The Modern Scottish Minstrel Volume Ii Part 21

When I think my Annie views thee, Dearly do I love thy rays, For the distance that divides us Seems to vanish as I gaze.

[90] Composed in 1807.

THE ROOF OF STRAW.

I ask no lordling's t.i.tled name, Nor miser's h.o.a.rded store; I ask to live with those I love, Contented though I 'm poor.

From joyless pomp and heartless mirth I gladly will withdraw, And hide me in this lowly vale, Beneath my roof of straw.

To hear my Nancy's lips p.r.o.nounce A husband's cherish'd name, To press my children to my heart Are t.i.tles, wealth and fame.

Let kings and conquerors delight To hold the world in awe, Be mine to find content and peace Beneath my roof of straw.

When round the winters' warm fireside We meet with social joy, The glance of love to every heart Shall speak from every eye.

More lovely far such such scenes of bliss Than monarch ever saw, Even angels might delight to dwell Beneath my roof of straw.

THOU KEN'ST, MARY HAY.[91]

TUNE--_"Bonny Mary Hay."_

Thou ken'st, Mary Hay, that I loe thee weel, My ain auld wife, sae canty and leal, Then what gars thee stand wi' the tear in thine e'e, And look aye sae wae, when thou look'st at me?

Dost thou miss, Mary Hay, the saft bloom o' my cheek, And the hair curling round it, sae gentie and sleek?

For the snaw 's on my head, and the roses are gane, Since that day o' days I first ca'd thee my ain.

But though, Mary Hay, my auld e'en be grown dim, An age, wi' its frost, maks cauld every limb, My heart, thou kens weel, has nae cauldness for thee, For simmer returns at the blink o' thine e'e.

The miser hauds firmer and firmer his gold, The ivy sticks close to the tree, when its old, And still thou grows't dearer to me, Mary Hay, As a' else turns eerie, and life wears away.

We maun part, Mary Hay, when our journey is done, But I 'll meet thee again in the bricht world aboon, Then what gars thee stand wi' the tear in thine e'e, And look aye sae wae when thou look'st at me?

[91] Composed in 1830.

ROBERT ALLAN.

Robert Allan was the son of a respectable flax-dresser in the village of Kilbarchan, Renfrewshire. The third of a family of ten children, he was born on the 4th of November 1774. Inheriting a taste for music, he early evinced talent in the composition of song, which was afterwards fostered by the encouragement of Tannahill and Robert Archibald Smith. With Tannahill he lived on terms of the most cordial friendship. He followed the occupation of a muslin weaver in his native place, and composed many of his best verses at the loom. He was an extensive contributor to the "Scottish Minstrel," published by R. A. Smith, his songs being set to music by the editor. In 1820, a number of his songs appeared in the "Harp of Renfrewshire." His only separate volume was published in 1836, under the editorial revision of Robert Burns Hardy, teacher of elocution in Glasgow.

In his more advanced years, Allan, who was naturally of good and benevolent dispositions, became peculiarly irritable; he fancied that his merits as a poet had been overlooked, and the feeling preyed deeply upon his mind. He entertained extreme political opinions, and conceived a dislike to his native country, which he deemed had not sufficiently estimated his genius. Much in opposition to the wishes of his friends, he sailed for New York in his 67th year. He survived the pa.s.sage only six days; he died at New York on the 1st June 1841.

Robert Allan is ent.i.tled to an honourable position as a writer of Scottish song; all his lyrics evince a correct appreciation of the beautiful in nature, and of the pure and elevated in sentiment. Several of his lays are unsurpa.s.sed in genuine pathos.[92]

[92] We have to acknowledge our obligations to Mr John Macgregor, of Paisley, son-in-law of Mr Allan, for most of the particulars contained in this short memoir. Mr Macgregor prepared an extended life of the poet for our use, which, however, was scarcely suited for our purpose. A number of Mr Allan's songs, transcribed from his ma.n.u.scripts, in the possession of his son in New York, were likewise communicated by Mr Macgregor. These being, in point of merit, unequal to the other productions of the bard, we have not ventured on their publication.

BLINK OVER THE BURN, MY SWEET BETTY.

Blink over the burn, my sweet Betty, Blink over the burn, love, to me; O, lang hae I look'd, my dear Betty, To get but a blink o' thine e'e.

The birds are a' sporting around us, And sweetly they sing on the tree; But the voice o' my bonny sweet Betty, I trow, is far dearer to me.

The ringlets, my lovely young Betty, That wave o'er thy bonnie e'ebree, I 'll twine wi' the flowers o' the mountain, That blossom sae sweetly, like thee.

Then come o'er the burn, my sweet Betty, Come over the burn, love, to me; O, sweet is the bliss, my dear Betty, To live in the blink o' thine e'e.

COME AWA, HIE AWA.

AIR--_"Haud awa frae me, Donald."_

Come awa, hie awa, Come and be mine ain, la.s.sie; Row thee in my tartan plaid, An' fear nae wintry rain, la.s.sie.

A gowden brooch, an' siller belt, Wi' faithfu' heart I 'll gie, la.s.sie, Gin ye will lea' your Lawland hame, For Highland hills wi' me, la.s.sie.

Come awa, &c.

A bonnie bower shall be thy hame, And drest in silken sheen, la.s.sie.

Ye 'll be the fairest in the ha', And gayest on the green, la.s.sie.

Come awa, &c.

ANSWER.

Haud awa, bide awa, Haud awa frae me, Donald; What care I for a' your wealth, And a' that ye can gie, Donald?

I wadna lea' my Lowland lad For a' your gowd and gear, Donald; Sae tak' your plaid, an' o'er the hill, An' stay nae langer here, Donald.

Haud awa, &c.

My Jamie is a gallant youth, I lo'e but him alane, Donald, And in bonnie Scotland's isle, Like him there is nane, Donald; Haud awa, &c.

He wears nae plaid, or tartan hose, Nor garters at his knee, Donald; But oh, he wears a faithfu' heart, And love blinks in his e'e, Donald.

Sae haud awa, bide awa, Come nae mair at e'en, Donald; I wadna break my Jamie's heart, To be a Highland Queen, Donald.