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LOGIE OF BUCHAN.
O Logie of Buchan, its Logie the laird,
Keep up yere heart, lassie, though I'm gaun awa'-
O Sandie has owsen and siller and kye,
My daddie looks sulky, my mother looks sour ;-
[This song is printed with numerous variations ; Burns touched up a copy for the fourth volume of the Museum, and Alan Cunninghan made improvements for his collection of Scottish songs. Mr. Peter Buchan has given the song to a Mr. George Halket of Aberdeen, while popular belief ascribes it to Lady Anne Lindsay.]
GIN LIVING WORTH COULD WIN MY HEART.
Gin living worth could win my heart,
Ye shou’dna sigh in vain ;
Never to rise again.
Whose heart was only mine;
But I maun no repine.
Would grant the boon I crave,
Sin' Jamie's in his grave!
To shew me on my way;
Sair wond'ring at my stay.
And oh! wi' what good will,
Her faded cheek possest,
Her sorrows sunk to rest.
[Fom Johnson's Musical Museum, vol. iii. 1790--and inserted there from a single sheet, printed at London about the year 1788, and sold by Joseph Dale, No. 19, Cornhill, " sung by Master Knyvett." The author's name I am sorry to say is unknown.)
O'ER THE MOOR AMANG THE HEATHER.
Coming through the craigs o' Kyle,
Amang the bonnie blooming heather,
Keeping a’ her ewes thegither.
O’er the moor amang the heather;
Keeping a' her ewes thegither.
Says I, my dear, where is thy hame,
In moor or dale, pray tell me whether? She says, I tend the fleecy flocks
That feed amang the blooming heather. We laid us down upon a bank,
Sae warm and sunnie was the weather : She left her flocks at large to rove
Amang the bonnie blooming heather.
Till echo rang a mile and farther ;
Was, O'er the moor anjang the heather.
I couldna think on ony other :-
The bonnie lass amang the heather !
O’er the moor amang the heather,
Down amang the blooming heather,
The bonnie lass amang the heather!
["Coming through the Craigs o' Kyle," is the composition of Jean Giover, a girl who was not only a whore but a thief, and in one or other character had visited most of the Correction IIouses in the west. She was born I believe in Kilmarnock. I took the song does from her singing, as she was strolling through the country with a slight-of-hand blackguard."_BURNS.
I rinted by Burns in Johnson's fourth volume.)
WHEN I UPON THY BOSOM LEAN.
When I upon thy bosom lean,
And fondly clasp thee a' my ain,
That made us ane, wha ance were twain:
The tender look, the melting kiss :
But only gie us change o' bliss.
Hae I a wish? it's a' for thee;
I ken thy wish is me to please;
That numbers on us look and gaze,
Weel pleas'd they see our happy days,
Nor envy's sel find aught to blame;
Thy bosom still shall be my hame.
I'll lay me there, and take my rest,
And if that aught disturb my dear,
And beg her not to drap a tear ;
United still her heart and mine;
That's twin'd till death shall them disjoin.
[" This song was the work of a very worthy facetious old fellow, John Lapraik, late of Dalfram, near Muirkirk, (in Ayrshire). He has often told me that he composed it one day when his wife had been fretting o'er their misfortunes."-BURNS.
Burns heard these beautiful verses sung in a rustic assembly, and was so delighted with them, that he desired the friendship of the author, and addressed a poetic epistle to him in which he alludes with exquisite delicacy to the above song
There was ae sang, amang the rest
To some sweet wife,
Works, II, p. 172.)