by Robert Burns
The Lass o’ Ecclefechan
Tune: Jack o Latin
First printed in Johnson, 1796.
Gat ye me, O, gat ye me, got
Gat ye me wi’ naething, nothing
Rock an’ reel and spinning wheel
A mickle quarter basin. large
5 Bye attour, my Gutcher has in addition, grandfather
A hich house and a laigh ane, high, low one
A’ for bye my bonnie sel, self
The toss o’ Ecclefechan. — toast
O haud your tongue now Luckie Laing, hold
10 O haud your tongue and jauner; hold, idle talk
I held the gate till you I met, was celibate
Syne I began to wander: then
I tint my whistle and my sang, lost, song
I tint my peace and pleasure; lost
15 But your green graff, now Luckie Laing, grave
Wad airt me to my treasure. would direct/lead
This was unsigned in the S.M.M. It was first attributed to Burns in Cunningham’s 1834 edition. Aware that Burns copied a bawdy version of this song for the Merry Muses, Cunningham assumed this work to be a cleaned-up version of the original. It does exist in the Hastie manuscripts, which tends to support Cunningham’s case.
The Couper o’ Cuddy
Tune: Bab at the Bowster
First printed in Johnson, 1796.
The Couper o’ Cuddy cam here awa, cooper, about here
He ca’d the girrs out o’er us a’; threw hoops, all
An’ our guidwife has gotten a ca’, call
That’s anger’d the silly guidman O. — husband
Chorus
5 We’ll hi de the Couper behint the door,
Behint the door, behint the door;
We’ll hide the couper behint the door,
And cover him under a mawn O. — basket
He sought them out, he sought them in,
10 Wi’, deil hae her!’ and, deil hae him! devil have
But the body he was sae doited and blin’, stupid, blind
He wist na where he was gaun O. — knew not, going
We’ll hide &c.
They couper’d at e’en, they couper’d at morn, evening
Till our guidman has gotten the scorn;
15 On ilka brow she’s planted a horn, each, cuckold’s horn
And swears that there they sall stan’ O. — shall stand
We’ll hide &c.
This, like The Lass o’ Ecclefechan, is included in the Hastie manuscripts, from which it is given as a work of Burns. However, given that it is unsigned in the S.M.M. it is at best a work he modified. An even bawdier version, Cuddy the Cooper, is in The Merry Muses.
Leezie Lindsay
First printed in Jamieson, 1806.
Will ye go to the Highlands Leezie Lindsay,
Will ye go to the Highlands wi’ me;
Will ye go to the Highlands Leezie Lindsay,
My pride and my darling to be.
This fragment was sent by Burns to Johnson who did not print it. The whole ballad was first printed in 1806. The song, now popular due to the success of the folk duo The Corries, is supposed to have been collected by Burns. His part in the lyric is usually quoted as the above.
For the Sake o’ Somebody
First printed in Johnson, 1796.
My heart is sair, I dare na tell, sore, not
My heart is sair for Somebody; sore
I could wake a winter-night
For the sake o’ Somebody. —
5 Oh-hon! for Somebody!
Oh-hey! for Somebody!
I could range the world round,
For the sake o’ Somebody. —
Ye Powers that smile on virtuous love,
10 O, sweetly smile on Somebody!
Frae ilka danger keep him free, from every
And send me safe my Somebody. —
Oh-hon! for Somebody!
Oh-hey! for Somebody!
15 I wad do — what wad I not — would
For the sake o’ Somebody!
This was signed ‘B’ in the S.M.M. Burns took and adapted a lyric in Ramsay’s Tea-Table Miscellany, Vol. 1. The repetitive ‘somebody’ is, of course, Bonnie Prince Charlie, who politically was unnameable after the 1745 rebellion.
The Cardin O’t
Tune: Queensberry’s Scots Measure
First printed in Johnson, 1796.
I coft a stane o’ haslock woo, bought, 14lbs, soft wool
To mak a wab to Johnie o’t; web
For Johnie is my onlie jo, darling
I lo’e him best of onie yet. — love, any
Chorus
5 The cardin o’t, the spinnin o’t,
The warpin o’t, the winnin o’t; rolling, drying
When ilka ell cost me a groat, each yard, fourpence
The tailor staw the lynin o’t. — stole
For tho’ his locks be lyart gray, withered
10 And tho’ his brow be beld aboon, bald above
Yet I hae seen him on a day have
The pride of a’ the parishon. — parish around
The cardin o’t &c.
This was signed ‘Z’ in the S.M.M. It is an old song modified by Burns. Cunningham suggests, in error, that it is completely by Burns.
The Sutors o’ Selkirk
First printed in Johnson, 1796.
