spirit of poetry, and, like the music, will last for ever. Such verses, united to such an air, with the delicate harmony of Pleyel superadded, might form a treat worthy of being presented to Apollo himself. I have heard the sad story of your Mary: you always seem inspired when you write of her. No. VIII. BURNS TO G. THOMSON. Dumfries, 1st Dec. 1792. YOUR alterations of my "Nannie, O," are perfectly right. So are those of "My Wife's a winsome wee thing." Your alteration of the second stanza is a positive improvement. Now, my dear sir, with the freedom which characterizes our correspondence, I must not, cannot, alter "Bonnie Lesley." You are right, the word "Alexander" makes the line a little uncouth, but I think the thought is pretty. Of Alexander, beyond all other heroes, it may be said, in the sublime language of Scripture, that "he went forth conquering and to conquer." "For nature made her what she is, And never made anither." (Such a person as she is.) This is, in my opinion, more poetical than "Ne'er made sic anither." However, it is immaterial: make it either 66 way.* Caledonie," I agree with you, is not so good a word as could be wished, though it is sanctioned in three or four instances by Allan Ramsay; but I cannot help it. In short, that species of stanza is the most difficult that I have ever tried. The Lea-rig" is as follows. (Here the Poet repeats the first two stanzas, and adds an additional one. The whole of the song has been given in No. IV.) I am interrupted. No. IX. Yours, &c. "There's auld Rob Morris that wons in yon glen, He's the king o' guid fellows, and the wale o' auld men ; Dear father, he's doited, a shame to be seen; But auld Rob Morris he is a guid laird, And your daddy has nought but a cot-house and yard, But auld Rob Morris I never will hae, His back is sae stiff, and his beard is grown grey; Duncan Gray. I. DUNCAN Gray cam' here to woo, On blythe yule night when we were fou, "And never made anither." Burns often adopted emendations in which his better judg ment did not concur, because they were pressed by his cor respondent, to whose skill in the art of adapting words to music he looked with great confidence.] 2 G her ready wit, and her natural gaiety-her taste in song, and her skill in the dance, all united in endearing her to one whose muse caught inspiration from the presence of youth and beauty.] Galla Water. I. THERE'S braw, braw lads on Yarrow braes, That wander thro' the blooming heather; But Yarrow braes nor Ettrick shaws Can match the lads o' Galla Water. II. But there is ane, a secret ane, Aboon them a' I lo'e him better; And I'll be his, and he'll be mine, The bonnie lad o' Galla Water. III. Altho' his daddie was nae laird, And tho' I hae nae meikle tocher; Yet rich in kindest, truest love, We'll tent our flocks by Galla Water. IV. It ne'er was wealth, it ne'er was wealth, That coft contentment, peace, or pleasure; The bands and bliss o' mutual love, O that's the chiefest warld's treasure! Jan. 1793. Many returns of the season to you, my dear Sir. How comes on your publication? will these two foregoing be of any service to you? I should like to know what songs you print to each tune, besides the verses to which it is set. In short, I would wish to give you my opinion on all the poetry you publish. You know it is my trade, and a man in the way of his trade may suggest useful hints, that escape men of much superior parts and endowments in other things. If you meet with my dear and much-valued Cunningham, greet him, in my name, with the compliments of the season.-Yours, &c. "Lothian lads are black wi' reek, Teviot-dale is little better; But let them a' say what they will, We subjoin the old song of "Galla Water." "Braw, braw lads of Galla Water, O braw lads of Galla Water: And follow my love thro' the water. O'er yon bank, and o'er yon brae, That gar'd her greet till she was weary."] No. XI. G. THOMSON TO BURNS. Edinburgh, Jan. 20, 1793. You make me happy, my dear Sir, and thousands will be happy to see the charming songs you have sent me. Many merry returns of the season to you, and may you long continue, among the sons and daughters of Caledonia, to delight them and to honour yourself. The last four songs with which you favoured me, viz. "Auld Rob Morris," "Duncan Gray," "Galla Water," and "Cauld Kail," are admirable. Duncan is indeed a lad of grace, and his humour will endear him to every body. The distracted lover in "Auld Rob," and the happy shepherdess in "Galla Water," exhibit an excellent contrast: they speak from genuine feeling, and powerfully touch the heart. The number of songs which I had originally in view was limited; but I now resolve to include every Scotch air and song worth singing; leaving none behind but mere gleanings, to which the publishers of omne-gatherum are welcome. I would rather be the editor of a collection from which nothing could be taken away, than of one to which nothing could be added. We intend presenting the subscribers with two beautiful stroke engravings; the one characteristic of the plaintive, and the other of the lively, songs; and I have Dr. Beattie's promise of an essay upon the subject of our national music, if his health will permit him to write it. As a number of our songs have doubtless been called forth by particular events, or by the charms of peerless damsels, there must be many curious anecdotes relating to them. The late Mr. Tytler, of Woodhouselee, I believe, knew more of this than any body; for he joined to the pursuits of an antiquary a taste for poetry, besides being a man of the world, and possessing an enthusiasm for music beyond most of his contemporaries. He was quite pleased with this plan of mine, for I may say it has been solely managed by me, and we had several long conversations about it when it was in embryo. If I could simply mention the name of the heroine of each song, and the incident which occasioned the verses, it would be gratifying. Pray, will you send me any information of this sort, as well with regard to your own songs, as the old ones? To all the favourite songs of the plaintive or pastoral kind, will be joined the delicate