No More Learning

II.

By my love so ill requited;
By the faith you fondly plighted;
By the pangs of lovers slighted;
Do not, do not leave me so!
Do not, do not leave me so!

* * * * *




XL.

THICKEST NIGHT, O'ERHANG MY DWELLING.

Tune--"_Strathallan's Lament. _"

[The Viscount Strathallan, whom this song commemorates, was William
Drummond: he was slain at the carnage of Culloden. It was long
believed that he escaped to France and died in exile. ]


I.

Thickest night, surround my dwelling!
Howling tempests, o'er me rave!
Turbid torrents, wintry swelling,
Roaring by my lonely cave!

II.

Crystal streamlets gently flowing,
Busy haunts of base mankind,
Western breezes softly blowing,
Suit not my distracted mind.

III.
In the cause of Right engaged,
Wrongs injurious to redress,
Honour's war we strongly waged,
But the heavens denied success.

IV.

Ruin's wheel has driven o'er us,
Not a hope that dare attend,
The wild world is all before us--
But a world without a friend.

* * * * *




XLI.

MY HOGGIE.

Tune--"_What will I do gin my Hoggie die? _"

[Burns was struck with the pastoral wildness of this Liddesdale air,
and wrote these words to it for the Museum: the first line only is
old. ]


What will I do gin my Hoggie die?
My joy, my pride, my Hoggie!
My only beast, I had nae mae,
And vow but I was vogie!
The lee-lang night we watch'd the fauld,
Me and my faithfu' doggie;
We heard nought but the roaring linn,
Amang the braes sae scroggie;
But the houlet cry'd frae the castle wa',
The blitter frae the boggie,
The tod reply'd upon the hill,
I trembled for my Hoggie.
When day did daw, and cocks did craw,
The morning it was foggie;
An' unco tyke lap o'er the dyke,
And maist has kill'd my Hoggie.

* * * * *




XLII.

HER DADDIE FORBAD.

Tune--"_Jumpin' John. _"

[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.