Tytler of Woodhouselee, the worthy and able defender of
the beauteous Queen of Scots, told me that the songs marked C, in the
_Tea-table_, were the composition of a Mr.
the beauteous Queen of Scots, told me that the songs marked C, in the
_Tea-table_, were the composition of a Mr.
Robert Burns
--
I'll not sing about confusion, delusion or pride,
I'll sing about a laddie was for a virtuous bride;
For virtue is an ornament that time will never rot,
And preferable to gear and the blaithrie o't. --
Tho' my lassie hae nae scarlets or silks to put on,
We envy not the greatest that sits upon the throne;
I wad rather hae my lassie, tho' she cam in her smock,
Than a princess wi' the gear and the blaithrie o't. --
Tho' we hae nae horses or menzies at command,
We will toil on our foot, and we'll work wi' our hand;
And when wearied without rest, we'll find it sweet in any spot,
And we'll value not the gear and the blaithrie o't. --
If we hae ony babies, we'll count them as lent;
Hae we less, hae we mair, we will ay be content;
For they say they hae mair pleasure that wins bu groat,
Than the miser wi' his gear and the blaithrie o't--
I'll not meddle wi' th' affairs of the kirk or the queen;
They're nae matters for a sang, let them sink, let them swim;
On your kirk I'll ne'er encroach, but I'll hold it stil remote,
Sae tak this for the gear and the blaithrie o't. "
* * * * *
MAY EVE, OR KATE OF ABERDEEN.
"Kate of Aberdeen" is, I believe, the work of poor Cunningham the
player; of whom the following anecdote, though told before, deserves a
recital. A fat dignitary of the church coming past Cunningham one
_Sunday_, as the poor poet was busy plying a fishing-rod in some
stream near Durham, his native country, his reverence reprimanded
Cunningham very severely for such an occupation on such a day. The
poor poet, with that inoffensive gentleness of manners which was his
peculiar characteristic, replied, that he hoped God and his reverence
would forgive his seeming profanity of that sacred day, "_as he had no
dinner to eat, but what lay at the bottom of that pool_! " This, Mr.
Woods, the player, who knew Cunningham well, and esteemed him much,
assured me was true.
* * * * *
TWEED SIDE.
In Ramsay's Tea-table Miscellany, he tells us that about thirty of the
songs in that publication were the works of some young gentlemen of
his acquaintance; which songs are marked with the letters D. C.
&c. --Old Mr.
Tytler of Woodhouselee, the worthy and able defender of
the beauteous Queen of Scots, told me that the songs marked C, in the
_Tea-table_, were the composition of a Mr. Crawfurd, of the house of
Achnames, who was afterwards unfortunately drowned coming from
France. --As Tytler was most intimately acquainted with Allan Ramsay, I
think the anecdote may be depended on. Of consequence, the beautiful
song of Tweed Side is Mr. Crawfurd's, and indeed does great honour to
his poetical talents. He was a Robert Crawfurd; the Mary he celebrates
was a Mary Stewart, of the Castle-Milk family, afterwards married to a
Mr. John Ritchie.
I have seen a song, calling itself the original Tweed Side, and said
to have been composed by a Lord Yester. It consisted of two stanzas,
of which I still recollect the first--
"When Maggy and I was acquaint,
I carried my noddle fu' hie;
Nae lintwhite on a' the green plain,
Nor gowdspink sae happy as me:
But I saw her sae fair and I lo'ed:
I woo'd, but I came nae great speed;
So now I maun wander abroad,
And lay my banes far frae the Tweed. "--
* * * * *
THE POSY.
It appears evident to me that Oswald composed his _Roslin Castle_ on
the modulation of this air. --In the second part of Oswald's, in the
three first bars, he has either hit on a wonderful similarity to, or
else he has entirely borrowed the three first bars of the old air; and
the close of both tunes is almost exactly the same. The old verses to
which it was sung, when I took down the notes from a country girl's
voice, had no great merit. --The following is a specimen:
"There was a pretty May, and a milkin she went;
Wi' her red rosy cheeks, and her coal black hair;
And she has met a young man a comin o'er the bent,
With a double and adieu to thee, fair May.
