by Robert Burns
That shall they ilka day. every
45 ‘And mind my word’s now, John o’ Clods,
And tent now wha ye serve; mind, who
Or back ye ’se to the Colonel gang, going
Either to steal or starve.’
Then John o’ Clods he looked up
50 And syne he looked down; then
He looked east, he looked west,
He looked roun’ and roun’.
His bonnet and his rowantree club
Frae either hand did fa’; from, fall
55 Wi’ lifted een and open mouth eyes
He naething said at a’. nothing
At length he found his trembling tongue,
Within his mouth was fauld: — folded
‘Ae silly ward frae me, madam, one, word from
60 Gin I daur be sae bauld. If, dare, so bold
‘Your kye will at nae bidding shite, cattle, no
Let me do what I can;
Your kye will at nae bidding shite
Of onie earthly man. any
65 ‘Tho’ ye are great Lady Glaur-hole,
For a’ your power and art
Tho’ ye are great Lady Glaur-hole,
They winnie let a fart.’ will not
‘Now wae betide thee John o’ Clods! woe
70 An ill death may ye die!
My kye shall at my bidding shite,
And that ye soon shall see.’
Then she’s ta’en Hawkie by the tail,
And wrung wi’ might and main,
75 Till Hawkie rowted through the woods ran
Wi’ agonising pain.
‘Shite, shite, ye bitch,’ Grim Grizzle roar’d,
Till hill and valley rang;
‘And shite, ye bitch,’ the echoes roar’d
80 Lincluden wa’s amang. walls among
This was only partly printed by Hogg and Motherwell in 1834. Henderson and Henley give a fuller version in their notes, with some polite censorship (Vol. III, pp. 459–61). The tale is based on the widow, Mrs Grizzel Young of Lincluden. Burns wrote an explanatory note on the manuscript, ‘Passing lately through Dunblane, while I stopped to refresh my horse, the following ludicrous epitaph, which I pickt up from an old tombstone among the ruins of the ancient Abbey, struck me particularly, being myself a native of Dumfriesshire’.
Hughie Graham
Tune: Druimionn Dudh
First printed in S.M.M., 1792.
Our lords are to the mountains gane, gone
A hunting o’ the fallow deer;
And they hae gripet Hughie Graham grasped
For stealing o’ the Bishop’s mare,
5 And they hae tied him hand and foot, have
And led him up thro’ Stirling town;
The lads and lasses met him there,
Cried, Hughie Graham thou art a loun. — fool
O lowse my right hand free, he says, loosen
10 And put my braid sword in the same; broad
He’s no in Stirling town this day
Daur tell the tale to Hughie Graham. — dare
Up then bespake the brave Whitefoord,
As he sat by the bishop’s knee;
15 Five hundred white stots I’ll gie you, young bullocks, give
If ye’ll let Hughie Graham gae free. — go
O haud your tongue the bishop says, hold
And wi’ your pleadings let me be;
For tho’ ten Grahams were in his coat,
20 Hughie Graham this day shall die. —
Up then bespake the fair Whitfoord,
As she sat by the bishop’s knee;
Five hundred white pence I’ll gie you, give
If ye’ll gie Hughie Graham to me. —
25 O haud your tongue now lady fair, hold
And wi’ your pleading let me be;
Altho’ ten Grahams were in his coat,
It’s for my honor he maun die. — shall
They’ve taen him to the gallows knowe, taken, hill
30 He looked to the gallows tree,
Yet never colour left his cheek,
Nor ever did he blin’ his e’e. — blink, eye
At length he looked round about,
To see what he could spy;
35 And there he saw his auld father, old
And he was weeping bitterly. —
A haud your tongue, my father dear. hold
And wi’ your weeping let it be;
Thy weeping’s sairer on my heart, sorer
40 Than a’ that they can do to me. —
And ye may gie my brother John give
My sword that’s bent in the middle clear,
And let him come at twelve o’clock
And see me pay the bishop’s mare. —
45 And ye may gie my brother James give
My sword that’s bent in the middle brown;
And bid him come at four o’clock
And see his brother Hugh cut down. —
Remember me to Maggy my wife,
50 The niest time ye gang o’er the moor; next, go
Tell her, she staw the bishop’s mare, stole
Tell her, she was the bishop’s whore. —
And ye may tell my kith and kin,
I never did disgrace their blood;
55 And when they meet the bishop’s cloak,
To mak it shorter by the hood. —
Burns comments in the Interleaved Scots Musical Museum that he took this work from oral tradition and made minor improvements to the lyric. His verse is set in Stirling; a few older versions take place in Carlisle. Kinsley states there are ‘marks of literary revision’ (Vol. III, p. 1384). The reference to the Whitefoord family of Ayrshire was inserted by Burns. This ballad has all the stark, intransigent violence we associate with such great Scottish poetry.
Lord Ronald My Son
First printed in S.M.M 1796.
