Wi' glowrin een, and lifted han's At length poor Mailie silence brak. edition is of 1772. In Mailie's Elegy Burns follows an old rant on the death of Habbie Simson, a piper. The text of "The Death, &c.," is from the Kilmarnock Edition, 1786. The title in the Common-place Book has "my ain pet yowe." The other variations are unimportant, except that in the MS., as in the first edition, the line, An' warn him, what I winna name," is put more bluntly, and first altered to its present form in 1787. 2 A neibour herd-callan. - R. B. THE DEATH OF POOR MAILIE "O thou, whase lamentable face "Tell him, if e'er again he keep "Tell him, he was a Master kin', "O, bid him save their harmless lives, "An' may they never learn the gates, An' bairns greet for them when they're dead. "My poor toop-lamb, my son an' heir, O, bid him breed him up wi' care! An' if he live to be a beast, To pit some havins in his breast! "An' warn him-what I winna name- с "An' neist, my yowie,d silly thing, е But aye keep mind to moop an' mell,' "And now, my bairns, wi' my last breath, I lea'e my blessin wi' you baith: An' when you think upo' your mither, "Now, honest Hughoc, dinna fail, This said, poor Mailie turn'd her head, POOR MAILIE'S ELEGY Poor Mailie's Elegy. LAMENT in rhyme, lament in prose, Wi' saut tears trickling down your nose; Past a' remead! a The last, sad cape-stane o' his woes; Poor Mailie's dead! It's no the loss o' warl's gear, The mourning weed: Thro' a' the town she trotted by him; I wat she was a sheep o' sense, Thro' thievish greed. Our bardie, lanely, keeps the spenced Or, if he wanders up the howe, Comes bleating till him, owre the knowe,' For bits o' bread; An' down the briny pearls rowe For Mailie dead. She was nae get" o' moorland tips,b с For her forbears were brought in ships, Frae 'yont the Tweed. A bonier fleesh ne'er cross'd the clips Than Mailie's dead.1 Wae worth the man wha first did shape Wi' chokin dread; An' Robin's bonnet wave wi' crape O, a' ye bards on bonie Doon! His heart will never get aboon' His Mailie's dead! Song-The Rigs o' Barley.2 Tune-"Corn Rigs are bonie." It was upon a Lammas night, The time flew by, wi' tentless heed, ⚫ offspring. d unlucky. b rams. 1 In an earlier MS. copy this verse runs thus: She was nae get o' runted rams, matted fleece. f above it. Now Robin, greetin, chows the hams 2 Probably of 1782-83. The Annie of this Oaristys is unknown; possibly she was a Mrs Merry, who claimed the distinction. |