The Modern Scottish Minstrel Volume I Part 11

"Far hae I wander'd to see thee, dear la.s.sie!

Far hae I ventured across the saut sea; Far hae I travell'd ower moorland and mountain, Houseless and weary, sleep'd cauld on the lea.

Ne'er hae I tried yet to mak love to onie, For ne'er lo'ed I onie till ance I lo'ed you; Now we 're alane in the green-wood sae bonnie-- Oh, tell me how for to woo!"

"What care I for your wand'ring, young laddie?

What care I for your crossing the sea?

It was na for naething ye left poor young Peggie; It was for my tocher ye cam' to court me.

Say, hae ye gowd to busk me aye gaudie?

Ribbons, and perlins, and breast-knots enew?

A house that is canty, with wealth in 't, my laddie?

Without this ye never need try for to woo."

"I hae na gowd to busk ye aye gaudie; I canna buy ribbons and perlins enew; I 've naething to brag o' house, or o' plenty, I 've little to gi'e, but a heart that is true.

I cam' na for tocher--I ne'er heard o' onie; I never lo'ed Peggy, nor e'er brak my vow: I 've wander'd, puir fule! for a face fause as bonnie: I little thocht this was the way for to woo."

"Our laird has fine houses, and guineas o' gowd He 's youthfu', he 's blooming, and comely to see.

The leddies are a' ga'en wud for the wooer, And yet, ilka e'ening, he leaves them for me.

Oh, saft in the gloaming, his love he discloses!

And saftly, yestreen, as I milked my cow, He swore that my breath it was sweeter than roses, And a' the gait hame he did naething but woo."

"Ah, Jenny! the young laird may brag o' his siller, His houses, his lands, and his lordly degree; His speeches for _true love_ may drap sweet as honey, But trust me, dear Jenny, he ne'er lo'ed like _me_.

The wooin' o' gentry are fine words o' fashion-- The faster they fa' as the heart is least true; The dumb look o' love 's aft the best proof o' pa.s.sion; The heart that feels maist is the least fit to woo."

"Hae na ye roosed my cheeks like the morning?

Hae na ye roosed my cherry-red mou'?

Hae na ye come ower sea, moor, and mountain?

What mair, Johnnie, need ye to woo?

Far ye wander'd, I ken, my dear laddie; Now that ye 've found me, there 's nae cause to rue; Wi' health we 'll hae plenty--I 'll never gang gaudie; I ne'er wish'd for mair than a heart that is true."

She hid her fair face in her true lover's bosom, The saft tear o' transport fill'd ilk lover's e'e; The burnie ran sweet by their side as they sabbit, And sweet sang the mavis aboon on the tree.

He clasp'd her, he press'd her, and ca'd her his hinny; And aften he tasted her honey-sweet mou'; And aye, 'tween ilk kiss, she sigh'd to her Johnnie, "Oh, laddie! weel can ye woo."

[14] Mr Graham, of Gartmore, an intimate friend of Hector Macneill, composed a song, having a similar burden, the chorus proceeding thus:--

"Then, tell me how to woo thee, love; Oh, tell me how to woo thee!

For thy dear sake nae care I'll take, Though ne'er another trow me."

This was published by Sir Walter Scott, in the "Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border," as a production of the reign of Charles I.

La.s.sIE WI' THE GOWDEN HAIR.

La.s.sie wi' the gowden hair, Silken snood, and face sae fair; La.s.sie wi' the yellow hair, Thinkna to deceive me.

La.s.sie wi' the gowden hair, Flattering smile, and face sae fair, Fare ye weel! for never mair Johnnie will believe ye.

Oh, no! Mary Bawn, Mary Bawn, Mary Bawn; Oh, no! Mary Bawn, ye 'll nae mair deceive me.

Smiling, twice ye made me troo, Twice, poor fool! I turn'd to woo; Twice, fause maid! ye brak your vow; Now I 've sworn to leave ye.

Twice, fause maid! ye brak your vow; Twice, poor fool! I 've learn'd to rue; Come ye yet to mak me troo?

