No More Learning

The lav'rock shuns the palace gay,
And o'er the cottage sings;
For nature smiles as sweet, I ween,
To shepherds as to kings

III.

Let minstrels sweep the skilfu' string
In lordly lighted ha':
The shepherd stops his simple reed,
Blythe, in the birken shaw.

IV.

The princely revel may survey
Our rustic dance wi' scorn;
But are their hearts as light as ours,
Beneath the milk-white thorn?

V.

The shepherd, in the flow'ry glen,
In shepherd's phrase will woo:
The courtier tells a finer tale--
But is his heart as true?

VI.

These wild-wood flowers I've pu'd, to deck
That spotless breast o' thine:
The courtier's gems may witness love--
But 'tis na love like mine.

* * * * *




CCXXXII.

CHLOE.

Air--"_Daintie Davie. _"

[Burns, despairing to fit some of the airs with such verses of
original manufacture as Thomson required, for the English part of his
collection, took the liberty of bestowing a Southron dress on some
genuine Caledonian lyrics. The origin of this song may be found in
Ramsay's miscellany: the bombast is abated, and the whole much
improved. ]


I.

It was the charming month of May,
When all the flow'rs were fresh and gay,
One morning, by the break of day,
The youthful charming Chloe
From peaceful slumber she arose,
Girt on her mantle and her hose,
And o'er the flowery mead she goes,
The youthful charming Chloe.
Lovely was she by the dawn,
Youthful Chloe, charming Chloe,
Tripping o'er the pearly lawn,
The youthful charming Chloe.

II.

The feather'd people you might see,
Perch'd all around, on every tree,
In notes of sweetest melody
They hail the charming Chloe;
Till painting gay the eastern skies,
The glorious sun began to rise,
Out-rivall'd by the radiant eyes
Of youthful, charming Chloe.
Lovely was she by the dawn,
Youthful Chloe, charming Chloe,
Tripping o'er the pearly lawn,
The youthful, charming Chloe.

* * * * *




CCXXXIII.

LASSIE WI' THE LINT-WHITE LOCKS.

Tune--"_Rothemurche's Rant. _"

["Conjugal love," says the poet, "is a passion which I deeply feel and
highly venerate: but somehow it does not make such a figure in poesie
as that other species of the passion, where love is liberty and nature
law. Musically speaking, the first is an instrument of which the gamut
is scanty and confined, but the tones inexpressibly sweet, while the
last has powers equal to all the intellectual modulations of the human
soul. " It must be owned that the bard could render very pretty reasons
for his rapture about Jean Lorimer. ]


I.

Lassie wi' the lint-white locks,
Bonnie lassie, artless lassie,
Wilt thou wi' me tent the flocks?
Wilt thou be my dearie, O?
Now nature cleeds the flowery lea,
And a' is young and sweet like thee;
O wilt thou share its joy wi' me,
And say thoul't be my dearie, O?

II.

And when the welcome simmer shower
Has cheer'd ilk drooping little flower,
We'll to the breathing woodbine bower
At sultry noon, my dearie, O.