No More Learning

Another "Highland Laddie," also in the "Museum," vol. v. , is the tune
of several Jacobite fragments. One of these old songs to it, only
exists, as far as I know, in these four lines--

"Where hae ye been a' day,
Bonie laddie, Highland laddie?
Down the back o' Bell's brae,
Courtin Maggie, courtin Maggie. "

Another of this name is Dr. Arne's beautiful air, called the new
"Highland Laddie. "

* * * * *


THE GENTLE SWAIN.

To sing such a beautiful air to such execrable verses, is downright
prostitution of common sense! The Scots verses indeed are tolerable.

* * * * *


HE STOLE MY TENDER HEART AWAY.

This is an Anglo-Scottish production, but by no means a bad one.

* * * * *


FAIREST OF THE FAIR.

It is too barefaced to take Dr. Percy's charming song, and by means of
transposing a few English words into Scots, to offer to pass it for a
Scots song.
--I was not acquainted with the editor until the first
volume was nearly finished, else, had I known in time, I would have
prevented such an impudent absurdity.

* * * * *


THE BLAITHRIE O'T.

The following is a set of this song, which was the earliest song I
remember to have got by heart. When a child, an old woman sung it to
me, and I picked it up, every word, at first hearing.

"O Willy, weel I mind, I lent you my hand
To sing you a song which you did me command;
But my memory's so bad I had almost forgot
That you called it the gear and the blaithrie o't. --

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.