The Canongate Burns (87 page)
Read The Canongate Burns Online
Authors: Robert Burns
Tune: Duncan Davison.
First published by Currie, 1800.
O Mary, at thy window be,
       It is the wish'd, the trysted hour;
Those smiles and glances let me see,
       That make the miser's treasure poor:
How blythely wad I bide the stoure,
would, abide, dust/struggle
       A weary slave frae sun to sun;
from
Could I the rich reward secure,
       The lovely Mary Morison!Â
Yestreen when to the trembling string
yesterday evening
       The dance gaed thro' the lighted ha',
went, hall
To thee my fancy took its wing,
       I sat, but neither heard or saw:
Though this was fair, and that was braw,
fine/good-looking
       And yon the toast of a' the town,
an other, all
I sigh'd, and said amang them a',
among, all
       âYe are na Mary Morison.'
you are not
O Mary, canst thou wreck his peace,
       Wha for thy sake wad gladly die!
who, would
Or canst thou break that heart of his,
       Whase only faut is loving thee!
fault
If love for love thou wilt na gie,
will not give
       At least be pity to me shown;
A thought ungentle canna be
cannot be
       The thought o' Mary Morison.Â
This work was written somtime in the 1784â5 period. It is remarkable that Burns sent this song to George Thomson on 20th March, 1793 (Low has 1792) but he did not print it until 1818. Perhaps he
was influenced by Burns's self-deprecatory comment that the song prefixed was âone of my juvenile works. I leave it among your hands. I do not think it very remarkable, either for its merits, or demerits. It is impossible, at least I feel it in my stinted powers, to be always original, entertaining & witty' (Letter 540). Hugh MacDiarmid, on the other hand, rightly saw the song as a pure manifestation of the Scottish poetic spirit: âThe language of the Greeks is simple and concrete, without cliché s and rhetoric. But what Greek epigram has a more magical simplicity than Burns's âYe are na Mary Morison!', or where shall a parallel be found for the terrific concision, the vertiginous speed of
Tam o' Shanter'
(See
Albyn
or
The Future of
Scotland
).
Friend, Wm Muir in Tarbolton Miln
First published in Currie, 1800.
An honest man here lies at rest
As e'er God with His image blest.
The friend of man, the friend of truth;
The friend of Age, and guide of Youth:
Few hearts like his with virtue warm'd,
Few heads with knowledge so inform'd:
If there's another world, he lives in bliss;
If there is none, he made the best of this. â
A mock epitaph composed on a friend of the poet's family, William Muir (1745â93), and entered in the poet's
First Commonplace Book
, April 1784. Mackay errs by stating this epitaph was printed in the Kilmarnock edition (Mackay, p. 70).
First printed by Robert Chambers 1851.
In Tarbolton, ye ken, there are proper young men,
know
       And proper young lasses and a', man:
all
But ken ye the Ronalds that live in the Bennals,
know
       They carry the gree frae them a', man.
come off best from
5
Their father's a laird, and weel he can spare't,
well
       Braid money to tocher them a', man,
broad, dower
To proper young men, he'll clink in the hand
chink
       Gowd guineas a hunder or twa, man.
gold, a hundred or two
There's ane they ca' Jean, I'll warrant ye've seen
one, call
10
       As bonie a lass or as braw, man;
well dressed
But for sense and guid taste she'll vie wi' the best,
good
       And a conduct that beautifies a', man.
The charms o' the min', the langer they shine,
mind
       The mair admiration they draw, man;
more
15
While peaches and cherries, and roses and lilies,
       They fade and they wither awa, man.
away
If ye be for Miss Jean, tak this frae a frien',
take, from a friend
       A hint o' a rival or twa, man,
two
The Laird o' Blackbyre wad gang through the fire,
would go
20
       If that wad entice her awa, man.
would, away
The Laird o' Braehead has been on his speed
rushing about
       For mair than a towmond or twa, man;
more, twelve months, two
The Laird o' the Ford will straught on a board,
stretch
       If he canna get her at a', man.
cannot
25
Then Anna comes in, the pride o' her kin,
       The boast of our bachelors a', man:
Sae sonsy and sweet, sae fully complete,
so pleasant
       She steals our affections awa, man.
away
If I should detail the pick and the wale
choice, choicest
30
       O' lasses that live here awa, man,
about
The faut wad be mine, if they didna shine
fault would
       The sweetest and best o' them a', man.
I lo'e her mysel, but darena weel tell,
love, dare not well
       My poverty keeps me in awe, man,
35
For making o' rhymes, and working at times,
       Does little or naething at a', man.
nothing
Yet I wadna choose to let her refuse,
would not
       Nor hae't in her power to say na, man,
have it, no
For though I be poor, unnoticed, obscure,
40
       My stomach's as proud as them a', man.
Though I canna ride in well-booted pride,
cannot
       And flee o'er the hills like a craw, man.
fly, crow
I can haud up my head wi' the best o' the breed,
hold
       Though fluttering ever so braw, man.
fine
45
My coat and my vest, they are Scotch o' the best;
       O' pairs o' guid breeks I hae twa, man:
good trousers, have two
And stockings and pumps to put on my stumps,
       And ne'er a wrang steek in them a', man.
wrong stitch
My sarks they are few, but five o' them new,
shirts
50
       Twal'-hundred, as white as the snaw, man,
snow
A ten-shillings hat, a Holland cravat;
a linen neck-tie
       There are no monie Poets sae braw, man.
many, so well dressed
I never had frien's weel stockit in means,
friends well stocked, goods
       To leave me a hundred or twa, man,
two
55
Nae weel-tocher'd aunts, to wait on their drants
no well dowered, sulks
       And wish them in hell for it a', man.
