There's
somebody
weary wi' lying her lane;
There's somebody weary wi' lying her lane;
There's some that are dowie, I trow would be fain
To see the bit tailor come skippin' again.
There's somebody weary wi' lying her lane;
There's some that are dowie, I trow would be fain
To see the bit tailor come skippin' again.
Robert Burns
Then I might see the joyfu' sight,
My Highland Harry back again.
O for him back again!
O for him back again!
I wad gie a' Knockhaspie's land
For Highland Harry back again.
* * * * *
LXIV.
THE TAILOR.
Tune--"_The Tailor fell thro' the bed, thimbles an' a'. _"
[The second and fourth verses are by Burns, the rest is very old, the
air is also very old, and is played at trade festivals and processions
by the Corporation of Tailors. ]
I.
The Tailor fell thro' the bed, thimbles an' a',
The Tailor fell thro' the bed, thimbles an' a';
The blankets were thin, and the sheets they were sma',
The Tailor fell thro' the bed, thimbles an' a'.
II.
The sleepy bit lassie, she dreaded nae ill,
The sleepy bit lassie, she dreaded nae ill;
The weather was cauld, and the lassie lay still,
She thought that a tailor could do her nae ill.
III.
Gie me the groat again, canny young man;
Gie me the groat again, canny young man;
The day it is short, and the night it is lang,
The dearest siller that ever I wan!
IV.
There's somebody weary wi' lying her lane;
There's somebody weary wi' lying her lane;
There's some that are dowie, I trow would be fain
To see the bit tailor come skippin' again.
* * * * *
LXV.
SIMMER'S A PLEASANT TIME.
Tune--"_Ay waukin o'. _"
[Tytler and Ritson unite in considering the air of these words as one
of our most ancient melodies. The first verse of the song is from the
hand of Burns; the rest had the benefit of his emendations: it is to
be found in the Museum. ]
I.
Simmer's a pleasant time,
Flow'rs of ev'ry colour;
The water rins o'er the heugh,
And I long for my true lover.
Ay waukin O,
Waukin still and wearie:
Sleep I can get nane
For thinking on my dearie.
II.
When I sleep I dream,
When I wauk I'm eerie;
Sleep I can get nane
For thinking on my dearie.
III.
Lanely night comes on,
A' the lave are sleeping;
I think on my bonnie lad
And I bleer my een with greetin'.
Ay waukin O,
Waukin still and wearie:
Sleep I can get nane
For thinking on my dearie.
* * * * *
LXVI.
BEWARE O' BONNIE ANN.