Robert Burns: How To Know Him Part 17

And bade me make nae clatter; 'For our ramgunshoch glum gudeman [surly]

Is o'er ayont the water;' [beyond]

Whae'er shall say I wanted grace, When I did kiss and daut her, [pet]

Let him be planted in my place, Syne say I was the fautor. [Then, transgressor]

Could I for shame, could I for shame, Could I for shame refused her?

And wadna manhood been to blame, Had I unkindly used her?

He clawed her wi' the ripplin-kame, [wool-comb]

And blae and bluidy bruised her; [blue]

When sic a husband was frae hame, What wife but had excused her?

I dighted ay her een sae blue, [wiped, eyes]

And bann'd the cruel randy; [cursed, scoundrel]

And weel I wat her willing mou' [wot, mouth]

Was e'en like sugar-candy.

At gloamin-shot it was, I trow, [sunset]

I lighted, on the Monday; But I cam through the Tysday's dew, [Tuesday's]

To wanton Willie's brandy.

_Macpherson's Farewell_, made famous by Carlyle's appreciation, is a glorified version of the "Dying Words" of a condemned bandit, such as were familiar in broadsides after every notorious execution. Part of the refrain is old. One may imagine _The Highland Balou_ the lullaby of Macpherson's child.

MACPHERSON'S FAREWELL

Farewell, ye dungeons dark and strong, The wretch's destinie!

Macpherson's time will not be long On yonder gallows tree.

Sae rantingly, sae wantonly, [jovially]

Sae dauntingly gaed he; He played a spring and danced it round, [lively tune]

Below the gallows tree.

Oh, what is death but parting breath?

On mony a b.l.o.o.d.y plain I've dared his face, and in his place I scorn him yet again!

Untie these bands from off my hands, And bring to me my sword, And there's no a man in all Scotland, But I'll brave him at a word.

I've lived a life of sturt and strife; [trouble]

I die by treacherie: It burns my heart I must depart And not avenged be.

Now farewell light, thou sunshine bright, And all beneath the sky!

May coward shame distain his name, The wretch that dares not die!

THE HIGHLAND BALOU

Hee balou! my sweet wee Donald, [Lullaby]

Picture o' the great Clanronald; Brawlie kens our wanton chief [Finely knows]

Wha got my young Highland thief.

Leeze me on thy bonnie craigie! [Blessings on, throat]

An thou live, thou'll steal a naigie: [If, little nag]

Travel the country thro' and thro', And bring hame a Carlisle cow.

Thro' the Lawlands, o'er the border, Weel, my babie, may thou furder: [succeed]

Herry the louns o' the laigh countree, [Harry, rascals, low]

Syne to the Highlands hame to me. [Then]

Distinct from either of the foregoing groups are several songs in narrative form, told as a rule from the point of view of an onlooker, but hardly inferior to the others in vitality. In them the personal or dramatic emotion is replaced by a keen sense of the humor of the situation.

DUNCAN GRAY

Duncan Gray came here to woo, Ha, ha, the wooing o't, On blythe Yule night when we were fou, [drunk]

Ha, ha, the wooing o't.

Maggie coost her head fu' heigh, [cast, high]

Look'd asklent and unco skeigh, [askance, very skittish]

Gart poor Duncan stand abeigh; [Made, aloof]

Ha, ha, the wooing o't.

Duncan fleech'd, and Duncan pray'd; [wheedled]

Ha, ha, the wooing o't, Meg was deaf as Ailsa Craig, Ha, ha, the wooing o't, Duncan sigh'd baith out and in, Grat his een baith bleer't and blin', [Wept, eyes both]

Spak o' lowpin o'er a linn; [leaping, waterfall]

Ha, ha, the wooing o't.

Time and chance are but a tide, Ha, ha, the wooing o't, Slighted love is sair to bide, [sore, endure]

Ha, ha, the wooing o't.

'Shall I, like a fool,' quoth he, 'For a naughty hizzie die? [hussy]

She may gae to--France for me!'

Ha, ha, the wooing o't

How it comes let doctors tell, Ha, ha, the wooing o't, Meg grew sick as he grew haill, [whole]

Ha, ha, the wooing o't.

Something in her bosom wrings, For relief a sigh she brings; And O, her een they spak sic things! [such]

Ha, ha, the wooing o't.

Duncan was a lad o' grace, Ha, ha, the wooing o't, Maggie's was a piteous case, Ha, ha, the wooing o't.

Duncan could na be her death, Swelling pity smoor'd his wrath; [smothered]

Now they're crouse and cantie baith! [lively, cheerful]

Ha, ha, the wooing o't.

DUNCAN DAVISON

There was a la.s.s, they ca'd her Meg, [called]

And she held o'er the moors to spin; There was a lad that follow'd her, They ca'd him Duncan Davison.

The moor was driegh, and Meg was skiegh, [dull, skittish]

Her favour Duncan could na win; For wi' the rock she wad him knock, [distaff]

And ay she shook the temper-pin. [regulating pin of the spinning-wheel]

As o'er the moor they lightly foor, [went]

A burn was clear, a glen was green, Upon the banks they eased their shanks, And aye she set the wheel between: But Duncan swore a haly aith, [holy oath]