Bessie Bell I lo'ed yestreen, Bessie's hair's like a lint-tap, She smiles like a May mornin', Mary's locks are like the craw, Blythe as a kid, wi' wit at will, She blooming, tight, and tall is, Young Bessie Bell and Mary Gray, Wae's me! for baith I canna get, To ane by law we're stentit; Then I'll draw cuts, and tak my fate, And be wi' ane contentit. The heroines of this well-known ballad were the daughters of two Perthshire gentlemen. Bessy Bell was the daughter of the Laird of Kinnaird, and Mary Gray of the Laird of Lynedoch. A romantic attachment subsisted between them, and they retired together to a secluded spot called the "Burn Braes," in the neighbourhood of Lynedoch, to avoid the plague that then raged in Perth, Dundee, and other towns. They caught the infection, however, and both died. Tradition asserts that a young tleman, in love with one of them, visited them in their solitude, and that it was him they caught the contagion. The late gallant Lord Lynedoch, on whose the heroines lie buried, erected a kind of bower over their graves. The fol lowing is the original ballad on which Allan Ramsay's is founded. The melody to which it is sung was introduced by Gay into the "Beggars' Opera," to the words commencing: "A curse attends that woman's love O Bessie Bell and Mary Gray, They were twa bonnie lasses; They theekit it ower wi' heather; They thought to lie in Methven kirkyard But they maun lie in Stronach Haugh And Bessie Bell and Mary Gray, They were twa bonnie lasses; THE LAST TIME I CAM' O'ER THE MUIR. ALLAN RAMSAY. THE last time I cam' ower the muir, Ye powers, what pains do I endure I met betimes my lovely maid We stray'd beside yon wand'ring stream, And talk'd with hearts o'erflowing, Until the sun's last setting beam Was in the ocean glowing. I pitied all beneath the skies, Even kings, when she was nigh me ; In raptures I beheld her eyes, Which could but ill deny me. Should I be call'd where cannons roar, Shall make my cares at distance move, In all my soul there's not one place Since she excels in ev'ry grace, In her my love shall centre. The neist time I gang ower the muir, And that my faith is firm and pure, There, while my being does remain, My love more fresh shall blossom. "The first lines of this song, and several others in it, are beautiful; but in my opinion - pardon me, revered shade of Ramsay!- the song is unworthy of the divine air."- BURNS. PEGGIE AND PATIE. ALLAN RAMSAY. PEGGY. WHEN first my dear laddie gae'd to the green hill, РАТІЕ. When corn-riggs waved yellow, and blue heather-bells PEGGY. When thou ran, or wrestled, or putted the stane, PATIE. Our Jenny sings saftly the "Cowden-Broom-Knowes," But when my dear Peggy sings, with better skill, The "Boatman," ," "Tweedsdale," or the "Lass o' the Mill," 'Tis many times sweeter and pleasing to me; For though they sing nicely, they cannot like thee. PEGGY. How easy can lasses trow what they desire, THE YELLOW-HAIR'D LADDIE. ALLAN RAMSAY. In April, when primroses paint the sweet plain, To woods and deep glens where the hawthorn-trees grow. There under the shade of an old sacred thorn With freedom he sung his loves ev'ning and morn : He sung with so soft and enchanting a sound, That silvans and fairies, unseen, danced around. The shepherd thus sung: Though young Maddie be fair, Her beauty is dash'd by a scornfu' proud air; But Susie was handsome, and sweetly could sing,- That Maddie, in all the gay bloom of her youth, That mamma's fine daughter, with all her great dower, Then sighing, he wish'd, would but parents agree, Allan Ramsay founded this song upon a much older composition — of itself not devoid of merit, and free from the concetti of its more modern namesake. It was inserted in his " Tea-Table Miscellany," and is here appended. The yellow-hair'd laddie sat down on yon brae, Crying, "Milk the ewes, lassie; let nane o' them gae." And aye as she milkit she merrily sang, The yellow-hair'd laddie shall be my gudeman. The weather is cauld and my cleadin' is thin, The yowes are new-clipt and they winna bught in; They winna bught in, although I should dee, O yellow-hair'd laddie, be kind unto me! The gudewife cries butt the house, " Jennie, come ben; DUNT, DUNT, DUNT, PITTIE, PATTIE. Air-" The yellow-hair'd laddie." From the "Tea-Table Miscellany." ON Whitsunday morning I went to the fair; My yellow-hair'd laddie Was selling his ware; He gied me sic a blythe blink With his bonny black ee, And a dear blink and a fair blink It was unto me. |