IT’S up wi’ the Sutors o’ Selkirk, cobblers
And down wi’ the Earl o’ Hume;
And here is to a’ the braw laddies fine
That wear the single sol’d shoon: soled shoes
Its up wi’ the Sutors o’ Selkirk,
For they are baith trusty and leal; both, true
And up wi’ the lads o’ the Forest,
And down wi’ the Merse to the deil. — devil
This song is based on a group of cobblers from Selkirk who fought for James IV at Flodden, 1513. The defeat was blamed on the Earl of Hume (l.2). The forest (l. 7) is Etterick Forest in the Borders and the Merse (l. 8) refers to a county in Berwickshire.
Tibbie Fowler
First printed in Johnson, 1796.
Tibbie Fowler o’ the glen,
There’s o’er mony wooin at her, chasing after
Tibbie Fowler o’ the glen,
There’s o’er mony wooin at her. too many
Chorus
5 Wooin at her, pu’in at her, pulling
Courtin at her, canna get her: cannot
Filthy elf, it’s for her pelf, money
That a’ the lads are wooin at her. all
Ten cam east, and ten cam west, came
10 Ten cam rowin o’er the water;
Twa came down the lang dyke side, two, long wall
There’s twa and thirty wooin at her. two
Wooin at her, &c.
There’s seven but, and seven ben, outside, inside
Seven in the pantry wi’ her;
15 Twenty head about the door, at
There’s ane and forty wooin at her. one
Wooin at her &c.
She’s got pendles in her lugs, pendants, ears
Cockle-shells wad set her better; would suit
High-heel’d shoon and siller tags, shoes, silver
20 And a’ the lads are wooin at her.
Wooin at her &c.
Be a lassie e’er sae black, ever so
An she hae the name o’ siller, have, money
Set her upo’ Tintock-tap, hill top
The wind will blaw a man till her. blow, to her
Wooing at her &c.
25 Be a lassie e’er sae fair, ever so
And she want the pennie siller, lack silver
A flie may fell her in the air, fly, kill
Before a man be even till her.
Wooin at her &c.
Burns collected this old ballad, improved the original and added some new stanzas. Two fragments of the old song exist in the Herd manuscript collection. The ‘Tintock-tap’, l. 23 refers to
the Tinto Hill, a peak in Lanarkshire above 2000 ft.
There’s Three True Gude Fellows
Tune: Three Gude Fellows Ayont the Glen
First printed in Johnson, 1796.
There’s three true gude fellows, good
There’s three true gude fellows,
There’s three true gude fellows
Down ayont yon glen. beyond that
It’s now the day is dawin, dawning
But or night do fa’ in, before nightfall
Whase cock’s best at crawin, whose, crowing
Willie thou sall ken. shall know
This song is the product of a promise Burns made to his Edinburgh friend Alexander Cunningham, that he would write a song on Cunningham, Robert Cleghorn and William Dunbar, all members of the Crochallan Fencibles (See Letter 336).
The Lass that Made the Bed
First printed in Johnson, 1796.
WHEN Januar wind was blawin cauld, blowing cold
As to the North I took my way,
The mirksome night did me enfauld, darksome, enfold
I knew na where to lodge till day. not
5 By my gude luck a maid I met good
Just in the middle o’ my care;
And kindly she did me invite
To walk into a chamber fair. —
I bow’d fu’ low unto this maid, full/well
10 And thank’d her for her courtesie;
I bow’d fu’ low unto this maid,
An’ bade her mak a bed to me. —
She made the bed baith large and wide, both
Wi’ twa white hands she spread it down; two
15 She put the cup to her rosy lips,
And drank, ‘Young man now sleep ye soun’.’ — sound
She snatch’d the candle in her hand,
And frae my chamber went wi’ speed; from
But I call’d her quickly back again
20 To lay some mair below my head.— more
A cod she laid below my head, pillow
And servèd me with due respeck; respect
And to salute her wi’ a kiss,
I put my arms about her neck.—
25 Haud aff your hands young man, she says, hold off
And dinna sae uncivil be: do not so
Gif ye hae onie luve for me, if, have any
O wrang na my virginitie!— wrong not
Her hair was like the links o’ gowd, gold
30 Her teeth were like the ivorie,
Her cheeks like lilies dipt in wine,
The lass that made the bed to me. —
Her bosom was the driven snaw, snow
Twa drifted heaps sae fair to see; two, so
35 Her limbs the polish’d marble stane, stone
The lass that made the bed to me.—
I kiss’d her o’er and o’er again,
And ay she wist na what to say; knew not
I laid her ’tween me an’ the wa’, wall
40 The lassie thocht na lang till day.— thought it not long
Upon the morrow when we rase,
I thank’d her for her courtesie:
But ay she blush’d, and ay she sigh’d,
And said, Alas, ye’ve ruin’d me. —
45 I clasp’d her waist, and kiss’d her syne, then
While the tear stood twinklin in her e’e; eye
I said, My lassie, dinna cry, do not
For ye ay shall mak the bed to me.— always
She took her mither’s holland sheets mother’s, fine linen
50 An’ made them a’ in sarks to me: shirts
Blythe and merry may she be,
The lass that made the bed to me. —
The bonie lass made the bed to me,
The braw lass made the bed to me; fine
55 I’ll ne’er forget till the day I die
The lass that made the bed to me. —
Although Johnson printed this song as ‘Written for this work by Robert Burns’ it is not completely original. It is based upon an old lyric, Cumberland Nelly, sometimes called The North County Lovers, from the Pepys collection. (See Henley–Henderson, Vol. III, p. 420). Burns did not only preserve Scots songs in the Museum collection, but, as in this case, turned traditional English lyrics into Scots.
Sae Far Awa
Tune: Dalkeith Maiden Bridge
First printed in Johnson, 1796.
O SAD and heavy should I part,
But for her sake sae far awa; so, away
Unknowing what my way may thwart,
My native land sae far awa.—
5 Thou that of a’ things Maker art, all
That formed this Fair sae far awa,
Gie body strength, then I’ll ne’er start give
At this my way sae far awa.
How true is love to pure desert,
10 So love to her, sae far awa,
And nocht can heal my bosom’s smart, nothing
While Oh, she is sae far awa.—
Nane other love, nane other dart, no
I feel, but hers sae far awa; so
15 But fairer never touched a heart,
Than hers, the Fair sae far awa.—
This was signed ‘B’ in the S.M.M. There is no evidence among the poet’s letters to suggest a heroine of the song existed.
The Reel o’ Stumpie
Tune: The Reel o’ Stumpie.
First printed in Johnson, 1796.
WAP and row, wap and row, wrap, roll
Wap and row the feetie o’t, feet
I thought I was a maiden fair,
Till I heard the greetie o’t. crying
My daddie was a Fiddler fine,
My minnie she made mantie O; mother, a dress maker
And I myself a thumpin quine, strapping lassie
And danc’d the Reel o’ Stumpie O.
This was unsigned in the S.M.M. It is based upon the bawdy lyric preserved in the Merry Muses of Caledonia.
The Rantin Laddie –
First printed in Johnson, 1796.
Aften hae I play’d at the cards and the dice, often have
For the love of a rantin laddie;
But now I maun sit at my father’s kitchen neuk, must, corner
Below a bastart babie.—
5 For my father he will not me own,
And my mother she neglects me,
And a’ my friends hae lightlyed me, have slandered
And their servants they do slight me.—
But had I a servant at my command,
10 As aft-times I’ve had many, oft-
That wad rin wi’ a letter to bonie Glenswood, would run
Wi’ a letter to my rantin laddie.—
Oh, is he either a laird, or a lord,
Or is he but a cadie, rascal
15 That ye do him ca’ sae aft by name, call so often
Your bonie, bonie rantin ladie.—
Indeed he is baith a laird and a lord, both
And he was never a cadie; rascal
But he is the Earl o’ bonie Aboyne,
20 And he is my rantin laddie.—
O ye ’se get a servant at your command,
As aft times ye’ve had many, oft
That sall rin wi’ a letter to bonie Glenswood, shall run
A letter to your rantin laddie.—
25 When lord Aboyne did letter get,
O but he blinket bonie; glanced well
But or he read three lines of it, by the time
I think his heart was sorry.—
O wha is he daur be sae bauld, who, dare, so bold
30 Sae cruelly to use my lassie? so
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
For her father he will not her know
And her mother she does slight her,
35 And a’ her friend hae lightlyed her, have slandered
And their servants they neglect her.—
Go raise to me five hundred m
en,
Make haste and make them ready;
With a milkwhite steed under every ane, one
40 For to bring hame my lady.— home
As they cam in thro Buchan shire,
They were a company bonie,
With a gude claymore in every hand, good
And O, but they shin’d bonie.— shone
This is a song collected and only marginally improved by Burns from the original song, Lord Aboyne. Burns may have picked it up during his 1787 visit to the north-east of Scotland, or in Dumfries from one of the Highland soldiers in barracks there during the mid- 1790s.
O May, Thy Morn
Tune: The Rashes
First printed in Johnson, 1796.
O May, thy morn was ne’er sae sweet, so
As the mirk night o’ December; dark
For sparkling was the rosy wine,
And private was the chamber:
5 And dear was she, I dare na name, not
But I will ay remember.— always