Thrice ye 'll ne'er deceive me.

No, no! Mary Bawn, Mary Bawn, Mary Bawn; Oh, no! Mary Bawn; thrice ye 'll ne'er deceive me.

Mary saw him turn to part; Deep his words sank in her heart; Soon the tears began to start-- "Johnnie, will ye leave me?"

Soon the tears began to start, Grit and gritter grew his heart; "Yet a word before we part, Love could ne'er deceive ye.

Oh, no! Johnnie doo, Johnnie doo, Johnnie doo; Oh, no! Johnnie doo--love could ne'er deceive ye."

Johnnie took a parting keek; Saw the tears drap owre her cheek; Pale she stood, but couldna speak-- Mary 's cured o' smiling.

Johnnie took anither keek-- Beauty's rose has left her cheek; Pale she stands, and canna speak.

This is nae beguiling.

Oh, no! Mary Bawn, Mary Bawn, dear Mary Bawn; Oh, no; Mary Bawn--love has nae beguiling.

COME UNDER MY PLAIDIE.

TUNE--_"Johnnie M'Gill."_

"Come under my plaidie, the night 's gaun to fa'; Come in frae the cauld blast, the drift, and the snaw; Come under my plaidie, and sit down beside me, There 's room in 't, dear la.s.sie, believe me, for twa.

Come under my plaidie, and sit down beside me, I 'll hap ye frae every cauld blast that can blaw: Oh, come under my plaidie, and sit down beside me!

There 's room in 't, dear la.s.sie, believe me, for twa."

"Gae 'wa wi' your plaidie, auld Donald, gae 'wa, I fear na the cauld blast, the drift, nor the snaw; Gae 'wa wi' your plaidie, I 'll no sit beside ye; Ye may be my gutcher;--auld Donald, gae 'wa.

I 'm gaun to meet Johnnie, he 's young and he 's bonnie; He 's been at Meg's bridal, fu' trig and fu' braw; Oh, nane dances sae lightly, sae gracefu', sae tightly!

His cheek 's like the new rose, his brow 's like the snaw."

"Dear Marion, let that flee stick fast to the wa'; Your Jock 's but a gowk, and has naething ava; The hale o' his pack he has now on his back-- He 's thretty, and I am but threescore and twa.

Be frank now and kindly; I 'll busk ye aye finely; To kirk or to market they 'll few gang sae braw; A bein house to bide in, a chaise for to ride in, And flunkies to 'tend ye as aft as ye ca'."

"My father 's aye tauld me, my mither and a', Ye 'd mak a gude husband, and keep me aye braw; It 's true I lo'e Johnnie, he 's gude and he 's bonnie; But, waes me! ye ken he has naething ava.

I hae little tocher; you 've made a gude offer; I 'm now mair than twenty--my time is but sma'; Sae gi'e me your plaidie, I 'll creep in beside ye-- I thocht ye 'd been aulder than threescore and twa."

She c.r.a.p in ayont him, aside the stane wa', Whare Johnnie was list'ning, and heard her tell a'; The day was appointed, his proud heart it dunted, And strack 'gainst his side as if bursting in twa.

He wander'd hame weary, the night it was dreary; And, thowless, he tint his gate 'mang the deep snaw; The owlet was screamin' while Johnnie cried, "Women Wad marry Auld Nick if he 'd keep them aye braw."

I LO'ED NE'ER A LADDIE BUT ANE.[15]

I lo'ed ne'er a laddie but ane, He lo'ed ne'er a la.s.sie but me; He 's willing to mak' me his ain, And his ain I am willing to be.

He has coft me a rokelay o' blue, And a pair o' mittens o' green; The price was a kiss o' my mou', And I paid him the debt yestreen.

Let ithers brag weel o' their gear, Their land and their lordly degree; I carena for aught but my dear, For he 's ilka thing lordly to me: His words are sae sugar'd and sweet!

His sense drives ilk fear far awa'!