O where hae ye been, Lord Ronald, my son? have
O where hae ye been, Lord Ronald, my son?
I hae been wi’ my sweetheart, mother, make my bed soon; have
For I’m weary wi’ the hunting, and fain wad lay down. — desire to lie down
What got ye frae your sweetheart, Lord Ronald, my son? from
What got ye frae your sweetheart, Lord Ronald, my son?
I hae got deadly poison, mother, make my bed soon;
For life is a burden that soon I’ll lay down. —
Burns abbreviated a longer, traditional ballad Lord Ronald, to make this brief lyric.
Bonie Laddie, Highland Laddie
Tune: The Old Highland Laddie First printed in S.M.M. 1796.
I hae been at Crookieden, have
My bonie laddie, Highland laddie,
Viewing Willie and his men,
My bonie laddie, Highland laddie,
5 There our faes that burnt and slew,
My bonie laddie, Highland laddie,
There at last they gat their due, got
My bonie laddie, Highland laddie.
Satan sits in his black neuk, corner
10 My bonie laddie, Highland laddie,
Breaking sticks to roast the Duke,
My bonie laddie, Highland laddie. —
The bloody monster gae a yell, gave
My bonie laddie, Highland laddie,
15 And loud the laugh gaed round a’ Hell!
My bonie laddie, Highland laddie. —
This is a song reworked by Burns, sent for inclusion in the 1796 edition of S.M.M. Willie (l. 3) and the Duke (l. 11) are both, in this Highland revenge fantasy, Cumberland, the Butcher of Culloden.
Geordie – An Old Ballad
First printed in S.M.M 1796.
There was a battle in the north,
And nobles there was many,
And they hae kill’d Sir Charlie Hay,
And they laid the wyte on Geordie. blame
5 O he has written a lang letter, long
He sent it to his lady;
Ye maun come up to
Enbrugh town must, Edinburgh
To see what words o Geordie.
When first she look’d the letter on,
10 She was baith red and rosy; both
But she had na read a word but twa, not, two
Till she wallow’t like a lily. went pale
Gar get to me my gude grey steed, go, good
My menzie a’ gae wi’ me; armed company all go
15 For I shall neither eat nor drink,
Till Enbrugh town shall see me.
And she has mountit her gude grey steed, mounted, good
Her menzie gaed wi her;
And she did neither eat nor drink
20 Till Enbrugh town did see her.
And first appear’d the fatal block,
And syne the aix to head him; axe, behead
And Geordie cumin down the stair, coming
And bands o’ airn upon him. iron
25 But tho he was chain’d in fetters strang, strong
O’ airn and steel sae heavy, iron, so
There was na ane in a’ the court, not one
Sae braw a man as Geordie. so fine
O she’s down on her bended knee,
30 I wat she’s pale and weary, bet
O pardon, pardon noble king,
And gie me back my Dearie! give
I hae born seven sons to my Geordie dear, have
The seventh ne’er saw his daddie;
35 O pardon, pardon noble king,
Pity a waefu lady! woeful
Gar bid the headin-man make haste! go, axeman
Our king reply’d fu’ lordly:
O noble king, tak a’ that’s mine,
40 But gie me back my Geordie. give
The Gordons cam and the Gordons ran,
And they were stark and steady; strong
And ay the word amang them a’ among
Was, Gordons keep you ready.
45 An aged lord at the king’s right hand
Says, noble king but hear me;
Gar her tell down five thousand pound go
And gie her back her Dearie. give
Some gae her marks, some gae her crowns, give
50 Some gae her dollars many;
And she’s tell’d down five thousand pound
And she’s gotten again her Dearie.
She blinkit blythe in her Geordie’s face, glanced
Says, dear I’ve bought thee, Geordie;
55 But there sud been bluidy bouks on the green, should have, bloody corpses
Or I had tint my laddie. before, lost
He claspit her by the middle sma, clasped, small
And kisst her lips sae rosy; so
The fairest flower o woman-kind
60 Is my sweet, bonie Lady.
Various versions of this ballad existed during Burns’s period. It is generally agreed that this was improved by Burns. Geordie has been identified as either George Gordon, Fourth Earl of Huntly who was apparently imprisoned in Edinburgh castle in 1554, or the Fifth Earl of Huntly who was convicted of treason in 1563. Sir Charles Hay (l. 3) has never been adequately identified.
To John Maxwell, Esq. of Terraughtie on his Birth-Day
First printed with Cromek, 1808.
HEALTH to the Maxwells’ vet’ran Chief!
