Page:The Book of Scottish Song.djvu/446

428 I'll wear the gloamin' o' my days

Whare life's career began,

And breathe the latest breath o' life

Just whare the first was drawn.

In Coldstream toon wi' Coldstream folk,

A cozzie beild I'll ha'e,

And fight the battles owre again

I fought whan far away.

[ impassioned lyric was written by at a time when his "Clarinda" (Agnes M'Lehose) contemplated going to the West Indies. "The following exquisitely affecting stanza," says Sir Walter Scott, "contains the essence of a thousand love-tales:

Byron adopted these lines as the motto to "The Bride of Abydos." Burns directed the song to be set in Johnson's Museum to an old Highland tune called "Rory Dall's Port." Rory Dall, or Roderick Morison, was a noted blind harper in the Highlands. Port, in Gaelic, signifies an air of a plaintive strain.]

fond kiss, and then we sever;

Ae farewell, alas! for ever!

Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,

Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.

Who shall say that fortune grieves him

While the star of hope she leaves him?

Me, nae cheerfu' twinkle lights me;

Dark despair around benights me.

I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy,

Naething could resist my Nancy;

But to see her, was to love her;

Love but her, and love for ever.

Had we never loved sae kindly,

Had we never loved sae blindly,

Never met—or never parted,

We had ne'er been broken-hearted.

Fare thee weel, thou first and fairest!

Fare thee weel, thou best and dearest!

Thine be ilka joy and treasure,

Peace, enjoyment, love, and pleasure!

Ae fond kiss, and then we sever;

Ae farewell, alas! for ever!

Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,

Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.

[.]

, hey! Johnnie lad,

Ye're no sae kind's ye should ha'e been;

Och, hey! Johnnie lad,

Ye didna keep your tryst yestreen.

I waited lang beside the wood,

Sae wae and weary a' my lane,

Och, hey! Johnnie lad,

Ye're no sae kind's ye should ha'e been.

I looked by the whinny knowe,

I looked by the firs sae green,

I looked owre the spunkie howe,

And aye I thought ye wad ha'e been.

The ne'er a supper cross'd my craig,

The ne'er a sleep has closed my een,

Och, hey! Johnnie lad,

Ye're no sae kind's ye should ha'e been.

Gin ye were waiting by the wood,

Then I was waiting by the thorn,

I thought it was the place we set,

And waited maist till dawning morn.

Sae be na vex'd, my bonnie lassie,

Let my waiting stand for thine,

We'll awa' to Craigton shaw,

And seek the joys we tint yestreen.

[ by for Johnson's Museum, where it appears set to two different Gaelic airs. "Robina," not "Eliza," was the real name of the heroine.]

again, thou fair Eliza!

Ae kind blink before we part,

Rue on thy despairing lover!

Canst thou break his faithfu' heart?

Turn again, thou fair Eliza!

If to love thy heart denies,

For pity, hide the cruel sentence

Under friendship's kind disguise!