Ance mair I hail thee, thou gloomy
December!
Robert Burns
Lewis
Hay, one of the wisest, and, it is said, the wittiest of all the
poet's lady correspondents. Burns, in the note in which he
communicated it to Johnson, said he had a strong private reason for
wishing it to appear in the second volume of the Museum. ]
I.
My Peggy's face, my Peggy's form,
The frost of hermit age might warm;
My Peggy's worth, my Peggy's mind,
Might charm the first of human kind.
I love my Peggy's angel air,
Her face so truly, heav'nly fair,
Her native grace so void of art,
But I adore my Peggy's heart.
II.
The lily's hue, the rose's dye,
The kindling lustre of an eye;
Who but owns their magic sway?
Who but knows they all decay!
The tender thrill, the pitying tear,
The gen'rous purpose, nobly dear,
The gentle look, that rage disarms--
These are all immortal charms.
* * * * *
CLXXIV.
GLOOMY DECEMBER.
Tune--"_Wandering Willie. _"
[These verses were, it is said, inspired by Clarinda, and must be
taken as a record of his feelings at parting with one dear to him in
the last moment of existence--the Mrs. Mac of many a toast, both in
serious and festive hours. ]
I.
Ance mair I hail thee, thou gloomy December!
Ance mair I hail thee wi' sorrow and care:
Sad was the parting thou makes me remember,
Parting wi' Nancy, oh! ne'er to meet mair.
Fond lovers' parting is sweet painful pleasure,
Hope beaming mild on the soft parting hour;
But the dire feeling, O farewell for ever!
Is anguish unmingled, and agony pure.
II.
Wild as the winter now tearing the forest,
'Till the last leaf o' the summer is flown,
Such is the tempest has shaken my bosom,
Since my last hope and last comfort is gone!
Still as I hail thee, thou gloomy December,
Still shall I hail thee wi' sorrow and care;
For sad was the parting thou makes me remember,
Parting wi' Nancy, oh! ne'er to meet mair.
* * * * *
CLXXV.
MY LADY'S GOWN, THERE'S GAIRS UPON'T.
Tune--"_Gregg's Pipes. _"
[Most of this song is from the pen of Burns: he corrected the
improprieties, and infused some of his own lyric genius into the old
strain, and printed the result in the Museum. ]
I.
My lady's gown, there's gairs upon't,
And gowden flowers sae rare upon't;
But Jenny's jimps and jirkinet,
My lord thinks meikle mair upon't.
My lord a-hunting he is gane,
But hounds or hawks wi' him are nane;
By Colin's cottage lies his game,
If Colin's Jenny be at hame.
Hay, one of the wisest, and, it is said, the wittiest of all the
poet's lady correspondents. Burns, in the note in which he
communicated it to Johnson, said he had a strong private reason for
wishing it to appear in the second volume of the Museum. ]
I.
My Peggy's face, my Peggy's form,
The frost of hermit age might warm;
My Peggy's worth, my Peggy's mind,
Might charm the first of human kind.
I love my Peggy's angel air,
Her face so truly, heav'nly fair,
Her native grace so void of art,
But I adore my Peggy's heart.
II.
The lily's hue, the rose's dye,
The kindling lustre of an eye;
Who but owns their magic sway?
Who but knows they all decay!
The tender thrill, the pitying tear,
The gen'rous purpose, nobly dear,
The gentle look, that rage disarms--
These are all immortal charms.
* * * * *
CLXXIV.
GLOOMY DECEMBER.
Tune--"_Wandering Willie. _"
[These verses were, it is said, inspired by Clarinda, and must be
taken as a record of his feelings at parting with one dear to him in
the last moment of existence--the Mrs. Mac of many a toast, both in
serious and festive hours. ]
I.
Ance mair I hail thee, thou gloomy December!
Ance mair I hail thee wi' sorrow and care:
Sad was the parting thou makes me remember,
Parting wi' Nancy, oh! ne'er to meet mair.
Fond lovers' parting is sweet painful pleasure,
Hope beaming mild on the soft parting hour;
But the dire feeling, O farewell for ever!
Is anguish unmingled, and agony pure.
II.
Wild as the winter now tearing the forest,
'Till the last leaf o' the summer is flown,
Such is the tempest has shaken my bosom,
Since my last hope and last comfort is gone!
Still as I hail thee, thou gloomy December,
Still shall I hail thee wi' sorrow and care;
For sad was the parting thou makes me remember,
Parting wi' Nancy, oh! ne'er to meet mair.
* * * * *
CLXXV.
MY LADY'S GOWN, THERE'S GAIRS UPON'T.
Tune--"_Gregg's Pipes. _"
[Most of this song is from the pen of Burns: he corrected the
improprieties, and infused some of his own lyric genius into the old
strain, and printed the result in the Museum. ]
I.
My lady's gown, there's gairs upon't,
And gowden flowers sae rare upon't;
But Jenny's jimps and jirkinet,
My lord thinks meikle mair upon't.
My lord a-hunting he is gane,
But hounds or hawks wi' him are nane;
By Colin's cottage lies his game,
If Colin's Jenny be at hame.
