O STEER HER UP

ON peace an' rest my mind was bent,
And, fool I was! I married;
But never honest man's intent
Sae cursedly miscarried.
O aye my wife, &c.

Some sairie comfort at the last,
When a' thir days are done, man,
My pains o' hell on earth is past,
I'm sure o' bliss aboon, man,
O aye my wife, &c.

Gude Ale keeps the Heart aboon.1
Chorus-O gude ale comes and gude ale goes;
Gude ale gars me sell my hose,

Sell my hose, and pawn my shoon-
Gude ale keeps my heart aboon!

I HAD sax owsen in a pleugh,
And they drew a' weel eneugh:
I sell'd them a' just ane by ane—
Gude ale keeps the heart aboon!
O gude ale comes, &c.

Gude ale hauds me bare and busy,
Gars me moop wi' the servant hizzie,
Stand i' the stool when I hae done-
Gude ale keeps the heart aboon!

O gude ale comes, &c.

O steer her up an' haud her gaun.2

C

O STEER her up, an' haud her gaun,d

Her mither's at the mill, jo;

An' gin she winna tak a man,
E'en let her tak her will, jo.

b take up.

sorry.
1 Partly traditional.

⚫ stir.

a keep her going.

2 A new version of an old song.

THE LASS O' ECCLEFECHAN

a threaten.

First shore her wi' a gentle kiss,
And ca' anither gill, jo;
An' gin she tak the thing amiss,
E'en let her flyte her fill, jo.

O steer her up, an' be na blate,
An' gin she tak it ill, jo,
Then leave the lassie till her fate,
And time nae langer spill, jo:
Ne'er break your heart for ae rebute,d
But think upon it still, jo:
That gin the lassie winna do't,
Ye'll find anither will, jo.

• over and above.

I kept the path.

The Lass o' Ecclefechan.1

Tune-" Jack o' Latin."

GAT ye me, O gat ye me,

O gat ye me wi' naething?
Rock an reel, and spinning wheel,
A mickle quarter bason:

Bye attour my Gutcher' has

A heich house and a laich ane,

A' forbye my bonie sel,

The toss o' Ecclefechan.

O haud your tongue now, Lucky Lang,
O haud your tongue and jaunerh

I held the gate1 till you I met,
Syne I began to wander :

I tint my whistle and my sang,
I tint my peace and pleasure;

But your green graff, now Lucky Lang,
Wad airt' me to my treasure.

goodsire, grandfather. J lost.

1 Burns writes of this place as Hogg does of "the great wicked village of

• backward.

& belle.

k

grave. Balmawhapple."

d rebuff.

h chatter.

1 direct.

LET ME IN THIS AE NIGHT

O let me in this ae Night.

O LASSIE, are ye sleepin yet,
Or are ye waukin, I wad wit?
For Love has bound me hand an' fit,
And I would fain be in, jo.

Chorus.-O let me in this ae night,
This ae, ae, ae night;

O let me in this ae night,
I'll no come back again, jo!

O hear'st thou not the wind an' weet?
Nae star blinks thro' the driving sleet;
Tak pity on my weary feet,

And shield me frae the rain, jo.
O let me in, &c.

The bitter blast that round me blaws,
Unheeded howls, unheeded fa's;
The cauldness o' thy heart's the cause
Of a' my care and pine, jo.
O let me in, &c.

HER ANSWER.

O tell na me o' wind an' rain,
Upbraid na me wi' cauld disdain,
Gae back the gate ye cam again,
I winna let ye in, jo.

Chorus.-I tell you now this ae night,

This ae, ae, ae night;

And ance for a' this ae night,

I winna let ye in, jo.

The original is old and was popular.

I'LL AYE CA' IN BY YON TOWN

The snellest blast, at mirkest hours,
That round the pathless wand'rer pours
Is nocht to what poor she endures,
That's trusted faithless man, jo.
I tell you now, &c.

The sweetest flower that deck'd the mead,
Now trodden like the vilest weed-

Let simple maid the lesson read

The weird may be her ain, jo.
I tell you now, &c.

The bird that charm'd his summer day,
Is now the cruel Fowler's prey;
Let witless, trusting, Woman say
How aft her fate's the same, jo!
I tell you now, &c.

I'll aye ca' in by yon Town.1

Air-"I'll gang nae mair to yon toun."

Chorus.-I'll aye ca' in by yon town,

And by yon garden-green again;
I'll aye ca' in by yon town,

And see my bonie Jean again.

There's nane sall ken, there's nane can guess
What brings me back the gate again,

But she, my fairest faithfu' lass,

And stownlins we sall meet again.
I'll aye ca' in, &c.

She'll wander by the aiken tree,

When trystin time draws near again;

And when her lovely form I see,

O haith! she's doubly dear again.

I'll aye ca' in, &c.

⚫ secretly.

1 Town is not a city, but a tûn: a farm-stead and the cottages around it.

WAT YE WHA'S IN YON TOWN

O wat ye wha's in Yon Town.1

Tune-"I'll gang nae mair to yon toun."
Chorus-O wat ye wha's in yon town,
Ye see the e'enin sun upon,
The dearest maid's in yon town,
That e'ening sun is shining on.

Now haply down yon gay green shaw,
She wanders by yon spreading tree;
How blest ye flowers that round her blaw,
Ye catch the glances o' her e'e!

O wat ye wha's, &c.

How blest ye birds that round her sing,
And welcome in the blooming year;
And doubly welcome be the Spring,

The season to my Jeanie dear.

O wat ye wha's, &c.

The sun blinks blythe in yon town,
Among the broomy braes sae green;2

But my delight in yon town,

And dearest pleasure, is my Jean.3
O wat ye wha's, &c.

Without my Fair, not a' the charms
O' Paradise could yield me joy;
But give me Jeanie in my arms
And welcome Lapland's dreary sky!
O wat ye wha's, &c.

My cave wad be a lover's bower,
Tho' raging Winter rent the air;
And she a lovely little flower,

That I wad tent and shelter there.
O wat ye wha's, &c.

1 Adapted afterwards as a tribute to Mrs Oswald of Auchencruive. This involved the change of "Jeanie" to "Lucy."

2" And on yon bonie braes of Ayr." 3 "And dearest bliss is Lucy fair.'