IT IS NA, JEAN, THY BONNIE FACE.

Tune-" The Maid's complaint."

I.

It is na, Jean, thy bonnie face,
Nor shape that I admire,
Altho' thy beauty and thy grace
Might weel awake desire.
Something, in ilka part o' thee,
To praise, to love, I find;
But dear as is thy form to me,
Still dearer is thy mind.

II.

Nae mair ungen'rous wish I hae,
Nor stronger in my breast,
Than if I canna mak thee sae,

At least to see thee blest.
Content am I, if heaven shall give
But happiness to thee:

And as wi' thee I'd wish to live,

For thee I'd bear to die.

These verses were originally in English: Burns bestowed a Scottish dress upon them, and made them utter sentiments connected with his own affections. They were printed in the Museum: the air was composed by Oswald, and is one of his finest.

O SAW YE MY DEARIE.

Tune-" Eppie Macnab."

I.

O saw ye my dearie, my Eppie M'Nab?
O saw ye my dearie, my Eppie M'Nab?
She's down in the yard, she's kissin' the laird,
She winna come hame to her ain Jock Rab.
O come thy ways to me, my Eppie M'Nab!
O come thy ways to me, my Eppie M'Nab!
Whate'er thou hast done, be it late, be it soon,
Thou's welcome again to thy ain Jock Rab.

II.

What says she, my dearie, my Eppie M'Nab?
What says she, my dearie, my Eppie M'Nab?
She lets thee to wit, that she has thee forgot,
And for ever disowns thee, her ain Jock Rab.
O had I ne'er seen thee, my Eppie M'Nab!
O had I ne'er seen thee, my Eppie M‘Nab!
As light as the air, and fause as thou's fair,
Thou's broken the heart o' thy ain Jock Rab.

As the old song of Eppie Macnab had more wit than decency, Burns took compassion on the air, and wrote these words-none of his happiest-for the Museum. There is something truly whimsical and original in the idea of many of our old songs. Eppie Macnab is not an exception. Verses of later minstrels on this subject

are not scarce :

"O come now, my dearie,

My Eppie Macnab !
I'm wae and I'm weary

For Eppie Macnab.-
Gae dance on the win',

Gae loup down the linn,
For me thou'lt ne'er win-
Take ye that, Jock Rab.
"O had I ne'er seen thee,
My Eppie Macnab!
O had I ne'er seen thee,
My Eppie Macnab !-
Thou'rt light as the air,
And fauser than fair,
And will never see mair

O thy ain Jock Rab."

The mirthsome or the ludicrous suits the names of the heroine and hero better than the staid or the pathetic.

WHA IS THAT AT MY BOWER-DOOR?

Tune-" Lass an' I come near thee."

I.

WHA is that at my bower-door?
O, wha is it but Findlay?

Then gae your gate, ye'se no be here!-
Indeed, maun I, quo' Findlay.

What mak ye sae like a thief?

O come and see, quo' Findlay;
Before the morn ye'll work mischief;
Indeed will I, quo' Findlay.

II.

Gif I rise and let you in ?—

Let me in, quo' Findlay ;

Ye'll keep me waukin wi' your din;
Indeed will I, quo' Findlay.

In my bower if you should stay?
Let me stay, quo' Findlay;
I fear ye'll bide till break o' day;
Indeed will I, quo' Findlay.

III.

Here this night if ye remain ;

I'll remain, quo' Findlay;
I dread ye'll learn the gate again;
Indeed will I, quo' Findlay.

What may pass within this bower,-
Let it pass, quo' Findlay ;

Ye maun conceal till your last hour;
Indeed will I, quo' Findlay!

The air to which this song is set had other words formerly-words which make the gravity of our forefathers a little questionable; some of the lines may be acceptable as a sample:

"Lass an I come near thee,

Lass an I come near thee,
I'll gaur a' thy ribbons reel,

Lass an I come near thee."

The "Auld Man's Address to the Widow," printed in Ramsay's Tea-table Miscellany, is said by Gilbert Burns to have suggested "Wha is that at my bower-door" to Robert there is no little humour in the old strain:

:

"O who is at my chamber door?
'Fair widow, are ye wauking?'
Auld carle, your suit give o'er,
Your love lies a' in tauking.

Gie me the lad that's young and tight,

Sweet like an April meadow;

'Tis sic as he can bless the sight

And bosom of a widow."

The old wooer is not disconcerted: he artfully lets her hear the chink of gold, and desires his guineas to speak: she suddenly relents, and declares that they express affection better than his tongue.