Read The Canongate Burns Online
Authors: Robert Burns
Tune: The Carlin o The Glen
First printed in Johnson, 1796.
Young Jamie, pride of a' the plain,
Sae gallant and sae gay a swain,
so
Thro' a' our lasses he did rove,
all
And reign'd resistless King of Love.Â
5
But now, wi' sighs and starting tears,
He strays amang the woods and breers;
among, briers
Or in the glens and rocky caves
His sad complaining dowie raves: â
gloomy
I, wha sae late did range and rove,
who so
10
And chang'd with every moon my love â
I little thought the time was near,
Repentance I should buy sae dear.
so
The slighted maids my torments see,
And laugh at a' the pangs I dree;
all, suffer
15
While she, my cruel, scornful Fair,
Forbids me e'er to see her mair.
ever, more
This is included by Henderson and Henley and appears again in Mackay without comment. It is, though, either missed or rejected by Kinsley, despite the extant manuscript. It may have been merely copied by Burns, but it does read as though Burns may have improved it.Â
First printed in Johnson's S.M.M., Vol. 4, 13th August, 1792.
As I went out ae May morning, one
one
      A May morning it chanc'd to be;
There I was aware of a weelfar'd Maid
well-/beautiful
      Cam linkin' o'er the lea to me. â
came dancing
Â
5
O but she was a weelfar'd maid,
      The boniest lass that's under the sun;
I spier'd gin she could fancy me,
asked if
      But her answer was, I am too young.
To be your bride I am too young,
10
      To be your loun wad shame my kin,
fool would
So therefore pray young man begone,
      For you never, never shall my favor win. â
But amang yon birks and hawthorns green,
among, birches
      Where roses blaw and woodbines hing,
blow, hang
15
O there I learn'd my bonie lass
      That she was not a single hour too young. â
The lassie blush'd, the lassie sigh'd,
      And the tear stood twinklin in her e'e;
eye
O kind Sir, since ye hae done me this wrang,
have, wrong
20
      Its pray when will ye marry me. â
It's of that day tak ye nae heed,
take, no
      For that's ae day ye ne'er shall see;
one
For ought that pass'd between us twa,
two
      Ye had your share as weel as me. â
well
25
She wrang her hands, she tore her hair,
wrung
      She cried out most bitterlie,
O what will I say to my mammie,
      When I gae hame wi' my big bellie!
go home
O as ye maut, so maun ye brew,
malt, must
30
      And as ye brew, so maun ye tun;
barrel
But come to my arms, my ae bonie lass,
one
      For ye never shall rue what ye now hae done! â
have
Â
This
pastourelle dialogue
is apparently an old song,
possibly
altered by Burns. If this is so, it is questionable it should be in the canon. Mackay (1993) prints it saying it was âcollected by Burns' and has âminor improvements' which he does not identify (p. 466). Kinsley says âwhether he “improved” the verses is uncertain' (Vol. III, no. 384, p. 1407). Doubt ought to have made Kinsley place this work in his âDubia' section. The current editors were unable to trace the old song to establish what improvements Burns made. Stanza four's rhyming of âhing' and âyoung' would be a remarkable oversight from Burns if it is his reworking. There are a few phrases which he may have written, but it cannot be given to Burns without further evidence.
First printed in Johnson, 1796.
Wha in a brulyie, will first cry âa parley'?
who, brawl
Never the lads wi' the bannocks o' barley!
Chorus
Bannocks o' bear meal, bannocks o' barley,
barley
Here's to the Highlandman's bannocks o' barley!
Wha, in his wae days, were loyal to Charlie?
who, sad
Wha but the lads wi' the bannocks o' barley!
who
This is unsigned in the S.M.M. A copy exists in the poet's holograph, but Kinsley and Mackay concur that it was merely collected by Burns without revision, implying that it is not by Burns, nor improved by him. Such a view should have it rejected from the canon, but both editors, surprisingly, accept it to the canon. However, its origin may be the old song
The Highlandman Speaking of
His Maggy and the Bannocks of Barley Meal
, written on the Duke of Argyll â if so, Burns has adapted the original.
First printed in Cunningham, 1834.
Ye hypocrites! are these your pranks?
To murder men, and give God thanks?
