صور الصفحة
PDF
النشر الإلكتروني

I.

corn

A lumbersome and stinkin bigging,

LEITH RACES.
That rides the sairest on my rigging.
Poor me ower meigle do ye blame,
For tradesmen tramping on your wame,

In July month, ae bonny morn,

Whan nature's rokely green
Yet a' your advocates an' braw fouk,
Come still to me 'twixt ane an' twa clock,

Was spread o'er ilka rigg
An' never yet were kent to range

To charm our roving een: At Charlie's statue or Exchange.

Glowrin' about I saw a queen,
Than tak your beaux and macaronies,

The fairest 'neath the lift ;
Gie me trades-fouk and country Johnnies ; Her een were o' the siller sheen,
The deil's in't gin ye dinna sign

Her skin like snawy drift,
Your sentiments conjunct wi' mine.

Sae white that day. Plainstanes.

II. Gin we twa cou'd be as auld-farrant

Quo' she, “I ferly' unco sair,

That ye sud musand gae, As gar the council gie a warrant,

Ye wha hae sung o' Hallow-Fair, Ilk lown rebellious to tak,

Her winter's pranks an' play: Wha walks not i’ the proper track,

Whan on Leith Sands the racers rare, An' o' three shillings Scottish souk him,

Wi' jockey-louns are met, Or in the water-hole sair douk him,

Their orra 2 pennies there to ware, This might assist the poor's collection,

An' drown themsels in debt And gie baith parties satisfaction.

Fu deep that day." Causey. But first, I think, it will be good

An' wha are ye, my winsome dear, To bring it to the Robinhood,'

That taks the gate sae early? Whare we shall hae the question stated, Whare do ye won, gin ane may speir, An' keen and crabitly debated,

For I right meikle ferly, Whether the provost an' the bailies,

That sic braw buskit laughing lass For the town's gude whase daily toil is,

Thir bonny blinks shou'd gie, Shou'd listen to our joint petitions,

An' loup like Hebe o'er the grass, An' see obtemper'd the conditions.

As wanton an' as free

Frae dule this day. Plainstanes. Content am 1-But east the gate is

IV. The Sun, wha taks his leave o' Thetis,

“I dwall amang the cauler springs An' comes to wauken honest fock,

That weet the Land o' Cakes, That gang to wark at sax o'clock; An' aften tune my canty strings It sets us to be dumb a while,

At bridals an' late-wakes. An' let our words gie place to toil. They ca' me Mirth ; I ne'er was kend

To grumble or look sour,

But blythe wad be a lift to lend, * A debating society of that name.

Gin ye would sey 3 my pow'r

An' pith this day."

III.

I

[blocks in formation]

0

Perfume, congenial to the clime, The sweetest in the sweetest time ! The merry bells, in jocund chime,

Rang through the air, And minstrels play'd in strains sublime,

To charm the fair !

At e'en, when hope amaist is gane, I dauner out, or sit alane, Sit alane beneath the tree Where aft he kept his tryst wi' me. O! cou'd I see thae days again, My lover skaithless, an' my ain ! Belov'd by frien's, rever'd by faes, We'd live in bliss on Logan braes.”

And fairer than our Nithsdale fair, Or handsomer, there's nane elsewhere ! Pure as the streams that murmur there,

In them ye'll find That virtue and the graces rare

Are a' enshrin'd !

Lang may the bonnie bairns recline On plenty's bosom, saft and kind ! And, O! may I, ere life shall dwine

To its last scene, Return, and a' my sorrows tine,

At hame again !

While for her love she thus did sigh,'
She saw a sodger passing by,
Passing by wi' scarlet claes,
While sair she grat on Logan braes.
Says he, What gars thee greet sae

sair, What fills thy heart sae fu' o' care ? Thae sporting lambs hae blithesome

days, An' playfu' skip on Logan braes." "What can I do but weep and mourn? I fear my lad will ne'er return, Ne'er return to ease my waes, Will ne'er come hame to Logan braes." Wi' that he clasp'd her in his arms, And said, “I'm free from war's alarms, I now ha'e conquer'd a' my faes, We'll happy live on Logan braes."

LOGAN'S BRAES.

“By Logan's streams that rin sae deep,
Fu' aft wi' glee I've herded sheep;
Herded sheep, or gathered slaes,
Wi' my dear lad, on Logan braes.
But wae's my heart! thae days are gane,
And I, wi' grief, may herd alane ;
While my dear lad maun face his faes,
Far, far frae me and Logan braes.

“Nae mair at Logan kirk will he
Atween the preachings meet wi' me ;
Meet wi' me, or when it's mirk,
Convoy me hame frae Logan kirk.
I weel may sing thae days are gane-
Frae kirk an' fair I come alane,
While my dear lad maun face his faes,
Far, far frae me and Logan braes !

Then straight to Logan kirk they went,
And join'd their hands wi' one consent,
Wi' one consent to end their days,
An' live in bliss on Logan braes.
An' now she sings, “thae days are

gane,
When I wi' grief did herd alane,
While my dear lad did fight his faes,
Far, far frae me and Logan braes."

