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Though he the royal sceptre sways,
THE LASS O' PATIE'S MILL+
TUNE— The Lass o' Fatie's Mill.
The lass o' Patie's Mill,
Sae bonnie, blythe, and gay,
Bareheaded on the green,
And wanton'd in her een.
Without the help of art,'
Whene'er she spak or smild:
Free from affected pride,
I wish'd her for my bride. * From the Tea-Table Miscellany, 1724.
+ The scene of this song lies on the southern bank of the Irvine Water, near Newmills, in the eastern part of Ayrshire. I visited the spot in September 1826, and took an exact note of the locality. Patie's Mill, or rather Pate's Mill, for the poet seems to have eked out the name for the sake of his versification, stands about a stone-cast from the town of Newmills, and a mile from Loudoun Castle. The mill and all the contiguous tenements have been renewed since Ramsay's time, except part of one cottage. They occupy both sides of the road to Galston. A field is pointed out at the distance of two hundred yards from the mill, as that in which “the lass” was working at the time she was seen by the poet. Ramsay had been taking a forenoon ride with the Earl of Loudoun along the opposite bank of the river, when they observed the rural nymph, and the Earl pointed her out to his companion as a fit subject for his muse. Allan hung behind his lordship, in order to compose what was required, and produced the song at the dinner-table that afternoon.
One stanza, too minutely descriptive of her charms, is omitted in the above copy. The song appeared for the first time in the Tea-Table Miscellany, 1724.
Oh ! had I a' the wealth
Hopetoun's high mountains fill,
And pleasure at my will ;
That nane but bonnie she,
Should share the same wi' me.
THE YELLOW-HAIR'D LADDIE.
TUNE-The yellow-hair'd Laddie.
The yellow-bair’d laddie sat doun on yon brae,
And ayé as she milkit, she merrily sang,
The yellow-hair'd laddie shall be my gudeman. The weather is cauld, and my cleadin is thin, The yowes are new clipt, and they winna bucht in ; They winna bucht in, although I should dee: Ob, yellow-hair'd laddie, be kind unto me.
The gudewife cries butt the house, Jennie, come ben;
It's ae lang half hour, and we'll e'en mak it three,
* From the Tea-Table Miscellany,
THE YELLOW-HAIR'D LADDIE.
TUNE-The Yellow-hair'd Laddie.
In April, when primroses paint the sweet plain,
There, under the shade of an old sacred thorn,
“ That Maddie, in all the gay bloom of her youth,
THOU HAST LEFT ME EVER, JAMIE.
TUNE-Fee hin, Father.
* From the Tea-Table Miscellany, 1724.
Thou hast left me ever, Jamie,
Thou hast left me ever.
Only should us sever ;
I'll see thee never.
The auld Stuarts back again!
The Stuarts will be back again.
And bring the Stuarts back again.
*“ I enclose you,” says Burns to Mr Thomson, (Correspondence, No. XLII.)" Frazer's set of Fee him, father. When he plays it slow, he makes it, in fact, the language of despair. I shall here give you two stanzas in that style, merely to try if it will be any improvement. Were it possible, in singing, to give it half the pathos which Frazer gives it in playing, it would make an admirable pathetic song: I do not give these verses for any merit they have. I composed them at the time Patie Allan's mother died; that was about the back of midnight ; and by the lee side of a bowl of punch, which had overset every mortal in company, except the hautbois and the muse."
The editor of this work had the pleasure of hearing Mr Frazer play " Fee him, father,” in the exquisite style above described, at his
benefit in the Theatre-Royal, Edinburgh, 1822. After having for many years occupied the station of hautbois-player, in the orchestra of that place of amusement, he died in 1825, with the character of having been the very best performer on this difficult, but beautiful instrument, of his time, in Scotland.
There's Ayr, and Irvine, wi' the rest,
And they'll set up their crack again !
Or - Auld Stuarts back again.”
Give ear unto this loyal sang, ye
that ken the richt frae wrang, And a' that look, and think it lang,
For auld Stuarts back again : Were
wi' me to chase the rae, Out ower the hills and far away, And saw the Lords come there that day,
To bring the Stuarts back again :
There ye might see the noble Mar,
And mony mae, what reck, again. Then what are a' their westlin' crews ? We'll
the tailors tack again : Can they forstand the tartan trews,
And • Auld Stuarts back again !"
SHE ROSE AND LET ME IN.
TUNE. She rose and let me in.
The night her silent sable wore,
And gloomy were the skies ;
Than those in Nelly's eyes.
Where I had often been,
To rise and let me in.