The Complete Works of Robert Burns
Chapter 149 : Tune--"Robin Adair."[Alexander Cunningham, on whose unfortunate love-adventu

Tune--"Robin Adair."

[Alexander Cunningham, on whose unfortunate love-adventure Burns composed this song for Thomson, was a jeweller in Edinburgh, well connected, and of agreeable and polished manners. The story of his faithless mistress was the talk of Edinburgh, in 1793, when these words were written: the hero of the lay has been long dead; the heroine resides, a widow, in Edinburgh.]

I.

Had I a cave on some wild, distant sh.o.r.e, Where the winds howl to the waves' das.h.i.+ng roar; There would I weep my woes, There seek my lost repose, Till grief my eyes should close, Ne'er to wake more.

II.

Falsest of womankind, canst thou declare, All thy fond plighted vows--fleeting as air!

To thy new lover hie, Laugh o'er thy perjury, Then in thy bosom try What peace is there!

CCI.

BY ALLAN STREAM.

["Bravo! say I," exclaimed Burns, when he wrote these verses for Thomson. "It is a good song. Should you think so too, not else, you can set the music to it, and let the other follow as English verses.

Autumn is my propitious season; I make more verses in it than all the year else." The old song of "O my love Annie's very bonnie," helped the muse of Burns with this lyric.]

I.

By Allan stream I chanced to rove While Phoebus sank beyond Benledi; The winds were whispering through the grove, The yellow corn was waving ready; I listened to a lover's sang, And thought on youthfu' pleasures mony: And aye the wild wood echoes rang-- O dearly do I lo'e thee, Annie!

II.

O happy be the woodbine bower, Nae nightly bogle make it eerie; Nor ever sorrow stain the hour, The place and time I met my dearie!

Her head upon my throbbing breast, She, sinking, said, "I'm thine for ever?"

While mony a kiss the seal imprest, The sacred vow,--we ne'er should sever.

III.

The haunt o' Spring's the primrose brae, The Simmer joys the flocks to follow; How cheery, thro' her shortening day, Is Autumn, in her weeds o' yellow!

But can they melt the glowing heart, Or chain the soul in speechless pleasure, Or thro' each nerve the rapture dart, Like meeting her, our bosom's treasure?

[Ill.u.s.tration: "O WHISTLE, AND I'LL COME TO YOU, MY LAD".]

CCII.

O WHISTLE, AND I'LL COME TO YOU.

[In one of the variations of this song the name of the heroine is Jeanie: the song itself owes some of the sentiments as well as words to an old favourite Nithsdale chant of the same name. "Is Whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad," Burns inquires of Thomson, "one of your airs? I admire it much, and yesterday I set the following verses to it." The poet, two years afterwards, altered the fourth line thus:--

"Thy Jeany will venture wi' ye, my lad,"

and a.s.signed this reason: "In fact, a fair dame at whose shrine I, the priest of the Nine, offer up the incense of Parna.s.sus; a dame whom the Graces have attired in witchcraft, and whom the Loves have armed with lightning; a fair one, herself the heroine of the song, insists on the amendment, and dispute her commands if you dare."]

I.

O whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad, O whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad: Tho' father and mither and a' should gae mad, O whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad.

But warily tent, when you come to court me, And come na unless the back-yett be a-jee; Syne up the back-stile and let naebody see, And come as ye were na comin' to me.

And come as ye were na comin' to me.

II.

At kirk, or at market, whene'er ye meet me, Gang by me as tho' that ye car'd na a flie; But steal me a blink o' your bonnie black e'e, Yet look as ye were na lookin' at me.

Yet look as ye were na lookin' at me.

III.

Ay vow and protest that ye care na for me, And whiles ye may lightly my beauty a wee; But court na anither, tho' jokin' ye be, For fear that she wyle your fancy frae me.

For fear that she wyle your fancy frae me.

IV.

O whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad, O whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad: Tho' father and mither and a' should gae mad, O whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad.

CCIII.

ADOWN WINDING NITH.

["Mr. Clarke," says Burns to Thompson, "begs you to give Miss Phillis a corner in your book, as she is a particular flame of his. She is a Miss Phillis M'Murdo, sister to 'Bonnie Jean;' they are both pupils of his." This lady afterwards became Mrs. Norman Lockhart, of Carnwath.]

I.

Adown winding Nith I did wander, To mark the sweet flowers as they spring; Adown winding Nith I did wander, Of Phillis to muse and to sing.

Awa wi' your belles and your beauties, They never wi' her can compare: Whaever has met wi' my Phillis, Has met wi' the queen o' the fair.

II.

The daisy amus'd my fond fancy, So artless, so simple, so wild; Thou emblem, said I, o' my Phillis, For she is simplicity's child.