No More Learning

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.

* * * * *




LIX.

RATTLIN', ROARIN' WILLIE.

Tune--"_Rattlin', roarin' Willie. _"

["The hero of this chant," says Burns "was one of the worthiest
fellows in the world--William Dunbar, Esq. , Write to the Signet,
Edinburgh, and Colonel of the Crochallan corps--a club of wits, who
took that title at the time of raising the fencible regiments. "]


I.

O rattlin', roarin' Willie,
O, he held to the fair,
An' for to sell his fiddle,
An' buy some other ware;
But parting wi' his fiddle,
The saut tear blint his ee;
And rattlin', roarin' Willie,
Ye're welcome hame to me!

II.

O Willie, come sell your fiddle,
O sell your fiddle sae fine;
O Willie, come sell your fiddle,
And buy a pint o' wine!