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CA' THE YOWES.*

BURNS.

CA' the yowes to the knowes,
Ca' them where the heather grows,
Ca' them where the burnie rows,
My bonnie dearie.

Hark the mavis' evening sang,
Sounding Cluden's woods amang;
Then a-faulding let us gang,
My bonnie dearie.

We'll gang doun by Cluden side,
Through the hazels spreading wide
O'er the waves that sweetly glide,
My bonnie dearie.

Yonder Cluden's silent towers,
Where, at moonshine midnight hours,
O'er the dewy budding flowers
The fairies dance sae cheerie.

Ghaist nor bogle shalt thou fear;
Thou'rt to love and heaven sae dear,

Nocht of ill may come thee near,
My bonnie dearie.

Fair and lovely as thou art,

Thou hast stown my very heart;

I can die, but canna part,
My bonnie dearie.

* Burns says of this song, in a letter to Thomson, "I am flattered at your adopting Ca' the yowes to the knowes,' as it was owing to me that it ever saw the light. About seven years ago I was well acquainted with a worthy little fellow of a clergyman, a Mr. Clunie, who sang it charmingly; and, at my request, Mr. Clarke took it down from his singing. When I gave it to Johnson, I added some stanzas to the song, and mended others; but still it will not do for you. In a solitary stroll which I took to-day, I tried my hand on a few pastoral lines, following up the idea of the chorus, which I would preserve. Here it is, with all its crudities and imperfections on its head." Mr. Thomson, in reply, calls the song "a precious morceau;" and adds, "I am perfectly astonished and charmed with the endless variety of your fancy."

The original song upon which Burns founded his version is attributed to Isabell or Tibbie Pagan, who died in the neighbourhood of Muirkirk, Ayrshire, in 1821, aged eighty. Some account of her appears in the "Ayrshire Contemporaries of Burns," Edinburgh, 1840. The following version is the original, as revised by Burns for "Johnson's Musical Museum." The last verse is by Burns himself.

Ca' the yowes to the knowes,

Ca' them whare the heather grows,
Ca' them whare the burnie rows,
My bonnie dearie.

As I gaed down the water-side,
There I met my shepherd lad,
He row'd me sweetly in his plaid,
And ca'd me his dearie.

Ca' the yowes, &c.

Will ye gang down the water-side,
And see the waves sae sweetly glide
Beneath the hazels spreading wide,
The moon it shines fu' clearly.
Ca' the yowes, &c.

I was bred up at nae sic school,
My shepherd lad, to play the fool,
And a' the day to sit in dool,
And naebody to see me.

Ca' the yowes, &c.

Ye shall get gowns and ribbons meet,
Cauf-leather shoon upon your feet,
And in my arms ye'se lie and sleep,
And ye shall be my dearie.
Ca' the yowes, &c.

If ye'll but stand to what ye've said,
I'se gang with you, my shepherd lad,
And ye may row me in your plaid,
And I shall be your dearie.
Ca' the yowes, &c.

While waters wimple to the sea,

While day blinks in the lift sae hie,
Till clay-cauld death shall blin' my ee,
Ye aye shall be my dearie.

Ca' the yowes, &c.

GALA WATER.

BURNS.

THERE'S braw, braw lads on Yarrow braes,
That wander through the blooming heather;
But Yarrow braes nor Ettrick shaws

Can match the lads o' Gala water.

But there is ane, a secret ane,

Abune them a' I lo'e him better;
And I'll be his, and he'll be mine,
The bonnie lad o' Gala water.

Although his daddie was nae laird,

And though I hae nae mickle tocher;
Yet rich in kindest, truest love,

We'll tent our flocks on Gala water.

It ne'er was wealth, it ne'er was wealth,
That coft contentment, peace, or pleasure;
The bands and bliss o' mutual love,

Oh, that's the chiefest warld's treasure!

