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Authors: Robert Burns

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BOOK: The Canongate Burns
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The Banks of the Devon

Tune: Bhannerach dhon na chri
First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 2, 14th February, 1788.

How pleasant the banks of the clear-winding Devon,

       With green-spreading bushes, and flow'rs blooming fair!

But the boniest flower on the banks of the Devon

       Was once a sweet bud on the braes of the Ayr.
hill sides

5
Mild be the sun on this sweet-blushing Flower,

       In the gay, rosy morn as it bathes in the dew;

And gentle the fall of the soft, vernal shower,

       That steals on the evening each leaf to renew!

O spare the dear blossom, ye orient breezes,

10
       With chill, hoary wing as ye usher the dawn!

And far be thou distant, thou reptile that seizes

       The verdure and pride of the garden or lawn!

Let Bourbon exult in his gay, gilded Lilies,

       And England triumphant display her proud Rose;

15
A fairer than either adorns the green vallies

       Where Devon, sweet Devon meandering flows. —

This exquisite lyric celebrates Charlotte Hamilton (1763–1806), younger sister of Gavin Hamilton, Mauchline. Burns wrote to Gavin on 28th August, 1787, commenting – ‘Yesterday morning I rode from this town [Stirling] up the meandering Devon's banks, to pay my respects to some Ayrshire folks at Harvieston [Clack-mannanshire]…. Of Charlotte I cannot speak in common terms of admiration: she is not only beautiful, but lovely…' (Letter 132).

Weary Fa' You, Duncan Gray

Tune: Duncan Gray
First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 2, 14th February, 1788.

WEARY fa' you, Duncan Gray,
fall

       Ha, ha the girdin o't,
horse girthing/ galloping

Wae gae by you, Duncan Gray,
woe go

       Ha, ha the girdin o't;

5
When a' the lave gae to their play,
remainder go

       Then I maun sit the lee-lang day,
must, live-long

And jeeg the cradle wi' my tae rock, toe

       And a' for the bad girdin o't. —
girthing for galloping (copulation) 

Bonie was the Lammas moon

10
       Ha, ha the girdin o't,

Glowrin a' the hills aboon,
glowing, above

       Ha, ha the girdin o't;

The girdin brak, the beast cam down,
girthing broke, horse came

       I tint my curch and baith my shoon, lost,
kerchief, both, shoes

15
And Duncan ye're an unco loun;
strange rascal

       Wae on the bad girdin o't. —
woe 

But Duncan gin ye'll keep your aith,
if, oath

       Ha, ha the girdin o't,

I'se bless you wi' my hindmost breath,
I'll

20
       Ha, ha the girdin o't;

Duncan gin ye'll keep your aith,

       The beast again can bear us baith
horse, both

And auld Mess John will mend the skaith
old, Minister, damage

       And clout the bad girdin o't. —
patch

This is based on a traditional bawdy song somewhat cleaned up by Burns, but left with happy overtones of horsy, sexual pleasure. The original lyric changed by Burns is from the David Herd collection.

The Ploughman

First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 2, 14th February, 1788.

The Ploughman he's a bony lad,

      His mind is ever true, jo,
sweetheart

His garters knit below his knee,

      His bonnet it is blue, jo. 

Chorus

5
Then up wi't a', my Ploughman lad,
with it

      And hey, my merry Ploughman;

Of a' the trades that I do ken,
know

      Commend me to the Ploughman. 

My Ploughman he comes hame at e'en,
home, evening

10
      He's aften wat and weary:
often wet

Cast aff the wat, put on the dry,
off, wet

      And gae to bed, my Dearie.
go

             Then up wi't a', &c.

I will wash my Ploughman's hose,

      And I will dress his o'erlay;
necktie

15
I will mak my Ploughman's bed,
make

      And chear him late and early.

          Then up wi't a', &c.

I hae been east, I hae been west,
have

      I hae been at Saint Johnston,
Perth

The boniest sight that e'er I saw

20
      Was the Ploughman laddie dancin.

                  Then up wi't a', &c.

Snaw-white stockings on his legs,
snow-

      And siller buckles glancin;
silver

A guid blue bonnet on his head,
good

      And O but he was handsome!

             Then up wi't a', &c.

25
Commend me to the Barn yard,

      And the Corn-mou, man;
corn stook

I never gat my Coggie fou
got, (cup) womb full

      Till I met wi' the Ploughman.

                  Then up wi't a', &c.

This is another traditional song worked over by Burns from the song collection by David Herd. The second and third stanzas are from the old song. The chorus is also old, leaving Burns's input as the first, fourth, fifth and sixth stanzas.

Landlady, Count the Lawin

Tune: Hey Tuti Tatey ‒
First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 2, 14th February, 1788.

Landlady count the lawin,
bill

The day is near the dawin,
dawning

Ye're a' blind drunk, boys,

      And I'm but jolly fou. —
full/drunk

Chorus

5
Hey tuti, tatey, How tuti, taiti,

Hey tuti taiti, wha's fou now. —

Cog an ye were ay fou,
drinking jug, always drunk

Cog an ye were ay fou;

I wad sit and sing to you,
would

10
       If ye were ay fou. —

              Hey tuti, tatey &c.

