The Canongate Burns (56 page)
Read The Canongate Burns Online
Authors: Robert Burns
First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 2, 14th February, 1788.
Clarinda, mistress of my soul,
      The measur'd time is run!
The wretch beneath the dreary pole,
      So marks his latest sun.Â
5
To what dark cave of frozen night
      Shall poor Sylvander hie,
Depriv'd of thee, his life and light,
      The Sun of all his joy.
We part â but by these precious drops,
10
      That fill thy lovely eyes!
No other light shall guide my steps,
      Till thy bright beams arise.
She, the fair Sun of all her sex,
      Has blest my glorious day:
15
And shall a glimmering Planet fix
      My worship to its ray?Â
This was the poet's parting song to Mrs McLehose when he left Edinburgh in early 1788. Sylvander was Burns's pen-name in his epistlotary relationship with Clarinda (Mrs McLehose). Unlike
Ae
Fond Kiss
, this poem echoes the sentimental clichéd tone of their letters.
First printed in 1789 by David Sillar, in his own collection of poems.
AULD NIBOR,
old neighbour
I'm three times, doubly, o'er your debtor,
For your auld-farrant, frien'ly letter;
old-fashioned
Tho' I maun say't, I doubt ye flatter,
shall/must
5
      Ye speak sae fair;
so
For my puir, silly, rhymin' clatter
poor, noise
      Some less maun sair.
must, serveÂ
Hale be your heart, hale be your fiddle;
Lang may your elbuck jink an' diddle,
elbow, move fast, jig
10
To cheer you thro' the weary widdle
struggle
      O' war'ly cares,
worldly
Till bairns' bairns kindly cuddle
children's children
      Your auld grey hairs.
old
But DAVIE, lad, I'm red ye're glaikit;
informed, careless/foolish
15
I'm tauld the MUSE ye hae negleckit;
told, have, neglected
An' gif it's sae, ye sud be lickit
if, so, should, beaten
      Until ye fyke;
fidget
Sic hauns as you sud ne'er be faiket,
such hands, should, excused
      Be hain't wha like.
spared
20
For me, I'm on Parnassus brink,
Rivin the words to gar them clink;
tearing at, make, rhyme
Whyles daez't wi' love, whyles daez't wi' drink,
sometimes dazed
      Wi' jads or masons;
lasses
An' whyles, but ay owre late, I think,
sometimes, always over
25
      Braw sober lessons.
fine
Of a' the thoughtless sons o' man,
Commen' me to the Bardie clan;
commend
Except it be some idle plan
      O' rhymin clink,
noise
30
The devil-haet, that I sud ban,
-have it/should
      They never think.
Nae thought, nae view, nae scheme o' livin',
no,
Nae cares to gie us joy or grievin',
no, give
But just the pouchie put the nieve in,
pocket, hand/fist
35
      An' while ought's there,
Then, hiltie, skiltie, we gae scrivin',
helter-skelter, go writing
      An' fash nae mair.
trouble/bother no more
Leeze me on rhyme! It's ay a treasure,
commend me to/give me
My chief, amaist my only pleasure,
almost
40
At hame, a-fiel', at wark or leisure,
home, in the field, work
      The Muse, poor hizzie!
hussy
Tho' rough an' raploch be her measure,
coarse
      She's seldom lazy.
Haud to the Muse, my dainty Davie:
hold
45
The warl' may play you [monie] a shavie;
world, many, trick
But for the Muse, she'll never leave ye,
      Tho' e'er sae puir,
so poor
Na, even tho' limpan wi' the spavie
no, spavin/worn joints
      Frae door to door.
fromÂ
Although this first appeared courtesy of David Sillar it did not enter the Burns canon until published by Dr James Currie in 1800. Sillar's own volume appeared in 1789, but the poem by Burns is generally dated to the 1785 period. It is an epistle in colloquial language written to encourage a friend to keep writing poetry. See the first
Epistle to Davie
for notes on David Sillar.
First printed in
The Caledonian Mercury
, August 27th, 1789.
O Thou, who kindly dost provide
      For ev'ry creature's want!
We bless thee, God of Nature wide,
      For all Thy goodness lent:
And, if it please thee Heavenly guide,
      May never worse be sent;
But whether granted or denied,
      Lord, bless us with content!
            Amen!!!Â
Burns printed this and the following grace under his own name in
The Caledonian Mercury
, August 27th, 1789 but they were not included in the 1793 Edinburgh edition. They appear in Currie, 1800, then along with
Grace After Meat
, in Stewart, 1802.
First printed in
The Caledonian Mercury
, August 27th, 1789.
O Thou, in whom we live and move,
      Who mad'st the sea and shore,
Thy goodness constantly we prove,
      And grateful would adore.Â
And if it please Thee, Pow'r above,
      Still grant us with such store;
The
Friend
we
trust,
the
Fair
we
love
;
      And we desire no more.
Like the above grace, Burns printed this under his own name in
The
Caledonian Mercury
, August 27th, 1789, but they did not enter the canon until 1800 (See notes above).
