No More Learning

Autumn is my propitious season; I make more verses in it than all the
year else. " The old song of "O my love Annie's very bonnie," helped
the muse of Burns with this lyric. ]


I.

By Allan stream I chanced to rove
While Phoebus sank beyond Benledi;
The winds were whispering through the grove,
The yellow corn was waving ready;
I listened to a lover's sang,
And thought on youthfu' pleasures mony:
And aye the wild wood echoes rang--
O dearly do I lo'e thee, Annie!

II.

O happy be the woodbine bower,
Nae nightly bogle make it eerie;
Nor ever sorrow stain the hour,
The place and time I met my dearie!
Her head upon my throbbing breast,
She, sinking, said, "I'm thine for ever? "
While mony a kiss the seal imprest,
The sacred vow,--we ne'er should sever.

III.

The haunt o' Spring's the primrose brae,
The Simmer joys the flocks to follow;
How cheery, thro' her shortening day,
Is Autumn, in her weeds o' yellow!
But can they melt the glowing heart,
Or chain the soul in speechless pleasure,
Or thro' each nerve the rapture dart,
Like meeting her, our bosom's treasure?

* * * * *




[Illustration: "O WHISTLE, AND I'LL COME TO YOU, MY LAD". ]

CCII.

O WHISTLE, AND I'LL COME TO YOU.

[In one of the variations of this song the name of the heroine is
Jeanie: the song itself owes some of the sentiments as well as words
to an old favourite Nithsdale chant of the same name.
"Is Whistle, and
I'll come to you, my lad," Burns inquires of Thomson, "one of your
airs? I admire it much, and yesterday I set the following verses to
it. " The poet, two years afterwards, altered the fourth line thus:--

"Thy Jeany will venture wi' ye, my lad,"

and assigned this reason: "In fact, a fair dame at whose shrine I, the
priest of the Nine, offer up the incense of Parnassus; a dame whom the
Graces have attired in witchcraft, and whom the Loves have armed with
lightning; a fair one, herself the heroine of the song, insists on the
amendment, and dispute her commands if you dare. "]


I.

O whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad,
O whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad:
Tho' father and mither and a' should gae mad,
O whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad.
But warily tent, when you come to court me,
And come na unless the back-yett be a-jee;
Syne up the back-stile and let naebody see,
And come as ye were na comin' to me.
And come as ye were na comin' to me.

II.

At kirk, or at market, whene'er ye meet me,
Gang by me as tho' that ye car'd na a flie;
But steal me a blink o' your bonnie black e'e,
Yet look as ye were na lookin' at me.
Yet look as ye were na lookin' at me.

III.

Ay vow and protest that ye care na for me,
And whiles ye may lightly my beauty a wee;
But court na anither, tho' jokin' ye be,
For fear that she wyle your fancy frae me.
For fear that she wyle your fancy frae me.

IV.

O whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad,
O whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad:
Tho' father and mither and a' should gae mad,
O whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad.

* * * * *




CCIII.