Tune--"_Gudewife count the lawin._"
[The air as well as words of this song were furnished to the Museum by Burns. "The chorus," he says, "is part of an old song."]
I.
Gane is the day, and mirk"s the night, But we"ll ne"er stray for fau"t o" light, For ale and brandy"s stars and moon, And blude-red wine"s the rising sun.
Then gudewife count the lawin, The lawin, the lawin; Then gudewife count the lawin, And bring a coggie mair!
II.
There"s wealth and ease for gentlemen, And simple folk maun fight and fen; But here we"re a" in ae accord, For ilka man that"s drunk"s a lord.
III.
My coggie is a haly pool, That heals the wounds o" care and dool; And pleasure is a wanton trout, An" ye drink but deep ye"ll find him out.
Then gudewife count the lawin; The lawin, the lawin, Then gudewife count the lawin, And bring a coggie mair!
XCIX.
THERE"LL NEVER BE PEACE.
Tune--"_There art few gude fellows when Willie"s awa._"
[The bard was in one of his Jacobitical moods when he wrote this song.
The air is a well known one, called "There"s few gude fellows when Willie"s awa." But of the words none, it is supposed, are preserved.]
I.
By yon castle wa", at the close of the day, I heard a man sing, though his head it was gray; And as he was singing the tears down came, There"ll never be peace till Jamie comes hame.
The church is in ruins, the state is in jars; Delusions, oppressions, and murderous wars: We darena weel say"t, though we ken wha"s to blame, There"ll never be peace till Jamie comes hame!
II.
My seven braw sons for Jamie drew sword, And now I greet round their green beds in the yerd.
It brak the sweet heart of my faithfu" auld dame-- There"ll never be peace till Jamie comes hame.
Now life is a burthen that bows me down, Since I tint my bairns, and he tint his crown; But till my last moments my words are the same-- There"ll never be peace till Jamie comes hame!
C.
HOW CAN I BE BLYTHE AND GLAD?
Tune--"_The bonnie lad that"s far awa._"
[This lamentation was written, it is said, in allusion to the sufferings of Jean Armour, when her correspondence with Burns was discovered by her family.]
I.
O how can I be blythe and glad, Or how can I gang brisk and braw, When the bonnie lad that I lo"e best Is o"er the hills and far awa?
When the bonnie lad that I lo"e best Is o"er the hills and far awa.
II.
It"s no the frosty winter wind, It"s no the driving drift and snaw; But ay the tear comes in my e"e, To think on him that"s far awa.
But ay the tear comes in my e"e, To think on him that"s far awa.
III.
My father pat me frae his door, My friends they line disown"d me a", But I hae ane will tak" my part, The bonnie lad that"s far awa.
But I hae ane will tak" my part, The bonnie lad that"s far awa.
IV.
A pair o" gloves he gae to me, And silken snoods he gae me twa; And I will wear them for his sake, The bonnie lad that"s far awa.
And I will wear them for his sake, The bonnie lad that"s far awa.
V.
O weary Winter soon will pa.s.s, And spring will cleed the birken shaw; And my young babie will be born, And he"ll be hame that"s far awa.
And my young babie will be born, And he"ll be hame that"s far awa.
CI.
I DO CONFESS THOU ART SAE FAIR.
Tune--"_I do confess thou art sae fair._"
["I do think," says Burns, in allusion to this song, "that I have improved the simplicity of the sentiments by giving them a Scottish dress." The original song is of great elegance and beauty: it was written by Sir Robert Aytoun, secretary to Anne of Denmark, Queen of James I.]
I.