AULD ROB MORRIS. From the "Tea-Table Miscellany." Air-"Jock's the laird's brither." MOTHER. AULD Rob Morris, that wons in yon glen, He's the king o' guid fallows, and wale o' auld men ; DAUGHTER. Haud your tongue, mother, and let that abee; MOTHER. Haud your tongue, dochter, and lay by your pride, DAUGHTER. Auld Rob Morris, I ken him fu' weel, He's out-shinn'd, in-knee'd, and ringle-eyed too; MOTHER. Though Auld Rob Morris be an elderly man, DAUGHTER. But auld Rob Morris I never will hae, His back is so stiff and his beard is grown gray; I had rather die than live wi' him a year, Sae mair o' Rob Morris I never will hear. This song appears in the "Tea-Table Miscellany" with the signature of Q, signifying it to be an old song modernised by Ramsay. Burns has written a love song with the same title, in which he has preserved the first two lines, and some other portions of the above. THE BLAITHRIE O'T. From the "Charmer," 1749, but known to be much older. WHEN I think on this warld's pelf, And the little wee share I hae o't to myself, And how the lass that wants it is by the lads forgot ;- Jockie was the laddie that held the pleugh, But now he's got gowd and gear enough; He thinks nae mair o' me that wears the plaiden coat ;May the shame fa' the gear and the blaithrie o't! Jennie was the lassie that muck'd the byre, But now she is clad in her silken attire; And Jockie says he lo'es her, and swears he's me forgot ;May the shame fa' the gear and the blaithrie o't! But all this shall never daunton me, Sae lang as I keep my fancy free; For the lad that's sae inconstant he is not worth a groat ;May the shame fa' the gear and the blaithrie o't! SECOND VERSION. WHEN I think on this warld's pelf, And how little o't I hae to myself, I sich and look down on my threadbare coat ;- Johnnie was the lad that held the pleuch, But now he has gowd and gear eneuch; I mind weil the day when he was na worth a groat ;- Jenny was the lassie that muckit the byre, Yet a' this shall never daunton me, Sae lang as I keep my fancy free; While I've but a penny to pay the t'other pot, THIRD VERSION. O WILLY, Weel I mind, I lent you my hand I'll not sing about confusion, delusion, or pride, Though my lassie hae nae scarlets or silks to put on, Though we hae nae horses or menzie at command, If we hae ony babies, we'll count them as lent; Hae we less, hae we mair, we will aye be content; For they say they hae mair pleasure that wins but a groat, I'll not meddle wi' th' affairs o' the kirk or the queen; "The above is a set of this song," says Burns, "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." BURNS. Air-" Cold and raw," or "Up in the mornin' early." CAULD blaws the wind frae east to west, The drift is driving sairly; Sae loud and shrill's I hear the blast, I'm sure it's winter fairly. Up in the mornin's no for me, Up in the mornin' early; When a' the hills are cover'd wi' snaw, The birds sit chittering in the thorn, And lang's the night frae e'en to morn I'm sure it's winter fairly. Up in the mornin's no for me, Up in the mornin' early; When a' the hills are cover'd wi' snaw, I'm sure it's winter fairly. *The chorus of this song is old, and with the melody forms one of the earliest specimens of Scottish poetry and music. The rest of the song is founded by Burns upon the original lyric, of which it is a striking improvement. A convivial song with the same title, but in no other respect resembling it, appears in another part of this collection. CAULD blaws the wind frae north to south, The sheep are cowrin' i' the heuch; Now up in the mornin's no for me, I'd rather gae supperless to my bed Loud roars the blast amang the woods, To sit a' nicht wad better agree The sun peeps owre yon southland hills Just blinks a wee, then sinks again; Now up in the mornin's no for me, When snaw blaws in at the chimley-cheek, Nae linties lilt on hedge or bush,— A pennyless purse I wad rather dree A cosie house and canty wife Aye keep a body cheerly; And pantries stow'd wi' meat and drink, They answer unco rarely. |