MY WIFE SHE DANG ME.

On

peace and rest my

mind was bent,

And, fool I was, I married;

But never an honest man's intent

Sae cursedly miscarried!

For aye my wife she dang me,
And aye my wife did bang me:
O if ye gie a woman her will,

Gude sooth, she'll soon o'ergang ye!

Nae fairer face looks to the sun,
Nae eye has glances brighter;

Nae foot's mair gladsome in the dance,-
I wish her hand were lighter!

And aye my wife she dang me,
And sair my wife did wrang me:
O if ye gie a woman her will,

Gude faith, she'll soon o'ergang ye!

There is some comfort still in hope,-
When sorrow's days are done, man,
My pains of hell on earth have past,
Then welcome bliss aboon, man!
And aye my wife she dang me,
And aye my wife did bang me:
O if ye gie a woman her will,

Gude faith, she'll soon o'ergang ye!

VOL. III.

D

I found two of these verses in the Musical Museum; the chorus is old, the rest of the song is modern. An old song of the same name was once well known, and some fragments are not yet forgotten; though I know of no relics of ancient song which merit oblivion more.

MY LOVE SHE LIVES IN LAUDERDALE.

My love she lives in Lauderdale,
And I'm a fiddler fine;

I played at her bower window,
And drank her health in wine.
She fleeched me an' she floyted me,
As gin I'd been her brither;
But I maun rin frae Lauderdale,
Fiddle and a' thegither.

There's no a lad in Lauderdale,

Nor yet in a' the land,

That witched the maidens' feet like me,

Or drew sic a bow-hand:

My gude bow-hand has lost its craft,

And tint the charm for ever;

And I maun rin frae Lauderdale,
Fiddle and a' thegither.

When first I came to Lauderdale,

"Twas at the Lammas-term,

I drew a bow-a nobler bow
Was never drawn on thairm!
But wae gae by the wanton dance
That makes a maid a mither!-
Now I maun rin frae Lauderdale,
Fiddle and a' thegither.

There is an old popular ditty, exceedingly lively and very coarse, bearing the same name with this song, and containing many lines in common, which may be known to some of my less fastidious readers. In sobering down the levities of the old lyric, I have sought to preserve some of its freedom and animation; and though I have changed the meaning, I hope I have preserved all that any one would think worthy of preservation. I shall not say where I found the original song-it was in very wild company.

THE BRAES OF BRANKSOME.

As I came in by Teviot-side,

A

And by the braes of Branksome,
There first I saw my bonny bride,
Young, smiling, sweet, and handsome;
Her skin was safter than the down,
And white as alabaster;

Her hair a shining wavy brown;

In straightness nane surpass'd her;"

Life glow'd upon her lip and cheek,
Her clear een were surprising,
And beautifully turn'd her neck,
Her little breasts just rising:
Nae silken hose, with gooshets fine,
Or shoon with glancing laces,
On her bare leg, forbade to shine
Well shapen native graces.

Ae little coat, and bodice white,
Was sum of a' her claithing;
Even thae's o'er meikle; mair delyte
She'd given cled wi' naithing:
She lean'd upon a flow'ry brae,

By which a burnie trotted;
On her I glowr'd my soul away,
While on her sweets I doted.

A thousand beauties of desert

Before had scarce alarm'd me,

Till this dear artless struck my heart,
And, but designing, charm'd me.
Hurried by love, close to my breast
I grasp'd this fund of blisses,

Who smil'd, and said, Without a priest,
Sir, hope for nought but kisses.

I had nae heart to do her harm,
And yet I cou'dna want her;
What she demanded, ilka charm

Of her's pled, I shou'd grant her.
Since heaven had dealt to me a routh,
Straight to the kirk I led her,

There plighting her my faith and trouth,
And a young lady made her.

The popular song of "The Braes of Branksome" first appeared under the name of "The Generous Gentleman” in Allan Ramsay's collection, accompanied by instructions to sing it to the tune of "The Bonnie Lass of Branksome." The name of the tune seems part of an old song, of which I regret the loss, since I imagine it commemorated the beauty of one of the ladies of Branksome, whose reputation for loveliness is of old standing. How much or how little of the ancient strain found its way into this modern composition it is now impossible to know, but the song wants no old associations to render it attractive: it is a general favourite. The freedom