|
Part XLVIIPart XLVII
Part XLVII
Contented Wi` Little And Cantie Wi` Mair
tune-"Lumps o` Puddin`."
Contented wi` little, and cantie wi` mair,
Whene`er I forgather wi` Sorrow and Care,
I gie them a skelp as they`re creeping alang,
Wi` a cog o` gude swats and an auld Scottish sang.
Chorus-Contented wi` little, &c.
I whiles claw the elbow o` troublesome thought;
But Man is a soger, and Life is a faught;
My mirth and gude humour are coin in my pouch,
And my Freedom`s my Lairdship nae monarch dare touch.
Contented wi` little, &c.
A townmond o` trouble, should that be may fa`,
A night o` gude fellowship sowthers it a`:
When at the blythe end o` our journey at last,
Wha the deil ever thinks o` the road he has past?
Contented wi` little, &c.
Blind Chance, let her snapper and stoyte on her way;
Be`t to me, be`t frae me, e`en let the jade gae:
Come Ease, or come Travail, come Pleasure or Pain,
My warst word is: "Welcome, and welcome again!"
Contented wi` little, &c.
Farewell Thou Stream
Air-"Nansie`s to the greenwood gane."
Farewell, thou stream that winding flows
Around Eliza`s dwelling;
O mem`ry! spare the cruel thoes
Within my bosom swelling.
Condemn`d to drag a hopeless chain
And yet in secret languish;
To feel a fire in every vein,
Nor dare disclose my anguish.
Love`s veriest wretch, unseen, unknown,
I fain my griefs would cover;
The bursting sigh, th` unweeting groan,
Betray the hapless lover.
I know thou doom`st me to despair,
Nor wilt, nor canst relieve me;
But, O Eliza, hear one prayer-
For pity`s sake forgive me!
The music of thy voice I heard,
Nor wist while it enslav`d me;
I saw thine eyes, yet nothing fear`d,
Till fears no more had sav`d me:
Th` unwary sailor thus, aghast
The wheeling torrent viewing,
`Mid circling horrors sinks at last,
In overwhelming ruin.
Canst Thou Leave Me Thus, My Katie
tune-"Roy`s Wife."
Chorus-Canst thou leave me thus, my Katie?
Canst thou leave me thus, my Katie?
Well thou know`st my aching heart,
And canst thou leave me thus, for pity?
Is this thy plighted, fond regard,
Thus cruelly to part, my Katie?
Is this thy faithful swain`s reward-
An aching, broken heart, my Katie!
Canst thou leave me, &c.
Farewell! and ne`er such sorrows tear
That finkle heart of thine, my Katie!
Thou maysn find those will love thee dear,
But not a love like mine, my Katie,
Canst thou leave me, &c.
My Nanie`s Awa
tune-"There`ll never be peace till Jamie comes hame."
Now in her green mantle blythe Nature arrays,
And listens the lambkins that bleat o`er her braes;
While birds warble welcomes in ilka green shaw,
But to me it`s delightless-my Nanie`s awa.
The snawdrap and primrose our woodlands adorn,
And violetes bathe in the weet o` the morn;
They pain my sad bosom, sae sweetly they blaw,
They mind me o` Nanie- and Nanie`s awa.
Thou lav`rock that springs frae the dews of the lawn,
The shepherd to warn o` the grey-breaking dawn,
And thou mellow mavis that hails the night-fa`,
Give over for pity-my Nanie`s awa.
Come Autumn, sae pensive, in yellow and grey,
And soothe me wi` tidings o` Nature`s decay:
The dark, dreary Winter, and wild-driving snaw
Alane can delight me-now Nanie`s awa.
The Tear-Drop
Wae is my heart, and the tear`s in my e`e;
Lang, lang has Joy been a stranger to me:
Forsaken and friendless, my burden I bear,
And the sweet voice o` Pity ne`er sounds in my ear.
Love thou hast pleasures, and deep hae I luv`d;
Love, thou hast sorrows, and sair hae I pruv`d;
But this bruised heart that now bleeds in my breast,
I can feel, by its throbbings, will soon be at rest.
Oh, if I were-where happy I hae been-
Down by yon stream, and yon bonie castle-green;
For there he is wand`ring and musing on me,
Wha wad soon dry the tear-drop that clings to my e`e.
For The Sake O` Somebody
My heart is sair-I dare na tell,
My heart is sair for Somebody;
I could wake a winter night
For the sake o` Somebody.
O-hon! for Somebody!
