Young Peggy blooms our
bonniest
lass,
Her blush is like the morning,
The rosy dawn, the springing grass,
With early gems adorning:
Her eyes outshone the radiant beams
That gild the passing shower,
And glitter o'er the crystal streams,
And cheer each fresh'ning flower.
Her blush is like the morning,
The rosy dawn, the springing grass,
With early gems adorning:
Her eyes outshone the radiant beams
That gild the passing shower,
And glitter o'er the crystal streams,
And cheer each fresh'ning flower.
Robert Burns
_"
[Who these Mauchline belles were the bard in other verse informs us:--
"Miss Miller is fine, Miss Markland's divine,
Miss Smith, she has wit, and Miss Betty is braw;
There's beauty and fortune to get with Miss Morton,
But Armour's the jewel for me o' them a'. "]
I.
O leave novels, ye Mauchline belles,
Ye're safer at your spinning-wheel;
Such witching books are baited hooks
For rakish rooks, like Rob Mossgiel.
II.
Your fine Tom Jones and Grandisons,
They make your youthful fancies reel;
They heat your brains, and fire your veins,
And then you're prey for Rob Mossgiel.
III.
Beware a tongue that's smoothly hung,
A heart that warmly seems to feel;
That feeling heart but acts a part--
'Tis rakish art in Rob Mossgiel.
IV.
The frank address, the soft caress,
Are worse than poison'd darts of steel;
The frank address and politesse
Are all finesse in Rob Mossgiel.
* * * * *
XXII.
YOUNG PEGGY.
Tune--"_Last time I cam o'er the muir. _"
[In these verses Burns, it is said, bade farewell to one on whom he
had, according to his own account, wasted eights months of courtship.
We hear no more of Montgomery's Peggy. ]
I.
Young Peggy blooms our bonniest lass,
Her blush is like the morning,
The rosy dawn, the springing grass,
With early gems adorning:
Her eyes outshone the radiant beams
That gild the passing shower,
And glitter o'er the crystal streams,
And cheer each fresh'ning flower.
II.
Her lips, more than the cherries bright,
A richer dye has graced them;
They charm th' admiring gazer's sight,
And sweetly tempt to taste them:
Her smile is, as the evening mild,
When feather'd tribes are courting,
And little lambkins wanton wild,
In playful bands disporting.
III.
Were fortune lovely Peggy's foe,
Such sweetness would relent her,
As blooming spring unbends the brow
Of surly, savage winter.
Detraction's eye no aim can gain,
Her winning powers to lessen;
And fretful envy grins in vain
The poison'd tooth to fasten.
IV.
Ye powers of honour, love, and truth,
From every ill defend her;
Inspire the highly-favour'd youth,
The destinies intend her:
Still fan the sweet connubial flame
Responsive in each bosom,
And bless the dear parental name
With many a filial blossom.
* * * * *
XXIII.
THE CURE FOR ALL CARE.
Tune--"_Prepare, my dear brethren, to the tavern_ _let's fly. _"
[Tarbolton Lodge, of which the poet was a member, was noted for its
socialities. Masonic lyrics are all of a dark and mystic order; and
those of Burns are scarcely an exception. ]
I.
No churchman am I for to rail and to write,
No statesman nor soldier to plot or to fight,
No sly man of business, contriving to snare--
For a big-bellied bottle's the whole of my care.
II.
[Who these Mauchline belles were the bard in other verse informs us:--
"Miss Miller is fine, Miss Markland's divine,
Miss Smith, she has wit, and Miss Betty is braw;
There's beauty and fortune to get with Miss Morton,
But Armour's the jewel for me o' them a'. "]
I.
O leave novels, ye Mauchline belles,
Ye're safer at your spinning-wheel;
Such witching books are baited hooks
For rakish rooks, like Rob Mossgiel.
II.
Your fine Tom Jones and Grandisons,
They make your youthful fancies reel;
They heat your brains, and fire your veins,
And then you're prey for Rob Mossgiel.
III.
Beware a tongue that's smoothly hung,
A heart that warmly seems to feel;
That feeling heart but acts a part--
'Tis rakish art in Rob Mossgiel.
IV.
The frank address, the soft caress,
Are worse than poison'd darts of steel;
The frank address and politesse
Are all finesse in Rob Mossgiel.
* * * * *
XXII.
YOUNG PEGGY.
Tune--"_Last time I cam o'er the muir. _"
[In these verses Burns, it is said, bade farewell to one on whom he
had, according to his own account, wasted eights months of courtship.
We hear no more of Montgomery's Peggy. ]
I.
Young Peggy blooms our bonniest lass,
Her blush is like the morning,
The rosy dawn, the springing grass,
With early gems adorning:
Her eyes outshone the radiant beams
That gild the passing shower,
And glitter o'er the crystal streams,
And cheer each fresh'ning flower.
II.
Her lips, more than the cherries bright,
A richer dye has graced them;
They charm th' admiring gazer's sight,
And sweetly tempt to taste them:
Her smile is, as the evening mild,
When feather'd tribes are courting,
And little lambkins wanton wild,
In playful bands disporting.
III.
Were fortune lovely Peggy's foe,
Such sweetness would relent her,
As blooming spring unbends the brow
Of surly, savage winter.
Detraction's eye no aim can gain,
Her winning powers to lessen;
And fretful envy grins in vain
The poison'd tooth to fasten.
IV.
Ye powers of honour, love, and truth,
From every ill defend her;
Inspire the highly-favour'd youth,
The destinies intend her:
Still fan the sweet connubial flame
Responsive in each bosom,
And bless the dear parental name
With many a filial blossom.
* * * * *
XXIII.
THE CURE FOR ALL CARE.
Tune--"_Prepare, my dear brethren, to the tavern_ _let's fly. _"
[Tarbolton Lodge, of which the poet was a member, was noted for its
socialities. Masonic lyrics are all of a dark and mystic order; and
those of Burns are scarcely an exception. ]
I.
No churchman am I for to rail and to write,
No statesman nor soldier to plot or to fight,
No sly man of business, contriving to snare--
For a big-bellied bottle's the whole of my care.
II.
