Poems And Songs Of Robert Burns Part 88

The deil's awa, &c.

The Country La.s.s

In simmer, when the hay was mawn, And corn wav'd green in ilka field, While claver blooms white o'er the lea And roses blaw in ilka beild!

Blythe Bessie in the milking shiel, Says--"I'll be wed, come o't what will": Out spake a dame in wrinkled eild; "O' gude advis.e.m.e.nt comes nae ill.

"It's ye hae wooers mony ane, And la.s.sie, ye're but young ye ken; Then wait a wee, and cannie wale A routhie b.u.t.t, a routhie ben; There's Johnie o' the Buskie-glen, Fu' is his barn, fu' is his byre; Take this frae me, my bonie hen, It's plenty beets the luver's fire."

"For Johnie o' the Buskie-glen, I dinna care a single flie; He lo'es sae weel his c.r.a.ps and kye, He has nae love to spare for me; But blythe's the blink o' Robie's e'e, And weel I wat he lo'es me dear: Ae blink o' him I wad na gie For Buskie-glen and a' his gear."

"O thoughtless la.s.sie, life's a faught; The canniest gate, the strife is sair; But aye fu'--han't is fechtin' best, A hungry care's an unco care: But some will spend and some will spare, An' wilfu' folk maun hae their will; Syne as ye brew, my maiden fair, Keep mind that ye maun drink the yill."

"O gear will buy me rigs o' land, And gear will buy me sheep and kye; But the tender heart o' leesome love, The gowd and siller canna buy; We may be poor--Robie and I-- Light is the burden love lays on; Content and love brings peace and joy-- What mair hae Queens upon a throne?"

Bessy And Her Spinnin' Wheel

O Leeze me on my spinnin' wheel, And leeze me on my rock and reel; Frae tap to tae that cleeds me bien, And haps me biel and warm at e'en; I'll set me down and sing and spin, While laigh descends the simmer sun, Blest wi' content, and milk and meal, O leeze me on my spinnin' wheel.

On ilka hand the burnies trot, And meet below my theekit cot; The scented birk and hawthorn white, Across the pool their arms unite, Alike to screen the birdie's nest, And little fishes' caller rest; The sun blinks kindly in the beil', Where blythe I turn my spinnin' wheel.

On lofty aiks the cushats wail, And Echo cons the doolfu' tale; The lintwhites in the hazel braes, Delighted, rival ither's lays; The craik amang the claver hay, The pairtrick whirring o'er the ley, The swallow jinkin' round my shiel, Amuse me at my spinnin' wheel.

Wi' sma' to sell, and less to buy, Aboon distress, below envy, O wha wad leave this humble state, For a' the pride of a' the great?

Amid their flairing, idle toys, Amid their c.u.mbrous, dinsome joys, Can they the peace and pleasure feel Of Bessy at her spinnin' wheel?

Love For Love

Ithers seek they ken na what, Features, carriage, and a' that; Gie me love in her I court, Love to love maks a' the sport.

Let love sparkle in her e'e; Let her lo'e nae man but me; That's the tocher-gude I prize, There the luver's treasure lies.

Saw Ye Bonie Lesley

O saw ye bonie Lesley, As she gaed o'er the Border?

She's gane, like Alexander, To spread her conquests farther.

To see her is to love her, And love but her for ever; For Nature made her what she is, And never made anither!

Thou art a queen, fair Lesley, Thy subjects, we before thee; Thou art divine, fair Lesley, The hearts o' men adore thee.

The deil he could na scaith thee, Or aught that wad belang thee; He'd look into thy bonie face, And say--"I canna wrang thee!"

The Powers aboon will tent thee, Misfortune sha'na steer thee; Thou'rt like themselves sae lovely, That ill they'll ne'er let near thee.

Return again, fair Lesley, Return to Caledonie!

That we may brag we hae a la.s.s There's nane again sae bonie.

Fragment Of Song

No cold approach, no altered mien, Just what would make suspicion start; No pause the dire extremes between, He made me blest--and broke my heart.

I'll Meet Thee On The Lea Rig

When o'er the hill the eastern star Tells bughtin time is near, my jo, And owsen frae the furrow'd field Return sae dowf and weary O; Down by the burn, where birken buds Wi' dew are hangin clear, my jo, I'll meet thee on the lea-rig, My ain kind Dearie O.

At midnight hour, in mirkest glen, I'd rove, and ne'er be eerie, O, If thro' that glen I gaed to thee, My ain kind Dearie O; Altho' the night were ne'er sae wild, And I were ne'er sae weary O, I'll meet thee on the lea-rig, My ain kind Dearie O.

The hunter lo'es the morning sun; To rouse the mountain deer, my jo; At noon the fisher seeks the glen Adown the burn to steer, my jo: Gie me the hour o' gloamin' grey, It maks my heart sae cheery O, To meet thee on the lea-rig, My ain kind Dearie O.

My Wife's A Winsome Wee Thing

Air--"My Wife's a Wanton Wee Thing."

Chorus.--She is a winsome wee thing, She is a handsome wee thing, She is a lo'esome wee thing, This dear wee wife o' mine.

I never saw a fairer, I never lo'ed a dearer, And neist my heart I'll wear her, For fear my jewel tine, She is a winsome, &c.

The warld's wrack we share o't; The warstle and the care o't; Wi' her I'll blythely bear it, And think my lot divine.

She is a winsome, &c.

Highland Mary

Tune--"Katherine Ogie."