O-hey! for Somebody!
I could range the world around,
For the sake o` Somebody.
Ye Powers that smile on virtuous love,
O, sweetly smile on Somebody!
Frae ilka danger keep him free,
And send me safe my Somebody!
O-hon! for Somebody!
O-hey! for Somebody!
I wad do-what wad I not?
For the sake o` Somebody.
A Man`s A Man For A` That
tune-"For a` that."
Is there for honest Poverty
That hings his head, an` a` that;
The coward slave-we pass him by,
We dare be poor for a` that!
For a` that, an` a` that.
Our toils obscure an` a` that,
The rank is but the guinea`s stamp,
The Man`s the gowd for a` that.
What though on hamely fare we dine,
Wear hoddin grey, an` a that;
Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine;
A Man`s a Man for a` that:
For a` that, and a` that,
Their tinsel show, an` a` that;
The honest man, tho` e`er sae poor,
Is king o` men for a` that.
Ye see yon birkie, ca`d a lord,
Wha struts, an` stares, an` a` that;
Tho` hundreds worship at his word,
He`s but a coof for a` that:
For a` that, an` a` that,
His ribband, star, an` a` that:
The man o` independent mind
He looks an` laughs at a` that.
A prince can mak a belted knight,
A marquis, duke, an` a` that;
But an honest man`s abon his might,
Gude faith, he maunna fa` that!
For a` that, an` a` that,
Their dignities an` a` that;
The pith o` sense, an` pride o` worth,
Are higher rank than a` that.
Then let us pray that come it may,
(As come it will for a` that,)
That Sense and Worth, o`er a` the earth,
Shall bear the gree, an` a` that.
For a` that, an` a` that,
It`s coming yet for a` that,
That Man to Man, the world o`er,
Shall brothers be for a` that.
Craigieburn Wood
Sweet fa`s the eve on Craigieburn,
And blythe awakes the morrow;
But a` the pride o` Spring`s return
Can yield me nocht but sorrow.
I see the flowers and spreading trees,
I hear the wild birds singing;
But what a weary wight can please,
And Care his bosom wringing!
Fain, fain would I my griefs impart,
Yet dare na for your anger;
But secret love will break my heart,
If I conceal it langer.
If thou refuse to pity me,
If thou shalt love another,
When yon green leaves fade frae the tree,
Around my grave they`ll wither.
Versicles of 1795
The Solemn League And Covenant
The Solemn League and Covenant
Now brings a smile, now brings a tear;
But sacred Freedom, too, was theirs:
If thou`rt a slave, indulge thy sneer.
Compliments Of John Syme Of Ryedale
Lines sent with a Present of a Dozen of Porter.
O had the malt thy strength of mind,
Or hops the flavour of thy wit,
`Twere drink for first of human kind,
A gift that e`en for Syme were fit.
Jerusalem Tavern, Dumfries.
Inscription On A Goblet
There`s Death in the cup, so beware!
Nay, more-there is danger in touching;
But who can avoid the fell snare,
The man and his wine`s so bewitching!
Apology For Declining An Invitation To Dine
No more of your guests, be they titled or not,
And cookery the first in the nation;
Who is proof to thy personal converse and wit,
Is proof to all other temptation.
Epitaph For Mr. Gabriel Richardson
Here Brewer Gabriel`s fire`s extinct,
And empty all his barrels:
He`s blest-if, as he brew`d, he drink,
In upright, honest morals.
Epigram On Mr. James Gracie
Gracie, thou art a man of worth,
O be thou Dean for ever!
May he be damned to hell henceforth,
Who fauts thy weight or measure!
Bonie Peg-a-Ramsay
Cauld is the e`enin blast,
O` Boreas o`er the pool,
An` dawin` it is dreary,
When birks are bare at Yule.
Cauld blaws the e`enin blast,
When bitter bites the frost,
And, in the mirk and dreary drift,
The hills and glens are lost:
Ne`er sae murky blew the night
That drifted o`er the hill,
But bonie Peg-a-Ramsay
Gat grist to her mill.
Inscription At Friars` Carse Hermitage
To the Memory of Robert Riddell.
To Riddell, much lamented man,
This ivied cot was dear;
Wandr`er, dost value matchless worth?
This ivied cot revere.
There Was A Bonie Lass
There was a bonie lass, and a bonie, bonie lass,
And she lo`ed her bonie laddie dear;
Till War`s loud alarms tore her laddie frae her arms,
Wi` mony a sigh and tear.