accompaniments, &c., of Pleyel. To those of the comic and humourous class, I think accompaniments scarcely necessary; they are chiefly fitted for the conviviality of the festive board, and a tuneful voice, with a proper delivery of the words, renders them perfect. Nevertheless, to these I propose adding bass accompaniments, because then they are fitted either for singing, or for instrumental performance, when there happens to be no singer. I mean to employ our right trusty friend Mr. Clarke, to set the bass to these, which he assures me he will do con amore, and with much greater attention than he ever bestowed on anything of the kind. But for this last class of airs I will not attempt to find more than one set of verses. That eccentric bard, Peter Pindar, has started I know not how many difficulties about writing for the airs I sent to him, because of the peculiarity of their measure, and the trammels they impose on his flying Pegasus. I subjoin for your perusal the only one I have yet got from him, being for the fine air "Lord Gregory." The Scots verses, printed with that air, are taken from the middle of an old ballad, called "The Lass of Lochroyan," which I do not admire. I have set down the air, therefore, as a creditor of yours. Many of the Jacobite songs are replete with wit and humour: might not the best of these be included in our volume of comic songs? POSTSCRIPT. FROM THE HON. A. ERSKINE. MR. THOMSON has been so obliging as to give me a perusal of your songs. "Highland Mary" is most enchantingly pathetic, and "Duncan Gray" possesses native genuine humour: "" Spak o' lowpin o'er a linn," is a line of itself that should make you immortal. I sometimes hear of you from our mutual friend Cunningham, who is a most excellent fellow, ["Mr. Thomson is not remarkable for the correctness of his taste in regard to old Scottish ballads. The 'Lass of Lochroyan' is, we think, an instance in point."-MOTHERWELL.] and possesses, above all men I know, the charm of a most obliging disposition. You kindly promised me, about a year ago, a collection of your unpublished productions, religious and amorous; I know from experience how irksome it is to copy. If you will get any trusty per son in Dumfries to write them over fair, I will give Peter Hill whatever money he asks for his trouble, and I certainly shall not betray your confidence. I am your hearty admirer, No. XII. BURNS TO G. THOMSON. 26th January, 1793. I APPROVE greatly, my dear Sir, of your plans. Dr. Beattie's essay will of itself be a treasure. On my part I mean to draw up an appendix to the Doctor's essay, containing my stock of anecdotes, &c., of our Scots songs. All the late Mr. Tytler's anecdotes I have by me, taken down in the course of my acquaintance with him, from his own mouth. I am such an enthusiast that, in the course of my several peregrinations through Scotland, I made a pilgrimage to the individual spot from which every song took its rise, "Lochaber" and the "Braes of Ballenden" excepted. So far as the locality either from the title of the air, or the tenor of the song, could be ascertained, I have paid my devotions at the particular shrine of every Scots muse. I do not doubt but you might make a very valuable collection of Jacobite songs; but would it give no offence? In the mean time, do not you think that some of them, particularly "The Sow's Tail to Geordie," as an air, with other words, might be well worth a place in your collection of lively songs? If it were possible to procure songs of merit, it would be proper to have one set of Scots words to every air, and that the set of words to which the notes ought to be set. There is a naïveté, a pastoral simplicity, in a slight intermixture of Scots words and phraseology, which is more in unison (at least to my taste, and, I will add, to every genuine Caledonian taste) with the simple pathos, or rustic sprightliness of our native music, than any English verses whatever. The very name of Peter Pindar is an acquisition to your work. His "Gregory" is beautiful. I have tried to give you a set of stanzas in Scots, on the same subject, which It is one of the most beautiful compositions in the language. CUNNINGHAM. are at your service. Not that I intend to enter the lists with Peter; that would be presumption indeed. My song, though much inferior in poetic merit, has, I think, more of the ballad simplicity in it. Lord Gregory. I. O MIRK, mirk is this midnight hour, II. An exile frae her father's ha', And a' for loving thee; At least some pity on me shaw, If love it may na be. III. Lord Gregory, mind'st thou not the grove, Where first I own'd that virgin-love IV. How aften didst thou pledge and vow V. Hard is thy heart, Lord Gregory, Thou dart of heaven that flashest by, VI. Ye mustering thunders from above, My most respectful compliments to the honourable gentleman who favoured me with a Postscript in your last. He shall hear from me and receive his MSS. soon. R. B. [The following are two of the stanzas of "Fair Annie of Lochroyan :" "Sweet Annie built a bonnie ship, The sails were of the damask'd silk, The masts of silver free: The gladsome waters sung below, ["Of all the productions of Burns, the pathetic and serious love-songs which he has left behind him, in the manner of the old ballads, are perhaps those which take the A gentle wind came with a sweep, Such loveliness goes free; Make way for Annie of Lochroyan, She seeks Lord Gregorie!"' Wolcot complained, with many an oath, that Burns sought to rob him of the original merit of Lord Gregory. His song was, indeed, composed first, but the idea of both is borrowed from the old strain. The following is Wolcot's version: LORD GREGORY. "Ah ope, Lord Gregory, thy door! A midnight wanderer sighs, Hard rush the rains, the tempests roar, And lightnings cleave the skies. Who comes with woe at this drear night A pilgrim of the gloom? If she whose love did once delight, My cot shall yield her room. Alas! thou heard'st a pilgrim mourn Thou gav'st to love and me. But should'st thou not poor Marian know, I'll turn my feet and part; And think the storms that round me blow Far kinder than thy heart."] |