But be nae beat, my bonnie lass,
Let my waitin' stand for thine ;
We'll awa to Craigton shaw,
And seek the joys we tint yestreen.
OUR GUDEMAN CAM' HAME AT E'EN.
OUR gudeman cam hame at e'en,
And hame cam he;
And there he saw a saddle-horse,
Where nae horse should be.
Oh, how cam this horse here?
How can this be?
How cam this horse here,
Without the leave o' me?
A horse! quo' she!
Aye, a horse, quo' he.
Ye auld blind dotard carle,
And blinder mat ye be !
It's but a bonnie milk-cow,
My mither sent to me.
A milk-cow! quo' he;
Aye, a milk-cow, quo' she.
Far hae I ridden,
And muckle hae I seen;
But a saddle on a milk-cow
Saw I never nane.
Our gudeman cam hame at e'en,
And hame cam he;
He spied a pair o' jack-boots,
Where nae boots should be.
What's this now, gudewife?
What's this I see?
How cam thae boots here,
Without the leave o' me?
Boots! quo' she;
Aye, boots, quo' he.
Ye auld blind dotard carle,
And blinder mat ye be !
It's but a pair o' water-stoups,
The cooper sent to me.
Water-stoups! quo' he;
Aye, water-stoups, quo' she.
Far hae I ridden,
And muckle hae I seen;
But siller spurs on water stoups
Saw I never nane.
Our gudeman cam hame at e'en,
And hame cam he;
And there he saw a siller sword,
Where nae sword should be.
What's this now, gudewife?
What's this I see?
O how cam this sword here,
Without the leave o' me?
A sword! quo' she;
Aye, a sword, quo' he.
Ye auld blind dotard carle,
And blinder mat ye be !
It's but a parridge-spurtle,
My minnie sent to me.
A parridge-spurtle! quo' he;
Aye, a parridge-spurtle, quo' she.
Weel, far hae I ridden,
And muckle hae I seen;
But siller-handed parridge-spurtles
Saw I never nane.
Our gudeman cam hame at e'en,
And hame cam he;
And there he spied a powder'd wig,
Where nae wig should be.
What's this now, gudewife?
What's this I see?
How cam this wig here,
Without the leave o' me?
A wig! quo' she;
Aye, a wig, quo' he.
Ye auld blind dotard carle,
And blinder mat ye be !
'Tis naething but a clocken-hen
My minnie sent to me.
A clocken-hen! quo' he;
Aye, a clocken-hen, quo' she.
Far hae I ridden,
And muckle hae I seen, But pouther on a clocken-hen
Saw I never nane.
Our gudeman cam hame at e'en, And hame cam he;
And there he saw a mickle coat, Where nae coat should be. How cam this coat here?
How can this be?
How cam this coat here,
Without the leave o' me?
A coat! quo she;
Ay, a coat, quo' he.
Ye auld blind dotard carle,
And blinder mat ye be !
It's but a pair o' blankets
My minnie sent to me.
Blankets! quo' he;
Ay, blankets, quo' she.
Far hae I ridden,
And muckle hae I seen; But buttons upon blankets
Saw I never nane!
Ben gaed our gudeman,
And ben gaed he;
And there he spied a sturdy man,
Where nae man should be.
How cam this man here?
How can this be?
How cam this man here,
Without the leave o' me ?
A man! quo' she;
Ay, a man, quo' he.
Puir blind body,
And blinder mat you be !
It's but a new milkin' maid,
My mither sent to me.
A maid! quo' he;
Ay, a maid, quo' she.
Far hae I ridden,
And muckle hae I seen,
But lang-bearded maidens
Saw I never nane.*
ETTRICK BANKS.
TUNE-Ettrick Banks.
ON Ettrick banks, ae simmer's nicht,
At gloamin, when the sheep gaed hame,
I met my lassie braw and ticht,
Come wading, barefoot, a' her lane:
My heart grew licht-I ran-I flang
My arms about her lily neck,
And kiss'd and clapp'd her there fu' lang;
My words they werena mony feck.
I said, My lassie, will ye go
To the Highland hills, the Erse to learn?
*This admirable specimen of old Scottish humour first appeared in Herd's Collection, 1776.
I'll gie thee baith a cow and ewe
When ye come to the brig o' Earn.
At Leith auld meal comes in, ne'er fash,
And herrin at the Broomielaw;
Cheer up your heart, my bonnie lass,
There's gear to win ye never saw.
All day, when we have wrocht eneuch,
When winter frosts and snaw begin,
Sune as the sun gaes wast the loch,
At nicht, when ye sit down to spin,
I'll screw my pipes, and play a spring :
And thus the weary nicht will end,
Till the tender kid and lamb-time bring
Our pleasant simmer back again.
Syne, when the trees are in their blume,
And gowans glent ower ilka fiel',
I'll meet my lass amang the brume,
And lead you to my summer shiel :
Then, far frae a' their scornfu' din,
That mak the kindly hearts their sport,
We'll laugh and kiss, and dance and sing,
And gar the langest day seem short.*
TUNE-My tocher's the jewel.
O MEIKLE thinks my love o' my beauty,
And meikle thinks my love o' my kin;
But little thinks my love I ken brawly
My tocher's the jewel has charms for him.
* This beautiful song made its first appearance in the Tea-Table Miscel
lany, where it is marked as a composition of indefinite age.
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