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Nae silken hose with gushats fine,

Or shoon with glancing laces,
On her bare leg, forbad to shine

Weel-shapen native graces.

Ae little coat and bodice white

Was sum o' a' her claithing;
E'en these o'er muckle ;-mair delyte

She'd given clad wi' naething.
We lean'd upon a flowery brae,

By which a burnie trotted ;
On her I glowr'd my soul away,

While on her sweets I doated.

A thousand beauties of desert

Before had scarce alarm'd me,
Till this dear artless struck my heart,

And, bot designing, charm’d me.
Hurried by love, close to my breast

I clasp'd this fund of blisses,-
Wba smiled, and said, Without a priest,

Sir, hope for nocht but kisses.

I had nae heart to do her harm,

And yet I couldna want her ;
What she demanded, ilka charm

O'bers pled I should grant her.
Since heaven had dealt to me a routh,

Straight to the kirk I led her;
There plighted her my faith and trouth,

And a young lady made her. *

This song, which appeared in the Tea-Table Miscellany, (1724,) was founded upon a real incident. The bonnie lass was daughter to a woman who kept an alehouse at the hamlet near Branksome Castle, in Teviotdale. A young officer, of some rank,-his name we believe was Maitland,-happened to be quartered somewhere in the neighbourhood, saw, loved, and married her. So strange was such an alliance deemed in those days, that the old mother, under whose auspices it was performed, did not escape the imputation of witchcraft.

Dark night cam on, the tempest howl'd

Out ower the hills and valleys;
And where was't that your Prince lay down,

Whase hame should been a palace ?
He rowed him in a Highland plaid,

Which cover'd him but sparely,
And slept beneath a bush o' broom :

Oh! wae's me for Prince Charlie !

But now the bird saw some red-coats,
And he shook his wings wi'

anger:
O, this is no a land for me,

I'll tarry here nae langer.
Awhile he hover'd on the wing,

Ere he departed fairly ;
But weel I mind the fareweel strain

Was, Wae's me for Prince Charlie !

MERRY MAY THE KEEL ROWE.*

As I cam doun the Cannogate,

The Cannogate, the Cannogate,
As I cam doun the Cannogate,
I heard a lassie sing, O:
Merry may the keel rowe,

The keel rowe, the keel rowe,
Merry may the keel rowe,

The ship that my love's in, O!

My love has breath o' roses,

O'roses, o' roses,
Wi' arms o' lily posies,

To fauld a lassie in, O!

* This seems, from the allusions, to have been the ditty of some one of the Jacobite ladies of the Canongate of Edinburgh, regarding either Prince Charles Stuart himself, or one of his adherents.

Wbaever has met wi'

my

Phillis,
Has met wi' the queen o' the fair. *

OH! WAE'S ME FOR PRINCE CHARLIE.

WILLIAM GLEN.

TUNE- The Gipsy Laddie.
A WEE bird cam to our ba’ door,

It warbled sweet and clearly,
And
aye

the owercome o' its sang
Was, Wae's me for Prince Charlie !
Oh, when I heard the bonny bonny bird,

The tears cam drapping rarely ;
I took my bannet aff my head,

For weel I lo'ed Prince Charlie.

Quo' I, My bird, my bonny bonny bird,

Is that a tale ye borrow ?
Or is't some words ye've learn’d by rote,

Or a lilt of dule and sorrow ?
Oh, no, no, no, the wee bird sang,

I've flown sin' morning early ;
But sic a day o'wind and rain !

Oh! wae's me for Prince Charlie !

On hills that are by right his ain,

He roams a lonely stranger ;
On ilka band he's press’d by want,

On ilka side by danger.
Yestreen I met him in a glen,

My heart near bursted fairly,
For sadly changed indeed was he ;

Oh! wae's me for Prince Charlie :

* Written in honour of Miss Philadelphia Barbara Macmurdo, Drumlanrig, afterwards Mrs Norman Lockhart of Torbrax. This lady, who was the heroine of several other songs by Burns, died September 5, 1825.

Dark night cam on, the tempest howl'd

Out ower the hills and valleys;
And where was't that your Prince lay down,

Whase hame should been a palace ?
He rowed him in a Highland plaid,

Which cover'd him but sparely,
And slept beneath a bush o' broom :

Oh! wae's me for Prince Charlie !

But now the bird saw some red-coats,

And he shook his wings wi' anger :
O, this is no a land for me,

I'll tarry here nae langer.
Awhile he hover'd on the wing,

Ere he departed fairly ;
But weel I mind the fareweel strain

Was, Wae's me for Prince Charlie !

MERRY MAY THE KEEL ROWE.*

As I cam doun the Cannogate,

The Cannogate, the Cannogate,
As I cam doun the Cannogate,
I heard a lassie sing, O:
Merry may the keel rowe,

The keel rowe, the keel rowe,
Merry may the keel rowe,

The ship that my love's in, O!

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* This seems, from the allusions, to have been the ditty of some one of the Jacobite ladies of the Canongate of Edinburgh, regarding either Prince Charles Stuart himself, or one of his adherents.

My love he wears a bonnet,

A bonnet, a bonnet,
A snawy rose upon it,

A dimple on his chin, o !

WALIFOU FA' THE CAT.

As I gaed down by Tweedside,

I heard, I dinna ken what;
I heard ae wife say to anither,

Walifou fa' the cat.
Walifou fa' the cat,

She's bred the house muckle wanease,*
She's open'd the awmrie-door,

And eaten up a' the cheese.

She's eaten up a' the cheese,

O'the kebbuck she's no left a bit;
She's dung down the bit skate on the brace,

And it's faun in the sowen-kit,
It's out o' the sowen-kit,

And it's into the maister-can;t
And now it's sae fiery saut,

It will pussion a' our guidman. I

AULD GUDEMAN, YE'RE A DRUCKEN

CARLE.

SIR ALEXANDER BOSWELL.

TUNE_The East Neuk o' Fife. Auld guidman, ye're a drucken carle, drucken carle ; A'the lang day ye wink and drink, and gape and gaunt; • Uneasiness.

+ This will not bear explanation. # From Herd's Collection, 1776.

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