Over sea, over shore, where the cannons loudly roar,
He still was a stranger to fear;
And nocht could him quail, or his bosom assail,
But the bonie lass he lo`ed sae dear.
Wee Willie Gray
tune-"Wee Totum Fogg."
Wee Willie Gray, and his leather wallet,
Peel a willow wand to be him boots and jacket;
The rose upon the breir will be him trews an` doublet,
The rose upon the breir will be him trews an` doublet,
Wee Willie Gray, and his leather wallet,
Twice a lily-flower will be him sark and cravat;
Feathers of a flee wad feather up his bonnet,
Feathers of a flee wad feather up his bonnet.
O Aye My Wife She Dang Me
Chorus-O aye my wife she dang me,
An` aft my wife she bang`d me,
If ye gie a woman a` her will,
Gude faith! she`ll soon o`er-gang ye.
On peace an` rest my mind was bent,
And, fool I was! I married;
But never honest man`s intent
Sane cursedly miscarried.
O aye my wife, &c.
Some sairie comfort at the last,
When a` thir days are done, man,
My pains o` hell on earth is past,
I`m sure o` bliss aboon, man,
O aye my wife, &c.
Gude Ale Keeps The Heart Aboon
Chorus-O gude ale comes and gude ale goes;
Gude ale gars me sell my hose,
Sell my hose, and pawn my shoon-
Gude ale keeps my heart aboon!
I had sax owsen in a pleugh,
And they drew a` weel eneugh:
I sell`d them a` just ane by ane-
Gude ale keeps the heart aboon!
O gude ale comes, &c.
Gude ale hauds me bare and busy,
Gars me moop wi` the servant hizzie,
Stand i` the stool when I hae done-
Gude ale keeps the heart aboon!
O gude ale comes, &c.
O Steer Her Up An` Haud Her Gaun
O steer her up, an` haud her gaun,
Her mither`s at the mill, jo;
An` gin she winna tak a man,
E`en let her tak her will, jo.
First shore her wi` a gentle kiss,
And ca` anither gill, jo;
An` gin she tak the thing amiss,
E`en let her flyte her fill, jo.
O steer her up, an` be na blate,
An` gin she tak it ill, jo,
Then leave the lassie till her fate,
And time nae langer spill, jo:
Ne`er break your heart for ae rebute,
But think upon it still, jo:
That gin the lassie winna do`t,
Ye`ll find anither will, jo.
The Lass O` Ecclefechan
tune-"Jack o` Latin."
Gat ye me, O gat ye me,
O gat ye me wi` naething?
Rock an reel, and spinning wheel,
A mickle quarter basin:
Bye attour my Gutcher has
A heich house and a laich ane,
A` forbye my bonie sel,
The toss o` Ecclefechan.
O haud your tongue now, Lucky Lang,
O haud your tongue and jauner
I held the gate till you I met,
Syne I began to wander:
I tint my whistle and my sang,
I tint my peace and pleasure;
But your green graff, now Lucky Lang,
Wad airt me to my treasure.
O Let Me In Thes Ae Night
O Lassie, are ye sleepin yet,
Or are ye waukin, I wad wit?
For Love has bound me hand an` fit,
And I would fain be in, jo.
Chorus-O let me in this ae night,
This ae, ae, ae night;
O let me in this ae night,
I`ll no come back again, jo!
O hear`st thou not the wind an` weet?
Nae star blinks thro` the driving sleet;
Tak pity on my weary feet,
And shield me frae the rain, jo.
O let me in, &c.
The bitter blast that round me blaws,
Unheeded howls, unheeded fa`s;
The cauldness o` thy heart`s the cause
Of a` my care and pine, jo.
O let me in, &c.
Her Answer
O tell na me o` wind an` rain,
Upbraid na me wi` cauld disdain,
Gae back the gate ye cam again,
I winna let ye in, jo.
Chorus-I tell you now this ae night,
This ae, ae, ae night;
And ance for a` this ae night,
I winna let ye in, jo.
The snellest blast, at mirkest hours,
That round the pathless wand`rer pours
Is nocht to what poor she endures,
That`s trusted faithless man, jo.
I tell you now, &c.
The sweetest flower that deck`d the mead,
Now trodden like the vilest weed-
Let simple maid the lesson read
The weird may be her ain, jo.
I tell you now, &c.
The bird that charm`d his summer day,
Is now the cruel Fowler`s prey;
Let witless, trusting, Woman say
How aft her fate`s the same, jo!
I tell you now, &c.
|