Hey, ca' thro', ca' thro',
For we hae mickle ado.
We hae tales to tell,
And we hae sangs to sing;
We hae pennies to spend,
And we hae pints to bring.
We'll live a' our days,
And them that come behin',
Let them do the like,
And spend the gear they win.
Hey, ca' thro', &c.
TUNE-Had I the wyte she bade me.
HAD I the wyte, had I the wyte,
Had I the wyte she bade me;
She watch'd me by the hie-gate side,
And up the loan she shawed me;
And when I wadna venture in,
A coward loon she ca'd me;
Had kirk and state been in the gate,
I lighted when she bade me.
Sae craftilie she took me ben,
And bade me make nae clatter;
"For our ramgunshoch glum gudeman
Is out and owre the water:"
Whae'er shall say I wanted grace
When I did kiss and dawte her,
Let him be planted in my place,
Syne say I was the fautor.
Could I for shame, could I for shame,
Could I for shame refused her?
And wadna manhood been to blame,
Had I unkindly used her?
The air to which Burns composed this song was called, "Come, kiss wi me, and clap wi' me," and some of the words may be found in an old lyric called, "Had I the wyte she bade me."
He claw'd her wi' the ripplin-kame,
And blue and bluidy bruised her;
When sic a husband was frae hame,
What wife but had excused her?
I dighted ay her een sae blue,
And bann'd the cruel randy;
And weel I wat her willing mou'
Was e'en like sugar-candy.
A gloamin-shot it was I trow,
I lighted on the Monday;
But I cam through the Tysday's dew,
To wanton Willie's brandy.
This is altered from an old favorite song of the same name.
TUNE-Coming through the rye.
COMING through the rye, poor body,
Coming through the rye,
She draiglet a' her petticoatie,
Coming through the rye.
Jenny 's a' wat, poor body,
Jenny's seldom dry;
She draiglet a' her petticoatie,
Coming through the rye.
Gin a body meet a body—
Coming through the rye;
Gin a body kiss a body-
Need a body cry?
Gin a body meet a body
Coming through the glen,
Gin a body kiss a body-
Need the world ken?
Jenny 's a' wat, poor body,
Jenny's seldom dry;
She draiglet a' her petticoatie,
Coming through the rye.
YOUNG JAMIE, PRIDE OF A' THE PLAIN.
TUNE-The carlin o' the glen.
YOUNG Jamie, pride of a' the plain,
Sae gallant and sae gay a swain;
Thro' a' our lasses he did rove,
And reign'd resistless king of love:
But now wi' sighs and starting tears,
He strays amang the woods and briers;
Or in the glens and rocky caves
His sad complaining dowie raves:
I wha sae late did range and rove,
And changed with every moon my love,
I little thought the time was near,
Repentance I should buy sae dear:
The slighted maids my torment see,
And laugh at a' the pangs I dree;
While she, my cruel, scornfu' fair,
Forbids me e'er to see her mair!
THE LASS OF ECCLEFECHAN.
TD is altered from an old song; the language is rendered more delicate, and the sentiment less warm, than in the original.
TUNE-Jacky Latin.
GAT ye me, oh gat ye me,
Oh gat ye me wi' naething?
Rock and reel, and spinnin'-wheel,
A mickle quarter basin.
Bye attour, my gutcher has
A hich house and a laigh ane,
A' for bye, my bonnie sel',
The toss of Ecclefechan.
Oh haud your tongue now, Luckie Laing,
Oh haud your tongue and jauner;
I held the gate 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, Luckie Laing,
Wad airt me to my treasure.
THE Cooper o' Cuddie cam' here awa,
And ca'd the girrs out owre us a’—
And our gude-wife has gotten a ca'
That anger'd the silly gude-man, O.
We'll hide the cooper behind the door,
Behind the door, behind the door;
We'll hide the cooper behind the door,
And cover him under a mawn, O.
He sought them out, he sought them in,
Wi', deil hae her! and, deil hae him!
But the body was sae doited and blin',
He wist na where he was gaun, O.
They cooper'd at e'en, they cooper'd at mörn,
'Till our gude-man has gotten the scorn;
On ilka brow she's planted a horn,
And swears that they shall stan', 0.
We'll hide the cooper behind the door,
Behind the door, behind the door;
We'll hide the cooper behind the door,
And cover him under a mawn, O.
THE CARDIN' O'T.2
TUNE-Sall-fish and dumplings.
I COFT a stane o' haslock woo',
To make a wat to Johnie o't;
For Johnie is my only jo,
I lo'e him best of onie yet.
1 The delicacy of this song cannot be compared to its wit. Burns was in all respects the poet of the people, and no man in wide Scotland had so many merry tales to tell, and so many joyous songs to sing.—Cunningham.
2 The tenderness of Johnie's wife can only be fully felt by those who know that hause-lock wool is the softest and finest of the fleece, and is shorn from the throats of sheep in the summer heat, to give them air and keep them cool.-Cunningham.
The cardin o't, the spinnin' o't,
The warpin' o't, the winnin' o't;
When ilka ell cost me a groat,
The tailor staw the lynin o't.
For though his locks be lyart gray,
And tho' his brow be beld aboon,
Yet I hae seen him on a day,
The pride of a' the parishen.
The cardin o't, &c.
TUNE-Dalkeith Maiden Bridge.
Он sad and heavy should I part,
But for her sake sae far awa;
Unknowing what my way may thwart,
My native land sae far awa.
Thou that of a' things Maker art,
That form'd this fair sae far awa,
Gie body strength, then I'll ne'er start
At this my way sae far awa.
How true is love to pure desert,
So love to her, sae far awa:
And nocht can heal my bosom's smart,
While, oh! she is sae far awa.
Nane other love, nane other dart,
I feel but hers, sae far awa;
But fairer never touch'd a heart
Than hers, the fair sae far awa.
1 The youth of Scotland for many years have been much influenced by the spirit of enterprise. With the exception of a few districts, in which manu. factures have been introduced, the country is poor, and affords little en couragement to the hardy race to whom it gives birth. The present song is a beautiful expression of attachment to his fair one, who is "far awa."
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