The Complete Works of Robert Burns Part 107

I wad gie a' Knockhaspie's land For Highland Harry back again.

LXIV.

THE TAILOR.

Tune--"_The Tailor fell thro' the bed, thimbles an' a'._"

[The second and fourth verses are by Burns, the rest is very old, the air is also very old, and is played at trade festivals and processions by the Corporation of Tailors.]

I.

The Tailor fell thro' the bed, thimbles an' a', The Tailor fell thro' the bed, thimbles an' a'; The blankets were thin, and the sheets they were sma', The Tailor fell thro' the bed, thimbles an' a'.

II.

The sleepy bit la.s.sie, she dreaded nae ill, The sleepy bit la.s.sie, she dreaded nae ill; The weather was cauld, and the la.s.sie lay still, She thought that a tailor could do her nae ill.

III.

Gie me the groat again, canny young man; Gie me the groat again, canny young man; The day it is short, and the night it is lang, The dearest siller that ever I wan!

IV.

There's somebody weary wi' lying her lane; There's somebody weary wi' lying her lane; There's some that are dowie, I trow would be fain To see the bit tailor come skippin' again.

LXV.

SIMMER'S A PLEASANT TIME.

Tune--"_Ay waukin o'._"

[Tytler and Ritson unite in considering the air of these words as one of our most ancient melodies. The first verse of the song is from the hand of Burns; the rest had the benefit of his emendations: it is to be found in the Museum.]

I.

Simmer's a pleasant time, Flow'rs of ev'ry colour; The water rins o'er the heugh, And I long for my true lover.

Ay waukin O, Waukin still and wearie: Sleep I can get nane For thinking on my dearie.

II.

When I sleep I dream, When I wauk I'm eerie; Sleep I can get nane For thinking on my dearie.

III.

Lanely night comes on, A' the lave are sleeping; I think on my bonnie lad And I bleer my een with greetin'.

Ay waukin O, Waukin still and wearie: Sleep I can get nane For thinking on my dearie.

LXVI.

BEWARE O' BONNIE ANN.

Tune--"_Ye gallants bright._"

[Burns wrote this song in honour of Ann Masterton, daughter of Allan Masterton, author of the air of Strathallan's Lament: she is now Mrs.

Derbis.h.i.+re, and resides in London.]

I.

Ye gallants bright, I red ye right, Beware o' bonnie Ann; Her comely face sae fu' o' grace, Your heart she will trepan.

Her een sae bright, like stars by night, Her skin is like the swan; Sae jimply lac'd her genty waist, That sweetly ye might span.

II.

Youth, grace, and love attendant move, And pleasure leads the van: In a' their charms, and conquering arms, They wait on bonnie Ann.

The captive bands may chain the hands, But love enclaves the man; Ye Gallants braw, I red you a', Beware of bonnie Ann!

LXVII.

WHEN ROSY MAY.

Tune--"_The gardener wi' his paidle._"

[The air of this song is played annually at the precession of the Gardeners: the t.i.tle only is old; the rest is the work of Burns. Every trade had, in other days, an air of its own, and songs to correspond; but toil and sweat came in harder measures, and drove melodies out of working-men's heads.]

I.