Hey, ca' through, ca' through, For we ha'e mickle ado; Hey, ca' through, ca' through, For we ha'e mickle ado. We ha'e tales to tell, And we ha'e sangs to sing; We ha'e pennies to spend, And we ha'e pints to bring. Hey, ca' through, &c. We'll live a' our days, And them that come behin', And spend the gear they win. THE GALLANT WEAVER. [The following was written in good-humoured derision of one Robert Wilson, a weaver, who vainly strove to pay his addresses to Jean Armour, when she was under a cloud, and separated from Burns, and residing for a while in her relative Purdie's house in Paisley.] Tune-"The Weaver's March." O, I had wooers aught or nine, My daddie signed my tocher-band, THE bairns gat out wi' an unco shout, The deuks dang o'er my daddie, O! The fient ma care, quo' the feirie auld wife, He was but a paidlin' body, O! He paidles out, an' he paidles in, An' he paidles late an' early, O! Whae'er ye be that woman love, Nae ferlie 't is though fickle she prove, A woman has 't by kind: O woman lovely, woman fair! Thae seven lang years I ha'e lien by his T wad been o'er meikle to gi'en thee side, mair I mean an angel mind. THE DE'IL'S AWA' WI' TH' EXCISEMAN. [The following was composed under great irritation, and upon. the spur of the moment, on the 28th of February, 1792. Burns, on this occasion, had been kept loitering for hours upon the shores of the Solway, watching, in his capacity as an exciseman, a suspicious-looking craft (a smuggling brig as it soon proved to be), which had been sighted overnight, and deemed worthy of observation. Left there with only two or three men, to the end that they might be on the alert as to the vessel's movements, he chafed and fretted at the delay of his brother officer Lewars, who, a weary while before, had gone to Dumfries to obtain the help of a party of dragoons. Hearing Burns in his impatience give utterance to some expletive on his friend, one of his fellows responded by wishing aloud that the devil had him for his pains, hinting that the Poet would do well if he strung the dilatory Lewars up in a line or two, en revanche. According to Lockhart's account of the incident, Burns said nothing in reply, but, striding apart for a few minutes among the reeds and shingle, soon afterwards rejoined The de'il's awa', the de'il's awa', NESS. his party, whom he convulsed with laughter by THE LOVELY LASS OF INVERchanting to them this literally devil-may-care ditty on their sluggish comrade. Very shortly after this, Lewars arriving with the dragoons, Burns, sword in hand, was among the first to leap on board the brig among the smugglers.] Tune-"The de'il cam' fiddling through the town." [The subjoined verses were written by Burns immediately after his Highland tour with Nicol, in the September of 1787, when the Poet visited the fatal field of Culloden, where, on the 16th of April, 1746, the Young Chevalier, at THE de'il cam' fiddling through the the head of his five thousand Highlanders, had town, And danced awa' wi' th' Exciseman, And ilka wife cries-"Auld Mahoun, I wish you luck o' the prize, man!" The de'il 's awa', the de'il's awa', The de'il's awa' wi' th' Exciseman; He's danced awa', he's danced awa', He's danced awa' wi' th' Exciseman! We'll mak' our maut, we'll brew our drink, We'll dance, and sing, and rejoice, man; And mony braw thanks to the meikle That danced awa' wi' th' Exciseman. There's threesome reels, there's four- There's hornpipes and strathspeys, man; But the ae best dance e'er cam' to the land Was the de'il's awa' wi' th' Excise man. to succumb to the eight thousand Hanoverian troops led by the Duke of Cumberland.] A RED, RED ROSE. [Lieutenant Hincks has been absurdly credited with writing the latter portion of this lovely song, as a farewell to his sweetheart. It is in every particle, however, wholly and solely from the hand and heart of Burns. Another melody which fits the words more exactly if possible than the one here named, is popularly known as "Low down he's in the broom."] Tune-" Graham's Strathspey." O, MY luve's like a red, red rose, That's newly sprung in June: O, my luve 's like the melodie That's sweetly played in tune. As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear, And the rocks melt wi' the sun : I will luve thee still, my dear, While the sands o' life shall run. And fare thee weel, my only luve ! JEANIE'S BOSOM. [A world of meaning lies in this atom of a Let her crown my love her law, And in her breast enthrone me; Kings and nations, swith awa' ! Reif randies, I disown ye! HAD I THE WYTE SHE BADE ME. [Much grossness was shredded off the vile old song which began like this, with an almost "damnable iteration," when Burns did his best to render it in some degree presentable. He might probably have done better than his best had he altogether saved himself the trouble of emendation.] Tune-"Had I the wyte she bade me.' Had I the wyte she bade me; A coward loon she ca'd me! Sae craftily she took me ben, And bade me mak' nae clatter; "For our ramgunshoch, glum guidman Is o'er ayont the water." Whae'er shall say I wanted grace, When I did kiss and dawte her, Let him be planted in my place, Syne say I was the fautor. song, but with that also a wondrous dearth of Could I for shame, could I for shame, rhyme.] Tune-"Louis, what reck I by thee?" Louis, what reck I by thee, Or Geordie on his ocean? Dyvor, beggar louns to meI reign in Jeanie's bosom. Could I for shame refused her? And wadna manhood been to blame Had I unkindly used her? He clawed her wi' the ripplin'-kame, And blae and bluidy bruised her : When sic a husband was frae hame, What wife but wad excused her? I dighted aye her een sae blue, O, Jenny's a' wat, poor body; COMING THROUGH THE RYE. [Here again is an old song, which, until Burns took it in hand, was like the merest diamond in the rough. Cut in perfect facets by his inimitable skill, it has been recognizable ever since as a gem of the purest water-one of those "Jewels five words long, that on the stretched forefinger of all time sparkle for ever." The greatest songstresses-instance, to-day, Adelina Patti seem to be at their very best when singing it.] Tune "Coming through the rye." O, Jenny's a' wat, poor body; Gin a body meet a body Gin a body meet a body Coming through the glen, Gin a body kiss a body— Need the warld ken? YOUNG JAMIE, PRIDE OF A' THE PLAIN. [This was contributed to Johnson's Museum, and is presumed to have been penned by Burns, though, in point of fact, there is no recognizable clue as to the authorship.] Tune-" The carlin o' the glen." YOUNG Jamie, pride of a' the plain, I wha sae late did range and rove, |