The Canongate Burns (118 page)
Read The Canongate Burns Online
Authors: Robert Burns
Tune: My ain kind dearie, O.
First printed in Currie, 1800.
When o'er the hill the eastern star
      Tells bughtin-time is near, my jo,
ewe-milking, dear
And owsen frae the furrow'd field
oxen from, ploughed
      Return sae dowf and weary, O:
weak/listless
5
Down by the burn where scented birks
birches
      Wi' dew are hangin clear, my jo,
I'll meet thee on the lea-rig,
sheltered ridge
      My ain kind Dearie, O.
own
At midnight hour, in mirkest glen,
darkest
10
      I'd rove, and ne'er be eerie O,
afraid
If thro' that glen I gaed to thee,
go
      My ain kind Dearie, O:
own
Altho' the night were ne'er sae wild,
so
      And I were ne'er sae weary O,
so
15
I'll meet thee on the lea-rig,
      My ain kind Dearie, O.
own
The hunter lo'es the morning sun,
loves
      To rouse the mountain deer, my jo,
dear/darling
At noon the fisher takes the glen,
20
      Adown the burn to steer, my jo;
to wander
Gie me the hour o' gloamin grey,
give, almost nightfall
      It maks my heart sae cheery O,
so
To meet thee on the lea-rig
      My ain kind Dearie O.
own
Although based on an old song, this lyric has been considerably improved by Burns. Robert Fergusson's earlier version,
The Lee
Rig
, is also commendable but lacks the darker erotic edge of the Burns poem.
â
original
First printed in Thomson's
Select Collection
, 1798.
Duncan Gray cam here to woo,
find romance
      Ha, ha, the wooing o't,
On blythe Yule-night when we were fu',
Christmas, drunk
      Ha, ha, the wooing o't.
5
Maggie coost her head fu' high,
tossed, full
      Look'd asklent and unco skeigh,
askance, very disdainful
Gart poor Duncan stand abeigh,
made, at a distance
      Ha, ha, the wooing o't.
Duncan fleech'd, and Duncan pray'd;
flattered
10
      Ha, ha, the wooing o't,
Meg was deaf as Ailsa craig
a stone (Island off Girvan)
      Ha, ha, the wooing o't.
Duncan sigh'd baith out and in,
both
      Grat his een baith bleer't an' blin',
cried, eyes both, bleary
15
Spak o' lowpin o'er a linn;
spoke, jumping, waterfall
      Ha, ha, the wooing o't.
Time and Chance are but a tide,
      Ha, ha, the wooing o't.
Slighted love is sair to bide,
sore, tolerate
20
      Ha, ha, the wooing o't.
Shall I, like a fool, quoth he,
      For a haughty hizzie die?
stern hussy
She may gae to â France for me! â
go
      Ha, ha, the wooing o't.
25
How it comes, let Doctors tell,
      Ha, ha, the wooing o't,
Meg grew sick as he grew hale,
healthy
      Ha, ha, the wooing o't.
Something in her bosom wrings,
30
      â For relief a sigh she brings;
And O her een they spak sic things!
eyes, spoke such
      Ha, ha, the wooing o't!
Duncan was a lad o' grace,
      Ha, ha, the wooing o't.
35
Maggie's was a piteous case,
      Ha, ha, the wooing o't.
Duncan could na be her death,
not
      â Swelling pity smoor'd his Wrath;
smothered
Now they're crouse and canty baith,
merry, cheerful both
40
      Ha, ha, the wooing o't.
An earlier version by Burns was sent to Johnson for the S.M.M. but this version sent to Thomson was his final draft. The traditional song can be found in Herd's collection (1769) but here Burns has adapted it considerably. Another version exists in
The Merry Muses
of Caledonia
, the poet's collection of bawdy verse. It is one of the more popular, recorded songs by modern folk performers.
First printed in Stewart, 1802.
In politics if thou would'st mix,
      And mean thy fortunes be;
Bear this in mind, be deaf and blind,
      Let great folks hear and see.