Weel may we a' be,
well, all

Ill may ye never see!

God bless the king

      And the Companie!

             Hey tuti, tatey &c.

This is a reworking of a traditional lyric. Like
Willie Brew'd A
Peck
O Maut
, it is a drinking song to be sung as by a drunk. Given the traditional tune and lyrics, it is certain the reference is to a Stuart not a Hanoverian king.

Raving Winds around Her Blowing

Tune: McGrigor of Rora's Lament
First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 2, 14th February, 1788. 

Raving winds around her blowing,

Yellow leaves the woodlands strowing,

By a river hoarsely roaring

Isabella stray'd deploring.

5
Farewell, hours that late did measure

Sunshine days of joy and pleasure;

Hail, thou gloomy night of sorrow,

Cheerless night that knows no morrow.

O'er the Past too fondly wandering,

10
On the hopeless Future pondering;

Chilly Grief my life-blood freezes,

Fell Despair my fancy seizes.

Life, thou soul of every blessing,

Load to Misery most distressing,

15
Gladly how would I resign thee,

And to dark Oblivion join thee!'

This work was written in 1787 by Burns out of sympathy with Miss Isabella McLeod, on the death of her sister, Flora McLeod, and her sister's husband, the Earl of Loudon, who killed himself due to financial debts.

Musing on the Roaring Ocean

Tune: Druimionn dubh
First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 2, 14th February, 1788.

Musing on the roaring ocean

       Which divides my Love and me,

Wearying Heaven in warm devotion

       For his weal where'er he be;

5
Hope and Fear's alternate billow

       Yielding late to Nature's law,

Whispering spirits round my pillow,

       Talk of him that's far awa. — 

Ye whom Sorrow never wounded,

10
       Ye who never shed a tear,

Care-untroubled, joy-surrounded,

       Gaudy Day to you is dear:

Gentle Night do thou befriend me; 

       Downy sleep the curtain draw;

15
Spirits kind again attend me,

       Talk of him that's far awa! 

Burns records that he composed this song as a ‘compliment to a Mrs McLachlan, whose husband is an officer in the East Indies' (See Low, no. 82, p. 257).

Blythe was She
–

Composed at Auchtertyre on Miss Euphemia Murray of Lentrose

Tune: Andro and his Cuttie Gun.
First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 2, 14th February, 1788.

By Oughtertyre grows the aik,
oak

      On Yarrow banks the birken shaw;
birch woods

But Phemie was a bonier lass Miss
Murray

      Than braes o' Yarrow ever saw. —
hillsides

Chorus

5
Blythe, blythe and merry was she,

      Blythe was she butt and ben:
outside, inside

Blythe by the banks of Ern,
river Earn

      And blythe in Glenturit glen!

Her looks were like a flower in May,

10
      Her smile was like a simmer morn,
summer

She tripped by the banks o' Ern

      As light's a bird upon a thorn. —

            Blythe, blythe &c.

Her bonie face it was as meek

      As ony lamb upon a lee;
any, pasture

15
The evening sun was ne'er sae sweet
never so

      As was the blink o' Phemie's e'e.
eye

            Blythe, blythe &c.

The Highland hills I've wander'd wide,

      As o'er the lawlands I hae been;
lowlands, have

But Phemie was the blythest lass

20
      That ever trod the dewy green. —

            Blythe, blythe &c.

Written in the Autumn of 1787 at Auchtertyre on Miss Euphemia Murray of Lentrose as Burns records in the extended title to this song.

To Daunton Me
–

Tune: To Daunton Me -
First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 2, 14th February, 1788.

The blude-red rose at Yule may blaw,
blood-, blow

The simmer lilies bloom in snaw,
summer, snow

The frost may freeze the deepest sea,

But an auld man shall never daunton me. —
old, subdue

Chorus

5
To daunton me, to daunton me,

For an auld man shall never daunton me. —

To daunton me, and me sae young,
rule/subdue, so

Wi' his fause heart and flatt'ring tongue,
false

That is the thing you shall never see

10
For an auld man shall never daunton me. —
old

For a' his meal and a' his maut,
oatmeal, malt

For a' his fresh beef and his saut,
salt

For a' his gold and white moníe,
money

An auld man shall never daunton me.
old

               To daunton me &c.

15
His gear may buy him kye and yowes,
wealth, cattle, ewes

His gear may buy him glens and knowes,
hillocks

But me he shall not buy nor fee,
hire

For an auld man shall never daunton me. —
old

               To daunton me &c.

He hirples twa-fauld as he dow,
limps, two-fold, able

20
Wi' his teethless gab and his auld beld pow,
mouth, old bald head

And the rain rins down frae his red-blear'd e'e,
runs, from, eye

That auld man shall never daunton me. —
old

               To daunton me &c.

This is a song written in late 1787, adapted from an old Jacobite song. It is rearranged by Burns to focus on the married mismatch of age and youth with all its concomitant problems. The feisty female voice records its triumph over both her husband's material possessions and his tangible physical decay.

BOOK: The Canongate Burns
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