, such, fine
In poortith I might mak a fen’: poverty, shift
What care I in riches to wallow,
If I mauna marry Tam Glen. — may not
There’s Lowrie the laird o’ Dumeller,
10 ‘Guid day to you, brute’ he comes ben: good, on
He brags and he blaws o’ his siller, boasts, money
But when will he dance like Tam Glen. —
My minnie does constantly deave me, mother, chide
And bids me beware o’ young men;
15 They flatter, she says, to deceive me,
But wha can think sae o’ Tam Glen. — who, so
My Daddie says, gin I’ll forsake him, if
He’d gie me gude hunder marks ten: give, good
But if it’s ordain’d I maun take him, must
20 O wha will I get but Tam Glen? who
Yestreen at the Valentines’ dealing,1 last night
My heart to my mou gied a sten; mouth gave, leap
For thrice I drew ane without failing, one
And thrice it was written, Tam Glen. —
25 The last Halloween I was wauki
n waken/watching
My droukit sark-sleeve, as ye ken; drenched shirt-, know
His likeness came up the house staukin, image, stalking
And the very grey breeks o’ Tam Glen! trousers
Come, counsel, dear Tittie, don’t tarry; sister
30 I’ll gie ye my bonie black hen, give
Gif ye will advise me to Marry if
The lad I lo’e dearly, Tam Glen. — love
Burns sent this original dramatic lyric to Johnson in November 1788. A characteristic theme of Burns’s women’s songs is the matrimonial choice of love as opposed to wealth. Aided by the psychic forces occassioned by the Valentine’s lottery and the Halloween rituals, the girl is not to be denied her materially poor lover. ‘Brute’ is restored in l. 10 as earlier editors suppressed this female denunciation of a social superior.
1 An old custom of sweethearts being chosen by lot on St. Valentine’s Day. R.B.
The Banks of Nith
Tune: Robie donna gorach
First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 3, 2nd February, 1790.
The Thames flows proudly to the sea,
Where royal cities stately stand;
But sweeter flows the Nith, to me,
Where Cummins ance had high command: once
5 When shall I see that honor’d Land,
That winding Stream I love so dear!
Must wayward Fortune’s adverse hand
For ever, ever keep me here.
How lovely, Nith, thy fruitful vales,
10 Where bounding hawthorns gaily bloom;
And sweetly spread thy sloping dales
Where lambkins wanton thro’ the broom!
Tho’ wandering now must be my doom,
Far from thy bonie banks and braes, hill slopes
15 May there my latest hours consume
Amang my friends of early days! among
This was, as Burns told Mrs Dunlop, his first compliment to the river Nith, written on 20th August 1788. Cummins (l. 4) is Bruce’s rival, The Red Comyn.
Prologue Spoken at the Theatre of Dumfries
On New Year’s Day Evening, 1790
First printed in The St. James’s Chronicle & British Evening Post,14th January, 1790.
No song nor dance I bring from yon great city,
That queens it o’er our taste — the more’s the pity:
Tho’ by the bye, abroad why will you roam?
Good sense and taste are natives here at home.
5 But not for panegyric I appear,
I come to wish you all a good New Year!
Old Father Time deputes me here before ye,
Not for to preach, but tell his simple story:
The sage grave Ancient cough’d, and bade me say,
10 ‘You’re one year older this important day,’
If wiser too — he hinted some suggestion,
But ’twould be rude, you know, to ask the question;
And with a would-be-roguish leer and wink,
He bade me on you press this one word — ‘THINK!’
15 Ye sprightly youths, quite flush with hope and spirit,
Who think to storm the world by dint of merit,
To you the dotard has a deal to say,
In his sly, dry, sententious, proverb way!
He bids you mind, amid your thoughtless rattle
20 That the first blow is ever half the battle;
That tho’ some by the skirt may try to snatch him,
Yet by the forelock is the hold to catch him;
That whether doing, suffering, or forbearing,
You may do miracles by persevering.
25 Last, tho’ not least in love, ye youthful fair,
Angelic forms, high Heaven’s peculiar care!
To you old Bald-Pate smoothes his wrinkled brow,
And humbly begs you’ll mind the important — Now!
To crown your happiness he asks your leave,
30 And offers, bliss to give and to receive.
For our sincere, tho’ haply weak endeavours,
With grateful pride we own your many favours;
And howsoe’er our tongues may ill reveal it,
Believe our glowing bosoms truly feel it.