O where are ye goin, my ain pretty May,
Wi' thy red rosy cheeks, and thy coal black hair?
Unto the yowes a milkin, kind sir, she says,
With a double and adieu to thee, fair May.
I'll not sing about confusion, delusion or pride,
I'll sing about a laddie was for a virtuous bride;
For virtue is an ornament that time will never rot,
And preferable to gear and the blaithrie o't. --
Tho' my lassie hae nae scarlets or silks to put on,
We envy not the greatest that sits upon the throne;
I wad rather hae my lassie, tho' she cam in her smock,
Than a princess wi' the gear and the blaithrie o't. --
Tho' we hae nae horses or menzies at command,
We will toil on our foot, and we'll work wi' our hand;
And when wearied without rest, we'll find it sweet in any spot,
And we'll value not the gear and the blaithrie o't. --
If we hae ony babies, we'll count them as lent;
Hae we less, hae we mair, we will ay be content;
For they say they hae mair pleasure that wins bu groat,
Than the miser wi' his gear and the blaithrie o't--
I'll not meddle wi' th' affairs of the kirk or the queen;
They're nae matters for a sang, let them sink, let them swim;
On your kirk I'll ne'er encroach, but I'll hold it stil remote,
Sae tak this for the gear and the blaithrie o't. "
* * * * *
MAY EVE, OR KATE OF ABERDEEN.
"Kate of Aberdeen" is, I believe, the work of poor Cunningham the
player; of whom the following anecdote, though told before, deserves a
recital. A fat dignitary of the church coming past Cunningham one
_Sunday_, as the poor poet was busy plying a fishing-rod in some
stream near Durham, his native country, his reverence reprimanded
Cunningham very severely for such an occupation on such a day. The
poor poet, with that inoffensive gentleness of manners which was his
peculiar characteristic, replied, that he hoped God and his reverence
would forgive his seeming profanity of that sacred day, "_as he had no
dinner to eat, but what lay at the bottom of that pool_! " This, Mr.
Woods, the player, who knew Cunningham well, and esteemed him much,
assured me was true.
* * * * *
TWEED SIDE.
In Ramsay's Tea-table Miscellany, he tells us that about thirty of the
songs in that publication were the works of some young gentlemen of
his acquaintance; which songs are marked with the letters D. C.
&c. --Old Mr.
Tytler of Woodhouselee, the worthy and able defender of
the beauteous Queen of Scots, told me that the songs marked C, in the
_Tea-table_, were the composition of a Mr. Crawfurd, of the house of
Achnames, who was afterwards unfortunately drowned coming from
France. --As Tytler was most intimately acquainted with Allan Ramsay, I
think the anecdote may be depended on. Of consequence, the beautiful
song of Tweed Side is Mr. Crawfurd's, and indeed does great honour to
his poetical talents. He was a Robert Crawfurd; the Mary he celebrates
was a Mary Stewart, of the Castle-Milk family, afterwards married to a
Mr. John Ritchie.
I have seen a song, calling itself the original Tweed Side, and said
to have been composed by a Lord Yester. It consisted of two stanzas,
of which I still recollect the first--
"When Maggy and I was acquaint,
I carried my noddle fu' hie;
Nae lintwhite on a' the green plain,
Nor gowdspink sae happy as me:
But I saw her sae fair and I lo'ed:
I woo'd, but I came nae great speed;
So now I maun wander abroad,
And lay my banes far frae the Tweed. "--
* * * * *
THE POSY.
It appears evident to me that Oswald composed his _Roslin Castle_ on
the modulation of this air. --In the second part of Oswald's, in the
three first bars, he has either hit on a wonderful similarity to, or
else he has entirely borrowed the three first bars of the old air; and
the close of both tunes is almost exactly the same. The old verses to
which it was sung, when I took down the notes from a country girl's
voice, had no great merit. --The following is a specimen:
"There was a pretty May, and a milkin she went;
Wi' her red rosy cheeks, and her coal black hair;
And she has met a young man a comin o'er the bent,
With a double and adieu to thee, fair May.
O where are ye goin, my ain pretty May,
Wi' thy red rosy cheeks, and thy coal black hair?
Unto the yowes a milkin, kind sir, she says,
With a double and adieu to thee, fair May.