I never was cannie for hoarding o' money,
careful
       Or claughtin't together at a', man,
grasping
I've little to spend and naething to lend,
nothing
60
       But devil a shilling I awe, man.
owe
This is a light jocular poem on a theme which in his work and life was to become increasingly, obsessively darker; that is Burns's need for not so much the materialism as the culture of women of a higher class. Mrs McLehose, Margaret Chalmers and Maria Riddell are the most prominent examples. The Ronalds of the Bennals here mentioned were the prosperous William Ronald and his two daughters Jean and Anna. Burns sends up their suitors and ends on a note of personal defiance as to his own appearance and worth but the uncrossable line of class (ll. 33â4) hurts all the same. De Lancey Ferguson suggests that the prospective wife mentioned in Letter 18 is, in fact, Anna Ronald. Whether she is or not, that letter does present the earliest manifestation of desire in Burns for matrimonial security relevant to this particular poem:
We talk of air & manner, of beauty & wit, and lord knows what unmeaning nonsense; but â there â is solid charms for you. â Who would not be in raptures with a woman that will make him
£
300 richer. â And then to have a woman to lye with when one
pleases, without running any risk of the cursed expence of bastards and all other concomitants of that species of Smuggling. âThese are solid views of matrimony.â (Letter 18)
Kinsley and Low note that William Ronald went bankrupt in 1789. Burns mentions this in a letter: âThe only Ayrshire news that I remember, in which I think you will be interested is, that Mr Ronald is bankrupt. You will easily guess that from his insolent vanity in his sunshine of life, he will now feel a little retaliation from those who thought themselves eclipsed by him, for, poor fellow! I do not think he ever intentionally injured any one' (Letter 372).
First printed by Chambers in 1851.
If ye gae up to yon hill-tap,
yonder
       Ye'll there see bonie Peggy:
pretty
She kens her father is a laird,
knows
       And she forsooth's a leddy.
lady
5
There's Sophy tight, a lassie bright,
       Besides a handsome fortune:
Wha canna win her in a night
who cannot
       Has little art in courtin.
Gae down by Faile, and taste the ale,
go
10
       And tak a look o' Mysie;
take
She's dour and din, a deil within,
stubborn; dirty complexion
       But aiblins she may please ye.
maybe/perhaps
If she be shy, her sister try,
       Ye'll may be fancy Jenny:
15
If ye'll dispense wi' want o' sense
with
       She kens hersel she's bonie.
knows herself
As ye gae up by yon hillside,
go
       Spier in for bonie Bessy:
call
She'll gie ye a beck, and bid ye light,
give, curtsy
20
       And handsomely address ye.
There's few sae bonie, nane sae guid
so, none so good
       In a' King George' dominion;
If ye should doubt the truth of this â
       It's Bessy's ain opinion.
own
Written about the same period as
The Ronalds of the Bennals,
in 1784. Faile, in Tarbolton parish, would have been little more than a few houses at this time. This jovial song is like a young man's tourist guide to the available young ladies of the area. For two main reasons it was unpublished until the mid-19th century. First, it is a slight work. Second, the young ladies were too easily identified at the time of writing.
Tune: Bonie Dundee
First printed by Currie in 1800.
In Mauchline there dwells six proper young Belles,
        The pride of the place and its neighbourhood a',
Their carriage and dress a stranger would guess,
        In Lon'on or Paris they'd gotten it a'.
Miss Millar is fine, Miss Murkland's divine,
        Miss Smith she has wit, and Miss Betty is braw;
There's beauty and fortune to get wi' Miss Morton,
        But ARMOUR'S the jewel for me o' them a'. â
This was composed probably just after the previous work, in late 1784 or early 1785. Robert Chambers furnished subsequent editors with the names of all six Mauchline lassies: Helen and Betty Miller, Jean Markland, Jean Smith, Christina Morton and the poet's subsequent wife, Jean Armour.
Tune: Ye Mauchline Belles
First printed in Currie, 1800.
O leave novels, ye Mauchline belles,
       Ye're safer at your spinning wheel;
Such witching books, are baited hooks
       For rakish rooks like Rob Mossgiel.
Your fine
Tom Jones
and
Grandisons
       They make your youthful fancies reel;
They heat your brains, and fire your veins,
       And then you're prey for Rob Mossgiel.
Beware a tongue that's smoothly hung;
       A heart that warmly seems to feel;
That feelin heart but acks a part,
acts
       âTis rakish art in Rob Mossgiel.
The frank address, the soft caress,
       Are worse than poisoned darts of steel,
The frank address, and politesse,
       Are all finesse in Rob Mossgiel.
The explosion of print culture from the 1770s had obviously penetrated into provincial Ayrshire. Burns's reading of what we now perceive as the canonical eighteenth-century English novelists is a fundamental element of his creative awareness. He responded to the opposing versions of sexuality found in Fielding (
Tom Jones
) and Richardson (
Sir Charles Grandison
); from the picaresque Jack-the-laddish to the lachrymose, claustrophobic hot-house. Though unmentioned here, Sterne's labyrinthine form and psychological development as well as his obsessive preoccupation with
double
entendres
were also avidly consumed and reactivated in Burns's work and life. There is, of course, a considerable degree of self-parody and self-irony present in the poem, playing on the poet's excessive reputation as a womaniser. For Burns's relationship to Sterne, see K. G. Simpson, âThe Impulse of Wit: Sterne and Burns's Letters' in
The Art of Robert Burns
, ed. Jack & Noble (London, 1982), pp. 151â90.