This untitled epigram was written in pencil, according to Robert Ainslie, on the reverse of an envelope received by Burns from Excise Commissioner Robert Graham in early January 1793. This context would explain the epigram as a spontaneous response to the poet's chastisement to keep his nose out of politics. Ainslie's letter, dated 3rd September, 1834, states that the poet was a covert member of the radical Friends of the People and:
The Commissioners of Excise, irritated at his opinions, wrote him a formal official letter, dealing with the large seal of office, informing him that a âpetty officer' had âno business with politics'. The proud heart of Burns did not like this humbling; after a few wrathful words in secret to one of his friends, he took a pencil and wrote these lines on the envelope (See footnote, Cunningham's edition, 1834, p. 725).
This is probably an accurate account of the verse's origin. Kinsley (K536) misdates composition and guesses, wrongly, that the lines were inscribed on a window in The Globe Tavern, Dumfries.
Tune: Cauld Kail in Aberdeen
First printed in Thomson's Select Collection, 1798.
O Poortith cauld and restless love,
poverty cold
      Ye wrack my peace between ye;
Yet poortith a' I could forgive
poverty all
      An 'twere na for my Jeanie.
not
Chorus
5
O why should Fate sic pleasure have,
such
      Life's dearest bands untwining?
Or why sae sweet a flower as love
so
      Depend on Fortune's shining?
The warld's wealth when I think on,
world's
10
      Its pride and a' the lave o't;
all, rest of it
My curse on silly coward man,
      That he should be the slave o't!
             O why should Fate, &c.
Her een sae bonie blue betray,
eyes so
      How she repays my passion;
15
But prudence is her o'erword ay,
refrain, always
      She talks o' rank and fashion.
             O why should Fate, &c.
O wha can prudence think upon,
who
      And sic a lassie by him:
such
O wha can prudence think upon,
who
20
      And sae in love as I am?
so
             O why should Fate, &c.
How blest the wild-wood Indian's fate,
      He woos his artless Dearie:
The silly bogles, Wealth and State,
demons
      Did never make them eerie.
agitated/concerned
             O why should Fate, &c.
This fine lyric of rejection due to wealth's enticements and not genuine love, is supposed to have been written by Burns for Jean Lorimer (1775â1831). Gilbert Burns, who arguably overplays the role of expert on his brother's works, despite their relationship being increasingly distant during the last years, told Thomson, the heroine was a Jane Blackstock. It is probably based on Jean Lorimer's rejection of the Exciseman John Gillespie, a colleague of Burns, in favour of a more showy Andrew Whelpdale, who eventually dropped Jean. Jean Lorimer was the poet's
Chloris
of many later verses.
First printed in Thomson's
Select Collection
, 1798.
O mirk, mirk is this midnight hour,
dark
      And loud the tempest's roar:
A waefu' wanderer seeks thy tower,
woeful
      Lord Gregory ope thy door.
open
5
An exile frae her father's ha', Â
from, hall/house
      And a' for sake o' thee;
At least some pity on me shaw,
show
      If love it may na be.
not
Lord Gregory mind'st thou not the grove
10
      By bonie Irwine side,
Where first I own'd that virgin-love
      I lang, lang had denied.
long
How aften didst thou pledge and vow,
often
      Thou wad for ay be mine!
would, always
15
And my fond heart, itsel' sae true,
so
      It ne'er mistrusted thine.
Hard is thy heart, Lord Gregory,
      And flinty is thy breast:
Thou dart of Heaven that flashest by,
20
      O wilt thou bring me rest!
Ye mustering thunders from above
      Your willing victim see!
But spare and pardon my fause Love, false
      His wrangs to Heaven and me! wrongs
This was written for Thomson and sent to him on 26th January, 1793. It is basedonthe old song
The Bonie Lass of Lochryan
. Dr JohnWalcot (Peter Pindar) wrote his own version of
Lord Gregory
and his appears next to Burns's in 1798. Burns, often self-effacing about his songs, praised Walcot's lyrics as âbeautiful' and denigrated his own, stating their chief merit was their âballad simplicity' (Letter 535). John Syme records that Burns recited
Lord Gregory
at the Earl of Selkirk's home, near Kirkcudbright, during their Galloway tour in 1793.
