"No cold approach, no alter'd mien,
Just what would make suspicion start;
No pause the dire extremes between,
He made me blest--and broke my heart!
Just what would make suspicion start;
No pause the dire extremes between,
He made me blest--and broke my heart!
Robert Burns
"
* * * * *
YON WILD MOSSY MOUNTAINS.
This tune is by Oswald. The song alludes to a part of my private
history, which it is of no consequence to the world to know.
* * * * *
IT IS NA, JEAN, THY BONNIE FACE.
These were originally English verses:--I gave them the Scots dress.
* * * * *
EPPIE M'NAB.
The old song with this title has more wit than decency.
* * * * *
WHA IS THAT AT MY BOWER DOOR.
This tune is also known by the name of "Lass an I come near thee. " The
words are mine.
* * * * *
THOU ART GANE AWA.
This time is the same with "Haud awa frae me, Donald. "
* * * * *
THE TEARS I SHED MUST EVER FALL.
This song of genius was composed by a Miss Cranston. It wanted four
lines, to make all the stanzas suit the music, which I added, and are
the four first of the last stanza.
"No cold approach, no alter'd mien,
Just what would make suspicion start;
No pause the dire extremes between,
He made me blest--and broke my heart! "
* * * * *
THE BONIE WEE THING.
Composed on my little idol "the charming, lovely Davies. "
* * * * *
THE TITHER MORN.
This tune is originally from the Highlands. I have heard a Gaelic song
to it, which I was told was very clever, but not by any means a lady's
song.
* * * * *
A MOTHER'S LAMENT FOR THE DEATH OF HER SON.
This most beautiful tune is, I think, the happiest composition of that
bard-born genius, John Riddel, of the family of Glencarnock, at Ayr.
The words were composed to commemorate the much-lamented and premature
death of James Ferguson, Esq. , jun. of Craigdarroch.
* * * * *
DAINTIE DAVIE.
This song, tradition says, and the composition itself confirms it, was
composed on the Rev. David Williamson's begetting the daughter of Lady
Cherrytrees with child, while a party of dragoons were searching her
house to apprehend him for being an adherent to the solemn league and
covenant. The pious woman had put a lady's night-cap on him, and had
laid him a-bed with her own daughter, and passed him to the soldiery
as a lady, her daughter's bed-fellow. A mutilated stanza or two are to
be found in Herd's collection, but the original song consists of five
or six stanzas, and were their _delicacy_ equal to their _wit_ and
_humour_, they would merit a place in any collection.
* * * * *
YON WILD MOSSY MOUNTAINS.
This tune is by Oswald. The song alludes to a part of my private
history, which it is of no consequence to the world to know.
* * * * *
IT IS NA, JEAN, THY BONNIE FACE.
These were originally English verses:--I gave them the Scots dress.
* * * * *
EPPIE M'NAB.
The old song with this title has more wit than decency.
* * * * *
WHA IS THAT AT MY BOWER DOOR.
This tune is also known by the name of "Lass an I come near thee. " The
words are mine.
* * * * *
THOU ART GANE AWA.
This time is the same with "Haud awa frae me, Donald. "
* * * * *
THE TEARS I SHED MUST EVER FALL.
This song of genius was composed by a Miss Cranston. It wanted four
lines, to make all the stanzas suit the music, which I added, and are
the four first of the last stanza.
"No cold approach, no alter'd mien,
Just what would make suspicion start;
No pause the dire extremes between,
He made me blest--and broke my heart! "
* * * * *
THE BONIE WEE THING.
Composed on my little idol "the charming, lovely Davies. "
* * * * *
THE TITHER MORN.
This tune is originally from the Highlands. I have heard a Gaelic song
to it, which I was told was very clever, but not by any means a lady's
song.
* * * * *
A MOTHER'S LAMENT FOR THE DEATH OF HER SON.
This most beautiful tune is, I think, the happiest composition of that
bard-born genius, John Riddel, of the family of Glencarnock, at Ayr.
The words were composed to commemorate the much-lamented and premature
death of James Ferguson, Esq. , jun. of Craigdarroch.
* * * * *
DAINTIE DAVIE.
This song, tradition says, and the composition itself confirms it, was
composed on the Rev. David Williamson's begetting the daughter of Lady
Cherrytrees with child, while a party of dragoons were searching her
house to apprehend him for being an adherent to the solemn league and
covenant. The pious woman had put a lady's night-cap on him, and had
laid him a-bed with her own daughter, and passed him to the soldiery
as a lady, her daughter's bed-fellow. A mutilated stanza or two are to
be found in Herd's collection, but the original song consists of five
or six stanzas, and were their _delicacy_ equal to their _wit_ and
_humour_, they would merit a place in any collection.
