No More Learning

_"

[This is one of the old songs which Ritson accuses Burns of amending
for the Museum: little of it, however, is his, save a touch here and
there--but they are Burns's touches. ]


I.

Her daddie forbad, her minnie forbad;
Forbidden she wadna be:
She wadna trow't, the browst she brew'd
Wad taste sae bitterlie.
The lang lad they ca' jumpin' John
Beguiled the bonnie lassie,
The lang lad they ca' Jumpin' John
Beguiled the bonnie lassie.

II.

A cow and a cauf, a yowe and a hauf,
And thretty gude shillin's and three;
A vera gude tocher, a cotter-man's dochter,
The lass wi' the bonnie black e'e.
The lang lad they ca' Jumpin' John
Beguiled the bonnie lassie,
The lang lad they ca' Jumpin' John
Beguiled the bonnie lassie.

* * * * *




XLIII

UP IN THE MORNING EARLY

Tune--"_Cold blows the wind. _"

["The chorus of this song," says the poet, in his notes on the
Scottish Lyrics, "is old, the two stanzas are mine. " The air is
ancient, and was a favourite of Mary Stuart, the queen of William the
Third. ]


CHORUS.

Up in the morning's no for me,
Up in the morning early;
When a' the hills are cover'd wi' snaw,
I'm sure it's winter fairly.

I.

Cauld blaws the wind frae east to west,
The drift is driving sairly;
Sae loud and shill I hear the blast,
I'm sure it's winter fairly.

II.
The birds sit chittering in the thorn,
A' day they fare but sparely;
And lang's the night frae e'en to morn--
I'm sure it's winter fairly.
Up in the morning's no for me,
Up in the morning early;
When a' the hills are cover'd wi' snaw,
I'm sure it's winter fairly.

* * * * *




XLIV.

THE

YOUNG HIGHLAND ROVER.

Tune--"_Morag. _"

[The Young Highland Rover of this strain is supposed by some to be the
Chevalier, and with more probability by others, to be a Gordon, as the
song was composed in consequence of the poet's visit to "bonnie
Castle-Gordon," in September, 1787. ]


I.

Loud blaw the frosty breezes,
The snaws the mountains cover;
Like winter on me seizes,
Since my young Highland rover
Far wanders nations over.
Where'er he go, where'er he stray.
May Heaven be his warden:
Return him safe to fair Strathspey,
And bonnie Castle-Gordon!

II.

The trees now naked groaning,
Shall Soon wi' leaves be hinging.
The birdies dowie moaning,
Shall a' be blithely singing,
And every flower be springing.
Sae I'll rejoice the lee-lang day
When by his mighty Warden
My youth's returned to fair Strathspey,
And bonnie Castle-Gordon.

* * * * *




XLV.

HEY, THE DUSTY MILLER

Tune--"_The Dusty Miller.