Â
â
On Hearing a Thrush Sing
on a Morning Walk in January
First printed by Currie, 1800.
Sing on, sweet thrush, upon the leafless bough,
Sing on, sweet bird, I'll listen to thy strain:
See aged Winter 'mid his surly reign
At thy blythe carol clears his furrowed brow. â
5
Thus in bleak Poverty's dominion drear
Sits meek Content, with light, unanxious heart,
Welcomes the rapid moments, bids them part,
Nor asks if they bring ought to hope, or fear. â
I thank thee, Author of this opening day,
10
Thou whose bright sun now gilds yon orient skies.
Riches denied, thy boon was purer joys,
What Wealth could never give, nor take away! â
But come, thou child of Poverty and Care,
The mite high Heaven bestowed, that mite with thee I'll share. â
This sonnet was, according to folklore, prompted by John Syme in the wake of the poet's somewhat humiliating dictate by the Excise to keep his nose out of politics. Syme wished Burns to turn his muse to lighter topics than politics. This poem is not apolitical; it does suggest the consolations of a simple, spiritual life lived on a plane beyond material wealth. This consolation, manifest in the song of the thrush, may have been an influence on that Burns admirer, Walt Whitman. Whitman also employs the consolatory song of the thrush in his great poem on Lincoln's death,
When Lilacs Last in the Door
-
yard Bloom'd.
from the French Republican Army
First printed in Cromek's
Select Scottish Songs
, 1810.
YOU'RE welcome to Despots, Dumourier;
You're welcome to Despots, Dumourier. â
      How does Dampiere do?
      Aye, and Bournonville too?
5
Why did they not come along with you, Dumourier?
I will fight France with you, Dumourier, â
I will fight France with you, Dumourier: â
      I will fight France with you,
      I will take my chance with you;
10
By my soul, I'll dance with you, Dumourier. â
Then let us fight about, Dumourier;
Then let us fight about, Dumourier;
      Then let us fight about,
      'Till Freedom's spark is out,
15
Then we'll be damn'd â no doubt â Dumourier.
This parody of the Scots song
Robin Adair
castigates the French General Charles François Dumouriez (1739â1823) who deserted the French Republican army in late March 1793. The incident was reported in
The Edinburgh Advertiser
(and other newspapers) of 5thâ19th April, 1793 under the news title âA Counter Revolution in France'. Stories emerged from France that Dumouriez wanted to reestablish a French monarchy as the only way to European peace, a policy the Convention rejected on 30th March, denouncing Dumouriez as a traitor. Count Ajax de Beurnonville (l. 4), the minister at war, Camus, and four deputies from the Convention were sent to arrest Dumouriez, but he captured them and sent the threat to the Convention that his army would march on Paris and set up a new monarchy. Dampiere's (l. 3) forces attacked Dumouriez's troops (now bolstered by the Austrians who had defeated Dumouriez who made an armistice with them) and repelled them. Dampiere was killed several weeks after this work was written. Pro-government newspapers in Britain turned Dumouriez into a hero and he was eventually welcomed to Britain in June 1793 and toured London in a hackney carriage, to large crowds, before attending the House of Commons as a guest to hear a debate on the war. Burns, as an avid newspaper reader would have known all this. Dumouriez eventually died in 1823 at Turville Park, Buckinghamshire, England.
Given that Britain went to war with France on 1st February, 1793, the royalist âDespots' attacked in this song are principally Britain and Austria. The second stanza gives ironic assent to those loyalists who would line up with Dumouriez to fight France, culminating in the final stanza where Freedom itself is eventually destroyed. This pro-French revolutionary song is written with obvious anti-war sentiments further exposing the myth that Burns ceased to write controversial work from early January 1793. A similar ironic ending is found in the recently discovered
The Cob
Web
, where it is concluded that there would be food enough for everyone to eat when eventually most of the British soldiers in France had been killed. Burns and his contemporaries all employed the spelling âDumourier' for Dumouriez's surname, even Dumouriez himself did so in at least one letter addressed to British newspapers.
