THE RIGS O' BARLEY

Corn rigs, an' barley rigs,
An' corn rigs are bonie:
I'll ne'er forget that happy night,
Amang the rigs wi' Annie.

The sky was blue, the wind was still,
The moon was shining clearly;
I set her down, wi' right good will,
Amang the rigs o' barley:

I ken't her heart was a' my ain;
I lov'd her most sincerely;
I kiss'd her owre and owre again,
Amang the rigs o' barley.

Corn rigs, an' barley rigs, &c.

I lock'd her in my fond embrace;
Her heart was beating rarely :
My blessings on that happy place,
Amang the rigs o' barley!

But by the moon and stars so bright,
That shone that hour so clearly!
She aye shall bless that happy night
Amang the rigs o' barley.

Corn rigs, an' barley rigs, &c.

I hae been blythe wi' comrades dear;
I hae been merry drinking;
I hae been joyfu' gath'rin gear;
I hae been happy thinking:
But a' the pleasures e'er I saw,
Tho' three times doubl'd fairly,
That happy night was worth them a',
Amang the rigs o' barley.

Corn rigs, an' barley rigs, &c.

Song-Composed in August.1

Tune-"I had a horse, I had nae mair."

Now westlin winds and slaught'ring guns
Bring Autumn's pleasant weather;
The moorcock springs on whirring wings
Amang the blooming heather:

Now waving grain, wide o'er the plain,
Delights the weary farmer;

And the moon shines bright, when I rove at night,
To muse upon my charmer.

The partridge loves the fruitful fells,
The plover loves the mountains;
The woodcock haunts the lonely dells,
The soaring hern the fountains:
Thro' lofty groves the cushat roves,
The path of man to shun it;
The hazel bush o'erhangs the thrush,
The spreading thorn the linnet.

Thus ev'ry kind their pleasure find,
The savage and the tender;
Some social join, and leagues combine,
Some solitary wander:
Avaunt, away! the cruel sway,

Tyrannic man's dominion;

The sportsman's joy, the murd'ring cry,
The flutt'ring, gory pinion!

But, Peggy dear, the ev'ning 's clear,
Thick flies the skimming swallow,
The sky is blue, the fields in view,
All fading-green and yellow :

1 This is an enlarged variant of "Har'ste, a Fragment," a very early song. Mrs Begg says that by turning "charmer' into Armour," Burns adapted the line to his Jean.

"

The text is that of the Kilmarnock edition, 1786, on which Burns made some slight alterations when he sent the song to Johnson in 1792.

MY NANIE, O

Come let us stray our gladsome way,
And view the charms of Nature;
The rustling corn, the fruited thorn,
And ev'ry happy creature.

We'll gently walk, and sweetly talk,
Till the silent moon shine clearly;
I'll grasp thy waist, and, fondly prest,
Swear how I love thee dearly:
Not vernal show'rs to budding flow'rs,
Not Autumn to the farmer,

So dear can be as thou to me,
My fair, my lovely charmer!

Song.1

Tune-"My Nanie, O."

BEHIND yon hills where Lugar flows,
'Mang moors an' mosses many, 0,
The wintry sun the day has clos'd,
And I'll awa to Nanie, O.

The westlin wind blaws loud an' shill
The night's baith mirk and rainy, O;
But I'll get my plaid an' out I'll steal,
An' owre the hill to Nanie, O.

a shrill.

1 Gilbert Burns avers that Robert was no Platonist; indeed Platonists were infrequent in Tarbolton. The Lugar is really the Stinchar, an excellent stream for salmon and sea-trout, and, for its length, beset by as many ruined castles as the Rhine. It enters the sea at Ballantrae.

"Stinchar" and not "Lugar" is the reading in all the poet's editions. In October 1792 he writes to Thomson, "In the printed copy of my 'Nanie O!' the name of the river is horribly prosaic. I will alter it :

'Behind yon hills where Lugar flows.

Girvan is the name of the river that suits the idea of the stanza best, but Lugar is the most agreeable modulation of syllables." The variations in the Common-place Book are unimportant, except that a chorus is added.

"And O, my bonie Nanie, O,

My young, my handsome Nanie, O,
Tho' I had the world all at my will,
I would give it all for Nanie, O."

My Nanie's charming, sweet, an' young;
Nae artfu' wiles to win ye, 0:
May ill befa' the flattering tongue
That wad beguile my Nanie, O.

Our auld guidman delights to view
His sheep an' kyed thrive bonie, O;
But I'm as blythe that hauds his pleugh,
An' has nae care but Nanie, O.

Come weel, come woe, I care na by;
I'll tak what Heav'n will sen' me, 0:
Nae ither care in life have I,

But live, an' love my Nanie, O.

⚫ daisy.

b carefully.

• worldly wealth.

d kine.

GREEN GROW THE RASHES

Song-Green Grow the Rashes.1

A FRAGMENT.

Chor.-Green grow the rashes, O;
Green grow the rashes, O
The sweetest hours that e'er I spend,
Are spent among the lasses, O.

THERE'S nought but care on ev'ry han',
In ev'ry hour that passes, 0:
What signifies the life o' man,
An' 'twere na for the lasses, O.

Green grow, &c.

The war'ly race may riches chase,
An' riches still may fly them, O;
An' tho' at last they catch them fast,
Their hearts can ne'er enjoy them, O.
Green grow, &c.

But gie me a cannie hour at e'en,
My arms about my dearie, O;
An' war'ly cares, an' war'ly men,
May a' gae tapsalteerie, O!

Green grow, &c.

For you sae douce,d ye sneer at this;
Ye're nought but senseless asses, 0:
The wisest man the warl' e'er saw,
He dearly lov'd the lasses, O.

Green grow, &c.

• topsy-turvy.

d grave. wanting in the Common-place Book, and is no doubt a later addition. In the third line of the chorus spend is altered to spent in the edition of 1793. In the third line of the 4th verse e'er was inserted in 1794 to avoid pronouncing warl' as a dissyllable.