A pint wi' her cummers I wad her allow, And when she comes hame she aye lays on the lads, [This song was first published in Yair's Charmer,' a collection of songs printed about 1765. I find it in a very corrupt state in Herd's Edition, 1769, and to this day the song has undergone many variations. Some clever hand might weld together the numerous verses, and make it an excellent song, Joanna Baillie has, I think, failed in her attempt to do so.] GET UP AND BAR THE DOOR. There dwalt a man on Crawford moor, He made gude maut, and brew'd gude ale, Now it fell about the Martinmas time, And a gay time it was than, That Johnie's wife had puddings to make, The wind swept cauld frae north to south, Quoth our gudeman to our gudewife, My hand is in my husewife-cap, If it's no barr'd this hunder year, They made a paction 'tween them twa, Whoever spoke the foremost word, Now whether is this a rich man's house, But ne'er a word wad ane o' them speak, And first they ate the white puddings, O muckle thought our gudewife to hersel, The young ane to the auld ane said, Here, man, take ye my knife, And gang and shave the gudeman's beard, While I kiss the gudewife. But there's nae water in the house, And what shall I do than ?- O, up then started our gudeman, Will ye kiss my wife afore my face, And scaud me wi' pudding bree! An' up an' started our gudewife, [For this excellent old song we are indebted to Herd, who published it in his collection, 1769. Burns also preserved some verses of the same song, and sent them to Johnson's Musical Museum, 1792, from which the present copy is much amended.] O MITHER DEAR, I 'GIN TO FEAR. O mither dear, I 'gin to fear, I winna keep; for in my sleep I start and dream of Johnny. Better to marry than miscarry; For shame and skaith's the clink o't, Sae while 'tis time I'll shun the crime, Had Eppy's apron hidden down, The kirk had ne'er a kend it; But when the word's gane through the town, Now Tam maun face the minister, Now haud yere tongue, my daughter dear, And [From the Tea Table Miscellany, 1724.] WHAT'S THAT TO YOU? My Jeany and I have toil'd Her stockings were of kersey green, O sic a leg was never seen, Her hair was black as ane could wish, The rose and lily baith combine, May cause mae men to rue, Conceal thy beauties if thou can, And I with faithful heart shall swear King Solomon had wives enow, And mony a concubine; [From the Tea Table Miscellany, 1724. It is an old song with additions by one of Ramsay's ingenious young gentlemen.'] |