The lasses a', baith far and near, Hae heard o' Rob the Ranter; Then to his bags he flew wi' speed, Weel hae you play'd your part, quo' Meg; I've lived in Fife, baith maid and wife, "This old song," says Burns," so pregnant with Scottish naïveté and energy, is much relished by all ranks. Its language is a precious model of imitation,—sly, sprightly, and forcibly expressive. Maggie's tongue wags out the nick-names of Rob the piper with all the careless lightsomeness of unrestrained gaiety." KISSING'S NO SIN. ANONYMOUS. Seventeenth or eighteenth century. SOME say that kissing's a sin; But I think it's nane ava, For kissing has wonn'd in this warld Since ever that there was twa. Oh, if it wasna lawfu', Lawyers wadna allow it; If it wasna holy, Ministers wadna do it. If it wasna modest, Maidens wadna tak' it; If it wasna plenty, Puir folk wadna get it. We are indebted to Mr. Robert Chambers for the preservation of this characteristic fragment. It was recovered by him from the singing of a friend, and first printed in 1829 in his "Historical Essay on Scottish Song." FOR A' THAT. ROBERT BURNS. Is there for honest poverty That hangs his head and a' that? Our toils obscure and a' that; What though on hamely fare we dine, Gi'e fools their silks, an' knaves their wine,— A man's a man for a' that. For a' that and a' that, Their tinsel show and a' that; The honest man, though e'er sae poor, Is king o' men for a' that. Ye see yon birkie ca'd a lord, Wha struts and stares and a' that; Though hundreds worship at his word, For a' that and a' that, His riband, star, and a' that; A prince can mak’ a belted knight, Their dignities and a' that; The pith o' sense and pride o' worth Then let us pray that come it may, That sense and worth o'er a' the earth For a' that and a' that, It's comin' yet for a' that, That man to man, the warld o'er, Shall brothers be for a' that. In reference to this immortal song, founded on a more ancient and very inferior one, with the same burden, or "overlay," Burns wrote to Mr. Thomson:—“A great critic (Aikin) on songs says that love and wine are the exclusive themes for songwriting. The following is on neither subject, and consequently is no song; but will be allowed, I think, to contain two or three pretty good prose thoughts inverted into rhyme." SIC A WIFE AS WILLIE HAD. BURNS. Air-"Tibbie Fowler in the glen." The spot they ca'd it Linkumdoddie; Cou'd stown a clue wi' ony bodie; I wadna gi'e a button for her. She has an ee, she has but ane, A clapper tongue wad deave a miller; A whiskin beard about her mou', Her nose and chin they threaten ither. She's bow-hough'd, she's hein-shinn'd, To balance fair in ilka quarter; Auld baudrans by the ingle sits, An' wi' her loof her face a-washin; But Willie's wife is nae sae trig, She dights her grunzie wi' a hushion; Her walie nieves like midden-creels, Her face wad fyle the Logan-water. Sic a wife as Willie had, I wadna gi'e a button for her. MY SPOUSE NANCY. BURNS. Air-"My jo Janet." HUSBAND, husband, cease your strife, Yet I am not your slave, sir. "One of two must still obey, Is it man or woman, say, If 'tis still the lordly word, I'll desert my sovereign lord, And so, good bye, allegiance. "Sad will I be so bereft, Nancy, Nancy; Yet I'll try to make a shift, My spouse Nancy." My poor heart then break it must, "I will hope and trust in heaven, Strength to bear it will be given, Well, sir, from the silent dead "I'll wed another like my dear Then all hell will fly for fear, My spouse Nancy." "Your humorous English song to suit Jo Janet' is inimitable."-Thomson, in a Letter to Burns. WHISTLE O'ER THE LAVE O'T. BURNS. Air-" Whistle o'er the lave o't." FIRST When Maggie was my care, Meg was meek, and Meg was mild, Whistle o'er the lave o't. |