Read The Canongate Burns Online
Authors: Robert Burns
First printed in Johnson's S.M.M., Vol. 4, 13th August 1792.
 Turn again, thou fair Eliza,
        Ae kind blink before we part;
one, glance
Rew on thy despairing Lover,
have pity
        Canst thou break his faithfu' heart!
5
Turn again, thou fair Eliza,
        If to love thy heart denies,
For pity hide the cruel sentence
        Under friendship's kind disguise!
Thee, sweet maid, hae I offended?
have
10
        The offence is loving thee:
Canst thou wreck his peace for ever,
        Wha for thine wad gladly die!
who
While the life beats in my bosom,
        Thou shalt mix in ilka throe:
every
15
Turn again, thou lovely maiden,
        Ae sweet smile on me bestow. â
one
Not the bee upon the blossom,
        In the pride o' sinny noon;
sunny
Not the little sporting fairy,
20
        All beneath the simmer moon;
summer
Not the Poet in the moment
        Fancy lightens in his e'e,
eye
Kens the pleasure, feels the rapture,
knows
        That thy presence gies to me.
gives
It is assumed this song was the result of a promise by Burns to James Johnson that he would compose a love song for him on a lady: âHave you never a fair Godess that leads you a wild-goose-chase of amorous devotion?⦠and I shall task my Muse to celebrate her' (Letter 258).
First printed in Johnson's S.M.M., Vol. 4, 13th August 1792.
Ye Jacobites by name, give an ear, give an ear;
       Ye Jacobites by name, give an ear;
              Ye Jacobites by name
                     Your fautes I will proclaim,
faults
5
                            Your doctrines I maun blame,
will
                                   You shall hear. âÂ
What is Right, and what is Wrang, by the law, by the law?
       What is Right, and what is Wrang, by the law?
              What is Right, and what is Wrang?
10
                     A short Sword, and a lang,
long
                            A weak arm, and a strang
                                   For to draw. âÂ
What makes heroic strife, fam'd afar, fam'd afar?
       What makes heroic strife, fam' d afar?
15
              What makes heroic strife?
                     To whet th' Assassin's knife,
                            Or hunt a Parent's life
                                   Wi' bludie war. â
bloody
Â
 Then let your schemes alone, in the State, in the State,
20
       Then let your schemes alone in the State,
              Then let your schemes alone,
                     Adore the rising sun,
                            And leave a Man undone
                                   To his fate. âÂ
This song has generally been seen as a traditional Whig anti-Jacobite polemic. This would be an unusual viewpoint for Burns. Donaldson (pp. 85â6) produces a subtle, complex reading which reveals it as a Jacobite's renunciatory perception of the terrible, ideological violence that pervades
all
political systems.
First printed in Johnson's S.M.M., Vol. 4, 13th August 1792.
O luve will venture in where it daur na weel be seen,
dare not well
O luve will venture in where wisdom ance hath been;
once
But I will doun yon river rove, amang the woods sae green,
down, so
      And a' to pu' a posie to my ain dear May. â
pull, own
5
The primrose I will pu', the firstling o' the year;
And I will pu' the pink, the emblem o' my Dear,
For she's the pink o' womankind, and blooms without a peer;
      And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May. â
I'll pu' the budding rose when Phoebus peeps in view,
the Sun
10
For it's like a baumy kiss o' her sweet, bonie mou;
mouth
The hyacinth's for constancy, wi' its unchanging blue,
      And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May. â
The lily it is pure, and the lily it is fair,
And in her lovely bosom I'll place the lily there;
15
The daisy's for simplicity and unaffected air,
      And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May. â
The hawthorn I will pu', wi' its locks o' siller gray,
silver
Where, like an agèd man it stands at break o' day;
But the songster's nest within the bush I winna tak away;
will not
20
      And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May. â
The woodbine I will pu' when the e'ening star is near,
And the diamond draps o' dew shall be her een sae clear;
drops, eyes so
The violet's for modesty which weel she fa's to wear,
well has a right
      And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May. â
25
I'll tie the posie round wi' the silken band o' luve,
And I'll place it in her breast, and I'll swear by a' abuve,
above
That to my latest draught o' life the band shall ne'er
remuve
, remove
      And this will be a posie to my ain dear May.
This beautiful lyric originates with Mrs Jean Burns, who rarely receives credit for her role in singing old and new songs to the poet â a valuable service to any songwriter. Burns was delighted with the song
There was a Pretty May, and A-Milkin' She Went
as sung to
him by Jean. He composed new lyrics for the song and wrote to Thomson several years later that it was âMy composition ⦠the old words are trash' (Letter 644).
B.C.
, 1922, p. 9 gives the traditional lyric.
Tune: Cambdelmore
First printed in Johnson's S.M.M., Vol. 4, 13th August 1792.
