THE CARLES OF DYSART. TUNE-Hey, ca' through. Written upon the basis of an old song. UP wi' the carles o' Dysart, gossips And the lads o' Buckhaven, And the kimmers o' Largo, And the lasses o' Leven. Hey, ca' through, ca' through, drive For we hae mickle ado; Hey, ca' through, ca' through, For we hae mickle ado. We hae tales to tell, And we hae sangs to sing; We hae pennies to spend, And we hae pints to bring. We'll live a' our days, And them that come behin', Let them do the like, to do And spend the gear they win. wealth THE CARLE OF KELLYBURN BRAES. TUNE-Kellyburn Braes. An old set of traditionary verses modified by Burns. THERE lived a carle on Kellyburn Braes, (Hey, and the rue grows bonny wi' thyme,) And he had a wife was the plague o' his days: And the thyme it is withered, and rue is in prime. Ae day as the carle gaed up the lang glen, (Hey, and the rue grows bonny wi' thyme,) He met wi' the devil; says, “How do you fen?" come on And the thyme it is withered, and rue is in prime. "I've got a bad wife, sir; that's a' my complaint; (Hey, and the rue grows bonny wi' thyme,) For, saving your presence, to her ye're a saint: And the thyme it is withered, and rue is in prime." It's neither your stot nor your staig bullock I shall crave, colt (Hey, and the rue grows bonny wi' thyme,) But gie me your wife, man, for her I must have, And the thyme it is withered, and rue is in prime." "O welcome, most kindly," the blithe carle said, (Hey, and the rue grows bonny wi' thyme,) "But if ye can match her, ye're waur than ye're ca'd: And the thyme it is withered, and rue is in prime." The devil has got the auld wife on his back; (Hey, and the rue grows bonny wi' thyme,) And, like a poor pedler, he's carried his pack; And the thyme it is withered, and rue is in prime. He's carried her hame to his ain hallan-door; 1 (Hey, and the rue grows bonny wi' thyme,) Syne bade her gae in, for a band a: And the thyme it is withered, and rue is in prime. 1 I. e. interior door. A hallan was a wall in cottages, extending from the front inwards far enough to shelter the inner part of the house from the air, when the house-door was open. Then straight he makes fifty, the pick o' his band, (Hey, and the rue grows bonny wi' thyme,) Turn out on her guard in the clap of a hand: And the thyme it is withered, and rue is in prime. The carline gaed through them like ony wud mad bear, (Hey, and the rue grows bonny wi' thyme,) Whae'er she gat hands on cam near her nae mair: And the thyme it is withered, and rue is in prime. A reekit wee devil looks over the wa'; smoky (Hey, and the rue grows bonny wi' thyme,) "Oh, help, master, help, or she'll ruin us a':" And the thyme it is withered, and rue is in prime. The devil he swore by the edge o' his knife, (Hey, and the rue grows bonny wi' thyme,) He pitied the man that was tied to a wife: And the thyme it is withered, and rue is in prime. The devil he swore by the kirk and the bell, (Hey, and the rue grows bonny wi' thyme,) He was not in wedlock, thank Heaven, but in hell: And the thyme it is withered, and rue is in prime. Then Satan has travelled again wi' his pack; (Hey, and the rue grows bonny wi' thyme,) And to her auld husband he's carried her back: And the thyme it is withered, and rue is in prime. "I hae been a devil the feck o' my life, (Hey, and the rue grows bonny wi' thyme,) But ne'er was in hell till I met wi' a wife: " And the thyme it is withered, and rue is in prime. JOCKY FOU AND JENNY FAIN. This verse was thrown by Burns into a song by Ramsay. LET love sparkle in her e'e, dower |