THE JOYFUL WIDOWER.

TUNE-Maggy Lauder.

[This is song 98 in Johnson. No author's name is attached to it, and no one, from internal evidence, could ever judge it to be the work of Burns; but it would seem that the verses were furnished by our poet, and that the MS. is still in existence. Mr. Stenhouse explicitly tells us that it is the work of Burns. There is a verse on the same subject, and similarly treated, in "Yair's Charmer" (1751, Vol. I.,) with Charles Coffee's name attached:

"Ye gods, you gave to me a wife,

Out of your grace and favour,
To be the comfort of my life,

And I was glad to have her:
But if your providence divine,
For greater bliss design her,
To obey your will, at any time,
I'm ready to resign her!"]

I MARRIED With a scolding wife
The fourteenth of November;
She made me weary of my life,
By one unruly member.
Long did I bear the heavy yoke,
And many griefs attended;
But, to my comfort be it spoke,
Now, now her life is ended.

We liv'd full one-and-twenty years,
A man and wife together;
At length from me her course she steer'd,
And gone I know not whither:
Would I could guess, I do profess,

I speak and do not flatter,
Of all the women in the world,
I never would come at her.

Her body is bestowed well,

A handsome grave does hide her;

But sure her soul is not in hell,

The deil would ne'er abide her.

I rather think she is aloft,
And imitating thunder,

For why, methinks I hear her voice
Tearing the clouds asunder.

BONIE DUNDEE.

[These euphonious words suggest more than any actual view of that hive of industry itself could do, seen from any point of the compass. Thoughts of old ballad-poetry and primitive melody are wakened up thereby; indeed, in the whole catalogue of Scottish airs, there is not one more deliciously flowing than that of Bonie Dundee-not the tune to which Sir Walter Scott's Bonnets of Bonie Dundee is sung-an excellent air too, yet modern, but the fine old melody which was selected by Hector M'Neil for his ballad, Mary of Castlecary, so frequently produced in popular concerts even yet. Burns was much attached to this tune, and while at the convivial board of an early Edinburgh associate, Mr. Robert Cleghorn, farmer, Saughton Mills, in the spring of 1787, he heard the old song warbled in such a style that he regretted the want of more suitable words, so he took an early opportunity to construct the following sweet verses, in which the opening four lines of the original ballad are preserved. He enclosed the song to Cleghorn, with the following note:-"Dear Cleghorn,-You will see by the above that I have added a stanza to Bonie Dundee. If you think it will do, you may set it agoing

Upon a ten-string'd instrument, and on the Psaltery.'"]

O WHAR did ye get that hauver-meal bannock?
O silly blind body, O dinna ye see;

I gat it frae a young brisk Sodger Laddie,
Between Saint Johnston and bonie Dundee.

O gin I saw the laddie that gae me't!

Aft has he doudl'd me up on his knee;

May Heaven protect my bonie Scots laddie,
And send him safe hame to his babie and me!

My blessin's upon thy sweet, wee lippie!
My blessin's upon thy bonie e'e brie!

Thy smiles are sae like my blythe Sodger laddie,
Thou's ay the dearer, and dearer to me!
But I'll big a bow'r on yon bonie banks,
Whare Tay rins wimplin by sae clear;
And I'll cleed thee in the tartan sae fine,

And mak thee a man like thy daddie dear.

SONGS PRODUCED IN VOL. II. OF "MUSICAL MUSEUM," FEB. 14, 1788.

It may be noted here, that the spirited Preface to Vol. II. of the Museum dated March 1, 1788, bears evident marks of Burns' hand. Notwithstanding that date, however, the poet on 14th Feb., 1788, forwarded a copy to the Rev. John Skinner, and in his accompanying letter he says-"The 2nd volume of the songs I mentioned to you in my last is published to-day. I send you a copy," &c.

TO THE WEAVERS GIN YE GO.

[This is No. 103 of Johnson, without indication of authorship; but the poet says in his MS. notes-"The chorus of this song is old, the rest is mine.Here, once for all, let me apologise for many silly compositions of mine in this work. Many beautiful airs wanted words, and, in the hurry of other avocations, if I could string a parcel of rhymes together anything nearly tolerable, I was fain to let them pass. He must be an excellent poet indeed, whose every performance is excellent."]

My heart was ance as blythe and free
As simmer days were lang,

But a bonie, westlin weaver lad

Has gart me change my sang.

CHORUS.

To the weavers gin ye go, fair maids,
To the weavers gin ye go,

I rede you right, gang ne'er at night,
To the weavers gin ye go.

My mither sent me to the town
To warp a plaiden wab;
But the weary, weary warpin' o't
Has gart me sigh and sab.
To the weavers, &c.

A bonie, westlin weaver lad
Sat working at his loom;
He took my heart as wi' a net
In every knot and thrum.
To the weavers, &c.

I sat beside my warpin'-wheel,
And ay I ca'd it roun';
But every shot and every knock,
My heart it gae a stoun.

To the weavers, &c.

Themoon was sinking in the west
Wi' visage pale and wan,
As my bonie, westlin weaver lad
Convoy'd me thro' the glen.
To the weavers, &c.

But what was said, or what was done,
Shame fa' me gin I tell;

But Oh! I fear the kintra soon

Will ken as weel's mysel❜!
To the weavers, &c.

WHISTLE, AN' I'LL COME TO YOU, MY LAD.

[This is the first sketch of one of Burns' most popular songs. Here he contents himself with stringing away at one line in the second half of the stanza, to fill up the measure of the tune; but in August, 1793, he resumed the theme and worked out the song, for George Thomson's collection, in a most satisfactory manner.]

O WHISTLE, an' I'll come to you, my lad;

O whistle, an' I'll come to you, my lad:

Though father and mither should baith gae mad,
O whistle, an' I'll come to you, my lad.

Come down the back stairs when ye come to court me;
Come down the back stairs when ye come to court me;
Come down the back stairs, and let naebody see;
And come as ye were na coming to me,

And come as ye were na coming to me.

I'M O'ER YOUNG TO MARRY YET.

[The author's note is as follows:-"The chorus of this song is old; the rest of it, such as it is, is mine." The air is very sprightly and characteristic, and the song, having been dressed up a little since Burns' time, to suit polite ears, became very popular by the singing of opera favourites some thirty years ago, and still keeps its place.]

I AM my mammy's ae bairn,
Wi' unco folk I weary, Sir,
And lying in a man's bed,

I'm fley'd it make me eerie, Sir.

CHORUS.

I'm o'er young, I'm o'er young,
I'm o'er young to marry yet;
I'm o'er young, 'twad be a sin

To tak me frae my mammy yet.

Hallowmass is come and gane,
The nights are lang in winter, Sir;
And you an' I in ae bed,

In trowth, I dare na venture, Sir,
I'm o'er young, &c.

Fu' loud and shill the frosty wind
Blaws thro' the leafless timmer, Sir;

But if ye come this gate again,
I'll aulder be gin simmer, Sir.

I'm o'er young, &c.