Desist for shame! Proceed no further:
God won't accept your thanks for Murther.
murder
This is rejected by Kinsley (1968), but accepted in Henley and Henderson (1896) and Mackay (1993). No editor has dated composition. It reads as a reaction to a national thanksgiving day declared in the national newspapers for a victory against the French army. If by Burns, it is futher proof of his anti-military views. Henley and Henderson are probably right that it is adapted from
Four Lines Put
in the Basin of the Tron Church on the Thanksgiving Day for Perth
and Preston, 17th June 1716:
Did ever men play such pranks
As for murder to give thanks:
Hold, damned preachers, goe no furder,
God accepts not thanks for murther. (Vol. ii, Notes, p. 442.)
The text in Scott Douglas is more Scottish than the Henleyâ Henderson and version printed by Mackay. Without extant manuscript authority, the most favourable comment is that Burns probably adapted the traditional verse.
First printed in
The Glasgow Herald
, 22nd March, 1919.
Arms and the man I scorn to sing,
       The thread-bare tale is common,
Coila thy chiefest succours bring,
       My theme is lovely Woman,
Kyle
5
O Muse! If e'er ye heard my prayer
       If e'er I dearly prized ye
Haud to my hand wi' rhymin ware
       To sing that fatal Tysday.Â
Not for your faults, ye bony twa
10
       This Sair mishap ye've got it
sore
Your Virgin forms like Virgin Snow
Are taintless and unspotted;
       But thou, Unlucky Davie,
15
The Sins and Sinfu' Companie
       Brought a' this Cursed Shavie.
trick
Dispel your fears, ye lovely Pair,
       For a' the ills that's near ye
Angels are Heaven's peculiar Care
       Misfortunes dare na Steer ye
not disturb you
20
But Davie lad do thou repent
       E'er out again ye venture,
Or Korah-like ye'll meet a rent
       Will send ye to the centre.
Had but the wheel within the wheel
25
       Of our administration
Run wi their cargo to the deil
devil
       It wad been less vexation;
But such a precious freight nae less
       Then lovely Virgin Beauty
30
How cou'd even senseless iron and brass
       Refuse to do its duty.Â
This interesting and problematic poem first appeared in
The Glas
gow Herald
as dated above. It was published by a Dr George Neilson who claimed that the poem formed part of a small quarto volume to which Helen Craik was the principal contributor. She had befriended the poet through her father, William Craik of Arbigland and there is, in fact, a letter from Burns on 9th August, 1790 to her discussing her poetry which is obviously proximate to the date of this particular poem. Unfortunately the quarto volume has disappeared and the poem seems to have stirred neither comment nor controversy in the letter pages of
The Herald
. It is also the case that subsequent editors of Burns either knew nothing of it or decided it was unworthy of attention.
Fortunately Chris Rollie of Cumnock Burns Club has retrieved the poem and presented a cogent, detailed account of it as belonging to Burns at Strathclyde University's
Burns Now
Conference (January, 1999). As Neilson had done, Rollie pinpoints interesting parallels with Burns's other work. Of particular point is l. 19 of this poem which manifestly echoes âAngelic forms, high Heaven's peculiar care!' from the again proximate
Prologue spoken
at Dumfries Theatre
on 1st January, 1790. Rollie's search for internal linguistic âfingerprints' is detailed and largely convincing. The use for example of âKorah-like' (l. 23) appears on one other occasion in Burns's
Epistle to John Rankine
, written five years before.
The poem may, of course, be a forgery. If the copying of Burns's handwriting was a near cottage industry in the nineteenth century, some went further and fabricated poems. James Barke collected such forged works in the so-called Mavisgrove collection. Here is a characteristic sample:
Assist me Coila, while I sing
  The virtues o' a crony,
That in the blessings friendship bring
  Has ne'er been match'd by mony.
And wha's the man sic land to gain?
  There can be nae mistakin;
As if there could be mair than ane â
  Step forrat Robert Aitken!â¦
Certainly the
Monody
is of a different order than this. If forged, the forger also went to an unusual degree of fabricating a biographical context. Neilson suggested an incident involving a David Campbell of Ayr and a carriage accident, âsenseless iron and brass',
involving two actresses in Sutherland's Dumfries company. Rollie minutely examines this possibility from the local Dumfries press but finds no confirmation. He replaces Neilson's version with the interesting conjecture that the man referred to is David Staig, the long-term Provost of Dumfries, and his two daughters, Jessie and Lilias. This, as Rollie states, is deeply conjectural. Did, for example, Burns have such intimacy with the Staig family? However, as Rollie points out, Burns's poem about Jessie, written to Dr Maxwell in 1793, again echoes l. 19:
Maxwell, if merit you crave,
  That merit I deny:
YOU save fair Jessie from the grave! â
  An Angel could not die.
