BURNS. Air-" Roslin Castle." THE gloomy night is gath'ring fast, The Autumn mourns her rip'ning corn "Tis not the surging billows' roar, Farewell, old Coila's hills and dales, Farewell, my friends! farewell, my foes! AGAIN REJOICING NATURE SEES. BURNS. Air-" Jockey's grey breeks." AGAIN rejoicing Nature sees Her robe assume its vernal hue And maun I still on Menie doat, And fear the scorn that's in her ee? In vain to me the cowslips blaw; In vain to me in glen or shaw The mavis and the lint-white sing. The merry ploughboy cheers his team; A dream of ane that never wauks. The wanton coot the water skims ; The shepherd steeks his faulding slaps, Wi' wild, unequal, wandering step, And when the lark, 'tween light and dark, Come, Winter, with thine angry howl, And maun I still on Menie doat, And bear the scorn that's in her ee? For it's jet, jet black, and it's like a hawk, The chorus of this song is the composition of a gentleman in Edinburgh, a friend of Robert Burns. Menie' is a term of endearment for Marianne. "We cannot," says Dr. Currie," presume to alter any of the poems of our bard, and more especially those printed under his own direction; yet it is to be regretted that this chorus, which is not his own composition, should be attached to these fine stanzas, as it perpetually interrupts the train of sentiment which they excite." THE BIRKS OF ABERFELDY. BURNS. BONNIE lassie, will ye go, will ye go, will ye go; While o'er their head the hazels hing, Or lichtly flit on wanton wing, In the birks of Aberfeldy. The braes ascend like lofty wa's, The birks of Aberfeldy. The hoary cliffs are crown'd wi' flowers, The birks of Aberfeldy. Let Fortune's gifts at random flee, In the birks of Aberfeldy. This song is written to the air of "The birks (birch-trees) of Aberfeldy," an ancient composition, from which Burns borrowed nothing but the chorus. CA' THE YOWES.* BURNS. CA' the yowes to the knowes, Hark the mavis' evening sang, We'll gang doun by Cluden side, Yonder Cluden's silent towers, O'er the dewy budding flowers The fairies dance sae cheerie. * Burns says of this song, in a letter to Thomson, " I am flattered at your adopting 'Ca' the yowes to the knowes,' as it was owing to me that it ever saw the light. About seven years ago I was well acquainted with a worthy little fellow of a clergyman, a Mr. Clunie, who sang it charmingly; and, at my request, Mr. Clark took it down from his singing. When I gave it to Johnson, I added some stanzas to the song, and mended others; but still it will not do for you. In a solitary stroll which I took to-day, I tried my hand on a few pastoral lines, following up the idea of the chorus, which I would preserve. Here it is, with all its crudities and imperfections on its head." Mr. Thomson, in reply, calls the song "a precious morceau;" and adds, "I am perfectly astonished and charmed with the endless variety of your fancy." Ghaist nor bogle shalt thou fear; Fair and lovely as thou art, Thou hast stoun my very heart; I can die, but canna part, The original song upon which Burns founded his version is attributed to Isabell or Tibbie Pagan, who died in the neighbourhood of Muirkirk, Ayrshire, in 1821, aged eighty. Some account of her appears in the " Ayrshire Contemporaries of Burns," Edinburgh, 1840. The following version is the original, as revised by Burns for the "Museum." The last verse is by Burns himself. Ca' the yowes to the knowes. Ca' them whare the heather grows, As I gaed down the water-side, He row'd me sweetly in his plaid, Ca' the yowes, &c. Will ye gang down the water-side, Ca' the yowes, &c. I was bred up at nae sic school, And naebody to see me. Ye shall get gowns and ribbons meet, If ye'll but stand to what ye've said, While waters wimple to the sea, Ca' the yowes, &c. |