[This is an old song, upon which Burns appears to have made only a few alterations.]

FIRST WHEN MAGGY WAS MY CARE.

TUNE-Whistle o'er the Lave o't.

First when Maggy was my care,
Heaven I thought was in her air;
Now we're married-speir nae mair-
Whistle o'er the lave o't.

Meg was meek, and Meg was mild,
Bonnie Meg was nature's child;
Wiser men than me's beguiled—
Whistle o'er the lave o't.

How we live, my Meg and me,
How we love, and how we 'gree,
I care na by how few may see-
Whistle o'er the lave o't.
Wha I wish were maggots' meat,
Dished up in her winding-sheet,
I could write-but Meg maun see't—
Whistle o'er the lave o't.

inquire

JAMIE, COME TRY ME.

Jamie, come try me;

Jamie, come try me;
If thou would win my love,
Jamie, come try me.

[The second and last stanzas alone are by Burns; the rest is from an old Jacobite song.]

WHARE HAE YE BEEN?

TUNE-Killiecrankie.

Whare hae ye been sae braw, lad?
Where hae ye been sae brankie, O?
Oh, whare hae ye been sae braw, lad?
Cam ye by Killiecrankie, O?

pranked

The chorus of this song is old; the rest of it was written by Burns.'-Stenhouse.]

CA' THE EWES TO THE KNOWES.

Ca' the ewes to the knowes,

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

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

Will ye gang down the water-side,
And see the waves sae sweetly glide?
Beneath the hazel spreading wide,

The moon it shines fu' clearly.

[Ye sall get gowns and ribbons meet,
Cauf leather shoon upon your feet,
And in my arms ye 'se lie and sleep,
And ye sall be my dearie.

If ye but stand to what ye've said,
I'se
gang wi' you, my shepherd lad,
And ye may row me in your plaid,
And I sall be your dearie.]

While waters wimple to the sea,
While day blinks in the lift sae hie,

Till clay-cauld death shall blin' my ee,

Ye sall be my dearie.

[The verses within brackets are old, with only a few touches of improvement by Burns.]

FOR A' THAT, AND A' THAT.

Though women's minds, like winter winds,
May shift and turn, and a' that;
The noblest breast adores them maist,
A consequence I draw that.
For a' that, and a' that,

And twice as mickle's a' that,
The bonnie lass that I loe best,
Shall be my ain for a' that, &c.

YOUNG JOCKEY.

TUNE-Young Jockey.

Young Jockey was the blithest lad
In a' our town or here awa:
Fu' blithe he whistled at the gaud,
Fu' lightly danced he in the ha'.
He roosed my een, sae bonnie blue,

He roosed my waist, sae genty sma';
And aye my heart came to my mou',
When ne'er a body heard or saw.

My Jockey toils upon the plain,

praised

Through wind and weet, through frost and snaw: And o'er the lea I leuk fu' fain,

When Jockey's owsen hameward ca'.

And aye the night comes round again,
When in his arms he takes me a';

And aye he vows he'll be my ain,

As lang's he has a breath to draw.

['The whole of [this song], excepting three or four lines, is the production of Burns.'-Stenhouse.]

WHA IS THAT AT MY BOWER DOOR?

TUNE-Lass, an I come near thee.

Wha is that at my bower door?

O wha is it but Findlay :

Then gae your gate, ye's nae be here!

Indeed maun I, quo' Findlay.

What mak ye, sae like a thief?

O come and see, quo' Findlay.

Before the morn ye'll work mischief;
Indeed will I, quo' Findlay.

SONGS IMPROVED.

Gif I rise and let you in;

Let me in, quo' Findlay:

Ye'll keep me waukin' wi' your din;
Indeed will I, quo' Findlay.
In my bower if ye should stay;
Let me stay, quo' Findlay:
I fear ye'll bide till break o' day;
Indeed will I, quo' Findlay.

Here this night if ye remain;
I'll remain, quo' Findlay:
I dread ye'll learn the gate again;
Indeed will I, quo' Findlay.
What may pass within this bower;

Let it pass, quo' Findlay:

Ye maun conceal till your last hour;
Indeed will I, quo' Findlay.

259

['Mr Gilbert Burns told the editor (Cromek) that this song was suggested to his brother by the Auld Man's Address to the Widow, printed in Ramsay's Tea-Table Miscellany, which the poet first heard sung by Jean Wilson, a silly old widowwoman, then living at Torbolton, remarkable for the simplicity and naïveté of her character, and for singing old Scotch songs with a peculiar energy and earnestness of manner. Having outlived her family, she still retained the form of family worship; and before she sang a hymn, she would gravely give out the first line of the verse, as if she had a numerous audience, to the great diversion of her listening neighbours.'-CROMEK.]

THE TITHER MORN.

To a Highland air.

The tither morn, when I forlorn
Aneath an aik sat moaning,
I did na trow, I'd see my jo,
Beside me, 'gain the gloaming.
But he sae trig, lap o'er the rig,
And dawtingly did cheer me,
When I, what reck, did least expec',

To see my lad so near me.

His bonnet he, a thought ajee,

Cocked sprush when first he clasped me;

And I, I wat, wi' fainness grat,

While in his grips he pressed me.
Deil tak the war! I late and air,
Hae wished, since Jock departed;

But now as glad I'm wi' my lad,