RATTLIN ROARING WILLIE. O rattlin roarin Willie, O he held to the fair, And buy some other ware; The saut tear blin't his ee; Ye're welcome hame to me. O Willie, come sell your fiddle, The warl' wad think I was mad; For mony a ranting day My fiddle and I hae had. As I cam in by Crochallan, Was sitting at yon boord-en'; And amang gude companie; Ye're welcome hame to me. [This song owes its preservation to Burns, who added the last verse in compliment to a friend of his, Colonel William Dunbar, "one of the worthiest fellows in the world." It was first printed in Johnson's Musical Museum, Part II. 1788. VOL. II. C Mr. Allan Cunningham added the following stanza in his collec. tion of Scottish Songs-it is most likely his own composition I made my gallant fiddle Of our repentance stool; The lasses went wild wi' laughing, Has wagg'd to it wantonlie; Hogg has also written a song carrying on the same sentiment.] MONTGOMERY'S MISTRESS. ALEXANDER MONTGOMERY. O nature lavished on my love It is a glad thing to sad eyes In which the lily springs; While she looks through her clustering hair That o'er her temples hings, I'd stand and look on my true love Like one grown to the ground;- Her looks are like the May-day dawn With bright and amorous beams. She walks-the blushing brook-rose seems She sings-the lark that hearkens her For from her eyes there streams such light, Her vestal breast of ivorie, Shows with its twin-born swelling wreaths, While through her skin her sapphire veins And tremble with her honey breath Her arms are long, her shoulders broad, The mold was lost that made my love, [This is a very free and very beautiful modernization, if I may use such a word, of a song robed in the garb of antiquity, by Allan Cunningham. Specimens of Montgomery's own songs will be found in the Preface to this volume. See Laing's Edition of Montgomery's Poems, p. 208.] MONTGOMERY'S MATCHLESS MARGARET. ALEXANDER MONTGOMERY. Ye lovers leal forbear to style And they maun hope to shine nae mair. Her better nature far excels Her noble birth and royal blood; Mair sweet than roses newly wet And wander'd till my locks were wet words see Laing's Edition of Montgomery's Poems, p. 161.] [A modernized version by Allan Cunningham. For the original WHILE WITH HER WHITE AND NIMBLE HANDS. ALEXANDER MONTGOMERY. While with her white and nimble hands Of lilies white, and violets, Thou sun, now shining bright above, Hast felt, as poets feign: If thou her fairness will not burn And close her sparkling eyes;- [Modernized by Allan Cunningham.] |