The Canongate Burns (126 page)

Now Nature cleeds the flowery lea,
clothes, meadow

And a' is young and sweet like thee,

O, wilt thou share its joys wi' me,

       And say thou'lt be my Dearie O. 

Chorus

5
Lassie wi' the lint-white locks,

       Bonie lassie, artless lassie,

Wilt thou wi' me tent the flocks —
tend

       Wilt thou be my Dearie O.

The primrose bank, the wimpling burn,
meandering

10
The cuckoo on the milkwhite thorn,

The wanton lambs at early morn

       Shall welcome thee, my Dearie O.

              Lassie wi' &c.

And when the welcome simmer shower
summer

Has cheer'd ilk drooping little flower,
each

15
We'll to the breathing woodbine bower

       At sultry noon, my Dearie O.

              Lassie wi' &c.

When Cynthia lights wi' silver ray

The weary shearer's hameward way,
homeward

Thro' yellow waving fields we'll stray,

20
       And talk o' love, my Dearie O.

              Lassie wi' &c.

And when the howling wintry blast

Disturbs my lassie's midnight rest,

I'll fauld thee to my faithfu' breast,

       And comfort thee, my Dearie O. —

              Lassie wi' &c. 

AH, Chloris, since it may not be,

        That thou of love wilt hear;

If from the lover thou maun flee,

        Yet let the
friend
be dear. 

5
Altho' I love my Chloris, mair

        Than ever tongue could tell;

My passion I will ne'er declare —

        I'll say, I wish thee well.

Tho' a' my daily care thou art,

10
        And a' my nightly dream,

I'll hide the struggle in my heart,

        And say it is esteem.

He.

O PHILLY, happy be that day

When, roving thro' the gather'd hay,

My youthfu' heart was stown away,
stolen

        And by thy charms, my Philly. — 

She.

5
O Willy, ay I bless the grove

Where first I own'd my maiden love,

Whilst thou did pledge the Powers above

        To be my ain dear Willy. —
own

He.

As songsters of the early year

10
Are ilka day mair sweet to hear,
every, more

So ilka day to me mair dear

        And charming is my Philly. —

She.

As on the brier the budding rose

Still richer breathes, and fairer blows,

15
So in my tender bosom grows

        The love I bear my Willy. —

He.

The milder sun and bluer sky

That crown my harvest cares wi' joy,

Were ne'er sae welcome to my eye
so

20
        As is a sight o' Philly. —

She.

The little swallow's wanton wing,

Tho' wafting o'er the flowery Spring,

Did ne'er to me sic tydings bring,
such

        As meeting o' my Willy. —

He.

25
The bee, that thro' the sunny hour

Sips nectar in the op'ning flower,

Compar'd wi' my delight is poor

        Upon the lips o' Philly. —

She.

The woodbine in the dewy weet

30
When ev'ning shades in silence meet,

Is nocht sae fragrant or sae sweet
not so

        As is a kiss o' Willy. —

He.

Let Fortune's wheel at random rin;
run

And fools may tyne, and knaves may win;
lose/be lost

35
My thoughts are a' bound up on ane,

        And that's my ain dear Philly. —
own

She.

What's a' the joys that gowd can gie?
all, gold

I care na wealth a single flie;
not (for), fly

The lad I love 's the lad for me,

40
        And that's my ain dear Willy. —
own
 

Is this thy plighted, fond regard,

        Thus cruelly to part, my Katy:

Is this thy faithful swain's reward —

        An aching broken heart, my Katy. —

Chorus

5
Canst thou leave me thus, my Katy,

        Canst thou leave me thus, my Katy;

Well thou know'st my aching heart,

        And canst thou leave me thus for pity. —

Farewell! and ne'er such sorrows tear

10
        That fickle heart of thine, my Katy!

Thou mayest find those will love thee dear —

        But not a love like mine, my Katy. —

                Canst thou leave me &c.

BEHOLD, my Love, how green the groves,

        The primrose banks how fair;

The balmy gales awake the flowers,

        And wave thy flaxen hair:

5
The lav'rock shuns the palace gay,
lark

        And o'er the cottage sings;

For Nature smiles as sweet, I ween,
trust

        To shepherds as to kings. — 

Let minstrels sweep the skilfu' string,

10
        In lordly, lighted ha';
hall

The shepherd stops his simple reed,

        Blythe, in the birken shaw:
birch wood

The princely revel may survey

        Our rustic dance wi' scorn,

15
But are their hearts as light as ours

        Beneath the milkwhite thorn. —

The shepherd, in the flowery glen,

        In shepherd's phrase will woo;

The courtier tells a finer tale,

20
        But is his heart as true:

Here wild-wood flowers I've pu'd, to deck
pulled

        That spotless breast o' thine;

The courtier's gems may witness love —

        But ‘tis na love like mine. —
not

CONTENTED wi' little, and cantie wi' mair,
happy, more

Whene'er I forgather wi' Sorrow and Care,

I gie them a skelp, as they're creeping alang,
give, slap, along

Wi' a cog o' gude swats and an auld
cup, good ale, old,

    Scottish sang.
song
 

5
I whyles claw the elbow o' troubles ome Thought;
sometimes clasp

But Man is a soger, and Life is a faught:
soldier, fight

My mirth and gude humour are coin in my pouch,

And my FREEDOM 's my Lairdship nae monarch

    daur touch.
no, dare

A towmond o' trouble, should that be my fa',
a year, fall/lot

10
A night o' gude fellowship sowthers it a';
good, patches it up

When at the blythe end o' our journey at last,

Wha the Deil ever thinks o' the road he has past.
who, Devil

Blind Chance, let her snapper and stoyte on her way;
stumble, stagger

Be 't to me, be 't frae me, e'en let the jade gae:
from, hag go

15
Come Ease, or come Travail; come Pleasure or Pain;

My warst word is — ‘Welcome, and welcome again!'
worst
 

NOW in her green mantle blythe Nature arrays,

And listens the lambkins that bleat o'er the braes,
lambs, hillslopes

While birds warble welcomes in ilka green shaw;
each, wood

But to me it's delightless — my Nanie's awa. —
away/dead
 

5
The snawdrap and primrose our woodlands adorn,
snowdrop

And violets bathe in the weet o' the morn;
wet/dew

They pain my sad bosom, sae sweetly they blaw,
so, blow

They mind me o' Nanie — and Nanie's awa. —

Thou lavrock that springs frae the dews of the lawn
lark

10
The shepherd to warn o' the grey-breaking dawn,

And thou mellow mavis that hails the night-fa',
thrush, -fall

Give over for pity — my Nanie's awa. —

Come Autumn, sae pensive, in yellow and grey,
so

And soothe me wi' tydins o' Nature's decay:
tidings

15
The dark, dreary Winter, and wild-driving snaw
snow

Alane can delight me — now Nanie's awa. —
alone