[Written for Thomson's collection: the first version which he wrote
was not happy in its harmony: Burns altered and corrected it as it now
stands, and then said, "I do not know if this song be really mended.
was not happy in its harmony: Burns altered and corrected it as it now
stands, and then said, "I do not know if this song be really mended.
Robert Burns
WANDERING WILLIE.
[LAST VERSION. ]
[This is the "Wandering Willie" as altered by Erskine and Thomson, and
approved by Burns, after rejecting several of their emendations. The
changes were made chiefly with the view of harmonizing the words with
the music--an Italian mode of mending the harmony of the human voice. ]
I.
Here awa, there awa, wandering Willie,
Here awa, there awa, haud awa hame;
Come to my bosom, my ain only dearie,
Tell me thou bring'st me my Willie the same.
II.
Winter winds blew loud and cauld at our parting,
Fears for my Willie brought tears in my e'e;
Welcome now simmer, and welcome my Willie,
The simmer to nature, my Willie to me.
III.
Rest, ye wild storms, in the cave of your slumbers,
How your dread howling a lover alarms!
Wauken, ye breezes, row gently, ye billows,
And waft my dear laddie ance mair to my arms.
IV.
But oh, if he's faithless, and minds na his Nannie,
Flow still between us, thou wide roaring main;
May I never see it, may I never trow it,
But, dying, believe that my Willie's my ain.
* * * * *
CXCI.
OPEN THE DOOR TO ME, OH!
[Written for Thomson's collection: the first version which he wrote
was not happy in its harmony: Burns altered and corrected it as it now
stands, and then said, "I do not know if this song be really mended. "]
I.
Oh, open the door, some pity to show,
Oh, open the door to me, Oh! [139]
Tho' thou has been false, I'll ever prove true,
Oh, open the door to me, Oh!
II.
Cauld is the blast upon my pale cheek,
But caulder thy love for me, Oh!
The frost that freezes the life at my heart,
Is nought to my pains frae thee, Oh!
III.
The wan moon is setting behind the white wave,
And time is setting with me, Oh!
False friends, false love, farewell! for mair
I'll ne'er trouble them, nor thee, Oh!
IV.
She has open'd the door, she has open'd it wide;
She sees his pale corse on the plain, Oh!
My true love! she cried, and sank down by his side,
Never to rise again, Oh!
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 139: This second line was originally--"If love it may na be,
Oh!
