Mild be the sun on this sweet-blushing Flower, 0 spare the dear blossom, ye orient breezes, With chill, hoary wing as ye usher the dawn! And far be thou distant, thou reptile that seizes The verdure and pride of the garden or lawn! Let Bourbon exalt in his gay, gilded Lilies, DUNCAN GRAY. [Had this song not found its way into some editions of the poet's works, we would have been disposed to omit it, as there is no mark to indicate his authorship, and Stenhouse describes it as "taken from the old song, with considerable alterations by Burns." In 1792, he took up the theme in real earnest, and produced, for George Thomson's work, a comic effusion of undying celebrity, which has extinguished the old song.] WEARY fa' you, Duncan Gray- Wae gae by you, Duncan Gray- When a' the lave gae to their play, Bonie was the Lammas moon- ; The girdin brak, the beast cam down, But, Duncan, gin ye'll keep your aith- Ise bless you wi' my hindmost breath- Duncan, gin ye'll keep your aith, The beast again can bear us baith, And auld Mess John will mend the skaith, THE PLOUGHMAN. [The present version is by no means an improvement on the fine old song of same title in Herd's second volume, p. 144. Stenhouse remarks thus:-" The last verse should be deleted in future editions, as it conveys a double meaning, and destroyes the effect of a song which, in every other respect, is very fine and unexceptionable. This is one of those few things which Burns hinted to Johnson might be amended if the work were to begin again."] THE Ploughman he's a bonie lad, CHORUS. Then up wi't a', my Ploughman lad, I hae been east, I hae been west, Snaw-white stockings on his legs, Commend me to the Barn-yard, LANDLADY, COUNT THE LAWIN. TUNE-Hey Tutti, Taiti. [The poet remarks-"I have met the tradition universally over Scotland, and particularly about Stirling-the neighbourhood of the scene that this air was Robert the Bruce's March at the Battle of Bannockburn." Stenhouse tells us that these two verses were composed by Burns. The reader will understand that it was to this noble trumpet-air that the poet, in September, 1793, composed his immortal "Bruce's Address."] LANDLADY, count the lawin, CHORUS. Hey tutti, taiti, Cog, an ye were ay fou, This verse is the counterpart of another stanza which Burns is understood to have added to the old song "Carle, now the King's come:" "Coggie, an the King come, RAVING WINDS AROUND HER BLOWING. TUNE-M'Gregor of Roro's Lament. [Burns' note on this song is as follows:-"I composed these verses on Miss Isabella M'Leod of Raasay, alluding to her feelings on the death of her sister, and the still more melancholy death (in 1786) of her sister's husband, the late Earl of Loudoun, who shot himself out of sheer heart-break at some mortifications he suffered owing to the deranged state of his finances." The poet had a high opinion of the present lyric, as the following characteristic passage in his letter to Mrs. Dunlop, dated 16th August, 1788, sufficiently proves:-"I was, yesterday, at Dalswinton House to dinner, for the first time. My reception was quite to my mind: from the lady of the house quite flattering. She sometimes hits on a couplet or two, impromptu, and she repeated some of these to the admiration of all present. My suffrage as a professional man was expected: I for once went agonizing over the belly of my conscience. Pardon me, ye, my adored household gods, independence of spirit, and integrity of soul! In the course of conversation 'Johnson's Musical Museum,' a collection of Scottish songs with music, was talked of. We got a song on the harpsichord, beginning— 'Raving winds around her blowing." The air was much admired: the lady of the house asked me whose were the words. 'Mine, Madam-they are indeed my very best verses: she took not the smallest notice of them! The Scottish proverb says well, King's caff is better than ither folk's corn. I was going to make a New-Testament quotation about 'casting pearls,' but that would be too virulent, for the lady is actually a woman of sense and taste."] RAVING winds around her blowing, Farewell, hours that late did measure O'er the Past too fondly wandering, HOW LONG AND DREARY IS THE NIGHT. A Gaelic Air. [This song was written by Burns in 1787, to suit one of those Gaelic melodies which he picked up during his Highland tour. In October, 1794, he altered the song for George Thomson, adding a chorus, to fit the air of Cauld Kail; but he thereby effected no improvement, for the Gaelic air agrees much better with the plaintive subject of the song. In the third line of the closing verse, owing to the omission of a comma, or perhaps a dash after the word "sae"--both in Johnson and in Currie (followed in every subsequent edition), the sense of the verse has been lost. The Scots verb, to glint, is to pass swiftly by like a gleam of light; but by omitting the pause after "sae," the word "glint" would seem to mean the very opposite. We therefore gladly adopt the necessary punctuation.] How long and dreary is the night, When I think on the happy days And now what lands, &c. How slow ye move, ye heavy hours, MUSING ON THE ROARING OCEAN. TUNE-Druimion dubh. This is another of the songs which Burns produced in order to preserve a Gaelic air picked up by him in the North Highlands. He notes thus regarding it:-"I composed these verses out of compliment to a Mrs. Maclachlan, whose husband is an officer in the East Indies."] MUSING on the roaring ocean, Which divides my love and me! |