I These three stanzas are by an anonymous author, and were added after Mayne's death.

[merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

Sturdy. 2 Finnon haddocks.

3 Might. 4 Hackney coaches.

Lashed. A debating society

3 A contest. 4 Numbers go

so called.

limping.

VERSES ON VISITING And Cheshire mites wi' skill to hund,

And fley awa
DUMFRIES.

The heart-scad, and a' scud o' wund
The gods, sure, in some canny hour,

Frae stamack raw ! To bonny Nith hae ta'en a tour, Where bonny blinks the cauler flow'r, Had Horace liv'd, that pleasant sinner,

Beside the stream : Who loo'd gude wine to synd his dinner, And, sportive, there hae shawn their pow'r His muse, though dowf, the deil be in her, In fairy dream!

Wi' blithest sang,

The drink wad round Parnassus rin her Had Kirkhill here but kent the gate,

Ere it were lang! The beauties on Dumfries that wait, He'd never turn'd his canker'd pate,

Nae mair he'd sing to auld Mecænas O' satire keen,

The blinking een o' bonny Venus ; When ilka thing's sae trig and feat

His leave at ance he wad hae ta'en us To please the een.

For claret here, I ken, the stirrah loo'd fu' weel

Which Jove and a' his gods still rain us

Frae year to year ! Amang the drinking loons to reel ; On claret brown or porter sweel, Whilk he cou'd get ;

O! Jove, man ! gie's some orra pence, After a shank o' beef he'd peel,

Mair siller, and a wee mair sense,
His craig to whet.

I'd big to you a rural spence,

And bide a' simmer ; Marshals and Bushbys then had fund And cauld frae saul and body fence Some kitchen gude to lay the grund,

Wi' frequent brimmer.

JAMES TYTLER.

1747–1805.

In a note to the song, “The Bonnie , who, though he drudges about EdinBrucket Lassie,” Burns says—“ The burgh as a common printer, with leaky idea of this song is to me very original : shoes, a sky-lighted hat, and kneethe two first lines are all of it that is buckles, as unlike George-by-the-Graceold. The rest of the song, as well as of-God, as Solomon the son of David ; those songs in the Museum (Johnson's), yet that same unknown drunken mortal marked T., are the works of an obscure, is author and compiler of three-fourths tippling, but extraordinary body of the of Elliot's pompous Encyclopædia Brit. name of Tytler, commonly known by annica, which he composed at half-athe name of Balloon Tytler, from his guinea a-week.” having projected a balloon : a mortal Posterity has ignored the merits of

Ben gaed our gudeman,

priding themselves on extensive literaAnd ben gaed he;

ture, were thought sufficiently bookAnd there he spied a sturdy man

learned if they could make out the ScripWhere nae man should be.

tures in their mother tongue. Writing How cam' this man here?

was entirely out of the line of female How can this be?

education. At that period the most of How cam' this man here

our young men of family sought a forWithout the leave o' me?

tune or found a grave in France. Cromlus,

when he went abroad to the war, was A man! quo' she :

obliged to leave the management of his Ay, a man, quo' he.

correspondence with his mistress to a Poor blind body,

lay brother of the monastery of Dunblain, And blinder mat ye be;

in the immediate neighbourhood of It's a new milking maid

Cromleck, and near Ardoch. This man, My mither sent to me.

unfortunately, was deeply sensible of

Helen's charms. He artfully preposA maid ! quo' he :

sessed her with stories to the disadvanAy, a maid, quo' she.

tage of Cromlus; and by misinterpreting Far hae I ridden,

or keeping up the letters and messages And muckle hae I seen,

intrusted to his care, he entirely irritated But lang-bearded maidens

both. All connection was broken off Saw I never nane.

betwixt them ; Helen was inconsolable ;

and Cromlus has left behind him, in the CROMLET'S LILT.

ballad called “Cromlet's Lilt," a proof

of the elegance of his genius as well as [Burns gives the following account of the steadiness of his love. the origin of this beautiful poem, the

When the artful monk thought time authorship of which he assigns to the had sufficiently softened Helen's sorrow, hero.

he proposed himself as a lover. Helen was It is quite evident, however,

obdurate ; but at last overcome by the that as it now stands, it is not a com

persuasions of her brother, with whom she position of the times of the Reforma- lived, and who, having a family of thirtytion :

one children, was probably very well In the latter end of the 16th century, pleased to get her off his hands, she subthe Chisholms were proprietors of the mitted rather than consented to the cereestate of Cromlecks (now possessed by mony : but there her compliance ended ; the Drummonds). The eldest son of that and, when forcibly put into bed, she started family was very much attached to a quite frantic from it, screaming out, that daughter of Sterling of Ardoch, com- after three gentle taps on the wainscot, at monly known by the name of Fair Helen the bed head, she heard Cromlus's voice of Ardoch.

crying, Helen, Helen, mind me! Cromlus At that time the opportunities of meet- soon after coming home, the treachery of ing betwixt the sexes were more rare, the confidant was discovered,-her marconsequently more sought after than riage disannulled, and Helen became now; and the Scottish ladies, far from Lady Cromlecks.]

« السابقةمتابعة »