Ye flowery banks o' bonie Doon,
      How can ye blume sae fair;
bloom so
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
      And I sae fu' o' care!
so full
5
Thou'll break my heart, thou bonie bird
      That sings upon the bough;
Thou minds me o' the happy days
      When my fause luve was true.
false
Thou'll break my heart, thou bonie bird
10
      That sings beside thy mate;
For sae I sat, and sae I sang,
so
      And wist na o' my fate.
knew nothing
Aft hae I rov'd by bonie Doon,
often have
      To see the wood-bine twine,
15
And ilka bird sang o' its luve,
each
      And sae did I o' mine.
so
Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose
pulled
      Frae aff its thorny tree,
from off
And my fause luver staw my rose,
false, stole
20
      But left the thorn wi' me.
Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose,
pulled
      Upon a morn in June:
And sae I flourish'd on the morn,
so
      And sae was pu'd or noon!
so, pulled ere
This is essentially the first version of
Ye Banks and Braes
, set to a different tune than the final version. The contrast between birds and singer is simple but emotionally profound.
Tune: The Caledonian Hunt's Delight
First printed in Johnson's S.M.M., Vol. 4, 13th August 1792.
Ye banks and braes o' bonie Doon,
hill slopes
       How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair;
so
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
       And I sae weary, fu' o' care!
so
5
Thou'll break my heart, thou warbling bird,
       That wantons thro' the flowering thorn:
Thou minds me o' departed joys,
       Departed never to return. â
Aft hae I rov'd by bonie Doon,
often have
10
       To see the rose and woodbine twine;
And ilka bird sang o' its Luve,
each
       And fondly sae did I o' mine. â
so
Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose,
pulled
       Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree;
15
And my fause Luver staw my rose,
stole
       But, ah! he left the thorn wi' me. â
Although a revision of the earlier lyric set to a different air, both were printed in the same volume by Johnson. This version brings the song to a perfect pitch.
Tune: The Eight Men of Moidart
First printed in Johnson's S.M.M., Vol. 4, 13th August 1792.
Willie Wastle dwalls on Tweed,
dwelt
       The spot they ca' it Linkumdoddie.
called
A creeshie wabster till his trade,
weaver good
       Can steal a clue wi' ony bodie:
any
He has a wife that's dour and din,
sulky, pale
       Tinkler Madgie was her mither;
gypsy, mother
Sic a wife as Willie's wife,
such
       I wadna gie a button for her. â
would not give
She has an e'e, she has but ane,
eye, one
       The cat has twa, the very colour;
two
Five rusty teeth, forbye a stump,
also
       A clapper-tongue wad deave a miller:
would deafen
5
A whiskin beard about her mou,
mouth
       Her nose and chin they threaten ither;
each other
Sic a wife as Willie's wife,
such
       I wadna gie a button for her. â
would not give
She's bow-hough'd, she's hem-shin'd,
bandy-legged, splayed feet
10
       Ae limpin leg a hand-bread shorter;
one, hand-breadth/size
She's twisted right, she's twisted left,
       To balance fair in ilka quarter:
each
She has a hump upon her breast,
       The twin o' that upon her shouther;
shoulder
15
Sic a wife as Willie's wife,
       I wadna gie a button for her. â
Auld baudrans by the ingle sits,
old cat, fireside
       An' wi' her loof her face a washin;
paw
But Willie's wife is nae sae trig,
not so dainty
20
       She dights her grunzie wi' a hushian:
wipes, mouth, arm stockings
Her waly nieves like midden-creels,
big fists, byre baskets
       Her face wad fyle the Logan-water;
would foul
Sic a wife as Willie's wife,
       I wadna gie a button for her. â
A splendid exercise in the comic grotesque derived from the Scottish flyting tradition and eighteenth-century cartoon caricature. The word âclue' (l. 4) is from âclew', thread. Part of the craft must have been a proficiency in stealing material. Linkumdoddie was apparently once a village or hamlet five miles from Broughton, near the Logan Water's confluence with the Tweed.
First printed in Johnson's S.M.M., Vol. 4, 13th August 1792.
O Lady Mary Ann looks o'er the castle-wa',
wall
She saw three bonie boys playing at the ba',
ball
The youngest he was the flower amang them a',
       My bonie laddie's young but he's growin yet. â
5
O Father, O Father, an ye think it fit,
We'll send him a year to the College yet,
We'll sew a green ribban round about his hat,
ribbon
       And that will let them ken he's to marry yet. â
know
Lady Mary Ann was a flower in the dew,
10
Sweet was its smell and bonie was its hue,
And the langer it blossom'd, the sweeter it grew,
longer
       For the lily in the bud will be bonier yet. â
Young Charlie Cochran was the sprout of an aik,
oak
Bonie, and bloomin and straucht was its make,
straight, like
15
The sun took delight to shine for its sake,
And it will be the brag o' the forest yet. â
boast
The Simmer is gane when the leaves they were green,
summer, gone
And the days are awa that we hae seen,
away, have
But far better days I trust will come again,
20
       For my bonie laddie's young but he's growin yet. â
This is adapted from an old song Burns may have heard sung. Hans Hecht quotes the old words in
Songs From David Herd's Manu
scripts
(1904, p. 145) â âShe looked o'er the castle wa', /She saw three Lords play at the ba': /O the youngest is the flower of a', /But my love is lang o' growing'. The difference in metre with the traditional verse is due to Burns matching his revised lyric to a new tune.