Page:The Book of Scottish Song.djvu/404

386

[ first stanza of this song belongs to an old licentious ditty: the other verses are by. The tune is called "Wat ye wha I met yestreen?" and sometimes "The Tartan Screen." "The old town of Edinburgh," says Mr. Robert Chambers, "now so degraded, but formerly a place of the highest fashion, is the locality of this fine song, of which the first verse contains a picture of certain customs which obtained a century ago in the capital of Scotland, but are now totally forgotten by all except the antiquary. A young country gentleman, walking up the High Street in the evening, encounters his mistress, no doubt a young lady of good birth as well as breeding, and recognises her even umler the tartan garment, then used by all sorts of women as a veil, and against which, as affording peculiar facilities for intrigue, the whole vengeance of the town-council and the kirk-session had been directed in vain. He solicits her to walk with him up to the hill—the abbreviated popular phrase for the esplanade in front of Edinburgh castle, which was then the only promenade at the command of the citizens, and a favourite place among lovers for nocturnal assignations. In their walk along the Castle Hill, he takes advantage of the situation to depict the delights of a summer residence in the country, which, in all its poetical and sunshine beauty, may be supposed to have contrasted strongly with the darksomeness and din of the city beneath, and therefore to have disposed the young lady very favourably to his suit. It is quite as remarkable as it is true, that the mode of courtship among people of the middle ranks in Edinburgh has undergone a complete change in the course of no more than the last thirty years. It used to be customary for lovers to walk together for hours, both during the day and the evening, in the Meadows, or the King's Park, or the fields now occupied by the New Town; practices now only known to artizans and serving girls. The song appeared in the Tea-Table Miscellany, 1724."]

wat ye wha I met yestreen,

Coming down the street, my joe?

My mistress, in her tartan screen,

Fu' bonnie, braw, and sweet, my joe!

My dear, quoth I, thanks to the nicht

That never wiss'd a lover ill,

Sin' ye're out o' your mither's sicht,

Let's tak' a walk up to the hill.

Oh, Katie, wilt thou gang wi' me,

And leave the dinsome toun a while?

The blossom's sprouting frae the tree,

And a' creation's gaun to smile.

The mavis, nichtingale, and lark,

The bleating lambs and whistling hynd,

In ilka dale, green shaw, and park,

Will nourish health, and glad your mind.

Sune as the clear gudeman o' day

Does bend his morning draught o' dew,

We'll gae to some burn-side and play,

And gather flouirs to busk your brow.

We'll pou the daisies on the green,

The lucken-gowans frae the bog;

Between hands, now and then, we'll lean

And sport upon the velvet fog.

There 's, up into a pleasant glen,

A wee piece frae my father's tower,

A canny, saft, and flowery den,

Which circling birks have form'd a bower.

Whene'er the sun grows high and warm,

We'll to the caller shade remove;

There will I lock thee in my arm,

And love and kiss, and kiss and love.

[ also by, and published in the Tea-Table Miscellany, 1724. The tune is called "A health to Betty."]

mother's aye glowrin' ower me,

Though she did the same before me;

I canna get leave

To look at my love,

Or else she'd be like to devour me.

Right fain wad I tak' your offer,

Sweet sir—but I'll tyne my tocher;

Then, Sandy, ye'll fret,

And wyte your puir Kate,

Whene'er ye keek in your toom coffer.