First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 3, 2nd February, 1790.
My Sandy gied to me a ring,
gave
       Was a' beset wi' diamonds fine;
all
But I gied him a far better thing,
gave
       I gied my heart in pledge o' his ring.
gaveÂ
Chorus
5
My Sandy O, my Sandy O,
       My bony, bony Sandy O!
Tho' the love that I owe to thee I dare na show,
not
       Yet I love my love in secret, my Sandy O.
My Sandy brak a piece o' gowd,
broke, gold
10
       While down his cheeks the saut tears row'd;
salt, rolled
He took a hauf and gied it to me,
half, gave
       And I'll keep it till the hour I die.
              My Sandy O, &c.
The traditional text was a bawdy song cleaned up by Burns. In such rural songs the name Sandy was a stock name of this period.
Tune: Jonny McGill
First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 3, 2nd February, 1790.
O wilt thou go wi' me, sweet Tibbie Dunbar;
O wilt thou go wi' me, sweet Tibbie Dunbar:
Wilt thou ride on a horse, or be drawn in a car,
Or walk by my side, O sweet Tibbie Dunbar. â
I care na thy daddie, his lands and his money;
not
I care na thy kin, sae high and sae lordly:
not, family, so
But say that thou'lt hae me for better for waur,
have, worse
And come in thy coatie, sweet Tibbie
    Dunbar. â
A traditional song renovated by Burns in his desire to put words to and preserve an old tune by a Girvan fiddler, John McGill. During the 19th century Hector MacNeil's lyrics,
Come Under My Plaidie,
made the tune popular â a rare occasion of another poet upstaging Burns's work.
Tune: The Highlander's Lament
First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 3, 2nd February, 1790.
My Harry was a gallant gay,
       Fu' stately strade he on the plain;
full, strode/walked
But now he's banish'd far awa,
away
       I'll never see him back again.Â
Chorus
5
O for him back again,
       O for him back again,
I wad gie a' Knockhaspie's land
would give all
       For Highland Harry back again.
When a' the lave gae to their bed,
all, rest, go
10
       I wander dowie up the glen;
sad
I set me down, and greet my fill,
weep
       And ay I wish him back again.
              O, for him &c.
O were some villains hangit high,
hanged
       And ilka body had their ain!
every, own
15
Then I might see the joyfu' sight,
       My Highland Harry back again.
              O, for him &c.Â
The poet states in the Interleaved S.M.M. that he collected the chorus of this song from a woman's singing in Dunblane, âthe rest of the song is mine'. The ChambersâWallace edition (p. 321) give two additional stanzas with sharper Jacobite lyrics, apparently not in the hand of the poet but in manuscript in the British Museum. Knock- haspie, l.7, refers, according to Cunningham, to a part of the farm land at Mossgiel. Kinsley accepts this (Vol. III, no. 164, p. 1241), but the chorus is not from Burns. The land referred to is more likely to be in Aberdeenshire where the original song and chorus come from.
Tune: Beware of the Ripells
First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 3, 2nd February, 1790.
The Taylor fell thro' the bed, thimble an' a',
tailor
The Taylor fell thro' the bed thimble an' a';
The blankets were thin and the sheets they were sma',
small
The Taylor fell thro' the bed, thimble an' a'.
5
The sleepy bit lassie, she dreaded nae ill,
no
The sleepy bit lassie she dreaded nae ill;
The weather was cauld and the lassie lay still,
cold, still
She thought that a Taylor could do her nae ill.
Gie me the groat again, cannie young man,
give, fourpence
10
Gie me the groat again cannie young man;
The day it is short and the night it is lang,
long
The dearest siller that ever I wan.
money, won
There's somebody weary, wi' lying her lane,
alone
There's somebody weary wi' lying her lane;
15
There's some that are dowie, I trow wad be fain
sad, trust would
To see the bit Taylor come skippin again.Â
The second and fourth verses are claimed by Burns in his notes to the Interleaved S.M.M., the remainder is traditional.
First printed in the S.M.M., Vol. 3, 2nd February, 1790.
Simmer's a pleasant time,
summer's
        Flowers of every colour;
The water rins owre the heugh,
runs, cliff or crag
        And I long for my true lover!
Chorus
5
Ay waukin, O,
waking
        Waukin still and weary:
Sleep I can get nane,
none
        For thinking on my Dearie. â
When I sleep I dream,
10
        When I wauk I'm eerie,
wake, restless
Sleep I can get nane,
none
        For thinkin on my Dearie. â
                Ay waukin, O, &c.
Lanely night comes on,
lonely
        A' the lave are sleepin:
rest/remainder
15
I think on my bonie lad,
        And I bleer my een wi' greetin. â
blur, eyes, weeping
                Ay waukin, O, &c.
This deceptively simple, but profoundly moving song of tormented loss, is transformed by Burns from an original song. Some modern recordings regrettably omit the Scots word âheugh' from the first verse, for which there is no adequate
sounding
translation in English.
