_"
[Part of this song belongs to an old maritime strain, with the same
title: it was communicated, along with many other songs, made or
amended by Burns, to the Musical Museum.
[Part of this song belongs to an old maritime strain, with the same
title: it was communicated, along with many other songs, made or
amended by Burns, to the Musical Museum.
Robert Forst
]
I.
The lazy mist hangs from the brow of the hill,
Concealing the course of the dark winding rill;
How languid the scenes, late so sprightly, appear!
As Autumn to Winter resigns the pale year.
The forests are leafless, the meadows are brown,
And all the gay foppery of summer is flown:
Apart let me wander, apart let me muse,
How quick Time is flying, how keen Fate pursues!
II.
How long have I liv'd, but how much liv'd in vain!
How little of life's scanty span may remain!
What aspects, old Time, in his progress, has worn!
What ties cruel Fate in my bosom has torn!
How foolish, or worse, till our summit is gain'd!
And downward, how weaken'd, how darken'd, how pain'd!
Life is not worth having with all it can give--
For something beyond it poor man sure must live.
* * * * *
LXXIV.
THE CAPTAIN'S LADY.
Tune--"_O mount and go.
_"
[Part of this song belongs to an old maritime strain, with the same
title: it was communicated, along with many other songs, made or
amended by Burns, to the Musical Museum. ]
CHORUS.
O mount and go,
Mount and make you ready;
O mount and go,
And be the Captain's Lady.
I.
When the drums do beat,
And the cannons rattle,
Thou shall sit in state,
And see thy love in battle.
II.
When the vanquish'd foe
Sues for peace and quiet,
To the shades we'll go,
And in love enjoy it.
O mount and go,
Mount and make you ready;
O mount and go,
And be the Captain's Lady.
* * * * *
LXXV.
OF A' THE AIRTS THE WIND CAN BLAW
Tune--"_Miss Admiral Gordon's Strathspey. _"
[Bums wrote this charming song in honour of Joan Armour: he archly
says in his notes, "P. S. it was during the honeymoon. " Other
versions are abroad; this one is from the manuscripts of the poet. ]
I.
Of a' the airts the wind can blaw,
I dearly like the west,
For there the bonnie lassie lives,
The lassie I lo'e best:
There wild-woods grow, and rivers row,
And mony a hill between;
But day and night my fancy's flight
Is ever wi' my Jean.
I.
The lazy mist hangs from the brow of the hill,
Concealing the course of the dark winding rill;
How languid the scenes, late so sprightly, appear!
As Autumn to Winter resigns the pale year.
The forests are leafless, the meadows are brown,
And all the gay foppery of summer is flown:
Apart let me wander, apart let me muse,
How quick Time is flying, how keen Fate pursues!
II.
How long have I liv'd, but how much liv'd in vain!
How little of life's scanty span may remain!
What aspects, old Time, in his progress, has worn!
What ties cruel Fate in my bosom has torn!
How foolish, or worse, till our summit is gain'd!
And downward, how weaken'd, how darken'd, how pain'd!
Life is not worth having with all it can give--
For something beyond it poor man sure must live.
* * * * *
LXXIV.
THE CAPTAIN'S LADY.
Tune--"_O mount and go.
_"
[Part of this song belongs to an old maritime strain, with the same
title: it was communicated, along with many other songs, made or
amended by Burns, to the Musical Museum. ]
CHORUS.
O mount and go,
Mount and make you ready;
O mount and go,
And be the Captain's Lady.
I.
When the drums do beat,
And the cannons rattle,
Thou shall sit in state,
And see thy love in battle.
II.
When the vanquish'd foe
Sues for peace and quiet,
To the shades we'll go,
And in love enjoy it.
O mount and go,
Mount and make you ready;
O mount and go,
And be the Captain's Lady.
* * * * *
LXXV.
OF A' THE AIRTS THE WIND CAN BLAW
Tune--"_Miss Admiral Gordon's Strathspey. _"
[Bums wrote this charming song in honour of Joan Armour: he archly
says in his notes, "P. S. it was during the honeymoon. " Other
versions are abroad; this one is from the manuscripts of the poet. ]
I.
Of a' the airts the wind can blaw,
I dearly like the west,
For there the bonnie lassie lives,
The lassie I lo'e best:
There wild-woods grow, and rivers row,
And mony a hill between;
But day and night my fancy's flight
Is ever wi' my Jean.
