My blessings on that happy place, But by the moon and stars so bright, I hae been blythe wi' comrades dear; NAE DOMINIES FOR ME, LADDIE. TUNE-Nae Dominies for me, Laddie. I CHANCED to meet an airy blade, And buckles at his knee, laddie ; I'll rather choose to thole grim death; For what? says he. Good troth, said I, Nae dominies for me, laddie: Minister of Crossmichael, in the Stewartry of Kirkcudbright, some time during the last century. He is not known to have written any other piece of merit. Ministers' stipends are uncertain rents But for your sake I'll fleece the flock, Grow rich as I grow auld, lassie ; If I be spair'd, I'll be a laird, And thou'se be Madam call'd, lassie. But what if ye should chance to die, Leave bairns, ane or twa, laddie? Naething wad be reserved for them, But hair-mould books to gnaw, laddie. At this he angry was, I wat; He gloom'd and look'd fou hie, laddie; When I perceived this, in haste I left my dominie, laddie. Fare ye well, my charmin' maid, This lesson learn of me, lassie ; At the next offer hold him fast, That first makes love to thee, lassie. Then I, returning home again, And coming down the toun, laddie, At twa words we agreed, laddie. He led me to his quarter-house, Compared wi' tinklin' bells, laddie ; Gold, red, and blue, is more divine Kings, queens, and princes, crave the aid 'Bout whores and sackcloth gouns, laddie. They look like Let-me-be, laddie: FAIR HELEN OF KIRKCONNEL.† I WISH I were where Helen lies, On fair Kirkconnel lee ! From Herd's Collection, 1776. "The traditional story of Fair Helen and her lover is as widely known as the song, and is told, perhaps, as often as the other is sung. Helen Irving, the daughter of the laird of Kirkconnel, in Dumfries-shire, was admired for her beauty, and beloved by two neighbouring gentlemen; Adam Fleming of Kirkpatrick, and the laird of Blacket-house. Fleming was favoured by the lady; the other made less impression on her heart than his possessions, which are said to have been large, made on the minds of her parents. The lovers, therefore, were obliged to meet in secret. Their trysting-place was among the woods, which then covered the banks of the stream of Kirtle down to the water edge. During one of these interviews, in the twilight of a summer's eve, Helen observed her jealous and despised lover taking a mortal aim with a carabine, or cross-bow, over the water, at the bosom of his rival. She uttered a shriek, threw herself before him, and, receiving the fatal shot or shaft in her back, died instantly in her lover's arms. The place is still shown where Fleming rushed through the stream; and every conjecture has removed the spot, where the obstinate and single combat took place, to a little knoll a bow-shot up the Kirtle: the peasantry often sit nigh the place, and show their children where the murderer was hewn to pieces. "There are other traditions, which lay the scene of his death in foreign lands, and Fleming is made to follow him through Spain, and slay him in Syria. The combat is always represented to have been long and fierce, and the story of his being hewed to pieces is never varied. The Irvings, a numerous and respectable name, invariably call the heroine Helen Irving: but the Bells, a still more numerous and equally respectable name, call her Helen Bell. About the name of the murderer there seems to be no contention, and I am willing it should remain unknown. The grave of the Oh, Helen fair, beyond compare, Oh, think na ye my heart was sair, Curst be the heart that thocht the thocht, As I went down the water-side, I lichtit doun, my sword did draw, I hackit him in pieces sma', For her sake that died for me. Oh, that I were where Helen lies! lovers is shown in the church-yard of Kirkconnel, near Springkell. You Besides being the subject of many songs, the story of Fair Helen was some years ago wrought up in the shape of a poem as long as the Lady of the Lake, and it is the foundation of at least one novel of the ordinary size. Where thou lies low, and takes thy rest, I wish my grave were growin' green, On fair Kirkconnel lee. I wish I were where Helen lies ; THE COURTSHIP OF JOCK THE WEAVER AND JENNIE THE SPINNER.* [NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED.] JOCK. I HAE bocht Boulie Willie's lume, my lassie ; JENNIE. The treddles, Johnnie, 's aul', and the lume is frail and rotten; The shuttle, too, was aye a lazy jaud to rin ; The treddles, Johnnie, 's aul', and twa o' them are broken: Ye're no sae rich, my Johnnie lad, as ye wad seem. *This was a popular song in the parishes of Beith, Kilbirnie, and Dalry, or northern district of Ayrshire, about the year 1730. The person, from whose recitation it is taken down, learned it from an aged person, who had sung it when a boy about that time. The editor considers it worthy of preservation, as affording a picture of the very simple and primitive system of domestic economy which prevailed at the period referre to. |