No More Learning

IV.

He hirples twa fauld as he dow,
Wi' his teethless gab and Ma auld beld pow,
And the rain rains down frae his red bleer'd ee--
That auld man shall never daunton me.
To daunton me, and me sae young,
Wi' his fause heart and flatt'ring tongue,
That is the thing you ne'er shall see;
For an auld man shall never daunton me.

* * * * *




LVII.

COME BOAT ME O'ER TO CHARLIE.

Tune--"_O'er the water to Charlie. _"

[The second stanza of this song, and nearly all the third, are by
Burns. Many songs, some of merit, on the same subject, and to the same
air, were in other days current in Scotland. ]


I.

Come boat me o'er, come row me o'er,
Come boat me o'er to Charlie;
I'll gie John Ross another bawbee,
To boat me o'er to Charlie.
We'll o'er the water and o'er the sea,
We'll o'er the water to Charlie;
Come weal, come woe, we'll gather and go,
And live or die wi' Charlie.

II.

I lo'e weel my Charlie's name,
Tho' some there be abhor him:
But O, to see auld Nick gaun hame,
And Charlie's faes before him!

III.

I swear and vow by moon and stars,
And sun that shines so early,
If I had twenty thousand lives,
I'd die as aft for Charlie.
We'll o'er the water and o'er the sea,
We'll o'er the water to Charlie;
Come weal, come woe, we'll gather and go,
And live or die wi' Charlie!

* * * * *




LVIII.

A ROSE-BUD BY MY EARLY WALK.

Tune--"_The Rose-bud. _"

[The "Rose-bud" of these sweet verses was Miss Jean Cruikshank,
afterwards Mrs. Henderson, daughter of William Cruikshank, of St.
James's Square, one of the masters of the High School of Edinburgh:
she is also the subject of a poem equally sweet. ]


I.

A rose-bud by my early walk,
Adown a corn-enclosed bawk,
Sae gently bent its thorny stalk,
All on a dewy morning.
Ere twice the shades o' dawn are fled,
In a' its crimson glory spread,
And drooping rich the dewy head,
It scents the early morning.

II.

Within the bush, her covert nest
A little linnet fondly prest,
The dew sat chilly on her breast
Sae early in the morning.
She soon shall see her tender brood,
The pride, the pleasure o' the wood,
Amang the fresh green leaves bedew'd,
Awake the early morning.

III.

So thou, dear bird, young Jeany fair,
On trembling string or vocal air,
Shall sweetly pay the tender care
That tends thy early morning.
So thou, sweet rose-bud, young and gay,
Shalt beauteous blaze upon the day,
And bless the parent's evening ray
That watch'd thy early morning.