George Sutherland was manager of the Dumfries Theatre (the old theatre referred to here no longer exists, but the new theatre subscribed for during 1790 still stands). Burns got in touch with Sutherland, knowing the theatre was playing on New Year’s Day, 1790, and enclosed an early draft of the above. The poet appears to have been in the audience that evening and wrote to his brother Gilbert on 11th January, 1790, remarking ‘On Newyearday evening I gave him the following Prologue which he spouted to his Audience with great applause’ (Letter 381).
Johnie Cope
First printed in S.M.M., Vol. 3, 1790.
Sir John Cope trod the north right far
Yet ne’er a rebel he cam naur, near
Until he landed at Dunbar
Right early in the morning.
Chorus
5 Hey Johnie Cope are ye waulking yet, wakened
Or are ye sleeping I would wit;
O haste ye get up for the drums do beat,
O fye Cope rise in the morning.
He wrote a challenge from Dunbar,
10 Come fight me Charlie an ye daur; dare
If it be not by the chance of war
I’ll give you a merry morning.
Hey Johnie Cope &c.
When Charlie look’d the letter upon
He drew his sword the scabbard from —
15 ‘So Heaven restore me to my own,
I’ll meet you, Cope, in the morning’.
Hey Johnie Cope &c.
Cope swore with many a bloody word
That he would fight them gun and sword,
But he fled from his nest like an ill scar’d bird,
20 And Johnie he took wing in the morning.
Hey Johnie Cope &c.
It was upon an afternoon,
Sir Johnie march’d to Preston town;
He says, my lads come lean you down,
And we’ll fight the boys in the morning.
Hey Johnie Cope &c.
25 But when he saw the Highland lads
Wi’ tartan trews and white cokauds, cockades/white rose
Wi swords and guns and rungs and gauds, cudgels, goads
O Johnie he took wing in the morning.
Hey Johnie Cope &c.
On the morrow when he did rise,
30 He look’d between him and the skies;
He saw them wi their naked thighs,
Which fear’d him in the morning.
Hey Johnie Cope &c.
O then he flew into Dunbar,
Crying for a man of war; ship
35 He thought to have pass’d for a rustic tar, sailor
And gotten awa in the morning. away
Hey Johnie Cope &c.
Sir Johnie into Berwick rade, rode
Just as the devil had been his guide;
Gien him the warld he would na stay’d given, world, not
40 To foughten the boys in the morning. fight
Hey Johnie Cope &c.
Says the Berwickers unto Sir John,
O what’s become of all your men,
In faith, says he, I dinna ken, do not know
I left them a’ this morning.
Hey Johnie Cope &c.
45 Says Lord Mark Car, ye are na blate, not shy
To bring us the news o’ your ain defeat; own
I think you deserve the back o’ the gate,
Get out o’ my sight this morning.
Hey Johnie Cope &c.
This is the poet’s reworked version of an old, popular Jacobite ballad, most of which is traditional. Johnie Cope was Sir John Cope, General of the Hanoverian army defeated at the battle of Preston-pans in 1745 by the Jacobites.
O Dear Minny, What Shall I Do?
First printed in S.M.M. Vol. 3, 1790.
O de
ar Minny, what shall I do?
O dear Minny, what shall I do?
O dear Minny, what shall I do?
Daft thing, doylt thing, do as I do. — stupid
5 If I be black, I canna be lo’ed; cannot, loved
If I be fair, I canna be gude;
If I be lordly, the lads will look by me:
O dear Minny, what shall I do. —
O dear Minny, &c.
Burns adapted this woman’s song from a lyric in Herd’s 1769 collection.
I’ll Make You be Fain to Follow Me
First printed in S.M.M. Vol. 3, 1790.
Tune: I’ll Make You be Fain to Follow Me
As late by a sodger I chanced to pass, soldier
I heard him a courtin a bony young lass;
My hinny, my life, my dearest, quo he, darling
I’ll mak you be fain to follow me.
Gin I should follow you, a poor sodger lad, if
Ilk ane o my cummers wad think I was mad; each, one, wenches, would
For battles I never shall lang to see, long
I’ll never be fain to follow thee. glad
To follow me, I think ye may be glad,
A part o my supper, a part o my bed,
A part o my bed, wherever it be,
I’ll mak you be fain to follow me. glad
Come try my knapsack on your back,
Alang the king’s high-gate we’ll pack; along
Between Saint Johnston and bony Dundee, Perth