DO THE THING WHILK I DESIRE. Get up, gudewife, don on your claise, I speer what haste ye hae, gudeman? To scour your throat so sune this morn ; That ye sud wi' my rising mel; Gudewife, we maun needs hae a care Sae lang's we wun in neighbours' raw, Of neighbourhood to tak' a share, And rise up when the cock does craw; Dame, do the thing whilk I desire. Nay, do you talk of neighbourhood,Gif I lig in my bed till noon By nae man's shins I bake my bread, And with my rising do not mel, Gudewife, we maun needs tak' a care And hang up Ring when all is done; Gudeman, ye may weel a begging gang, Ye seem sae weel to bear the pock: may as Ye weel gang sune as syne, To seek your meat amang gude folk: In ilka house ye'se get a loak, When ye come whar ye'r gossips dwell: Nay, lo you look sae like a gouk, I'll do but what I list mysel'. Gudewife, ye promis'd when we were wed, And I'll go fetch him in this day; And gif that haly man will say Ye'se do the thing that I desire, Dame, do the thing that I require. I nowther care for John nor Jack, You may go fetch him gin ye please; You may e'en fetch the deil in hell; Weel, since it will nae better be, I'll tak' my share ere a' be gane; Dame, do the thing ye list yoursel'. The long resistance and open rebellion of the wifethe admonitions of her husband-his clusters of proverbs relating to household management-his wish to refer the matter to the minister, and his final despair, have all combined to render this song a very particular favourite. It belongs to the same class of compositions as the "Auld Gudeman," and "Tak your auld cloak about ye." THIS IS NO MY AIN HOUSE. This is no my ain house, I ken by the rigging o't; Since with my love I've changed vows, I dinna like the bigging o't. For now that I'm young Robie's bride, And mistress of his fireside, My ain house I like to guide, And please me with the trigging o't. Then farewell to my father's house, When love with honour meets me. When I am in my ain house, True love shall be at hand ay, Avoiding ilka cause of strife, And breaks the kindly band ay. Had Ramsay adhered more closely to the idea which the old song supplies, I think he would have composed a song much superior to this. But there can be no doubt that Allan shared largely in that amiable vanity which makes a man contented with his own productions. Burns has preserved some of the old verses, and more might be added. I like the picture of rustic abundance which the first verse contains, and the rude and motherly kindness of the second: O this is no my ain house, My ain house, my ain house; This is no my ain house, I ken by the biggin o't. There's bread an' cheese in my door cheeks, But wow! this is my ain wean, ain wean; My ain wean, my I ken by the greetie o't. And row't about the feetie o't. The tune is a popular hornpipe air, to which all the |