Then mounted Mirth, on gleesome wing,
O'er hill and dale she flew, man;
Ilk wimpling burn, ilk crystal spring,
Ilk glen and shaw she knew, man:
She summon'd every social sprite
That sports by wood or water,
On th' bonny banks of Ayr to meet,
And keep this Fete Champetre.
O'er hill and dale she flew, man;
Ilk wimpling burn, ilk crystal spring,
Ilk glen and shaw she knew, man:
She summon'd every social sprite
That sports by wood or water,
On th' bonny banks of Ayr to meet,
And keep this Fete Champetre.
Robert Burns
_"
[Written to introduce the name of Cunninghame, of Enterkin, to the
public. Tents were erected on the banks of Ayr, decorated with shrubs,
and strewn with flowers, most of the names of note in the district
were invited, and a splendid entertainment took place; but no
dissolution of parliament followed as was expected, and the Lord of
Enterkin, who was desirous of a seat among the "Commons," poured out
his wine in vain. ]
I.
O wha will to Saint Stephen's house,
To do our errands there, man?
O wha will to Saint Stephen's house,
O' th' merry lads of Ayr, man?
Or will we send a man-o'-law?
Or will we send a sodger?
Or him wha led o'er Scotland a'
The meikle Ursa-Major?
II.
Come, will ye court a noble lord,
Or buy a score o' lairds, man?
For worth and honour pawn their word,
Their vote shall be Glencaird's, man?
Ane gies them coin, ane gies them wine,
Anither gies them clatter;
Anbank, wha guess'd the ladies' taste,
He gies a Fete Champetre.
III.
When Love and Beauty heard the news,
The gay green-woods amang, man;
Where gathering flowers and busking bowers,
They heard the blackbird's sang, man;
A vow, they seal'd it with a kiss,
Sir Politicks to fetter,
As theirs alone, the patent-bliss
To hold a Fete Champetre.
IV.
Then mounted Mirth, on gleesome wing,
O'er hill and dale she flew, man;
Ilk wimpling burn, ilk crystal spring,
Ilk glen and shaw she knew, man:
She summon'd every social sprite
That sports by wood or water,
On th' bonny banks of Ayr to meet,
And keep this Fete Champetre.
V.
Cauld Boreas, wi' his boisterous crew,
Were bound to stakes like kye, man;
And Cynthia's car, o' silver fu',
Clamb up the starry sky, man:
Reflected beams dwell in the streams,
Or down the current shatter;
The western breeze steals thro' the trees,
To view this Fete Champetre.
VI.
How many a robe sae gaily floats!
What sparkling jewels glance, man!
To Harmony's enchanting notes,
As moves the mazy dance, man.
The echoing wood, the winding flood,
Like Paradise did glitter,
When angels met, at Adam's yett,
To hold their Fete Champetre.
VII.
When Politics came there, to mix
And make his ether-stane, man!
He circled round the magic ground,
But entrance found he nane, man:
He blush'd for shame, he quat his name,
Forswore it, every letter,
Wi' humble prayer to join and share
This festive Fete Champetre.
* * * * *
CCXLIII.
HERE'S A HEALTH.
Tune--"_Here's a health to them that's awa. _"
[The Charlie of this song was Charles Fox; Tammie was Lord Erskine;
and M'Leod, the maiden name of the Countess of Loudon, was then, as
now, a name of influence both in the Highlands and Lowlands. The buff
and blue of the Whigs had triumphed over the white rose of Jacobitism
in the heart of Burns, when he wrote these verses.
[Written to introduce the name of Cunninghame, of Enterkin, to the
public. Tents were erected on the banks of Ayr, decorated with shrubs,
and strewn with flowers, most of the names of note in the district
were invited, and a splendid entertainment took place; but no
dissolution of parliament followed as was expected, and the Lord of
Enterkin, who was desirous of a seat among the "Commons," poured out
his wine in vain. ]
I.
O wha will to Saint Stephen's house,
To do our errands there, man?
O wha will to Saint Stephen's house,
O' th' merry lads of Ayr, man?
Or will we send a man-o'-law?
Or will we send a sodger?
Or him wha led o'er Scotland a'
The meikle Ursa-Major?
II.
Come, will ye court a noble lord,
Or buy a score o' lairds, man?
For worth and honour pawn their word,
Their vote shall be Glencaird's, man?
Ane gies them coin, ane gies them wine,
Anither gies them clatter;
Anbank, wha guess'd the ladies' taste,
He gies a Fete Champetre.
III.
When Love and Beauty heard the news,
The gay green-woods amang, man;
Where gathering flowers and busking bowers,
They heard the blackbird's sang, man;
A vow, they seal'd it with a kiss,
Sir Politicks to fetter,
As theirs alone, the patent-bliss
To hold a Fete Champetre.
IV.
Then mounted Mirth, on gleesome wing,
O'er hill and dale she flew, man;
Ilk wimpling burn, ilk crystal spring,
Ilk glen and shaw she knew, man:
She summon'd every social sprite
That sports by wood or water,
On th' bonny banks of Ayr to meet,
And keep this Fete Champetre.
V.
Cauld Boreas, wi' his boisterous crew,
Were bound to stakes like kye, man;
And Cynthia's car, o' silver fu',
Clamb up the starry sky, man:
Reflected beams dwell in the streams,
Or down the current shatter;
The western breeze steals thro' the trees,
To view this Fete Champetre.
VI.
How many a robe sae gaily floats!
What sparkling jewels glance, man!
To Harmony's enchanting notes,
As moves the mazy dance, man.
The echoing wood, the winding flood,
Like Paradise did glitter,
When angels met, at Adam's yett,
To hold their Fete Champetre.
VII.
When Politics came there, to mix
And make his ether-stane, man!
He circled round the magic ground,
But entrance found he nane, man:
He blush'd for shame, he quat his name,
Forswore it, every letter,
Wi' humble prayer to join and share
This festive Fete Champetre.
* * * * *
CCXLIII.
HERE'S A HEALTH.
Tune--"_Here's a health to them that's awa. _"
[The Charlie of this song was Charles Fox; Tammie was Lord Erskine;
and M'Leod, the maiden name of the Countess of Loudon, was then, as
now, a name of influence both in the Highlands and Lowlands. The buff
and blue of the Whigs had triumphed over the white rose of Jacobitism
in the heart of Burns, when he wrote these verses.