The old tune to which this is sung is very beautiful. Its exact date is unknown. Mr. Stenhouse, to whom the public are indebted for many valuable particulars relating to Scottish music, says it was harmonised by Haydn, for Whyte's collection. On the MS. of the music, which he (Mr. Stenhouse) had seen, Haydn expressed his opinion of the melody in the best English he was master of, in the following emphatic sentence: "This one Dr. Haydn favourite song." The words of the old song are lost, with the exception of the following stanzas :—

Braw, braw lads of Gala water,

Braw, braw lads of Gala water;
I'll kilt my coats aboon my knee,

And follow my love through the water.

O'er yon bank and o'er yon brae,

O'er yon moss amang the heather,

I'll kilt my coats aboon my knee,

And follow my love through the water.

MY NANNIE'S AWA.

BURNS. Air-“There'll never be peace until Jamie comes hame.”

Now in her green mantie blythe Nature arrays,
And listens the lambkins that bleat ower the braes,
While birds warble welcome in ilka green shaw;
But to me it's delightless—my Nannie's awa.

The snaw-drap and primrose our woodlands adorn,
And violets bathe in the weet o' the morn;
They pain my sad bosom, sae sweetly they blaw;
They mind me o' Nannie—and Nannie's awa.

Thou laverock that springs frae the dews of the lawn,
The shepherd to warn of the grey-breaking dawn;
And thou mellow mavis that hails the night-fa',
Give over for pity-my Nannie's awa.

Come, Autumn, sae pensive in yellow and grey,
And soothe me wi' tidings o' nature's decay;
The dark dreary winter and wild driving snaw
Alane can delight me-my Nannie's awa.

The germ of "Nannie's Awa" is to be found in one of Clarinda's letters (see Correspondence, &c., page 185), written thirty-five days after they became acquainted. They were about to part, and she says:-"You'll hardly write me once a month, and other objects will weaken your affection for Clarinda; yet I cannot believe so. Oh! let the scenes of nature remind you of Clarinda! In winter, remember the dark shades of her fate; in summer, the warmth, the cordial warmth of her friendship; in autumn, her glowing wishes to bestow plenty on all; and let spring animate you with hope that your poor friend may yet live to surmount the wintry blast of life, and revive to taste a spring-time of happiness!" This passage, so beautifully descriptive, in the letter of his fair correspondent, was not overlooked by Burns. He says in reply:-"There is one fine passage in your last charming letter-Thomson nor Shenstone never exceeded it, nor often came up to it. I shall certainly steal it, and set it in some future production, and get immortal fame by it. 'Tis where you bid the scenes of nature remind me of Clarinda." The poet was as good as his word. Some months after Clarinda had left this country, Burns, reverting to the passage we have quoted from her letter, made it his own by stamping it in immortal verse, bewailing the absence of Clarinda in a strain of rural imagery that has seldom or never been surpassed."-Cursory Remarks on Scottish Song, by Captain Charles Gray, R.M.

WANDERING WILLIE.

BURNS. Air-" Wandering Willie."

HERE awa, there awa, wandering Willie,
Here awa, there awa, haud awa hame;
Come to my bosom, my ain only dearie,
Tell me thou bringst me my Willie the same.

Winter-winds blew loud and cauld at our parting,
Fears for my Willie brought tears in my ee;
Welcome now simmer, and welcome my Willie,-
As simmer to nature, so Willie to me.

Rest, ye wild storms, in the caves o' your slumbers;
How
your dread howlings a lover alarms!
Blow soft, ye breezes, roll gently, ye billows,
And waft my dear laddie ance mair to my arms.

But oh, if he's faithless, and minds not his Nannie,
Flow still between us, thou dark heaving main;
May I never see it, may I never trow it;

While dying I think that

my Willie's

my ain!

This song was altered by Mr. Erskine and Mr. George Thomson. Burns, with his usual sound judgment, adopted some of these alterations, and rejected others.

MY NANNIE O.

BURNS.

BEHIND yon hills where Lugar flows
Mang moors an' mosses many O,
The wintry sun the day has closed,
And I'll awa to Nannie O.

The westlan wind blaws loud an' shrill,
The night's baith mirk and rainy O;
But I'll get my plaid an' out I'll steal,
An' ower the hills to Nannie O.

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