The Modern Scottish Minstrel - LightNovelsOnl.com
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Saw ye nae my Peggy comin'
Through Tillibelton's broom?
I 'm frae Aberdagie, Ower the crafts o' Craigie, For aught I ken o' Peggie, She 's ayont the moon.
'Twas but at the dawin', Clear the c.o.c.k was crawin', I saw Peggy cawin'
Hawky by the brier.
Early bells were ringin', Blythest birds were singin', Sweetest flowers were springin', A' her heart to cheer.
Now the tempest's blawin', Almond water 's flowin', Deep and ford unknowin', She maun cross the day.
Almond waters, spare her, Safe to Lynedoch bear her!
Its braes ne'er saw a fairer, Bess Bell nor Mary Gray.
Oh, now to be wi' her!
Or but ance to see her Skaithless, far or near, I 'd gie Scotland's crown.
Byeword, blind 's a lover-- Wha 's yon I discover?
Just yer ain fair rover, Stately stappin' down.
[53] Another song with the same t.i.tle, "Saw ye nae my Peggy?" is inserted in the Collections. It first appeared in Herd's Collection, in 1769, though it is understood to be of a considerably older date. Allan Ramsay composed two songs to the same air, but they are both inferior.
The air is believed to have originally been connected with some exceptionable words, beginning, "Saw ye my Maggie?"
GUDE NICHT, AND JOY BE WI' YE A'!
The best o' joys maun hae an end, The best o' friends maun part, I trow; The langest day will wear away, And I maun bid fareweel to you.
The tear will tell when hearts are fu', For words, gin they hae sense ava, They 're broken, faltering, and few: Gude nicht, and joy be wi' you a'!
Oh, we hae wander'd far and wide, O'er Scotia's lands o' frith and fell!
And mony a simple flower we 've pu'd, And twined it wi' the heather-bell.
We 've ranged the dingle and the dell, The cot-house, and the baron's ha'; Now we maun tak a last farewell: Gude nicht, and joy be wi' you a'!
My harp, fareweel! thy strains are past, Of gleefu' mirth, and heartfelt care; The voice of song maun cease at last, And minstrelsy itsel' decay.
But, oh! whar sorrow canna win, Nor parting tears are shed ava', May we meet neighbour, kith, and kin, And joy for aye be wi' us a'!
CAULD KAIL IN ABERDEEN.[54]
There 's cauld kail in Aberdeen, There 's castocks in Strabogie; And morn and e'en, they 're blythe and bein, That haud them frae the cogie.
Now, haud ye frae the cogie, lads; O bide ye frae the cogie!
I 'll tell ye true, ye 'll never rue, O' pa.s.sin' by the cogie.
Young Will was braw and weel put on, Sae blythe was he and vogie; And he got bonnie Mary Don, The flower o' a' Strabogie.
Wha wad hae thocht, at wooin' time, He 'd e'er forsaken Mary, And ta'en him to the tipplin' trade, Wi' boozin' Rob and Harry?
Sair Mary wrought, sair Mary grat, She scarce could lift the ladle; Wi' pithless feet, 'tween ilka greet, She 'd rock the borrow'd cradle.
Her weddin' plenis.h.i.+n' was gane, She never thocht to borrow: Her bonnie face was waxin' wan-- And Will wrought a' the sorrow.
He 's reelin' hame ae winter's nicht, Some later than the gloamin'; He 's ta'en the rig, he 's miss'd the brig, And Bogie 's ower him foamin'.
Wi' broken banes, out ower the stanes, He creepit up Strabogie; And a' the nicht he pray'd wi' micht, To keep him frae the cogie.
Now Mary's heart is light again-- She 's neither sick nor silly; For auld or young, nae sinfu' tongue, Could e'er entice her Willie; And aye the sang through Bogie rang-- "O had ye frae the cogie; The weary gill 's the sairest ill On braes o' fair Strabogie."
[54] This excellent ballad is the fourth version adapted to the air, "Cauld Kail in Aberdeen." Some notice of the three former will be found _ante_, p. 46.
HE'S OWER THE HILLS THAT I LO'E WEEL.
He 's ower the hills that I lo'e weel, He 's ower the hills we daurna name; He 's ower the hills ayont Dunblane, Wha soon will get his welcome hame.
My father's gane to fight for him, My brithers winna bide at hame; My mither greets and prays for them, And 'deed she thinks they 're no to blame.
He 's ower the hills, &c.
The Whigs may scoff, the Whigs may jeer; But, ah! that love maun be sincere Which still keeps true whate'er betide, An' for his sake leaves a' beside.
He 's ower the hills, &c.
His right these hills, his right these plains; Ower Hieland hearts secure he reigns; What lads e'er did our laddies will do; Were I a laddie, I'd follow him too.
He 's ower the hills, &c.
Sae n.o.ble a look, sae princely an air, Sae gallant and bold, sae young and sae fair; Oh, did ye but see him, ye 'd do as we've done!
Hear him but ance, to his standard you 'll run.
He 's ower the hills, &c.
Then draw the claymore, for Charlie then fight; For your country, religion, and a' that is right; Were ten thousand lives now given to me, I 'd die as aft for ane o' the three.
He 's ower the hills, &c.
THE La.s.s O' GOWRIE.[55]
AIR--_"Loch Erroch Side."_
'Twas on a summer's afternoon, A wee afore the sun gaed down, A la.s.sie, wi' a braw new gown, Cam' ower the hills to Gowrie.
The rose-bud, wash'd in summer's shower, Bloom'd fresh within the sunny bower; But Kitty was the fairest flower That e'er was seen in Gowrie.
To see her cousin she cam' there, An', oh, the scene was pa.s.sing fair!
For what in Scotland can compare Wi' the Ca.r.s.e o' Gowrie?
The sun was setting on the Tay, The blue hills melting into gray; The mavis' and the blackbird's lay Were sweetly heard in Gowrie.
