• TUNE-Love's like a dizziness.
I LATELY lived in quiet case,
And never wish'd to marry, O;
But when I saw my Peggie's face,
I felt a sad quandary, O.
Though wild as ony Athole deer,
She has trepann'd me fairly, O;
Her cherry cheeks, and een sae clear,
Harass me late and early, O.
O! love! love! laddie,
Love's like a dizziness!
It winna let a puir body
Gang about his business!
To tell my feats this single week,
Wad mak a curious diary, O;
I drave my cart against a dyke,
My horses in a miry, O;
I wear my stockings white and blue,
My love's sae fierce and fiery, O;
I drill the land that I should plow,
And plow the drills entirely, O.
Soon as the dawn had brought the day,
I went to theek the stable, O;
I cuist my coat, and plied away
As fast as I was able, O.
I wrought a' mornin' out and out,
As I'd been reddin' fire, O;
When I had done, and look'd about,
Behold it was the byre, O!
Her wily glance I'll ne'er forget;
The dear, the lovely blinkin' o't
Has pierced me through and through the heart,
And plagues me wi' the prinklin' o't.
I tried to sing, I tried to pray,
I tried to drown't wi' drinkin' o't;
I tried wi' toil to drive't away,
But ne'er can sleep for thinkin' o't.
Were Peggie's love to hire the job,
And save my heart frae breakin', O,
I'd put a girdle round the globe,
Or dive in Corryvreckan, O;
Or howk a grave, at midnicht dark,
In yonder vault sae eerie, O;
Or gang and spier for Mungo Park
Through Africa sae drearie, O.
Ye little ken what pains I prove,
Or how severe my pliskie, O!
I swear I'm sairer drunk wi' love
Than e'er I was wi' whisky, O!
For love has raked me fore and aft,
I scarce can lift a leggie, O:
I first grew wild, and then gaed daft,
And now I dee for Peggie, O.
I GAED A WAEFU' GATE YESTREEN.*
TUNE-My only Jo and Dearie, O.
I GAED a waefu' gate yestreen,
A gate I fear I'll dearly rue;
I gat my death frae twa sweet een,
Twa lovely een o' bonnie blue.
* The heroine of this song was a Miss Jeffrey of Lochmaben, who ha since been married, and carried by her husband to New York, where she now resides.
"Twas not her golden ringlets bright,
Her lips like roses wet wi' dew,
Her heaving bosom, lily-white-
It was her een sae bonnie blue.
She talk'd, she smiled, my heart she wiled,
She charm'd my soul I wist na how;
But aye the stound, the deadly wound,
Cam frae her een sae bonnie blue.
But, spare to speak, and spare to speed,
She'll aiblins listen to my vow:
Should she refuse, I'll lay my dead
To her twa een sae bonnie blue.
FOR A' THAT, AND A' THAT.
TUNE-For a' that, and a' that.
Is there, for honest poverty,
That hangs his head, and a' that?
The coward-slave, we pass him by;
We daur be puir for a' that.
For a' that, and a' that,
Our toils obscure, and a' that,
The rank is but the guinea-stamp-
The man's the gowd for a' that.
What though on hamely fare we dine,
Wear hoddin-grey, and a' that?
Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine;
A man's a man for a' that;
For a' that, and a' that,
Their tinsel show, and a' that,
The honest man, though e'er sae puir,
Is king o' men for a' that.
Ye see yon birkie, ca'd a lord,
Wha struts, and stares, and a' that;
Though hundreds worship at his word,
He's but a cuif for a' that.
For a' that, and a' that,
His ribbon, star, and a' that,
The man of independent mind,
He looks and laughs at a' that.
A king can make a belted knight,
A marquis, duke, and a' that;
But an honest man's aboon his micht,
Gude faith, he maunna fa' that!
For a' that, and a' that,
Their dignities, and a' that,
The pith o' sense, the pride o' worth,
Are higher ranks for a' that.
Then let us pray, that come it may,
As come it will, for a' that,
That sense and worth, o'er a' the earth,
May bear the gree, and a' that.
For a' that, and a' that,
It's comin' yet for a' that,
That man to man, the warld o'er,
Shall brothers be for a' that.*
I SCORN the state of that lover's condition,
Who pines for her that regards not his pain:
I scorn the state of that foolish ambition,
That fondly requites true love with disdain.
This song, which may be said to embody almost all 'the false philosophy of his time, and of his own mind, but which is nevertheless full of manly and noble feeling, was written by Burns, in 1795, for Mr Thomson's publication.
I love them that love me-my humour is such—
And those that do hate me I hate them as much:
Thus I am resolved, however it go,
And care not whether I get her or no.
What if another her favour inherit,
Which only by right is due unto me;
Or if I reap the fruit of another man's merit,
Shall that make me gladder or sadder to be?
Shall I sigh when I'm forced, or laugh when I'm loved?
Shall I chide when she's angry, or mourn when she's
moved?
Shall I break my heart, being forsaken so?
No; not a whit care I whether I get her or no.
More fickle than fortune, more light than the wind,
More brittle than water her sex doth remain ;
Her tempests are turn'd into calms now we find,
And oftimes her sunshine doth fall into rain.
Thus, look we, or lack we, a loose grip we have;
What comes with the wind must go with the wave;
I'll bear my sails equal, howe'er the wind blow,
And carena by whether I get her or no.*
TAK YOUR AULD CLOAK ABOUT YE.
TUNE-Tak your auld cloak about ye.
In winter, when the rain rain'd cauld,
And frost and snaw on ilka hill,
And Boreas, wi' his blasts sae bauld,
Was threat'nin' a' our kye to kill :
Then Bell, my wife, who lo'es na strife,
She said to me richt hastilie,
*From Watson's Collection of Scots Poems, Part III. 1711
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