Tune-"I am a man unmarried."
[Nelly Blair, the heroine of this song, was a servant in Ayrshire. "This composition," says Burns, "was the first of my performances, and done at an early period of my life, when my heart glowed with honest, warm simplicity, unacquainted and uncorrupted with the ways of a wicked world."]
Он, once I loved a bonnie lass,
Ay, and I love her still;
And whilst that virtue warms my
I'll love my handsome Nell.
Fal, lal de ral, &c.
As bonnie lasses I ha'e seen,
And mony full as braw;
But for a modest, gracefu' mien,
The like I never saw.
A bonnie lass, I will confess,
Is pleasant to the e'e,
But without some better qualities
She's no a lass for me.
But Nelly's looks are blithe and sweet;
Aud, what is best of a',
Her reputation is complete,
And fair without a flaw.
She dresses aye sae clean and neat,
Baith decent and genteel;
And then there's something in her gait
Garsony dress look weel.
A gaudy dress and gentle air
May slightly touch the heart;
But it's Innocence and Modesty
That polishes the dart.
"Tis this in Nelly pleases me,
"Tis this enchants my soul!
For absolutely in my breast
She reigns without control.
OH, raging Fortune's withering blast
Has laid my leaf full low, O!
Oh, raging Fortune's withering blast
Has laid my leaf full low, O!
My stem was fair, my bud was green,
My blossom sweet did blow, O;
The dew fell fresh, the sun rose mild,
And made my branches grow, O.
But luckless Fortune's northern storms
Laid a' my blossoms low, O;
But luckless Fortune's northern storms
Laid a' my blossoms low, Q.
I DREAMED I LAY WHERE FLOWERS WERE SPRINGING.
["These stanzas," says the Poet, "which are amongst the oldest of my printed pieces, composed when I was seventeen."]
I DREAMED I lay where flowers were springing
Gaily in the sunny beam,
Listening to the wild birds singing
By a falling crystal stream:
Straight the sky grew black and daring;
Through the woods the whirlwinds rave;
Trees with aged arms were warring,
O'er the swelling, drumlie wave.
O TIBBIE, I HA'E SEEN THE DAY.
Such was my life's deceitful morning,
Such the pleasures I enjoyed;
But lang or noon, loud tempests storming,
A' my flowery bliss destroyed.
Though fickle Fortune has deceived me,
(She promised fair and performed but ill,)
Of mony a joy and hope bereaved me,
I bear a heart shall support me still.
O TIBBIE, I HA'E SEEN THE DAY.'
[Composed at seventeen years of age.]
Tune--"Invercauld's Reel."
O TIBBIE! I ha'e seen the day
Ye wad na been sae shy;
For laik o' gear ye lightly me,
But, trowth, I care na by.
Yestreen I met you on the moor,
Ye spak' na, but gaed by like stoure⚫
Ye geck at me because I'm poor,
But fient a hair care I.
I doubt na, lass, but ye may think,
Because ye ha'e the name o' clink,
That ye can please me at a wink,
Whene'er ye like to try.
But sorrow tak' him that's sae mean,
Although his pouch o' coin were clean,
Wha follows such a saucy quean,
That looks sae proud and high.
Although a lad were e'er sae smart,
If that he want the yellow dirt,
Ye'll cast your head anither airt,
And answer him fu' dry.
But if he ha'e the name o' gear,
Ye'll fasten to him like a brier,
Though hardly he, for sense or lear,
Be better than the kye.
was the daughter of a portioner of Kyle-i.e. the proprietor of three acres of peat-moss-who thought herself rich enough to treat a ploughman with contempt.
But, Tibbie, lass, tak' my advice:
Your daddie's gear mak's you sae nice;
The de'il a ane wad spier your price,
Were ye as poor as I.
There lives a lass in yonder park,
I would nae gi'e her in her sark
For thee, wi' a' thy thousan' mark!
Ye need na look sae high.
Tune-"The Weaver and his shuttle, O."
My father was a farmer
Upon the Carrick border, O,
And carefully he bred me
In decency and order, O;
He bade me act a manly part,
Though I had ne'er a farthing, O,
For without an honest, manly heart,
No man was worth regarding, O.
Then out into the world
My course did determine, O;
Though to be rich was not my wish,
Yet to be great was charming, O.
My talents they were not the worst,
Nor yet my education, O;
Resolved was I at least to try
To mend my situation, O.
In many a way, and vain essay,
I courted Fortune's favour, O;
Some cause unseen still stept between,
To frustrate each endeavour, 0:
Sometimes by foes I was o'erpowered;
Sometimes by friends forsaken, O;
And when my hope was at the top,
I still was worst mistaken, O.
Then sore harassed, and tired at last,
With Fortune's vain delusion, O,
I dropt my schemes, like idle dreams,
And came to this conclusion, 0:
The past was bad, and the future hid;
It's good or ill untried, O;
But the present hour was in my power,
And so I would enjoy it, O,
No help, nor hope, nor view had I,
Nor person to befriend me, O;
So I must toil, and sweat, and broil,
And labour to sustain me, O.
To plough and sow,
to reap
and mow,
My father bred me early, O;
For one, he said, to labour bred,
Was a match for fortune fairly, O.
Thus, all obscure, unknown and poor,
Through life I'm doomed to wander, O,
Till down my weary bones I lay,
In everlasting slumber, O.
No view nor care, but shun whate'er
Might breed me pain or sorrow, 0;
I live to-day as well's I may,
Regardless of to-morrow, O.
But cheerful still, I am as well
As a monarch in a palace, O,
Though Fortune's frown still hunts me down
With all her wonted malice, O;
I make indeed my daily bread,
But ne'er can make it farther, O;
But, as daily bread is all I need,
I do not much regard her, O.
When sometimes by my labour
I earn a little money, O,
Some unforeseen misfortune
Comes gen'rally upon me, O;
Mischance, mistake, or by neglect,
Or my good-natured folly, O:
But come what will, I've sworn it still,
I'll ne'er be melancholy, O.
All you who follow wealth and power
With unremitting ardour, O,
The more in this you look for bliss,
You leave your view the farther, O.
Had you the wealth Potosi boasts,
Or nations to adore you, O,
A cheerful honest-hearted clown
I will prefer before you, O.
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