Health, ay unsour’d by care or grief:
Inspir’d, I turn’d Fate’s sibyl leaf,
This natal morn,
5 I see thy life is stuff o’ prief, substance
Scarce quite half-worn. —
This day thou metes threescore eleven, completes
And I can tell that bounteous Heaven
(The Second-sight, ye ken, is given know
10 To ilka Poet) every
On thee a tack o’ seven times seven lease
Will yet bestow it. —
If envious buckies view wi’ sorrow young people
Thy lengthen’d days on thy blest morrow,
15 May DESOLATION’S lang-teeth’d harrow, long-
Nine miles an hour,
Rake them like Sodom and Gomorrah,
In brunstane stoure. — brimstone dust
But for thy friends, and they are monie, many
20 Baith honest men and lasses bonie, both, bonny
May couthie Fortune, kind and cannie loving, careful
In social glee,
Wi’ mornings blythe and e’enings funny
Bless them and thee: —
25 Fareweel, auld birkie! Lord be near ye, old fellow
And then the Deil, he daur na steer ye: devil, dare not, afflict
Your friends ay love, your foes ay fear ye! always
For me, Shame fa’ me, befall
If neist my heart I dinna wear ye, next, do not
While BURNS they ca’ me! call
John Maxwell was born 7th February 1720 and died 25th January, 1814, 94 yrs old. Although the estate at Terraughty had been in the Maxwell family, it was sold due to financial problems. Maxwell managed to buy back the family estate and by the late 1780s and early 1790s, when Burns met him, he was among the notable landowners of the Dumfries area. One of the manuscripts of this work is dated 10th February, 1792, which indicates composition just after the old man’s 72nd birthday, not the 71st as generally believed.
The Shepherd’s Wife
First printed in S.M.M 1796.
The Shepherd’s wife cries o’er the knowe, hill’s ridge
Will ye come hame, will ye come hame; home
The Shepherd’s wife cries o’er the knowe,
Will ye come hame again een, jo? evening, darling
5 What will I get to my supper,
Gin I come hame, gin I come hame? if, home
What will I get to my supper,
Gin I come hame again een, jo?
Ye’se get a panfu’ o’ plumpin parridge, porridge
10 And butter in them, and butter in them,
Ye’se get a panfu’ o’ plumpin parridge,
Gin ye’ll come hame again een, jo. —
Ha, ha, how! that ’s naething that dow, nothing, of value
I winna come hame, I canna come hame; will not, cannot
15 Ha, ha how! that ’s naething that dow, can
I winna come hame gin een, jo. — at evening
Ha, ha, how! &c.?
The Shepherd’s wife &c.
What will I get &c.
A reekin fat hen, weel fryth’d i’ the pan, cooking, well fried
Gin ye’ll come hame, gin ye’ll come hame,
A reekin fat hen weel fryth’d i’ the pan,
20 Gin ye’ll come hame again een, jo. —
Ha, ha, how! &c.
The Shepherd’s wife &c.
What will I get &c.
A weel made bed and a pair o’ clean sheets, well
Gin ye’ll come hame, gin ye’ll come hame,
A weel made bed and a pair o’ clean sheets,
Gin ye’ll come hame again een, jo. —
Ha, ha, how! &c.
The Shepherd’s wife &c.
What will I get &c.
25 A luving wife in lily-white linens,
Gin ye’ll come hame, gin ye’ll come hame,
A luving wife in lily-white linens.
Gin ye’ll come hame again een, jo. —
Ha, ha, how! that’s something that dow, of value
30 I will come hame, I will come hame;
Ha, ha, how! that’s something that dow,
I will come hame again e’en, jo. —
This was taken and reworked by Burns from a song in Herd’s collection (1769). It again reveals the complete erotic compatibility between Burns and the folk tradition that nourished him, as it did the shepherd of this matrimonial dialogue.
Johnie Blunt
First printed in S.M.M. 1796.
There liv’d a man in yonder glen,
And John Blunt was his name, O;
He maks gude maut, and he brews gude ale, good malt
And bears a wondrous frame, O. —
5 The wind blew in the hallan ae night, porch, one
Fu snell out o’er the moor, O; well bitter
‘Rise up, rise up, auld Luckie,’ he says, old
‘Rise up and bar the door, O’.
They made a paction tween the twa,
10 They made it firm and sure, O,
Whae’er sud speak the foremost word, should
Should rise and bar the door, O.
Three travellers that had tint their gate, lost their way
As thro’ the hills they foor, O, went/fared
15 They airted by the line o light, followed
Fu’ straight to Johnie Blunt’s door, O. — right
They haurl’d auld Luckie out o’ her bed, hurled old
And laid her on the floor, O;
But never a word auld Luckie wad say, would
20 For barrin o the door, O. —
Ye’ve eaten my bread, ye hae drunken my ale, have
And ye’ll mak my auld wife a whore, O — make, old
Aha, Johnie Blunt! ye hae spoke the first word, has
Get up and bar the door, O. —
This work is based on a song in the Herd collection (1769). Johnie Blunt was a proverbial name extensively given to the equivalent of a village idiot during the eighteenth century. However, Johnson alleges, in notes to his index of songs, that Burns based Blunt on a real character who lived in Crawford Muirs.