Hey, the dusty miller, FAIRLY SHOT OF HER. From "Johnson's Museum." Он, gin I were fairly shot o' her, If she were dead, I wad dance on the top o' her. Till we were married I couldna see licht till her; Nane o' her relations or friends could stay wi' her; She gangs aye sae braw, she's sae muckle pride in her; If the time were but come that to the kirk-gate wi' her, And into the yird I'd mak' mysel' quit o' her, I'd then be as blythe as first when I met wi' her— Oh, gin I were fairly shot o' her! This is a modern version of an old song, and is said to have been written by one John Anderson, at that time apprentice to Johnson the engraver, and publisher of the "Museum," where the song first appeared. WHA wadna be in love Wi' bonnie Maggie Lauder? A piper met her gaun to Fife, And speir'd what wast they ca'd her. Right scornfully she answer'd him, Begone, you hallanshaker! Jog on your gate, you bladderskate ! Maggie, quo' he, and by my bags, For I'm a piper to my trade, My name is Rob the Ranter; Piper, quo' Meg, hae ye your bags, The lasses a', baith far and near, Hae heard o' Rob the Ranter; I'll shake my foot with right gude will, Then to his bags he flew wi' speed, Weel hae you play'd your part, quo' Meg; Since we lost Habbie Simpson. I've lived in Fife, baith maid and wife, These ten years and a quarter ; "This old song," says Burns," so pregnant with Scottish naïveté and energy, is much relished by all ranks, notwithstanding its broad wit and palpable allusions. 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. Bring a' your maut to me, Bring a' your maut to me; My draff ye'se get for ae pund ane, Though a' my deukies should dee. We are indebted to Mr. Robert Chambers for the preservation of the first three verses of this characteristic ditty. 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; 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 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 be two or three pretty good prose thoughts inverted into rhyme." SIC A WIFE AS WILLIE HAD. BURNS. Air-"Tibbie Fowler in the glen." WILLIE Wastle dwalt on Tweed, The spot they ca'd it Linkumdoddie; Willie was a wabster guid, Cou'd stown a clue wi' ony bodie; He had a wife was dour and din, I wadna gi'e a button for her. |