WILT THOU BE MY DEARIE?

BURNS.

TUNE-The Sutor's Dochter.

WILT thou be my dearie?

When sorrow wrings thy gentle heart,
Wilt thou let me cheer thee?
By the treasures of my soul,
That's the love I bear thee!
I swear and vow that only thou
Shall ever be my dearie.

Only thou, I swear and vow,
Shall ever be my dearie.

Lassie, say thou lo'es me,
Or if thou wilt not be my ain,
Say na thou'lt refuse me:
If it winna, canna be,

Thou for thine may choose me,
Let me, lassie, quickly die,
Trusting that thou lo'es me.
Lassie, let me quickly die,
Trusting that thou lo'es me.

ARMSTRONG'S GOODNIGHT.

TUNE-Gude nicht, and joy be wi' ye a’.

THIS night is my departing night;
For here nae langer must I stay:
There's no a friend or fae of mine,
But wishes that I were away.

My time is come; I maun demit,
And frae your company reca':
I hope ye're a' my friends as yet;
Gude nicht, and joy be wi' you a'!

I've spent some time, I maun confess,
In your sweet civil companie ;
For ony offence that I hae dune,
I needs that I forgï'en may be.
What I hae dune for lack o' wit,
I never never can reca';

I hope ye're a' my friends as yet;
Gude nicht, and joy be wi' you a'.

FOR THE SAKE OF SOMEBODY.

[OLD VERSES.]

TUNE-Somebody.

FOR the sake of somebody,
For the sake of somebody,
I could wake † a winter nicht,
For the sake of somebody.

The first four and the last four lines of this composition were found by Burns as a fragment, and were by him very much and very justly admi red, as giving the hint of some disastrous tale. They were published in the Border Minstrelsy, under the title of "Armstrong's Goodnight," with a note, quoting a tradition, by which they were said to have been composed by one of that celebrated predatory clan, executed for the murder of Sir John Carmichael of Edrom, warder of the middle marches, in the year 1600. Mr Buchan of Peterhead has latterly printed, in his "Ancient Ballads and Songs of the North of Scotland," these esteemed lines, in company with twice as many, which, he thinks, may be supposed to complete the song, though they are in an inferior style of poetry and feeling. By a selection from Mr Buchan's additional matter, and a collation of the whole with the copies published in Johnson's Musical Museum, and the Border Minstrelsy, the present editor has endeavoured to make up a song of the ordinary length.

The air is very popular, and has been adopted by more than one modern poet, as a vehicle for verses.

tWatch.

I am gaun to seek a wife,
I am gaun to buy a plaidy;
I have three stane o' woo';
Carline,* is thy daughter ready?
For the sake of somebody, &c.

Betty, lassy, say't thysell,

Though thy dame be ill to shoe :
First we'll buckle,† then we'll tell;
Let her flyte, and syne come to.
What signifies a mother's gloom,

When love and kisses come in play?
Should we wither in our bloom,
And in simmer mak nae bay?

Bonny lad, I carena by,

Though I try my luck wi' thee,
Since ye are content to tie

The half-mark bridal-band § wi' me.
I'll slip hame and wash my feet, ||

And steal on linens fair and clean;
Syne at the trysting-place we'll meet,
To do but what my dame has done.

Now my lovely Betty gives

Consent in sic a heartsome gate,
It me frae a' my care relieves,

And doubts that gart me aft look blate.
and get

Then let us gang

the grace;

For they that have an appetite

Should eat; and lovers should embrace :
If these be faults, 'tis nature's wyte. ¶

+ Marry.

Old woman. + Scold. § A runaway marriage is commonly called a half-mark bridal, in Scotland, from the sum, probably, which was formerly given as hire to the clergyman.

Considered in Scotland an indispensable preliminary to marriage. From the Tea-Table Miscellany, where it is printed without any sig nature, being probably the production of the editor, of whose manner it bears many marks.

SANDY O'ER THE LEE.

TUNE-Sandy o'er the lee.

I WINNA marry ony man but Sandy ower the lee,
I winna marry ony man but Sandy ower the lee;
I winna hae the dominie, for gude he canna be;
But I will hae my Sandy lad, my Sandy ower the lee :
For he's aye a-kissing, kissing, aye a-kissing me;
He's aye a-kissing, kissing, aye a-kissing me.

I winna hae the minister, for all his godly looks;
Nor yet will I the lawyer hae, for a' his wily crooks;
I winna hae the ploughman lad, nor yet will I the
miller,

But I will hae my Sandy lad, without a penny siller.
For he's aye a-kissing, &c.

I winna hae the soldier lad, for he gangs to the wars;
I winna hae the sailor lad, because he smells o' tar;
I winna hae the lord, or laird, for a' their meikle gear,
But I will hae my Sandy lad, my Sandy o'er the muir.
For he's aye a-kissing, &c.*

MY LOVE, SHE'S BUT A LASSIE YET.

TUNE-My Love is but a lassie yet.

My love, she's but a lassie yet;
My love, she's but a lassie yet;
I'll let her stand a year or twa;
She'll no be half sae saucy yet.
I rue the day I sought her, O;
I rue the day I sought her, O;

From Johnson's Scots Musical Museum, Part III., 1790.

Wha gets her, needna say he's woo'd,
But he may say he's bought her, O.

Come draw a drap o' the best o't yet,
Come draw a drap o' the best o't yet;
Gae seek for pleasure where ye will-
But here I never miss'd it yet.

We're a' dry wi' drinking o't;

We're a' dry wi' drinking o't;

The minister kiss'd the fiddler's wife,
And couldna preach for thinking o't.*

TWINE YE WEEL THE PLAIDEN.

TUNE-Twine ye weel the Plaiden.

OH! I hae lost my silken snood,
That tied my hair sae yellow;
I've gi'en my heart to the lad I loo'd;
He was a gallant fellow.

And twine it weel, my bonnie dow,
And twine ye weel the plaiden;
The lassie lost her silken snood,
In pu'in' o' the bracken.

He praised my een sae bonnie blue,
Sae lily-white my skin, O;
And syne he pried my bonnie mou,
And swore it was nae sin, O.

From Johnson's Scots Musical Museum, Part III., 1790. This ditty affords a capital instance of the mechant spirit of Scottish song. The singer, during the first two or three verses, is apparently absorbed in the idea of holding a saucy fair one light in comparison with the joys of drinking; when all at once, without the least temptation, he is seized with a fit of irreverence for the clergy, and ends with a fling at that body, not less unjust than unprovoked.