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While water wimples to the sea,
The song is partly old and partly new; what is old is very old, what is new was written by a gentleman of the name of Pagan. The last verse is very sweet and sincere. To render the song more consistent I have omitted one verse, in which the heroine is made to express her apprehensions of a moonlight walk by the river side, though she had been before on the banks of the same stream, and “rowed sweetly" in her shepherd's plaid. It is a very pleasant pastoral, and was once very popular. Its truth can be felt by all who have led out their flocks to pasture by the green, braes, on the heathy hills, and by the running streams. Burns says, song
is in the true old Scottish taste, yet I do not know that either air or words were ever in print before." It has a border sound; and the line,
wi' you, my shepherd lad,
is Annandale or Eskdale, and, I believe, good Yarrow.
Come gie's a sang, Montgomery cried,
For what's been done before them?
To drop their whigmegmorum.
The reel of Tullochgorum.
Tullochgorum's my delight,
In conscience I abhor him.
And mak’a cheerfu' quorum.
The reel of Tullochgorum.
There needs na be sae great a phraize,
For half a hundred score o 'em. They're douff and dowie at the best, Douff and dowie, douff and dowie, They're douff and dowie at the best,
Wi' a' their variorum. They're douff and dowie at the best, Their allegros, and a' the rest, They canna please a Highland taste
Compared wi' Tullochgorum.
Let warldly minds themselves oppress Wi' fear of want, and double cess, And silly sauls themselves distress
Wi' keeping up decorum. Shall we sae sour and sulky sit, Sour and sulky, sour and sulky, Shall we sae sour and sulky sit,
Like auld Philosophorum? Shall we sae sour and sulky sit, Wi' neither sense, nor mirth, nor wit, And canna rise to shake a fit
At the reel of Tullochgorum?
May choicest blessings still attend
friend, And calm and quiet be his end,
And a' that's good watch o'er him!
May peace and plenty be his lot,
And dainties a great store o'em!
he never want a groat
But for the discontented fool
And discontent devour him!
And honest souls abhor him!
The reel of Tullochgorum!
The Reverend John Skinner wrote this song; and Burns speaks of it with a rapture which I hope was real, for I would rather suppose that his judgment was for once infirm, than imagine him insincere. His words are and they are exceedingly characteristic
Accept in plain dull prose my most sincere thanks for the best poetical compliment I ever received. I assure you, Sir, as a poet, you have conjured up an airy demon of vanity in my fancy which the best abilities in your other capacity will be ill able to lay. I regretand while I live shall regret that when I was north I had not the pleasure of paying a younger brother's dutiful respect to the author of the best Scotchi song ever Scotland saw, " Tullochgorum's my delight.” The world may think slightly of the craft of song-making, if they please; but as Job says, 'Othat mine adversary had written a book! Let them try.”
Tullochgorum is indeed a lively clever song, but I would never have edited this collection had I thought with Burns, that it is the best Scotch song Scotland
I may say with the king in my favourite ballad, I trust I have within
realm Five hundred good as he.
When I upon thy bosom lean,
And fondly clasp thee a' my ain,,,
That made us ane, wha ance were twain.
The tender look, the melting kiss :
But only gie us change o' bliss.