There I'll despise imperial charms, Awa, thou flaunting god o' day! Ilk star gae hide thy twinkling ray Sun, moon, and stars, withdrawn a'; And bring an angel pen to write My transports wi' my Anna. : It was seldom that Burns strained and laboured to express love and rapture; but here his Muse taxes herself to three verses of song, rather as a penance than a pleasure. I believe, however, that Anna with the golden locks was no imaginary person like the dame in the old song, "She brewed gude ale for gentlemen ;” and while she served the bard with a pint of wine, allowed her customer leisure to admire her, "as hostler wives should do." The "Lass with the gowden locks" was a liberal lady, like the "Lassie with the lintwhite locks." A note imputed to Burns in the Museum says, "I think this is the best love song I ever composed." If the poet wrote this, I am sorry for it. I hope that the words are apocryphal; and I believe they are. MY BONNIE MARY. Go fetch to me a pint o' wine, may A service to my bonnie lassie ! The boat rocks at the pier o' Leith ; Fu' loud the wind blaws frae the ferry; And I maun leave my bonnie Mary. The trumpets sound, the banners fly, The glittering spears are ranked ready; The shouts o' war are heard afar, The battle closes thick and bloody; It's leaving thee, my bonnie Mary. In the notes on Johnson's Museum, Burns claims all this song as his composition except the first four lines. It is written to the old air, called "The silver tassie," and has more of the chivalrous ballad style about it than what was customary with the poet. He seldom went back into old times and old feelings: he stamped off the passing spirit of the moment with unequalled vigour ; the vision of ancient war which the hero saw at Berwick-law came not frequently upon his fancy. WHISTLE, AND I'LL COME TO YOU, MY LAD. O whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad; O whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad: Though father and mither and a' should gae mad, But warily tent, when ye come to court me, O whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad; O whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad: Though father and mither and a' should gae mad, O whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad. At kirk, or at market, whene'er ye meet me, O whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad; Ay vow and protest that ye care na for me, "Whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad," owes its poetry to Burns, and its tune to John Bruce, a musician of Dumfries, an admirable fiddler, a vehement Jacobite, and a fiery highlander. An old song of the same name once existed: the title was more peculiarly Scottish, Whistle, and I'll come till ye, my lad;" and it seems to have lent the chorus and the character to the present song. Burns amended the fourth line thus: Thy Jeanie will venture wi' ye, my lad; and he vindicates the alteration. "A dame whom the graces have attired in witchcraft, and whom the loves have armed with lightning,-a fair one-herself the heroine of the song, insists on the amendment-and dispute her commands if you dare!" I have restored the original line. Jeanie's taste was sometimes as incorrect as the poet's love. THE RANTIN DOG THE DADDIE O'T. O wha my babie-clouts will buy? The rantin dog the daddie o't. Wha will own he did the faut? The rantin dog the daddie o't. When I mount the creepie-chair, The rantin dog the daddie o't.— Wha will crack to me my lane? The rantin dog the daddie o't. To illustrate this song I ought to make a drawing of the "stool of repentance," and place Burns upon it, appearing to listen with a grave if not with a repentant spirit, while inwardly resolving to resent this moral discipline in satiric verse. The poet wrote and sent the song to a young lady whom he had furnished with a very good reason for singing When I mount the creepie-chair, The rantin dog the daddie o't. |