This is probably a light occasional Burns poem, the inevitably obscure occasion of which creates its difficulty. See Chris Rollie, âA Monody on the Fatal 29th December, 1789 â A Rediscovered Poem by Burns?',
B.C
., 1998, pp. 62â9.
A variant of the poem by this title.
In wood and wild, ye warbling throng,
      Your heavy loss deplore,
Now half extinct your powers of song,
      Sweet Echo is no more.
Ye jarring, screeching things around,
      Scream your discordant joys:
Now half your din of tuneless sound
      With Echo silent lies.
This work, supposedly written by Burns in late July 1793 while at Kenmure Castle, is believed by Kinsley (see notes to K416) to be verses remembered by John Syme from the Galloway tour, not the original text written by Burns. The second version is given in the canon as probably authentic.
First printed in Cunningham, 1834.
Now health forsakes that angel face,
      Nae mair my Dearie smiles;
Pale sickness withers ilka grace,
      And a' my hopes beguiles:
The cruel Powers reject the prayer
      I hourly mak for thee;
Ye Heavens how great is my despair,
      How can I see him die!
This is rejected by Henley and Henderson (1896) who describe it as ârubbish' Burns would not even transcribe (Vol IV, p. 108). Kinsley (K628) doubts its provenance, aware that it exists in manuscript at Alloway, on the reverse of a page containing a song by a Mrs Scott of Dumbarton. If from Burns, it reads more like an early unfinished fragment than a stanza copied by him.
The Cauld House o' Clay
First published in an 1885 songsheet collection, âSongs by Robert Burns'.Â
Farewell to the village, the best on the plain
The low glens and green fields, which I'll ne'er see again;
Farewell to my sorrows, and farewell to my cares,
The old frail folks, and the lasses so dear;
5
At Kirk where I promised from folly to part,
The one that ensnared me I lie without smart;
But O, how the sons o' the lodge can I lay,
And gang to my lang hame, the cauld house o' clay?
I have been a Mason and a sad life I had
10
[T
hree missing lines are indicated here by astericks
]
Let Cowan and Craftsman be faithfully just,
Ne'er trifling with secrets, or babbling with trust;
Our place may be higher than those who more pray,
When eased from our lang hame, the cauld house o' clay.
15
You'll move round, Sons o' Fellowship, yearly move round,
On the long summer-day, say a part to St. John;
As true temples of worth let your tried bosoms stand,
And say faith and troth by the wave of your hand;
Be faithful and friendly to those who want skill,
20
And the plan you perverted be sure to fulfil.
Live up to your Principles â O that you may! â
When I'm in my lang house, the cauld house o' clay.
You will bury with honour the poor Widow's son,
While the folk from the old walls look curiously on.
25
When I am a stranger, and lying my lane,
You'll give me a round, aye, concerning the strain;
It is lost among nettles â you'll find if you search,
My tomb of remembrance is marked with an arch.
I am very low, Brethern; you'll wake the whole day,
30
And then take me hame, to my cauld house o' clay.Â
This is not mentioned in any published edition of Burns. It is printed as a work by Burns in a songsheet collection among papers in the Mitchell Library Nineteenth Century Newspaper Cuttings Collection (ref. G52942). The headnote reads: âThe last composition of the great Poet; as sung by Brother John Doherty (an old Mason of 83 years of age) at a meeting of Lodge No. 350, Omagh, Ireland, 1871'. The song supposedly turned up in 1871, but without manuscript. It is printed next to known works,
The Dumfries
Volunteers, To Mary In Heaven, Rantin' Rovin' Robin, O Tibbie I
Hae Seen the Day
and
Green Grow the Rashes O
. The lyrics are so bad that it is astounding they could be attributed to Burns. It is evidently a work from circa 1871 and fulfils Burns's worst fears about the parochialisation of his achievement.Â