Page:The Book of Scottish Song.djvu/464

446 A long adieu! but where shall fly

Thy widow all forlorn,

When every mean and cruel eye

Regards my woe with scorn?

Yes! they will mock thy widow's tears,

And hate thine orphan boy:

Alas! his infant beauty wears

The form of Gilderoy.

Then will I seek the dreary mound

That wraps thy mouldering clay,

And weep and linger on the ground,

And sigh my heart away.

[ of Bangour.—This is published in the Orpheus Caledonius, 1725, adapted to the old air called "Hallowe'en."]

hangs that cloud upon thy brow,

That beauteous heav'n erewhile serene?

Whence do these storms and tempests blow?

Or what this gust of passion mean?

And must then mankind lose that light

Which in thine eyes was wont to shine,

And lie obscur'd in endless night,

For each poor silly speech of mine?

Dear child, how could I wrong thy name?

Thy form so fair and faultless stands,

That could ill tongues abuse thy fame,

Thy beauty would make large amends!

Or if I durst profanely try

Thy beauty's powerful charms t' upbraid,

Thy virtue well might give the lie,

Nor call thy beauty to its aid.

For Venus ev'ry heart ensnare,

With all her charms has deck'd thy face,

And Pallas with unusual care,

Bids wisdom heighten every grace.

Who can the double pain endure?

Or who must not resign the field

To thee, celestial maid, secure

With Cupid's bow and Pallas' shield?

If then to thee such power is giv'n,

Let not a wretch in torment live,

But smile, and learn to copy heav'n,

Since we must sin ere it forgive.

Yet pitying heav'n not only does

Forgive th' offender and th' offence,

But even itself appeas'd bestows

As the reward of penitence.

[ air called "Johnnie's Grey Breeks" is one of the most beautiful in the whole range of Scottish melody, and yet nothing is known of its history. It is given in Oswald's collection, 1742, both according to the original way, in triple time, and also in common time, the latter supposed to be done by Oswald himself. Burns says, "Though it has certainly every evidence of being a Scottish air, yet there is a well-known tune in the north of Ireland, called 'The Weaver and his Shuttle, O,' which, though sung much quicker, is every note the very tune." The old Scotch song of "Johnnie's Grey Breeks" is, however, much older than "The Weaver and his Shuttle, O," and the latter must therefore have borrowed the air from the former. We cannot give the original version of the song, some of which might be considered rather coarse for "modern ears polite," but we give a modified set of it, which is still of considerable antiquity, and used to be popular at our country firesides. In Johnson's Museum, another set of words is given to the same tune, beginning,

which Burns pronounces to be execrable—and certainly the song is not worth quoting.]

I was in my se'nteen year,

I was baith blythe and bonnie, O;

The lads lo'ed me baith far and near,

But I lo'ed nane but Johnnie, O:

He gain'd my heart in twa three weeks,

He spake sae blythe and kindly, O;

And I made him new grey breeks,

That fitted him most finely, O.

He was a handsome fellow:

His humour was baith frank and free;

His bonnie locks sae yellow,

Like gowd they glitter'd in my e'e: