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CONTENTS.
PAGE
A Hole to Hide it
in............ ...
37
A Parody on " Shepherds I
have lost my Love "
58
A Sentimental Sprig ... ...
... ... .. 56
A' that, and a' that ......(
.........
29
Act of Sederunt of the
Court of Session......
15
Andrew and his Cutty
Gan............
14
Anna ... ... ... ... ...
... ...
9
Beware of the Ripples ...
... ... ...
32
Botany Bay ... ...
......... ...
61
Brose and Butter.........
... •••
35
Burlesque on " The Highland
Laddie " ... "...
23
Burlesque on " Stella,
Darling of the Muses " ...
69
Can ye Labour Lea, Young
Mau ?...... ...
39
Can ye no let me be ?- ...
... ... ...
36
Coming o'er the Hills
o'Coupar...... ...
36
Cupid's Frolic... ... ...
... ... ...
56
Dainty Davy ...
...............
27
Darby's Key to Una's Lock
...... ... ...
51
David and Bathsheba ... ...
... ...
33
Duncan Davidson........
.... .... ...
39
Duncan Macleerie ... ...
... ... ...
38
Errock Brae
............,.-.........
28
Fanny's Black. Jock ...
..... ...... ..., ....
76
Gie the Lass her Fairing
... ..... ..... ...
40
Green: Leaves on the Green,
Oh-! ... .... ...
66
11,
CONTENTS.
PAGE
He till't and she
tint......... ... ...
33
Jack of all Trades
......... ......
74
John Anderson my Jo ... ...
...
83
John Anderson my Jo
............
84
Langolee ... ... ... ...
... ...
79
Letter of Robert Burns to
Robert Ainslie......
85
Letter of Robert Burns to
James Johnson ...
86
Libel Summons ... .........
...
87
Lucy and Kitty's Black
Jocks...... ...
54
Lullaby.....,......
.........
68
My Angel, I will Marry thee
... «.....
26
O gat ye me wiT
Naething............
16
Our Bride flat, and our
Bride flang ... ...
37
Our Jock's brack yest re'en
... ... ... ...
40
O saw ye my Maggy ? ......
......
19
Parody on " Corn Rigs
"............
44
Parody on" Shepherds, I
have lost my Love ...
58
Poor Bodies do naething but
——.........
11
Roger and "Molly ..........
... ;..
70
Supper is not ready ... ...
... ... ... ' 22
The Bonniest Lass ... ...
... ... ...
43
The Bottle ... ... ... ...
... ...
72
The Brown-------of Old
England ... ......
65
The Bumper Toast..........
... ...
63
The Case of Conscience ...
... ... ...
16
The Citadel ... ... ....
... ... ...
59
The Cooper o'Cuddy ... ...
... ...
10
The Cooper o' Dundee ...
... ... ...
25
The Court of Equity, Libel
Summons ... ...
87
The Fornicator ... ... ...
.... ...
12
CONTENTS.
The Goldfinch's Nest......
The Grey Jock
The Happy Bunter „.
The Highland Laddie
The Irish Root
The Lass o' Liviston ...
The Little Tenement...
The Moudiwart
The Mouse's Tail
The Origin of the Pox
The Patriarch ...
The Pious Parson
The Plenipotentiary ...
The Ploughman
......
The Ranting Dog, the Daddy
o't
The Reels of Bogie ......
The Ride in London ...
There's Hair on't
The Summer Morn ......
The Tailor
They took me to the Holy
Band
The Vigorous Courtezan
The Wishes
Toasts and Sentiments
Una's Lock ... ...
Wad ye do that
Wfaa'll Kiss me now ...
Ye hae lain Wrang, Lassie "...
Yon, yon, yon, Lassie
PREFACE.
The history of this book is
the following :
Robert Rurns, facinated by
the simplicity, beauty,
and pathetic tenderness of the songs and ballads of the
peasantry floating around him, set himself to gather
them up for preservation. How he accomplisned his
task, his imperishable works amply show. His re-
searches brought him acquainted with many strange,
outspoken ditties, for gentlemen of antiquarian tastes
need not be told that many of the Songs and Rhymes
then unprinted were, as Sir Walter Scott says, ''rather
high kilted," or, as Burns styles them, "not quite
1 idies' reading." It is the glory of Burns, however,
that he improved every song that passed through his
hands ; purifying it from its licentiousness, and steep-
ing it in the undying hues of his genius. While col-
lecting these " Auld Sangs," he came across others
whose humour was m ;re broad, and language and
meaning decidedly free. His antiquarian instinct and
strong sense of the ludicrous tempted him also to pre-
serve.them in manuscript form, In time what he has
thus collecte.3 he was led in a few instances also to
imitate, for no other object than to amuse a few of his
merry companions in their moments of conviviality.
Accordingly, we find him in
December, 1793, writing
to John McMurdo, Esq., Chamberlain to the Duke of
Queensberry, (a friend and neighbour of the Poet's),
" I think I' once mentioned something of a collection
of Scots songs I have for some years been making. I
send you a perusal of what I have got together I
could not conveniently spare them above five or six
days, and five or six glauces of them will probably
suffice you. A very few of them are my own. When
vi.
PREFACE.
you are tired of them
please leave them with Mr. Clint,
of the King's Arms. There is not another copy of the
collection in the world, and I should be sorry that any
unfortunate negligence should deprive me of what has
cost me a good deal of pains.
"R. B. '
This collection, including his own few performances,
originated in nothing worse than Burns' strong sense
of the ludicrous, and although he permitted an intimate
prudent croney an occasional peep at the volume, he
was very careful of it, and during his lifetime it was
seen and known only to a trusted few After his death
the M.S. volume having got into a careless hand, a
miserable fellow surreptitiously transcribed it and, to
the lasting grief of all friends of poor Burns, gave it
the honours of the press.
This note is written
therefore to point out Burns'
share in this Collection of Merry Songs—a share which
was chiefly that of collector, and not that of author ;
besides, to request of the limited number of antiquarian
admirers into whose hands the volume will find its way,
that they will be careful of it, and keep it out of the
way of "youth, innocence, and beauty." To gratify
the aforesaid antiquaries, two letters of the Great Poet
are now given for the first time, and also an unpublished
Poem, from the original manuscript in Burns' own
writing.
It is hoped that the
reader—be he Puritan or impure-
itan—will not be too hard on poor Burns. Remember
not the dust specks on his frame, but know him rather
PREFACE.
VU
as the sweetest and most
glorious singer that has yet
arisen to charm, and soothe, and strengthen mankind.
The age he lived in was different from yours, - and if
a free spoken ditty of the olden school now and then
oozed out, remember that humour in connection with
the sexual affections flourished in Greece and Rome
ages upon ages ago, and it is not yet extinct in your
own country, nor in your own bosom. One of your
own Poets but a short time ago bore his share, along
with a Rhyming Brother, in the following jeu d'esprit
which we are tempted to give r—
Poet No. i sang :
Tom went out as a
Mission-ary^
Unto the fields of
Timbuctoo,
There he met a Casso-wary,
Who ate him, and his
Hymn-book two.
Thus capped by Poet No. 2 :
Tom and Tim on mischief
bent,
Went to the plains of Timbuctoo*
They saw three Maidens in a tent,
Tom bucked one, and Tim-bucked-two.
The songs which can
undoubtedly be assigned to
Burns—as well as those of which great doubts exist
respecting his connection with them—are placed first
in the volume. With those that follow, the reader is
assured Burns had nothing whatever to*do, though
being expressed in the Scottish language inexperienced
persons may therefore attribute them to him.
A very few copies have been
printed, solely for anti-
quaries ; and none of them are for sale.
burns' merry muses.
13
Before the congregation
wide
I pass'd the muster fairly,
My handsome Betsy by my side,
We gat our ditty rarely.
My downcast eye, by chance did spy,
What made my mouth to
water,
Those limbs so clean, where I between,
Commenced a fornicator.
Wi' ruefu' face, and signs
o' grace,
I gaid the buttock hire ;
The night was dark, and thro' the park,
I could not but convoy her.
A parting kiss, what could I less,
My vows beofan to scatter,
Sweet Betsy fell, fal lal de ral,
And I'm the fornicator.
But by the sun and moon I
swear,
And I'll fulfill ilk hair
o't,
That while I own a single crown,
She's welcome to a share
o't.
My roguish boy, his mother's joy,
And darling of his pater,
I for his sake, the name will take,
A hardened fornicator.
Burns.
THE PATRIARCH
Tune - iS The Auld Cripple Dow."
As honest Jacob on a night,
With his beloved beauty,
Was duly laid on wedlock's bed,
And nodding at his duty.
*' How lang," she cried, "
ye fumbling wre tch,
Will ye be------ing at it ?
My auldest bairn will die o5
age,
Before that ye get at it."
" Ye pegh and grunt, and
goazle there,
And make an unco splutter,
And I ma un lie and -thole you there,
And fie tit a 'hair the
better."
BURNS5 MERRY
MUSES
Then he wrath put up his
graith,
" The devil's in the
hizzie,
I m — w you as I m—w the lave,
And night and day am busy.
I've bairn'd the servants,
gilpies bath,
Forbye your titty Leah,
Ye barren jade, ye make me mad,
What mair can I do wi' you
?
*' There's ne'er a m—w I
give the lave,
But I give thee a dizzen.
But deil a m—w you'll get again,
Although your c-----should
gizzen."
Th^n Rachael calm as ony
lamb,
She claps him on the waulies,
" Jacob ne'er fash a
woman's clash,
In troth you m—w me brawlies.
My dear, 'tis true, for
mony a m—w
I'm your grateful debtor,
But try again, I dinna ken,
Next time you'll f------me
better. "
The honest man wi' little
wark,
He soon forget his ire ;
The Patriarch cast of his sark,
And up and till't like
lire.
Burns.
ANDREW AND HIS CUTTY GUN.
Blythe, blythe, blythe was
she,
Blythe wTas she but and ben,
And weel she loved it in
her neeve,
But better when it slippit in.
Blythe, blythe, etc.
When a' the lave gaed to
their bed,
And I sat up to clean the shoon.
O wha think ye came jumping
ben,
But Andrew and his cutty gun
Blythe, blythe, etc.
burns' merry mises.
15
Or e'er I wist he laid me
back,
And up my gamon to my chin,
And ne'er a word to me he spak,
But liltit out his cutty
gun.
Blythe, blythe, etc.
The bawsent bitch she left
her whelps,
And hunted round us at the fun,
As Andrew dougled wi' his
doup,
And fired at me his cutty gun.
Blythe, blythe, etc.
0 some delight in
cutty-stoup,
And some delight in cutty-mum ;
But my deiight's an e—elms
coup,
Wi' Andrew and his cutty gun.
Blythe, blythe, etc.
Perhaps by Burns.
ACT OF SEDERUNT OF THE
COURT OF
SESSION.
Tune—** G*er the Muir
among the Heather"
In Embro' town they've made
a law,
In Embro' at the Court o' Session,
That standin'-----are
fautors a',
And guilty o' high
transgression.
Decreet o' the Court o'
Session,
Act Sederunt o' the Session.
That standin'------are
fautors a5,
And guilty o' a high
transgression.
And they've provided
dungeons deep,
Ilk lass has ane in her possessiou,
Until the fautors wail and
weep,
There they shall lie for
their transgression.
Decreet o' the Court o'
Session,
Act Sederunt of the Session.
The rogues in pouring tears
shall weep,
By Act Sederunt o' the Session.
Perhaps by Burns,
but doubtful*
16
BUKS"S7 MERRY MUSES1,
THE CASES OF SESSION.
Tune " An Id Sir Simon
the King.™
I'll tell you a tale of a wife,
And she was a Whig and a
sannt.
She lived a most sanctify'd life,
But whiles she was fashed
wiJ her------=■
Poor woman she gaed to the
Priest,
And to him she made her complaint,
There's naething that
troubles my breast
Sae sair as the sius of my-----.
He bade her to clear up her
brow,
And no be discourag'd upon't,
For holy good women enow,
Are mony times waur'd wi'
their------.
It's nocht but Beelzebub's
art,
And that's the mair sign of
a saunt.
He kens that ye?re
pure at the heart,
So levels Ms dart at your------.
0 ye that are called and
free,
Elected and chosen a saunt,
Won't break the eternal
decree,
Whatever yon do wi' your------.
And now with a sanctify'd
kiss,
Let's kneel and renew the cov'nant
It's this1—and
it's this—and it's this,
That settles the pride of your-----.
Devotion flew up to a
flame,
No words can do justice upon't.
The honest auld woman gaed
hame,
Rejoicing, and clawing her------.
Probably by Burns,
but doubtfulv
0 GAT YE ME WI' NAETHING.
" Gat je me, 0 gat ye me,
And gat ye me wi' naething,
A rock, a reel, a spinning
wheel,
A guide black------was ae
thing.
turns'5 merry
muses.
1
<Ci A
tocher fine, o'er rnuckle far,
When sic a scallion gat
it,"
""Indeed o'er muekle far, gudewife,
For that was aye the faut
o't.
** But haud your
tongue now, Luckie Laing,
() haud your tongue and jander,
I held the gate till you I
met,
Syne I began to wander
" I tint my whistle and my
sang,
I tint my peace arid
pleasure,
But your green grave now, Luckie Laing,
/ Wad airt me to my
treasure.-5'
Probably by Burns,
but doubtful.
THERE'S HAIR ON'T.
Tune '' Push
about the Jorum."
3Twas but
yest're'n I stented' graitli,
And labour'd lang and sair on't,
But fient work, nor work
wad it,
There's sic a crop o"3 hair on't.
There's hair on't, hair
on't,
There's thretty threave and mair on't,
But 'gin I live another year,
I'll tether my grey naigs on't.
And up the glen there was a
knowe,
Below the knowe a lair on't,
I maist had perish'd, horse
and fit,
I cauldna see for hair on't.
There's hair on't, &c.
But I'll plant a stake into
a flow,
That ploughman may take
ware on't,
And lay twa stepin' stanes
below,
And syne Til cow the hair on't.
There's hair on't, &c.
m.
BURNS' MERRY MrSES.
WHA'LL KISS ME NOW.
Tune—" Coming through
the J?ye:7T
0 wha'll kiss me now, my
joe,
And wha'll kiss me now,
A sodger with his bandileers,
Has-bang'd my belly fon.
0 I hae tint my rosy cheek,
Likewise my waist sae sma',
0 wae gae wi' the sodger loon,
The sodger did it a'.
And wha'll, &c.
For I maun thole the
scornfu" sneer?
0 mony a saucy quean,
When, curse upon her godly face,
Her------'s as merry's
mine.
And wha'll, &c.
Our dame holds up her
wanton tail,
As oft as she down lies,
And yet Misca's a young thing,
The trade if she but tries.
And wha'll, &c.
Our dame has aye her ain
gudeman^
And------for glutton greed,
And yet misca's a poor
thing,
That------for its bread.
And wha'll, &c.
Alack ! sae sweet a tree as
love,.
Sae bitter fruit should
bear,,
Alas that e'er a merry-----,
Should draw so many a tear.
And wha'll, &c.
But devil tak' the lousy
loon,
Denies the bairn he got,
Or leaves the merry------he
lo'ed,
To wear a ragged coat
And wha'll, &c
Perhaps by Burns*
but doubtful*
burns' merry muses.
19
None but the following
Songs, Scottish or otherwise,
can claim parentage of Bnrns. Some of them were in
print before he was born, In the chapbooks which
formed the popular literature of the times ; others had
been sung at country fairs, and the free and easies of
the period, when he rescued them for his collection.
0 SAW YE MY MAGGY.
Tune—" Saw ye my Maggy
?"
0 saw ye my Maggy,
0 saw ye my Maggy,
0 saw ye my Maggy,
Coming o'er the lea ?
What mark has your Maggy,
What mark has your Maggy,
What mark has your Maggy,
That ane may ken her by ?
My Maggie has a mark,
You'll find it in the dark,
It's in below her sark,
A little aboon her knee.
What wealth has your
Maggie,
What wealth has your Maggie,
What wealth has your Maggie,
In tocher, gowd, or fee ?
My Maggy has a treasure,
A hidden mine o' pleasure,
I'll dig it at my leisure,
It's a' alane for me.
How meet ye your Maggie,
How meet ye your Maggie,
How meet ye your Maggie,
WThen nane's to
hear or see ?
E'en that tell our wishes,
Eager glowing kisses,
Tkenf divine blisses,
In holy ecstacy,
BURNS7 MERRY
MUSES.
How lo'e ye your Maggy,
How lo'e ye your Maggy,
How lo'e ye your Maggy,
And lo'e nane but she T
Heavenly joys before me,
Rapture trembling o'er me,
Maggy, I adore thee,
On my bended knee.
THE REELS O' BOGIE.
You lads and lasses all
that dwell,
In the town of Strathbogie.
Whene'er you meet a pretty lasSj
Be sure you tip her cogie.
The lads and the lasses toy and kiss,
The lads ne'er think it is
amiss,
To bang the holes whereout they piss,
And that's the reels o'
Bogie.
There's Kent, and Keen, and
Aberdeen,
And the town of
Strathbogie,
Where every lad may have his lass,
Now that I've got my cogie
They spread wide their snow-white thighs,.
And when they see your
pintle rise,
They'll dance the reels o' Bogie.
A trooper going o'er the
lea,
He swore that he would
steer me,
And long before the break of day,
He giggled, goggled near
me.
He put a stiff thing in my hand,
I could not bear the
banging o't,
But long before he went away,
I suppled both the ends
o't.
His pintle was of largest
size,
Indeed it was a banger,
He fou^h a prize between my thighs,
.. Till It became a banger.
burns' merry muses.
21
Had you been seen the wee
bit skin,
He had to put his pintle
in,
You'd sworn it was a chitterling,
Dancing the reels o' Bogie.
He turned about to fire
again,
And give me t'other sally.
And as he fired I ne'er retired,
But received him in my
alley.
His pebbles they went thump, thump,
Against my little wanton
rump,
But soon I left him with the stump,
To dance the reels o'
Bogie.
Said I, young man, more ye
can't do,
I think I've granted your
desire,
By bobbing on my wanton clue,
You see your pintle's all
on fire.
When on my back I work like steel,
And bar the door with my
left heel,
And the more you------the less I feel,
And that's the reels of
Bogie.
THE MOUDIWARK.
Tune — iiO
for ane and twenty, Tom,"
The moudiwark as done me
ill,
And below my apron has beggit a hill,
I maun consult some learned dark,
About this wanton moudiwark.
And 0 the wanton moudiwark,
The weary wanton moudiwark,
I maun consult my learned dark,
About this wanton moudiwark.
0 first it got between my
taes,
Out o'er my garter neist it
it gaes,
At length it crap below my sark,
The weary wanton moudiwark.
And O the, &c.
22
BURNS*
MERRY MUSBflL
This moudiwark, tho' it be
blin%
If ance the nose o't you let in,
Then to the hilts, with a crack,
The weary wanton moudiwark.
And 0 the, &c.
When Marjorie was made a
bride,
And Willie lay down by her side,
Syne nought was heard when it wasdark7
But kicking at the moudiwark.
And 0 the, &c
THE HIGHLAND LADDIE.
As I came o'er the Cairney
Mount,
Down amang the blooming heather,
The Highland laddie drew
his durk,
And sheath'd it in her wanton leather.
0 my bonnie Highland
laddie,
My handsome charming
Highland lad die,
When I am sick and like to
die,
He'll roll me in his
Highland plaidie.
With me he play'd his
waalike pranks,
And on me boldly did adventure,
He did attack on both the
flanks,
And pushed fiercely in the centre.
0 my bonny, &c.
A furious fecht he did
maintain,
Wi' equal courage and
desire,
Alt ho' he charg'd me three to ane,
I stood my ground and took
his fire-
0 my bonnie^ &c.
SUPPER IS NOT READY.
Tune—"Clout ike Cauldron."'
Roseberry to his Lady says,
My hinnie and my succur,
0 shall we do the thing you ken I
Or shall we take our supper
I
Fal lal, &c
BURNS5 MERRY
MCSES.
23
Wi' modest face, sae full
of grace,
Reply'd his bonny Lady,
" My noble Lord, do as you please,
but supper is not ready "
Fal lal, Arc.
BURLESQUE ox the HIGHLAND
LADDIE.
The Lowland whores think
they are fine,
But oh, the bitches they are gaudy,
How much unlike a girl of
mine,
With whom every night I do
bawdy.
O my pretty Highland
harlot,
My handsome simp'ring
Highland harlot,
For your regard, I'll in
reward,
Go purchase you a cloak of
scarlet.
Where I at will, andfree to
choose,
To f ----the greatest
Lowland Lady,
That e'er was stretch'd in
courtly stews,
I'd sooner f — • my Peggy Brady
O my pretty, &c.
The gayest girl in burrows
town,
With paint and gaudy
clothes made ready,
Can't knock a p-----so
sweetly down,
As bonny, buxom Peggy Brady
0 my pretty, &c.
O'er benty hills I'll with
thee run,
And take thee from thy Highland daddy,
And f----- thee thrice e'er
set of sun—
How like you that, my Peggy
Brady ?
0 my pretty, kc.
A painted room and silken
bed,
May please a great man and
his lady,
But I can f----- and be as
glad,
Behind a bush with Peggy
Brady.
0 my pretty, &e.
Few compliments between us
pass,
For I call her my Peggy
Brady,
And when I lay her on the grass,
She cries, " My Jemmy are
you ready ? "
0 my pretty, &c.
24
burns' merry muses.
No greater joy does she
pretend,
Than that my p----- prove
strong and ready,
To squirt with her when she
does spend,
That's all the wish of
Peggy Brady.
0 my pretty, &c
THE PLOUGHMAN
The Ploughman he's a bonny
lad,
His mind his every true,
jo,
His garters knit below his knee,
His bonnet it is blue, joe.
Then up wi't a', iv,y
ploughman lad.
And hey my merry ploughman,
Of a' the trades that I do ken,
Commend me tc the ploughman.
As walking forth upon a
day,
I met a jolly ploughman,
I told him I had lands to plough,
If he would prove true man
He says, my dear, take ye
na fear,
I'll fit yon to a hair, jo,
I'll cleave it up, and hit it down,
And water furrow't fair,
jo.
I hae three owsen in my
plough,
Three better ne'er plough'd
ground, jo ;
The foremost ox is lang and
sraa',
And twa plump and round, jo
Then he wi' speed did yoke
his plough,
Which by a gaurd was droven, jo,
And when he wTas
between the stilts,
I thought I was in heaven, jo.
But the foremost ox fell in
the fur,
The tit her twa did flounder, jo,
The ploughman lad he
breathless grew,
In troth it was nae wonder, jo.
But sic' a risk below a
hill,
The plough she took a
stane, jo,
Which gart the fire flee
frae the stock,
The ploughman gaed a grane, jo.
BURNS5 MERRY
MUSES.
25
1 hae plough'd east, I hae
plough'd west,
In weather foul and fair
jo.
But the sairest ploughing e'er I plough'd,
Was ploughing amang hair,
jo.
Sing up wi't a', and in wi't a'.
And hey my merry ploughman,
0' a' the trades and crafts I ken,
Commend me to the
ploughman.
THE COOPER 0' DUNDEE.
Tune—"Bonnie Dundee."
Ye Coopers and Hoopers
attend to my ditty.
I sing of a cooper wha
clwalt in Dundee,
This yonng man he was baith am'rous and witty,
He pleas'd the fair maids
wi' the blink, of his e'e.
He wasna a cooper, a common
tub hooper,
The maist of his trade lay
in pleasing the fair,
He hoop'cl them, he coop'd
them, he bor'd them, die .
plugg'd them.
And a' sent for Sandy when oot o' repair.
For twelvemonth or so this
youth was respeckt'd,.
And he was as busy as weel
he could be,
But business increas'd sae, that some were neglect'd,
Which ruin'd his trade in
the town o' Dundee.
A Pailie's fair daughter
had wanted a coopin',
And Sandy was sent for, as ofttimes was lie,
He yerk't her sae hard,
that she sprung an end
hoopin',
Which banish'd poor Sandy from bonny Dundee.
YON, YON, YON LASSIE.
Tune—'i Ruffian's Rant.''
0 yon, yon, yon lassie,
Yon, yon, yon,
1 never met a bonny lass,
But wad play at yon
0 yon, yon, &c.
26
BtJRNS' MERRY Mi SES
I never saw a silken gown,
But I wad kiss the sleeve o't,
I never saw a maidenhead,
That I wad speir the leave o't
0 yon, yon, &e
Tell na me o' Meg, my wife,
Her crowdie has na savour,
But gie to me a bonny lass,
And let me steal the favour.
0 yon, yon, &c
Gie me her I kissed
yest're'en,
I vow but she was handsome,
For ilka hair upon
her-----,
Was worth a royal ransom.
And yon, yon, &c.
MY ANGEL, I WILL MARRY THE
Tune — "Green graw the
Rashes 0."
" My angel, I will marry
thee,
My angel, I will marry
thee,
And thrice a night,
I'll f — you tight,
Or else the devil carry me."
" Pray where are you
plucking me ?
Sir, whither are you pulling me ?"
" Why to the bed,
For strike me dead,
But I must have a -----at thee."
" What are you now adoing 0
?
WThat are you now adoing 0 ?
O fie, 0 fie,
I'll call mamma,
I fear you'll prove my ruin 0.
" You've made me of a
lather 0,
Y ou've made me all a lather 0,
And stopp'd my breath,
You'll be my death,
Indeed I'll tell my father 0.
BFRNS' MERRY MUSES
27
You mustn't draw your
sponge yet 0,
Another stroke my dearie 0 ?
Tf this love's Are,
Let me expire,
How can you now get weary 0 ? "
DAINTY DAVY.
A loving couple met one
day,
Kate and DaAy, dainty Davy,
' Twas in the merry month
of May,
That Kitty met her Davy.
And as they did together
play
If you will credit what I
say,
To pass the pleasant time
away,
He slipped in little Davy.
She strok'd him on the
curly poll,
0 my Davy, dainty Davy,
You are, she said, my life and soul,
So well I love my Davy.
Stay with me till the afternoon,
You cannot leave me thus so soon,
Play on my fiddle another tune,
Aud slip in dainty Davy.
He took her to the wrater
side,
Dainty Davy, dainty Davy,
And theu he stretched her quarters wide,
Because he was her Davy,
Soon as her thighs were opened wide,
Her lovley pleasnre-boat he spy'd,
Then in he got to have a ride,
And whipped in little Davy.
He led her to her father's
land,
Winsome Davy, funny Davy,
And put a stiff thing iu
her hand,
And call'd his little Davy.
Then laid her on a bed of
sand,
She guided it at his
command,
And made it run while it
could stand,
Then distance'd little
Davy.
28
burns'
merry muses.
He kissed her in her
father's eye,
Dainty Davy, Dainty Davy,
But little thought that she would cry7
For slipping in his Davy.
But soon, alas ! she curs'd her rump,
A boy began to kick and thump,
And'quickly she brought forth a lump?
And call'd it little Davy.
- ■ - ■
She then was fore'd to
swear the child,
To her Davy, naughty Davy,
Which almost made her
father wild,
He cursed and swore at Davy.
But soon he eased ther
pain,
He married her with might and main,
He's busy now baith morn and e'en,
Slipping in little Davy.
WAD YE DO THAT?
Tujste—"John Anderson my
Joe'.■ "
Oudewife,- when your
gudeman's frae home,
Might I but be sae bauld,
As come into your bed-chamber,
When winter nights are
cauld ?
As come into your bed-chamber,
When nights are caul'd and
wet,
And lie down in your gudeman's stead,
Gudewife, wad ye do that ?
Young man, if ye should be
so kind,
When my gudeman's frae
home,
As come into my bed-chamber,
Where I am laid my lane,
And lie down in my gudeman's stead.
Young man, I'll tell you
what,
He f-----me five times ilka night,
Young man, wad you do that
?
ERKOOK BRAE.
Tfne—'' Sir A lex. Don's
Strathspey."
0 Errock stane, may never maid
A in aid en by thee gae,
Nor e'er a chiel wi's standing graithj.
Que,: standing down
the brae
BURNS' MERRY MUSES.
29
For tilling Errock brae,-
young man,
And tilling Errock brae,
Needs an open fur, and stand in' graith
To till the Errock brae.
As I sat by the Errock
stane,
Surveying far and near,
Up came a Cameronian,
Wi5 a' his
preaching gear.
For tilling, &c.
He nang the Bible o'er the
brae,
Amang the rashy grass,
But the Solemn League and Covenant,
He laid below my------.
For tilling, &c.
Yet still his—-held the
grip,
He bobbed me weel, the holy
man,
That a Synod couldna tell
the------,
To wham it did belang.
For tilling, &c.
A Prelate he loups on
before,
A Catholic gets on behind,
But gie me a Cameronian,
He------me till I'm blind.
For tilling, &e
A' THAT AND A' THAT.
Put butter in my Donald's
brose,
For weel does Donald fa5 that;
I lo'e my Donald's tartan
hose,
His naked------, and a' that.
For a' that, and o' that,
And twice as mickle's a' that,
The lassie got a skelpit doup,
But wan the day for a' that.
For Donald swore a solemn
oath,
By his first hairy gravat,
That he would fecht the battle there.
And------the lass a' that.
For a' that, &c.
30
burns' meeey muses.
His hairy------,. baith
side and wide,.
Hung like a beggar's wallet
;
His------stood like rolling pin,.
She nicher'd when she saw
that.
For a' that, &c
Then she turned up
her------,
And she bade Donald claw
that;
The devil's dizzen Donald
drew,
And Donald gaed her a5 that.
For a' that, &c.
THE MOUSE'S TAIL.
Jack and his master a wager
laid,
Of threescore guineas and
ten,.
Which of them had the longest-----
The wager was to win.
Sing—Fol cle rol, &c.
They measured the length,
and eke the breadth,
They measured them round
about..
Bu Jack he did his master beat,
By four inches and the
snout.
The maid she went behind
the door,
For which she was to blame,
And when she saw the wager won,
She ran and told her dame.
The old woman went behind
the door,
To do as she was wont,
And stooping down to piss awee,
A mouse jumped in
her------.
The old woman cried out to
her good man,,
As loud as she could cry,
" A mouse ran up my whim-wham,
And with your----- I'll
die."
The old man then laid her
on a sack,
as oft he'd done
before,
i .ut he could not reach the mouse's tail.
By quite four inches and
more.
burns' merry muses.
'The old man cried out to
his man Jack,
As loud as he couid cry,
4i A mouse has run up my wife's privates,
And without your help
she'll die."
" Without you double my
wages," said JacV,
" Without you double my price,
Altho' I've got the longest
p------,
My p-----shall hunt no
mice."
" I'll double your wages."
said the old man,
And give thee a hat and
coat,
And if you f----- the mouse out there,
My dame shall give thee a
groat."
The old man stood on the
barn floor,
With long broom in his
hand,
To knock the mouse all on the head,
As soon as it should land.
" Then work away, my bonny
Jack,
Of my quim ye need have no doubt,
And if you use your
drumstick well.
You'll turn the mouse about.
Hide on, ride on, my bonny
Jack,
I think I feel your p-----;
Drive on, drive on, don't
stop for breath,
The short strokes will do
the trick."
So Jack he rode, and rode,
and rode,
Till his courage began to
flag,
'' Tho' your cock it be twelve inches long,
I don't call this half a
shag."
Jack gave a grunt, a
terrible thrust,
In hopes the groat to win,
" Goodwife, you've got an awful c------,
And that mouse is very far
in."
The prize cock failed, no
mouse came out,
The dame still felt her
pain,
The good man, refreshed, went on again,
And rode with might and
main.
burns' merry muses.
He rode, and rode till lie
fell off,
The dame still cried for
more,
So Jack got on and bored again,
Until his great p—— was
sore.
The old woman was a cunning
dame,
•As well as you may
believe,
For when those two conld f-----her no more,
She let the mouse out of
her sleeve.
BEWARE OF THE RIPPLES.
Tune - i6 The Tailor he fell thro' the Bed.'" ■
I rede you beware of the
ripples, young man,
I rede you beware of the ripples, young man,
Tho' the saddle be saft, ye needna ride aft,
For fear that the girdin' beguile you, young
man.
I rede you beware o' the
ripples, young man,
i rede you beware o' the ripples, young man ;
Tho' music be pleasure, tak music in measure,
Or ye may want wind in your whistle, young
man,
I rede you beware o' the
ripples, young man,
1 rede you beware o' the ripples young man ;
Whate'er you bestow, do less than ye dow.
The mair will be thought of your kindness,
young man.
I rede you beware o' the
ripples, young man,
I rede you beware o' the ripples, young man,
If you would be Strang, and wish to live lang,
Dance less wTi'
your a------to.the kipples, young
man.
TEE LASS 0' LIVISToN.
The bonnie lass o' Li vis
ton,
Her name ye ken, her name
ye ken,
And aye the welcomer you'll
be,
The farther ben, the farther ben.
. And she was written in
her contract,.
To lie her lane, to lie her lane.
BURNS' MERRY MUSE'S.
3
And I have written in my
contract,
To claw her wame, to slaw her wame.
The bonny lass o' Liviston,
She's berry brown, she's
berry brown ;
And ye winna trow her raven locks,
Gae farther down, gae
farther down.
She has a black and rolling e'e,
And a dimpled chin, a
dimpled chin,
And no to pree her bonny mou',
Wad be a sin, wad be a sin,
The bonnie lass o'
Liviston,
Came in to me, came in to
me,
I wat to baith ends o' the busk,
I made her free, I made her
free
I laid her feet to my bed.stock,
Her head to the wa', unto
the wa',
And I geed her wee coat in her teeth,
Her sark and a' her sark
and a'.
HE TILL'T AND SHE TILL'T.
Tune — * 'Maggie Lauder.''
He till't, and she till't,
And a' to mak a lad again ;
But the auld fumbling carle,
Soon began to nod again
And he dang, and she flang.
And a' to mak a' lassie o't
;
And he bor'd, and she roar'd,
But they couldna mak a'
lassie o't.
DAVID AND BATHSHEBA.
'Twas in the merry month of
May,
As good King David on a day
Was walking on his terrace,
There he espied fair Bathsheba,
A washing of her bare------
The more he looked, the
more he liked,
At length his cock stood
upright,
A fain he would be doing,
"Ye gods," said he, " what's that I see,"
And straight began a
wooing.
34
burns'
merry muses.
" Fair Bathsheba, if you'll
be mine,
I'll make you Queen of Palestine,
And guard you from the
Hittite,
Then spread your legs, you nympth divine,
For fear that I should
split, "
Fair Bathsheba repliied and
said,
My dearest love be not afraid,
My legs shan't lie together
;
You need not fear------will tear
'Tis made of stretching
leather."
King David then he
s-----her once,
And fain he would have
s-----her twice,
But his cock would stand no
longer,
" By Jove," says she, " wat's this I see,
My lord, the King's a
fumbler "
" Had ever woman such
ill-luck,
I could have had a better f-----
From my old man, Uriah.
0 ! sure," says she, " this can't be he
That slew the great
Goliath."
Says David, " Thousands of
my foes,
Have dealt me great and mighty blows,
But never could disarm me ;
Your c —, Jove's curse, is ten times worse,
Than the whole o? the
Philistine army
YE HAE LAIN WRANG, LASSIE.
Tune - ' * Up and waur them a\ Willie."
Ye hae lain wrang. lassie,
Ye hae lain a' wrang,
Ye've lain in some unco bed,
And wi' some unco man.
Your rosy cheeks are turn'd
sae wan,
You're greener than the grass,
Your coatie's shorter by a
span,
Yet deil an inch the less.
Ye hae lain. &c.
You've let the pownie o'er
the dyke,
And he's been in the corn ;
BUKNS' MERRY MUSES.
35
For aye the brose ye sup at
e'en,
Ye bock them or the morn.
Ye he lain, &c.
For lightly lap ye o'er the
knowe,
And thro' the wood ye sang ;
But hurrying o'er the foggy
byke,
I fear we've got a stang.
Ye hae lain, &c.
BROSE AND BUTTER.
Jenny sits up in the laft,
Jockey would fain be at
her,
But there cam a wind out o'
the west,
Made a' the winnocks to clatter.
0 gie my love brose,
brose,
0 gie my love brose and
butter,
For nane in Uarrick but him
Can please a lassie better.
The lav rock lo'es the
gross,
The pairtrick lo'es the stibble ;
And hey for the gardeners
lad,
To gully away wi' his dibble.
0 gie my love &c
My daddie sent me to the
hill,
To pull my Minnie some heather,
And drive it in your fill,
Ye're welcome to the
leather.
0 gie my love, &c.
The mouse is a merry we
heast,
The moudiewart wants the
e'en,
And 0 for a touch of the thing
1 had in my nieve
yest're'en.
0 gie my love brose, &c.
We a' were fou yest're'en,
The night shall be its brither,
And hey for a merry pin,
To nail twa whames
thegither.
0 gie my love, &c
36
burns' merhy muses
COMING O'ER THE HILLS O3
COUPAR.
Tune—44
Ruffian's Rant."
Coming o'er the Hills o'
Coupar,
Coming o'er the Hills o' Coupar,
Donald in a sudden wrath,
Ban his Highland durk into her
Donald Brodie met a lass,
Coming o'er the Hills o'
Coupar,
Donald wi' his Highland
wand,
Sounded a' the bits about her.
Coming o'er, &c.
Weel I wat she was a quean,
Wad mak a body's mouth to
water ;
Our mess, John, wi's auld
grey pow,
His holy lips wad lick it at her.
Coming o'er, &c.
Up she started in a fright,
And o'er the braes what she
could bicker.
Let her gang, said Donald now,
For in her erse- my shot is
sicker.
Coming o'er, &c.
CAN YE NOT LET ME BE,
Tune—(t I hae
laid a Herring im Satit.'
There lived a wife in
Whistle Cockpen,
Will ye no, can ye now, let me be.
She brewed good ale for
gentlemen,
And aye she waggit it wantonly.
The night blew sair wi'
wind and weet,5
Will ye no, etc
She shewed the traveller ben to sleep,
And aye, etc..
She saw a sight below the
sark,
Will ye, etc.
She wished she had it for a merk,
And aye, etc
burns' merry muses.
37
She saw a sight aboon his
knee,
Will ye, etc.
She would not wanted it for three,
And aye, etc.
0 where live ye, and what's
yer trade ?
Will ye, etc
1 am a thresher gude, he
said,
And aye, etc
And that's my flail, and
working graith,
Will ye, etc
And noble tools, quoth she, by my faith !
And aye, etc
I would gie ye a browst,
the best I hae,
Will ye, etc.
For a good night's work with tools like they,
And aye, etc
I would sell the hair frae
off my tail,
Will ye, etc.
To buy our Andrew sic a flail,
And aye, etc.
OUR BRIDE FLAT, AND OUR
BRIDE FLANG.
Tune --"East Newk o>
Fife."
Our bride flat, and our
bride flang,
But lang before the lavrock
sang.
She paid him twice for
every bang,
And grippet at the girtest
o't.
Our bride turn'd her to the
wa5,
But lang before the cock did craw,
She took him by the cock and a',
And grippet at the girtest o't.
A HOLE TO HIDE IT IN.
Tune — "Waukin' o' the
Fauld."
0 will ye speak at our town,
As ye come frae the fair,
And ye'se got a hole to hide in,
Wil|! baud it a'
and mair.
38
burns' merry muses.
0 haud awa your hand, -sir,
Ye gar me aye think shame,
And ye'se got a hole to
hide it in,
And think yoursel' at hame.
0 will ye let me be, sir,
Toots, now ye've reft my sark,
And ye'se got a hole to
hide it in,
Whar ye may work your work.
0 haud awa your hand, sir,
Ye're like to make me daft,
And ye'se got a hole to
hide it in,
To keep it warm and soft.
0 haud it in your hand,
sir,
Till I get up my claes,
Now------me as you'd----for life,
I hope your cock will
please.
DUNCAN MACLEERIE
Ti:ne— ' 'Jockey Macgill."
Duncan Macleerie and Janet
his wife,
They gaed to Kilmarnock to
buy a new knife.
But instead of a knife they
coft but a bleerie,
We're very well saired,
Janet, quoth Duncan Macleerie.
Duncan Macleerie has got a
new fiddle,
It' a' strung wi' hair, and
a hole in the middle,
And aye when he plays on't
his wife looks sae cheerie,
Weel done, my Duncan, quoth
Janet Macleerie.
Duncan hn played till his
bow it grew greasy,
Janet grew fretfu' and unco uneasy,
Hoot ! quoth Duncan, ye're unco soon weary,
Play us a pibrooch, quoth Janet Macleerie.
Duncan Macleerie he played
on the harp,
Janet Macleerie she danced in her sark.
Her sark it was short, her — it was hairy,
Very weel danced, Janet, quoth Duncan Macleerie.
THEY TOOK ME TO THE HOLY
BAND. .
Tunk—"Clout the
Cauldron."
They took me to the Holy Band,
For playing wi' my wife,
sir,
And lang and sair they lectured me,
For leading sic a life sir.
burns' merry muses.
I answered in not many
words,
" What diel needs a' this clatter ?
As long as she could keep
the grig,
I aye was-----at her
DUNCAN DAVIDSON.
There was a lass, they
ca'ed her Meg,
And she ga'ed o'er the muir to spin
She fee'd a lad to lift her
leg,
They ca'ed him Duncan
Davidson.
Fal lal, &e.
Meg had a muff, and it was
rough,
'Twas blask without and red
within,
And Duncan, cause he'd got a cauld,
He split his Highland
pintle in.
Fal lal, &c.
Meg had a muff, and it was rough,
And Duncan stuck twa
nievefu' in
Meg clapped her heels about his waist,
I thank you, Duncan, yerk
it in.
Fal lal, &c.
Duncan made her hurdies
dreep,
Brise ' yont, my lad, then Meg did say ;
0 gang he east, or gang he
west.
My------will not be dry the
day.
Fal lal, &c.
CAN YE LABOUR LEA, YOUNG
MAN. ?
Tune—'i Sir Arch. Grant,s Strathspey."
0 can ye labour lea, young
man.
0 can ye labour lea ?
Gae back the road ye come
again,
Ye ne'er shall scorn me.
1 fee'd a man at Martinmas,
Wi' arle pannies three.
But a' the faut I had to him,
He couldna labour lea,
0 can ye, &o.
A stibble rig is easy
ploughed,
And fallow land is free,
40
burns'
meeey muses.
But what a silly coof is he
That couldna labour lea.
O can ye, &c.
The bonny bush .and benty
knowe,
The ploughman points his sock in,
He sheds the roughness,
lays it by,
And bauldly ploughs his yoking.
0 can ye, &c
OUR JOCK'S BRACK YEST'RE'N.
Tune—" Gra??iachee"
Twa neighbonrs' wives sat
in the sun,
A twining at their rocks,
And they an argument began,
And a' the plea was cocks.
'Twas whether they were
sinews strong,
Or whether they were bane,
And. how they rowed about your thumb,
And how they stood their
lane.
First Rachael gied her rock
a tug,
And. syne she claw'd her
tail,
" When our Tarn draws on his breeks,
it waggles like a flail."
Says Bess, " They're cane,
I will maintain,
And proof in point I'll
gie,
For our Jock's cock it brak yest're'n,
• And I found it on my thigh."
GIE THE LASS HER FAIRING.
Tine- " Cauld Kail in Aberdeen."
0 gie the lass her fairing,
lad,
0 gie the lass her fairing,
And something else she'll gie to you,
That's wallow worth the
wearing'
Syne coup her o'er amang the creels,
When ye hae ta'en your
brandy,
The mair you bang, the less she spueals,
So hey for hougmagandie.
BlRNS' MERRY MUSES.
41
Then gie the lass her
fairing, lad,
0 gie the lass her fairing,
And she'll gie you a hairy thing,
And of itbe not sparing,
Lay her o'er amang the creels,
And bar the door wi' baith
your heels,
The mair she gets, the less she squeals,
So hey for houghmagandie.
THE TAILOR
The tailor came to clout
the claes,
Sic a braw fellow.
He filled the house a' fu' o' fleas.
Baffin down, and damn down.
He filled the house a' fu' o' fleas,
Damn down and dilly.
The lassie slipped ayont
the fire,
Sic a braw hissey.
Oh, she was his heart's desire,
Baffin, etc.
Oh, she was his heart's desire,
Baffin, etc
The lassie she fell fast
asleep,
Sic a braw hissey.
The tailor close to her did creep.
Baffin, etc.
The tailor close to her did creep.
Baffin, etc.
The lassie waukened in a
fright,
Sic a biaw hissie.
Her maidenhead had ta'en the flight.
Baffin, etc.
A tailor's bodkin caused the flight,
She sought it but, she
sought it ben,
Sic a braw hissey.
And in below the clockin' hen,
Baffin, etc.
It wasno but, it wasna ben.
Baffin, etc.
42
BURNS7 MERKY
MUSES.
She sought in the onsen
straw,
Sic a braw hissy.
No, faith, said she, it's quite awa?
Daffin, etc.
The tailor loon has stown't awa,
Daffin, etc
She sought it yont the
knocking stane,
Sic a braw hissy.
Some day, quoth she, 'twill gang it's laney
Daffin, etc.
For my tirley-wirley maks its mane.
Daffin, etc
She called the tailor to the court,
Sic a braw hissey.
And a' the young men round about.
Daffin, etc.
To gar the tailor mend her
clout
Daffin, etc.
She gar the tailor pay a fine,
Sic a braw hissey.
Gie my maidenhead again
Daffin, etc.
I'll hae my maidenhead again
Daffin, etc.
O what way would you ha'e't
again ?
Sic a braw hissey.
0 just the way it was tavern,
Daffin down and daffin
down.
Come, just the way that it was ta'en,
Daffin down and dilly.
THE SUMMER MORN.
Tune—6' Push
about the Jorum 4'
When maukin bucks, at early
f—
In dewy glens are seen,
sir,
When birds on boughs tak off their m—s,.
Amaug the leaves sae green,
sir,
Latona's son looks liquorish on
Dame Nature's grand
impetus,
Till his —— rise, then westward flies,
To f-----* old Madame
Thetis.
burns' merry muses.
4
Yon wandering rill, that
marks the hill.
And glances o'er the brae,
sir.
Sides by a bower, where mony a flower
Sheds fragrance on the day,
sir,
There Damon lay with Silvia gay,
To love they thought nae
crime, sir,
The wild birds sang, the echoes rang,
While Damon's -----beat
time, sir,
First wi' the thrush, he
thrust and pushed,
His pintle large and
strong, sir,
The blackbird next, his tunefu' text,
Mad© him both bold and
strong, sir,
The linnet's lay came then in play,
And the lark that soared
aboon, sir,
Till Damon fierce, mistimed bis a------,
And spent quite out of
time, sir.
THE BONNIEST LASS.
The bonniest lass that you
meet niest,
Gie her a Ikiss and a*
that,
In spite o' Ilka parish priest,
Repenting stool, and a'
that.
For a' that, and a, that,
Their min-mou'd sangs, and a' that.
In time the place convenient,
They'll do't themselves for a' that
Your patriarchs in days of
yore,
Had their handmaids in days
o' yore,
O' bastard gets some had a
score,
And some had mair than a' that.
For a' that, and a5
that,
Your lang syne saunts and
a' that,
Were fonder of a bonny
lass,
Than you or I for a' that.
King David when he waxed auld,
An' blude ran thin and a'
that,
And found his blood was growing cauld,
Could not refrain for a'
that.
44
BUEJSTS' MERRY MUSES.
For a' that, and a' that,
To keep him warm, and a' that,
The daughters o' Jerusalem
Were waled from him and aT that
Wha wadna pity the sweet
dames
. He fumbled at and a' that,
And raised their blood up into flames
He could not drown for aJ that.
For a' that, and a' that,
He wanted pith, and a7 that,
For as to^what we shall not name,
What could he do—but claw that ?
King Solomon, Prince oJ
Divines,
Wha Proverbs made, and aJ that,
Baith mistresses and
concubines
In hundreds had and a' that.
For a' that, and a' that,
Tho5 a preacher
wise and a' that,
The smuttiest sang that
e'er was sung,
His Sang o' Sangs was a'
that.
Then still I swear a clever
chiel,
Should kiss his lass and a*
that,
Though priests consigns him to the deil,
As reprobate and a' that.
For aJ that, and
a' that,
Their canting stuff and a' that,
They ken nae mair what's reprobate?
Than you or I, for a5 that.
PARODY ON CORN RIGGS.
My Pa tie is a lover gay,
He's always very funny,
And when we meet to sport and play,
He takes me by the cunny.
He claps his------between
my thighs,
My------he's almost
rending,
His tool's so stuff, and
such a size,
But 'tis Heaven when we are
spending.
BUKNS' MERRY MTJSES.
49
For fancied delight, they
all clubbed for a shite,
To frig in the school necessary,
And the teachers from france, f—d a la distance,
With the great Plenipotentiary.
Each sluice-c—d bawd, who'd
been s-----d abroad,
Till her premises gaped
like a grave, sir,
Found luck was so thick,
she could feel the Turk's p—,
Though all others were lost
in her cave, sir.
The nymphs of the stage did
his ramrod engage,
Made him free of their gay
seminary ;
And the Italian Signors
opened all their back doors
To the great
Plenipotentiary.
Then of love's sweet
reward, measured out by the yard,
The Turk was most blest of
mankind, sir,
For his powerful dart went
right home to the heart,
Whether stuck in before or
behind, sir.
But no pencil can draw this
great-pintled Bashaw,
Then let each c t-loving
contemporary,
As cocks of the game, let
drink to the name
Of the great
Plenipotentiary.
UNA'S LOCK.
'Twas on a sweet May
morning,
When violets were
a-springing,
The dew the meads adorning,
The larks melodious singing
;
The rose trees, by each breeze,
Were gently wafted up and
down,
And the primrose that then blows,
Bespankled nature's verdant
gown.
The purling rill, the murmuring stream,
Stole gently through the
lofty grove.
Such wae the time when Darby stole
Out to meet his barefoot
love.
Tol, lol, etc.
Sweet Una was the tightest,
Genteelest of the village dames j
Her eyes they were the
brightest
That e'er set youthful heart in flames.
50
burns'
merry muses.
Her lover, to move her,
By every art in vain
essay'd,
In ditty, for pity,
This lovely maid he often
prayed.
Bnt she perverse, his suit denied,
Sly Darby, being enraged at
this,
Resolved, when next they met, to seize
The lock that scatters
Una's piss.
Tol lol, etc.
Beneath a lofty spreading
oak,
She sat with cow and
milking pail,
From lily hands, at each stroke
In flowing streams the milk
did steal
With peeping and creeping,
Sly Darby now comes on
apace.
In raptures the youth sees
The blooming beauties of
her face.
Fired with her charms he now resolved
No longer to delay his
bliss
But instantly to catch the lock
That scatters pretty Una's
piss
Tol lol, etc.
Upon her back he laid her,
Turned up her smock so lily
white,
With joy the youth surveyed her,
Then gazed with wonder and
delight.
Her thighs they were so snowy fair,
And just between appeared a
crack.
The lips red, and overspread
With curling hairs of jetty
black.
Transported, Darby now beholds
The sum nf all his
promised bliss,
And instantly he catched the lock
That scatters pretty Una's
piss.
Tol lol, etc.
Within his arms he seized
her,
And pressed her to his panting breast,
What more could have
appeased her
But oaths which Darby meant in jest.
BURNS' MERRY McSES.
51
He swore he'd adore but
her,
And to her ever constant
prove.
He'd wed her, he'd bed her,
And none on earth but her
he'd love.
With vows like those he won her o'er,
And hoped she take it not
amiss,
If he presumed to catch the lock
That scatters pretty Una's
piss.
Tol lol, etc.
His cock it stood erected,
His breeches down about his
heels,
And what he long expected,
He now with boundless
rapture feels.
Now entered and concentrated,
The beauteous made lay in a
trance,
His bollocks went like elbows
Of fiddlers in a country
dance.
The melting .Una, now she cries,
I'd part with life for joy
like this ;
With showers of bliss they jointly oiled
The lock that scattered
Una's piss.
Tol lol, etc
DARBY'S KEY TO UNA'S LOOK.
Cold, pinching raw the
night was,
Each purling stream in
crystal bound,
All nature quite a sight was,
Both lifeless, leafless,
all around.
The birds' throats had no notes.
They nestled close to keep
them warm.
The peasants done, were trudging home,
With labour tired upon the
farm.
Night's ebon cloak wrapped nature up,
When Una made a rousing
fire,
Prepared the cup, the hearth swept up,
To cheer her love, her
heart's desire.
Tol lol, etc.
To love's appointment true
he came,
His fingers aching with the
cold,
"With joy he pledged his little dame,
The village new to hers he
told.
52
burns' merry muses.
In straw chair he placed
her,
And on a stool before her
sat.
And nigher to the fire
Were placed the little dog
and cat.
His breeches 'twixt the thighs were broke,
And as he sat nigh on the
ground,
Something with his shirt slipped out
You'd swear he'd got an
awful wound.
Tol lol, etc.
The fire's bright heat soon
made it stir,
The kitten looked, lifted
up her paw,
She twirled her tail began to purr,
And jumping up, this thing
did claw.
Darby bounced, and Una flounced,
That a thing twelve inches
long was seen
One part lay like a sheep's heart,
The other like a rolling
pin.
" 0 Lord," says she " what's this I see,
That doth my delicacy shock
? "
" Be soothed," he said, " my pretty maid,
'Tis Darby's key to Una's
lock "
Tol lol, etc.
" This key, dear Una, view
it,
Its powers aud wondrous
great ;
Folks of all ranks go to it,
Both maids of low and high
estate.
The little maid oft pants for this,
Whose cunny's like a
needle's eye,
And the bouncing dame with lech'rous flame,
Whose c-----would a horse
collar vie.
'Tis nature's powerful
master key,
That keeps alive Creation's
stock.
I'll show my pretty maid the way
To turn this key within
your lock."
Tol lol, etc
All raging with his keen
desire,
He Una cross the table
laid,
And with a p----- stark mad with fire,
He strove to perforate the
maid.
burns' merry muses.
53:
It being large, at the
first charge,
He burned priming in the
pan,
Which oiled the stock of Una's lock,
And at her again he then
began.
She wriggled her a — , threw up her legs,
And cried " F-----on, tho'
I'm undone.
O Darby dear," she says, "
ne'er fear,
But I disjoint your
jiggling bone."
Tol lol, etc.
THE GOLDFINCH'S NEST.
Fair Phillidia long jolly
Roger had pressed
To get her by some means a goldfinch's nest ;
Had she but a young one, she oft would say,
iShe'd kiss it and nurse it all night nnd all day.
Says Roger to Phillidia, " Now is the time,
The evening serene is, the spring is in prime.
To yon myrtle grove we'll together repair,
And a goldfinch I'll have, if a goldfinch be there."
They went into the wood,
but no nest could they find,
When weary with search on a
bank they reclined,
When Ro^er with warmth fair
Phillidia pressed,
And soon laid his hand on
the goldfinch's nest.
" I've found it, I've found
it (in raptures he cried),
And in it a young one whose
mouth opens wide."
" It's always a-gaping,"
sly Phillidia said,
"All night and all day -
the poor thing should be fed.'
The youth took the hint,
and he fed the poor bird.
The maiden all hushed was, and said not a word.
He fed it and crammed it, a mischievous knave,
Till, poor little thing, it gave back what he gave.
" Dear Roger," said she, "too much have you given,
And though 'twas in jest, I shall with you be even,
So now pray take notice, as sure as you're born,
Again and again you must feed it ere morn."
54
burns' merry muses.
LUCY AND KITTY'S BLACK
JOCKS.
Who has e'er been at Hereford must needs know the
Bell,
Where Lucy and Kitty, two sisters do dwell,
With their black jocks and
bellies so white.
None ever saw Lucy but wished to have kissed her,
Yet her charms were eclipsed by those of her sister,
So easy, so gay, so genteel on my life
That either was fit for an Emperor's wife.
With their black jocks, &c.
With romping fatigued and
the heat of the weather9
One day on the bed they both lay down together,
With their black jocks, &c.
They sighed and they talked of they did not know
what,
At length a sound sleep put an end to their chat.
I forget to premise they were stripped to their smock?
And the treacherous chamber-door wanted a lock.
To their black joe^s, &c.
Young Cupid, who's always
alert to his post,
And thought the occasion too good to be lost,
To a black jock, &c
So he slyly retired, and
returned in a trice,
With a cock of the game, a
true heart without price7
Says he, " Now's your time,
while they're both fast
asleep,
Creep into them softly and try for a peep,
At their black jocks, &c.
Then silent and cautious he
lifted the latch,
Resolved the critical moment to catch,
At their black jocks, &c.
But oh how he stared when
he came to the bed,
In their faces how blended the white and the red,
Such bubbies, such arms, such legs, and such thighs,.
But the thing of all things that attracted his eyes,
Was their black jocks, &c.
Lucy's posture he found was
the most opportune,
Ho her smock being up he-got iu very soon,
To bar black jock, &c.
burns' merry muses.
55
As matters went forward,
the closer he crept,
The faster he. hugged her, the faster she sleept ;
As long as he could he remained in his seat
But at length was obliged to beat a retreat,
From her black jock, &c.
Next Kitty he saw, and his
mouth 'gan to water,
Fresh vigour returned, and he swore he'd be at her
Black jock, &c
But here he had reckoned
without any host,
He could not get in, her legs were so crossed ;
He tried every way to make matters fit,
But all wTas in vain, for he never could hit
Her black jock, &c
Enraged ;it being baulked,
his scissors lie took,
And out of revenge he cut out every lock
From her black jock, &c.
Then soft as he entered
away did he creep,
As fast as he found them he left them asleep ;
Kitty, waking soon after, her hand laid across
The spot, and directly discovered the loss
Of her black jock, &c.
Her sister she waked in the
utmost despair,
" Lucy," said she, * I've lost all the hair
Of my black jock, &c.
" What shall I do, or where
can I go ?
A bald c-----■ is not worth
a farthing you know.
This cruel disgrace I can
never withstand ;
Look here, it's as bare as the palm of my hand,
My poor black jock, &c.
While I was asleep as I
hope to be saved,
Some villian got into the room and has shaved
My black jock, &c.
Lucy laughed in her sleeve,
but soon forcing a frown,
In a counterfeit fright clapped her hand on her own,
Says she, "If we'd slept on, we'd have suffered
together,
For see how the rascal has spread all his leather
On my black jock and belly so white."
BTJBNS'7 MERRY
MUSES.
CUPID'S FROLIC
What words can paint the
pleasure
That springs from lov's soft power %
When nature^s tufted
treasure
Pours sweet in spermy showers.
0 Cud id, all creation,
Enjoy the lustful time
Of charming copulation,
As nature's true sublime.
The crimson fluid glowing,
Each pore perspiring love,
Each eye with joy o'erfiowing,
The muscles lewdly move.
0 Cupid, &c.
In amorous pomp appearing,
Amazed the maiden eyes,
Love's rudder, Cupid steering,
To harbour 'tween her
thighs*
0 Cupid, &e
Now lewdly soft caressing,
The pliant limbs entwine,
To velvet velvet pressing,
Then springs the maiden
mine,.
O Cupid &c.
At leugth the lewd
infusion,
O'erflows its mossy bounds,
Her atoms dance confusion,
She cries'in moving sound".
0 Cupid, &c.
A SENTIMENTAL SPRIG.
Tine— "Push about the
JorumJr
My honest hearts that love
to sing,
And hate the wrretch that's boastings
Come let us make the
chamber sing
With sentimental toasting.
burns' merry muses.
57
The sacred love of liberty,
And liberty in loving,
In this fond wish we all agree,
However prone to roving.
The mouth that often has
two beards,
And swallews without chewing;
The fair one who neither
snorts nor girds,
ut love's to bill when cooing.
Life's luscious dish, a
brace of cocks,
With the sweet sauce of kisses,
Unlocking well the lock of
locks,
With key of mortal blisses.
The grave that does cast up
the dead,
And burries well the living
;
Love's baby rocked in nature's bed.
The girl that takes when
giving.
The key that slips the maiden out,
And let's the lover enter ;
The bird within, the bush withont,
Attractions lovely centre-
May good men ever pleasure taste,
And taste have in their
pleasure ;
The maid that spends, and will not taste
One atom of her treasure ;
The tapping with the spiggot,
That gives the lass a
tumour,
The balls that beauteous women beat,
Into a pleasant humour.
The lines that mutual
passion paints,
Success to young beginners
;
Here's to the mother of all 0aints,
A maker of all sinners.
The human bump when ta'en in hand,
With Cupid's cover on it;
The nick that makes the tail to stand,
And bud-rue's scarlet
bonnet.
The little pilot, t hough
he's blind,
Who steers in love's harbour ;
The lass who lathers us
when kind,
The handsome female barber.
58
burns' merry muses.
The mouth that spews up all
mankind.
The tune of tune in farces,
Is that duet with parts conjoined,
In the opera of a-----s.
The middle finger's
favourite ring,
That friction sets on fire
;
The tuneful bells that always ring
When maidenheads expire ;
The small thatched house beneath the hill,
The fountain in Hair Court,
sirs,
May sportsmen have of game their fill,
And huntsmen have good
sport, sirs.
A PARODY ON "SHEPHERDS I HAVE
LOST
MY LOVE."
Shepherds I have got the
clap,
Stroking of my Anna ;
My time's filled up, oh sad mishap,
With taking salts and
senna.
I for her King's Place forsook,
Where girls I had past
telling ;
But now my pipe's turned to a crook,
My b------, how they're
hanging.
Never will I stroke her
more,
But to the devil pitch her
;
Shepherds mark the dirty whore,
Beware, though,
thou------her.
With whey and gruel all day
fed,
Youth by me take warning,
Three pills e'er I go to bed.
And four again each
morning.
THE HAPPY BUNTER.
How happy a state does the
Bunter possess,
Who ne'er be greater and ne'er can be less ;
On her face and her
c-----she depends for support,
As well as do some of the
madams at court.
What though she may often in coarse linen go,
Nor boast if fine laces to make a great show,
Yet a girl in that dress may be jiieier far
Than a lady that's f------by a garter and star.
burns' merry m ses.
59
Though her hands they are
red and her bubbies are
coarse,
Her c----- for all that may
be nothing the worse,
A court demirep with less
vigour may play,
And her passions in motions
less charming convey.
What though a youug
stallion she sometimes may lack,
When warm with desire and
stretched on her back,
In this, too, examples
great ladies afford,
Who oft put a footman in
place of a lord.
Or should she endeavour to
heap an estate,
In this, too, she mimics the punks of State,
Whose aims are but slyly to get a good stroke,
As all her concern's to supply her black jock.
At night when sport's over, with drinking made dry,
Unsated with swiving, she snoring does lie,
Then rises next morning for shagging most keen,
If thus f — like a Bunter, then who'd be a queen ?
THE CITADEL.
I am a sporting amorous
maid,
That ranged this nation up
and down,
In every place my fame's displayed,
In Cupid's wars I've gained
renown.
Amongst them all, both great and small.
With vast applause I've
.bore the bell,
I've a little fort, 'twas built for sport.
And by some is called the
Citadel.
Through it runs a purling
stream,
Whose force would turn a
little mill,
It's in a forest sweetly hid,
And sheltered by gentle
hill.
Such curious art in every part,
Its architect none can
excel;
That workman rare, with wondrous care,
Had fortified my Citadel.
A captain brave, his skill
to try,
Resolved for to besiege my fort;
I did this son of Mars
defy,
And straight blocked up my sally-port.
60
BURNS'
MERRY Ml'SES.
For its defence, with
cautious care,
Each avenue I guarded well, ;
For the attack he did
prepare,
And swore he'd storm my
Citadel.
Just in front, upon a
plain,
His battery opened to my
view ;
Being fully bent the tower to gain,
Still nearer to the gate he
drew.
No art or means I left untried
This fierce assailant to
repel,
A bastion flanked upon each side
The entrance to my Citadel.
When he the covered way he
gained,
He on the breastwork made a
halt,
His vanguard being well sustained,
He now prepared for the
assault.
With furious rage he did assail,
The town he entered
pell-mell ;
His metal flew about like hail
In the centre of my Citadel
By him oppressed and sore
distressed,
My outworks all being
beaten down,
One effort I resolved to tey,
In hopes to drive him from
the town.
I opened straight my water gate,
Such a rapid torrent on him
fell
As quickly forced him to rerteat,
And quite forsake my
Citadel.
The hero being mad with
rage.
Resolved for to attack again,
I was unwilling to engage.
I found resistance was in
vain.
No succour nigh, my
fountain dry,
By which I might the foe
repel;
I being afraid, beat the chamade.
And surrendered up my
Citadel.
When he entered it I humbly
craved
That he would not the works destroy,
Like a man of honour- he
behaved.
And only fired a feu de joie.
burns' merry muses.
61
He marched away, but now I
find
I've the sad story for to tell,
That to my grief he left
behind
Some wildfire in my Citadel.
If any young man should now
dare
Invade my Citadel again,
To enter it, let him beware,
For if he does he'll suffer
pain.
Should any form this design,
The truth to him I'll
plainly tell,
On him I'll quickly spring a mine,
'Twill scorch him in my
Citadel.
BOTANY BAY.
Britannia, fair guardian of
this favoured land,
To a sell erne gaver
sanction by the Ministry planned,
For transporting her sons
who from honour should
stray,
To a sweet spot terrestrial, called Botany Bay.
Now this Bay, by some
blockheads, we've sagely been
told,
Was unknown to the famed navigators of old,
But this I deny in terms homely and blunt,
For Botany Bay is the ?-pot we call c------.
Our ancestor Adam, 'tis
past any doubt,
Was the famous Columbus that found the spot out;
He braved every billow, rock, quicksand, and shore,
To steer through the passage none o'er steered thro'
before.
Kind Nature, ere Adam had
put off to sea,
Bid him be of good cheer, for his pilot she'd be ;
Then his cables he split, and stood straight for the Bay,
But was stopped in his passage about midway.
Though shook by the stroke,
Adam's mast stood upright,
His ballast was steady, his
tackling was tight,
Then a breeze springing up,
down the Bed Straits he
run,
And o'er joyed at his voyoge he fired off a great gun.
62
BURNS5 MERRY
MUSES
"Avast," Adam cried, " I'm
dismasted, I doubt,
If I don't tack the head of my vessel about."
" Take courage," cried Nature, " leave it to me,
It's only the entrance into the Red Sea."
High from the masthead, by
the help of one eye,
The heart of the Bay did old Adam espy,
And alarmed at some noise, to him nature did say,
" That it was a trade-wind, that blows always one
way."
So transported was Adam
with sweet Botany Bay,
He Dame Nature implored to spend their night and day,
And curious, he tried the Bay's bottom to sound,
But this line was too short by a yard from the ground.
The time being out Nature's
sentence had passed,
Adam humbly a favour of her
bounty asked,
And when stocked with
provisions, and everthing
sound,
To Botany Bay he again might be bound
Nature granted the boon,
both to him and his race,
And said, "Oft I'll transport you to that charming
place ;
Ant never," she cried, " as your honour my word,
Set sail with a clap, pox, or famine <m board."
Then this Botany Bay,
or------, much the same,
I have proved is the spot
whence all of us came ;
May we there be transported with pleasure and speed,
And nourish its soil with sowing our seed.
THE PIOUS PARSON.
Tune- stOf noble race was Shenkin."
There was a pious Parson,
Who lived at Upper Harding,
That loved his lass.
And pretty lass,
And hated dice and carding
The parson went a courting,
To ladies was unlucky,
For all he said,
To wife or maid,
Was, " Madam, shall I f-----ye V
burns' merry muses.
63
This parson when in London,
Lodged near to Norton Folgate,
He coached Sal Carr
From Temple Bar,
And f----- her quite to Aldgate.
He once swived Oyster
Nelly,
With c-----as black as charcoal,
He f-----so quick
That he fired his p------
With friction in her dark
hole.
He finger f-----the Furies,
He bollocked the bitches,
Jove and all Gods
He beat for Gods,
So large they burst his breeches.
He stitched the goddess
Juno,
That haughty bitch of thunder,
He rammed his tarse
Into her-----,
And split her-----asunder.
His p-----was full twelve
inches,
The total he did give her ;
He f-----her tight
Twelve times a night,
And the thirteenth turned her liver
THE BUMPER TOAST.
I can't for my life guess
the cause of this fuss,
Why ye drink the health of
each high-titled bel -
dame ;
What a Queen or a Princess or a Duchess to us ?
We never have spoke to, and
see them but seldom.
Fill a bumper, my host, and I'll give you a toast,
We all have conversed with
and everyone knows ;
Fill it up to the top, and drink every drop,
Here's c — in a bumper
wherever she goes.
Your high-sounding titles that kings can create
Derive all theie lusnre and
weight from the donor ;
But c------ can despise all the mockery of state,
For she's in herself the
true fountain of honour.
64
burns' merry muses.
She fixes for life the
title of wife,
In her does the husband his
honour repose,
Her titles are bright, all
in her own right,
Here's c------in a bumper wherever she goes,
In rags or brocades she is
equally great,
Her fountain gives rapture
to all that bathe in it;
On a rush bottom chair or a down bed of state
To bliss we're transported
in less than a minute^
She's banished all care, is a foe to despair,
She's the loveliest Lethe
te soften our woes ;
Nothing nature can boast can rival the toast,
Of c-----in a bumper
wherever she goes.
Your wiseacre critics are
puzzling their brains
How crowns and coronets
first came in fashion ;
But a peep at her would have saved them the pains,
For c-----wore a coronet
since his creation.
A title so old, never
bartered for Gold,
The whole British Peerage
wonld vainly oppose ;
Then let Mother Eve due homage receive,
Heie's c-----in a bumper
wherever she goes.
That Peers on the trial of
peers are to sit.
Is thesr highest
distinction beyond all denial ;
But------, though untitled by patent or writ,
Can bring sou jure,
even kings to a trial.
Condemned to wear horns, poor G------r scorns
The judgment he passes on
impotent beaux ;
So justly severe may she ever appear
Here's c----- in a bumper
wherever she goes.
That noble> are born the
advisers of kings,
Is a maxim established in
every free nation ;
Then sure a just claim to that title she brings,
Whose rhetoric effected the
great Eeformation.
Teo' Charles lent his ears to his periwig,
Yer c---- was the
counsellor under the rose,
She whispered her mind, the
Commons grew kind ;
Here's c------in a pumper
wherever she goes.
That nobles are sentenced
to die by the axe
For breach of allegiance,
we all must have read it;
Thus c-----, when the bond
of decorum she cracks,
Like a Queen or a Princess,
is always beheaded.
burns' meeey muses.
65
The King without fees, will
execute these,
While none but the hangman
will meddle with those;
Then since from the throne
such deference is shown,
Here's c-----in a bumper wherever she goes.
Your stars and your garters
and ribbons profuse.
And white coats of arms
that a beggar might quarter,
How faint are the
splendour, how trifling their use,
Compared with the star that shines over the garter.
The star in the front is
the emblem of c-----,
In a lovely field argent,
crown, sable she glows,
And two rampant p------s as
supporters we fix,
Here's c------in a bumper
wherever she goes
THE BROWN ----- OF OLD
ENGLAND.
TrNE " The Roast Beef of
Old England."
When mighty brown —— were
the Englishman's taste*
With strong curled hair that could tie round the waist.
Our offspring were stout, and our wives were all chaste
Oh ! the brown-----of old
England,
And oh ! the old English
brown------.
But since we have learned
from all-vapouring France,
To ----- and to-----as well
as to dance,
To a juicy brown-----we're
afraid to advance.
Oh ! the brown, &c.
Our fathers of old were
robust, stout, and strong,
And had-----, reports says,
full twelve inches long,
Which made their pi amp
dames rejoice in this song.
Oh ! the large, &c.
But now we're dwindled to
I'll tell you what,
A sneaking poor race of small hunters, most hot,
And a ----- of nine inches
is hard to be got.
Oh ! the large, &c.
King Edward the Third, for
his------was renowned,
Had a------thirteen inches
before he was crowned,
He------all the ladies, and
never lost ground.
Oh ! the large, &c.
King Henry the Eighth, as
recorded of old,
Had swinging large cods, as you've often been told,
And his royal p— was a sight to behold.
Oh ! the large, &c.
66*
burns'
merry museSv
In those days our sailor's
fought much on the main,
They walloped the proud Spaniard , again and again,.
Then f - d all wives, widows, and daughters in Spain.
Oh I the large, &c.
King James when he
travelled the throne to ascend,
In Yorkshire he found a
brown c------to commend,
And f-----it, then- said,
there's no p------but would
spend.
With the brown, &c
Then, then, we were able to
f-----or to fight,
Our swords, always drawn,
and our p------ always-
right,
But we're a parcel
shiddle-come-sh-----T
Oh! the large, &c.
GREEN LEAVES ON THE GBEEN, OH I
There lived a wife on the
top of yon hill,
Green leaves on the green,
oh !
She sells good ale ta gentlemen,
And yon know very well what
I mean, oh !
There were sailors riding
by,
Green leaves, &c,
They called for some ale because they were dry,
And you know, &c.
After one bottle they
called for another,
Green leaves, &c,
The one for the daughter, the other the mother,
And yoa know, &c.
The daughter soon grew sick
and faint,
Green leaves, &c.
She said she'd lie down, 'twould ease her complaint,
And you know, &c.
Jack Tar he also grew queer
and sick^
Green leaves, &c,
is trouble it was a
standing------y
And you know3,
&c
BURNS' MERRY MCSES..
67
They have put them both in
a bed together,
Green leaves, &c.,
To see if the one would cure the other,
And you know, &c.
She put her right hand over
his thigh,
Green leaves, &c,
And found a stiff thing standing by,
And you know, &e.
What is this, my dear ? she
says,
Green leaves, &c.,
It's Billy, my Nag, my dear, he says,
And you know, &c.
He put his right hand over
her thigh,
Green leaves, &cs.,
And found a thing like a pigeon-pie,
And you know, &c.
What is this, my dear ? he
says,
Green leaves, &c,
It's my Green Meadow, my dear, she says,
And you know, &c.
And in my meadow there
springs a well,
Green leaves, &c ,
And Billy, your Nag may f------his fill,
And you know, &c.
If Billy, my Nag, should
chance to fall in,
Green leaves, #c,
He must hold by the bush that grows on the brim,
And you know, &c
What if the bush should
chance to be rotten ?
Green leaves, &c,
He must f------up and down till he comes to the
bottom.
And you know, &c. ,;
THE HIDE IN LONDON.
As I went through London
City,
'Twas at twelve o'clock at night,
There I saw a damsel
pretty,
Washing her jock by
candlelight.
68
burns' merry muses.
When she washed it, then
she dried it,
The hair was black as coal upon't
In all my life T never saw
A girl that had so fine a-----,
My dear, said I, what shall
I give thee
For ago at—you know what ?
Half-a-erown, if you are
willing,
Two shillings, or you shall not.
Eighteen pence my dear, 111
give thee,
Twenty pence, or not at
all.
With all my heart ; it is a bargain
80 up she mounts a cobler's
stall.
My dear said I, how shall I
ride you -
The gallop, amble, or the trot ?
The amble is the easiest
pace, sir,.
With all my heart, so up I got.
(
The envious
cobbler heard our parley,
And through a hole he
thrust his awl,
Which pricked my girl right in her a—hole,
And threw the rider from the stall
LULLABY.
Nancy on a sofa lying,
Caught by chance my
raptured eye
5 Twixt her lilly thighs I gently,
Sighing placed my Lullaby,
Lullaby, lullaby, lullaby,
lullaby,
Sighing, placed my lullaby.
Quickly waking with the
motion,
Thus the lovely maid did cry,
" Women fears, they've all
a notion,
How I'm soothed by lullaby.'
Lullaby, rullaby etc.
Seven times in transporting
blisses,
Each did with the other vie,
Still her hand fresh vigour
courting,
Asked again for lullaby,
Lullaby, lullaby, etc.
burns' merry muses.
69
<*'Tell me,
dearest youth, if heaven
Be like this, then let me die ;
Every night repeat the
seven,
Kill me with your Lullaby,"
Lullaby, lullaby, etc.
BURLESQUE ON "STELLA,
DARLING OF
THE MUSES."
Kitty, dearer than the
Muses,
Fairer far than anything,
Though Ldid, when at Peg Hughes's,
From your------imbibe a
sting-
While my p-----enraptured traces,
All your parts for joy
designed,
All the corners, all the mazes,
I in vain do strive to
find.
Love and joy and
admiration,
Cause my p — at once to
rise,
Words can never paint my passion
When your c-----'s before
my eyes*
Lavish nature thee
adorning,
O'er yours thighs and smock
has spread
Flowers that might shame the morning,
Shining like the Tyrian
red.
But, alas! too weak my will
is,
Where strong hair in knots
combine,
Whoring Jove, or stout Achilles,
Might have p-----s for
c-----s like thine.
Could my cods, in best
condition,
Give your c------ its
utmost due,
Lovely Kitty, their
ambition
Would be to beslobber you.
THE WISHES.
Tune—"Suppose I should
ask from those Lips a KissS
I wish, my dear Nelly, you
were an oat cake,
Then on the like butter I'd
spread,
Or wert thou a floweret most sweet, for thy sake,
Like a bee would I suck
till I'm dead.
70
B'TTKHS;? MEKKY
MUSES.
Or wert thou a negus, with
acid best pleased,.
A lemon I'd instantly
prove,
And give myself up to be tickled and squeezed^
Into the lips of my love.
And wert thou converted to
punch in a bowlr
How gladly thy ladle I'd be
;
To stir up the treasure and joy of my soul,
To fill thee out frolic and
free
Or wert thou a garden all
covered with weeds>
Unplanted with flower or
tree ;
In thee I would set all my fruit and my seed,
And day and night dig into
thee.
Or wert thou a hogshead of
sparkling wine,
Kept safe in a vault under
lock,
I'd taste thee and tap thee, while potent and fine,
And put in thy body my
cock,
Or wert thou a mortar for
pounding strong spice?
A pestle I'd be as your
slave,
For thee I woud bustle and stir in a trice,
What more would Nelly then
have
Or wert thou transmuted
into a milk churn,
I'd then be your staff on your beam ?
My milk I would yield,
lovely maid in my turn,,
And give for. your butter my cream
ROGER AND MOLLY.
Beneath a weeping willow's
shade,
Melting with love, fair Molly laid,
Her cows were feeding by.
By turns she knit, by turns she sung,
While ever flowed from Molly's tongue,
'' How deep in love am I."
Young Roger chanced to
stroll along,
And hearing Molly's amorous song,
And now and then a sigh.
Straight o'er the hedge he made his way,,
And join'd with Molly in her lay,
" How deep in love am I."
BURNS' MERRY MUSES.
71
The quick surprise made
Molly blush ;
" How rude," she cried, "
now pray be hush."
But showed a yielding eye ;
'* My needle's bent, my worsted's broke ;
Roger, I only meant in joke,
How deep in love am I."
" Your'e rude,—get out,— I
won't be kissed ;
Pray don't —yes do,—begone,—persist;
Roger, I vow I'll cry.
What are you at, you roguish swain ? "
He answered in a dying strain,
'* How deep in love am I."
THE VIGOROUS COURTEZAN.
Come hithf r, my boy, and
down by me lie,9
My smock it is clean, and behold my white thigh,
Survey my soft belly, that's both soft and plump,
And besides I'm all hair from my-----to my rump.
The lips of my quim red as
cherries you see,
And its cockles as juicy as juicy can be ;
But stroke it, and pat it,
and f-----it apace,
And the —— that is in it
will fly in your face.
Come lay your leg over, and
be not so coy,
You son of a whore, you
f-----just like a boy ;
You have put it in double,
I feel it run blunt;
It's a shame such------should e'er enter my------.
But, since it is in, I pray
wriggle thine-----,
I'll lather your b-----and
empty your tarse,
I'll spoil you from
shagging these ten days nor more.
And call you a hook------son of a whore.
As stung with reproaches
the amorous youth
Lay panting with passion he told her the truth ;
Says he, my dear Molly, in haste I let fly,
On the thatch of
your------, and beslobbered yonr
thigh.
But raised by your hand,
put it up to the hilt,
My-----shall wag, and I'll
double your milt,
I'll give you such thrusts
as you ne'er had before,
Or call me a fumbling son of a whore.
72
burns' merry muses.
Then pray put that pillow
plump under my-----,
And with a good home push,
push in your stiff tarse,
I'll straight raise your mettle, and tickle your cods,
Till in f------you rival the king of the gods
Alcemna, nor Leda, nor Io,
by Jove,
Were half so well f-----as
I then by my love ;
Sure Jove was in s-----a
fumbler to him,
For he turned up my liver
and made my------swim
THE BOTTLE.
Whate'er may squeamish
lovers say,
A mistress I've found to my
mind,
I enjoy her by night and by day
Yet she grows still more
lovely and kind,
Of her beauties I never am cloyed,
Though I constantly sit by
her side,
Nor despair her because she's enjoyed,
By a legion of lovers
beside.
For though thousands may
broach her,
May broach her, may broach
her,
By Jove I shall feel
Neither envy nor spleen.
Nor jealous can prove
Of the mistress I love,
For a bottle, a bottle,
A bottle's the mistress I
mean
Should I try to describe
all her merit
With her praises I ne'er
should have done.
She's brim full of sweetness and spirit,
And sparkles with freedom
and fun.
Her nature's majestic and tall,
And taper her bosom and
waist;
Her neck long, her mouth round and small,
And her lips how delicious
to taste.
For though, etc
You may grasp her with ease
in the middle,
To be opened how vast her delight.
BURNS*5 MERRY
MUSES.
73
And yet her whole sex is a
riddle,
You can never stop her too tight.
When your engine you once
introduce
To her circle, her magical bower,
Pop—away from within flies
the juice,
And your senses are drowned in a shower.
For though, &c.
But the sweetest of
raptures that flow
From the delicate charmer I
prize,
Is sure when her head is laid low.
And her bottom turned up to
the skies.
Stick to her, and fear not to win her,
She'll never prove peevish
or coy,
And the farther and deeper you're in her.
The fuller she'll fill you
with joy
For though, etc.
Thus naked, and clasped to
my arms,
With her my soft moments
I'd spend,
And revel the more on her charms,
To share the delight with a
friend.
To divinity, physic, or law,
Her favours I never shall
grudge,
Though each night she may a make faux pas
With a bishop, a doctor, or
judge.
For though &c.
THE LITTLE TENEMENT.
0, I've a tenement to let,
I hope 'twill please you
all,
And if you'd know the name of it,
I,ve called in Sportsman's
Hall.
This tenement I wish to let
To one who can it fill,
It's seated in a pleasant grove,
Beneath a rising hill.
%*
There's round about a
pleasant wood,
To shade it from the sun ;
And underneath, a water spring,
That pleasantly doth run.
^
74
burns'
merry muses
It is a well contrived
spring,
Not little nor too great,
Where if yon're hot you may be cool,
If cold, you will find
heat.
This place is very dark by
night,
And so it is by day,
But once you've fairly entered it,
You cannot lose your way.
When once you're in, go boldly on
As fast as e'er you can,
And if you rsach to t \e housetop,
You'll be where ne er was
man.
On two raised pillars
''"and this house,
Yet though so higl
the door,
You can't get fairly '
unless
you creep upon all
>ur.
Yet let not this disc
-age you,
For ere you long a there, -
What though your f
dture be large,
Y'ou'll find you've
om to spare.
I want a tenant ver;
mch,
To occupy my bo
And if he is of the r
sort,
He may have it f<
i hour.
He must be young ?
goodly hung,
And comely to th
j;lit;
But above all the tt
t must
In one thing be u
.'lit.
JACK OF ALL ADES
Sometimes I am a ^
er,
I weave both coa
md fine.
And for to please n
istomers,
It is my whole d>
In there came a pr*
,>irl.
All for to weave
veb,
I threw her across
'eadle-hoie,
Where all my tat
: wag.
burns' merry muses.
75
Sometimes I am a shoemaker,
I work with Venus bones,
And for to keep my leather fresh,
I've got a pair of stones.
Sometimes I am a baker,
I bake both white and
brown,
And I carry the best rollin pin
That is in all the town.
Sometimes I am a barber,
To dress the ladies fair;
I lather with my barber's pole
None with me can compare.
With my curling-tongs so
hot, sir,
So well as you may see,
And so well I can dress up,
A lady's low toppie.
Sometimes I am a
barn's-man,
I carry a good flail
Two supples and a hand-staff,
Well buckled to a tail.
And whene'er I meet a bonny
lass,
I lay her on the floor,
I put my hand-staff in her------.
And my supple bars the
door.
76
BURKS' MERRY MUSE&
IRISH.
FANNY'S BLACK JOCK.
As Fanny one evening I met
in a grove,
Every look, every gesture, inclining to love,.
With a black jock and belly
so white-
With an amorous intention I
quickly drew nar,
Dear Fanny, I whispered, your lover is here,
The birds tell no tales, and there's nobody by,
And you know that this long time I've had an hawk's
eye
On yonr black jock, &c.
She seemed quite displeased
and feigned a fright,
And in passion declared I should ne'er get a sight
Of her black jock, &c„
Dear Fanny, I answered,
pray he not so eoyy
While June's in its blossom love's impulse enjoy,
No counterfeit frowns shall restrain my desire,
For an Irishman never was known to retire
From a black jock, &c.
Love's impulse with
pleasure she seemed to obey,
Lor she handled my stiff thing and led it the way
To her black jock, &c
And who can describe the
soft transports we felt,
When in love's glowing flames every limb seemed to*
melt,
At one moment she died, and the next she survived,
When in oceans of pleasure transported I dived
In her black jock, &c.
At length a soft sigh and a
satisfied kiss,
Announced the sweet end of my banquet of bliss
In her black jock, &s.
All thrilling and panting
awhile we remained,
In fetters ecstatic our limbs were enchained,
Till roused from her transport she bid me adieu,
And we then only parted our joys to renew
In her black jock and belly
so white.
burns' merry muses
77
THE ORIGIN OF THE POX.
Kiv, the world was yet
troubled with dry-drinking
elves,
And ----, unconfined, ran
about by themselves,
In frolicsome humour of
merry Old Nick,
Once dressed himself up in
the shape of a------
Derry down, &c.
With red flaming looks, so
important and big,
With his hair frizzled out like an Alderman's wig,
With one eye that's squinted both dreadful and qu^er
Derry down, &c.
His arms and its tackling
he hung on ^ach side,
I'eradventnre lest ill on his journey betide,
And quoth he (for something
he's thought of a wag),
Like David I'll carry my
stones in a bag.
erry down, &e.
Thus equipped he set ont,
full as lech'rous as Jove,
To see how things went on in the regions above,
But he had not got more than a mile on the land.
When a nasty black
hang-gallows------bid him stand.
Derry down, &c.
80 I do (cried Old Nick),
and cocked his one eye,
But take this as a lesson
betwixt you I,
If you don't get away I
shall damnably scratch you;
But all -----replied was.
Old pintle have at you.
Derry down, &c,
So to f------both went, yet
would neither give o'er,
He pushed and she pulled,
and he sweat and she
swore.
[blows,
Till at length he cried
out, Pray desist from your
For look you, says P------,
how I bleed at the nose.
Derry down, &c
Thus ended at length this
most terrible fray,
When Satan went cursing and limping away,
And swore that for------he
no longer would roam,
But contented would stay
and f-----furies at home.
Derry down, &c.
78.
BURNS? MERRY MUSES.
THE GREY JOCK.
As lately round Dublin Basin I walked,
1 met a young bunter and to her thns talked
Of a grey jock and belly so white.
Your------, you young
hnssey, is as grey as a cat,
Why, you dirty-faced thief,
and what signifies that ?
If it's sable without, it is scarlet within ;
1 ome, lug out your drumstick, and slip it well in
To my grey jock and belly so white.
I laid her down gently upon
a greenspot,'
My pistol I cocked with a brace of ball shot
At her great jock and belly so white.
What, only one shot, why I
laugh at your folly,
Says she7 here's
a quim that can stand a whole volley,,
And though you can------as
well as a Turk*
A peck of such-----will not
do half the work
Of my grey jock and belly
white
Drive gently, she cried,
for my c-----5s very sore,
Lie easy, my darling, or
I'll bodder the more
At your grey jock and belly so white.
Then she cried, I will
spend, my dear by, till I'm
dead,
0 bravo, says I, my girl, very well said,
For your harbour of hope now lathers like soap,
And the hairs cf
your------bind me fast like a rope
To your grey jock and belly
so white.
With my fleshy battledoors
I'll pay your rump,
Till your buttocks rebound like large balls at each*
thump,
At your grey jock and belly
so white.
I'll bump at your orifice
with my stiff root,
I'll make you fine music with nature's sweet flute,
Throw c—s at your c—y like dice at backgammon,
Knock crab-lice off as large as scales of a salmon
From your grey jock and belly so white.
While thus I was bragging
she gave a great sigh,
Spent a deluge, and turned up the white of her eye,
And her grey jock and belly so white.
BOTt^ MERRY MUSES.
79
Dear Paddy, she cried, you
do the thing right,
Six times in three hours
you have f-----me so tight ;
I?or she lathered behind,
and I flowed freely before,
No quim in the nation could pleasure me more
Than her grey jock and belly so white.
LANGOLEE.
My name is McBrawn, from
the heart of Hibernia
I travelled by land a long
way o'er the sea,
And left all the girls round the Lakes of Killarney
In tears for the loss of my
dear Langolee.
Langolee how he charmed and delighted th^m !
Oh, how their virginity
melted at sight of him !
And how he entered their province in spite of them.
Bathing in nectar from dear
Langolee
Ye ladies of London, don't
let your mouths water,
But quickly for remedy
hasten to me,
I cure both the lonirings of mother and daughter,
And cram your dumb mouths
with my Langolee.
Langolee, oh, if you had but a lunch off him !
Oh you would be a mumbling
and munching him !
And in your pits over head ears drenching him
In the deep fountain of
Langolee.
Tho' sometimes he droops
like a rose in bad weather,
The sight of a lass makes
him brisk as a bee,
Then he shifts is red head from one side to ther other,
And stands up to please
you, does good Langolee.
Langolee, Langolee, so rampant and stout he is,
A good dozen inches from
root to the snout he is,
Just the boy to please the maids without doubt he is,
Oh, who can resist such a
Langolee ?
Take all the three kingdoms
and put them together,
'Tis Ireland's dear
creatures that keeps you in glee,
Arrah ! what signifies England or Scotland as
brothers,
They all must fall short of
my Langolee.
Langolee, all your wives teased with fumbling,
Your lasses who always lay
tossing and tumbling,
One dose of my cordial will make you leave grumbling5
And dance to the tune of my
Langolee.
80
BUKNS? MEKRY MUSES.
TAE IRISH ROOT.
Ye botanist yeild, I've
discovered a root7
Adapted to females of every
degree ,
How sovereign its virtues, balsamic its fruit.
I hope you belive when you
hear it from me.
Langolee i& the Irish name of it,
Great is this nation already's the fame of it;
Make but one trial, and quickly you'll see
There's nothing comparing to Langolee.
When winter's keen blast
are corrected by spring,
The lads and lasses of
every town
Dance round the Maypole, for Maypole's the thing
Expressive of Lango's high
frame and renown.
Langolee, wonderful medicine,
Sensitive plant and beggar's best benison,
How nappy's the Island productive by thee,
Thou root of all roots, thou Langolee I
Ye matrons afflcted with
colic or wind,
Hysterics or what you may call it for me,
Restorative Laugo, a
medicine you'll find,
' Twill enliven your spirits most wondrausly.
Langolee, sweet is the
juice of it;
Gently compress it, and gently make use of it ;
In city or country,
wherever it be,
The sweets are the same of
my Langolee.
Ye girls in thh city with
nervous disorders,
If form declensions ye'd wish to be free,
Ye clear little gentles, pray take what I order?
The Hibernian colt's foot
called Langolee.
Langolee. to prevent imposition.
You'll get from none but the Irish physician?
Made up in triangular pills for admission.
The pectoral nostrum of langolee.
burns' merry muses.
81
TOASTS AND SENTIMENTS.
Cupid's pin-cushion.
The kejT that
let's the man in and the maid out
The grave that buries the
living and casts up the dead.
May the ladies suc-ceed
in all their under-taMmga.
The bird in the hand and
then in the bush.
The bird in the bush and
not in the hand.
The bird in the bush and
two stones hard by.
The female arithmetician
who multiplies by subtraction.
Love's picklock.
The ruling passion, be what
it will
The ruling passion governs
nature still..
The linen manufacture of
Ireland.
The cock in cover
The staff of life
May we have in our arms
whom we love in our hearts.
The star above the carter
No part of a woman, but the
whole of her.
The sportman's gap
A union of parts and h flow
of spirits.
May everything stand before
us but our bottle and
glass
The eye that weeps most wdien best pleased.
Long nights and merry tales.
The liberty of the press and a favourite volumn in the
sheets.
The sportman's wish, a rough stubble and a merry
pointer.
The road to a christening
Cupid's ring on the middle finger
The two friends that weep at parting.
The whole duty of man in sheets.
The rough road of love to the sweet waterfall.
The first game ever played at.
The cruel cobbler that ran his awl into his wife's belly,
knocked out his foreman's
brains, and hung his
apprentice's at the door.
82
burns' merry muses
The female surgeon that
extracts the marrow without
hurting the bone.
The agreeable rubs of life.
Here's of it, and to it,
and them that can do it.
And those that can't may they never come to it.
The magic monosyllable
Success to our ejectments in Love Lane.
May the horns of a buck never disgrace the brows of a
sportsman.
The hen pheasant that cocks her feathers when she feels
the shot.
The beagle that runs by nose, and not by sight
The foregoing completes the
Merry Muses as origi-
nally collected by Burns What follows is—first, the
original song, "John Anderson my jo," as it existed
prior to Burns's day, and second, the lovely and canty
lyric he substituted for it This is succeeded by two
Letters and a Poem of the Bard's, not hitherto printed-
burns' merry muses.
8
OHN ANDERSON MY JO.
[The version which existed
up to Burns' time.]
John Anderson my jo. John,
I winder what you mean,
To rise so soon in the morning,
And set up so latQ<
at e'en ?
You'll blear out all your e'en, John,
And why will ye do so ?
Come sooner to your bed at e'en,
John Anderson my jo ?
John Anderson my friend,
John,
When first you did begin,
You had as good a tail-tree
As ony ither man.
But now 'tis waxen auld, John,
And it waggles to and fro ;
And it never stands it lane now,
John Andarson my jo.
John Anderson my jo, John,
You can f-----where'er you
please,
Either in our warm bed,
Or else aboon the claise ;
Or you shall have the horns, John,
Upon your head to grow ;
That is cuckold's malison,
John Anderson my jo !
So when you want to f-----,
John,
See that you do your best,
When you begin to s------me,
See that you grip me fast;
See that you grip me fast, John,
Until that I cry Oh !
Your back shall crack, e'er I cry slack,
John Anderson my jo.
Oh ! but it is a fine thing
To keek out o'er the dyke,
But 'tis a muckle finer thing,
When I see your hurdles
fyke ;
When I see your hurdies fyke, John,
And wriggle to aud fro ;
'Tis then I like your chaunter-pipe,
John Anderson my jo.
84
burns'
merry muses.
I'm back it like a salmon,
I'm breasted like a swan,
^1 y wame it is a down cod,
My middle you may span ;
From my crown until my tae, John,
I'm like the new-fa'n snow
;
And 'tis a' for your conveniency,
John Anderson my jo.
The foregeing is a specimen
of a numerous class of
songs popular in Burns' day. It is taken from a song-
book published in 1782, which claims to contain "some
of the best songs in the language " and also that into
its pages no song has been admitted " where the words
are destitute of merit." This, as well^as many others
of a similar stamp, can^ht Bums' fancy, who, passing
them through the furnace of his glowing genius, puri-
fied them from all their grossnesa and obscenity, and
gave them to the wTorld pure and glorious gold, " an
heritage for all."
JOHN ANDERSON MY JO.
Written by Bums*
John Anderson my jo, John,
when we were first ac-
quaint,
Your locks were like the
raven, your bonnie brow was
brent,
But now your brow is bald,
John, your locks are like
the snow,
Yet blessings on your
frosty p«>w, John Anderson my
jo-
John Anderson my jo, John, we clamb the hill the-
gither,
And mony a canty day, John, we've had wi' ane
anither ;
Now we maun totter down, John, but hand in hand
we'll go,
And sleep thegither at the foot, John Anderson my jo
It is well that the reader,
after looking at the olden
form of "John Anderson my jo," should read the
burns' merry muses.
85
above beautiful
song—'"gold, pure and unalloyed,''
which Burns as substituted for utter grossness and
dirt Where, in the English language, is there so
pure and loveable a picture of happy wedded life?
Reader, wheu you now know out of what mire the
poet of Scotland had to pick up many of his best and
purest lyrics, bless his memory that the legacy he left
to the world was so rich, and pure, and precious.
LKTTKRS OF ROBERT BURNS,
NEVER
BEFORE PRINTED.
To Mr. Robert Ainslie,
W.S., Edinburgh.
Mauchllne, March 3rd, 1788.
My dear Friend,—
I am just returned from Mr.
Millar's farm.
My old friend, whom I took with me was highly pleased
with the bargain and advised me to accept of it. He
is the most intelligent, sensible farmer in the county,
and his advice has staggered me a good deal. I have
the two plans before me I shall endeavour to balance
them to the best of my judgment, and fix on the most
eligible. On the whole, if I find Mr. Miller in the
same favourable disposition as when I saw him last, I
shall in all probability turn farmer.
I have been through sore
tribulation and under much
buffeting of the Wicked One since I came to this
country Jean * I found banished like a martyr—for-
lorn, destitute, and friendless. All for the good old
cause. 1 have reconciled her to her mother. I have
taken her a room. I have taken her to my arms. I
* Jean Armour, who became
Mrs Burns, the faithful
and devoted wife of the poet.
86
BURNS5 MERRY
MUSES.
have given her a mahogany
bee!. I have given her a
guinea, and I have f-----d
her till she rejoiced with joy
unspeakable aud full of
glory. But, as I always am
en every occasion, I have been prudent and cautious to
an astonishing degree. I swore her privately and
solemnly never to attempt any claim on me as a hus-
band, even though anybody should persuade her she
had such a claim (which she had not), neither during
my life nor after my death. She did all this like a good
girl, and I took tho opportunity of some dry horse
litter, and gave her such a thundering scalade that
electrified the very marrow of her bones. Oh, what a
peacemaker is a guid
weel-willy p-----le ! It is the
mediator, the guarantee,
the umpire, the bond of union,
the solemn league and covenant, the plenipotentiary,
the Aaron's rod, the Jacob's staff, the prophet Klisha's
pot of oil, the Ahasuerus' sceptre, the sword of mercy,
the philosopher's stone, the horn of plenty, and Tree of
Life between Man and Woman.
I shall be in Edinburgh the
middle of next week.
My farming ideas I shall keep private till I see. I got
a letter from Clarinda yesterday, and she tells me she
has got no letter of mine but one. Tell her that I
wrote to her from Glasgow, from Kilmarnock, from
Mauchline, and yesterday from Cumnoch. as I returned
from Dumfries. Indeed she is the only pei^son in Edin-
burgh I have written to till to-day. How are your
soul and body putting up ? A little like man and wife,
I suppose.
Your faithful friend,
R.B.
To Mr James Johnson,
Publisher of the Scots' Musical
Museum, Edinburgh.
Mauchline, 25th May, 1788.
My dear Sir,—
I am really uneasy about
that money which
Mr Creech owes me per note in your hand, and I want.
burns' merry muses.
87
it much at present, as I am
engaging in business pretty
deeply both for myself and my brother. A hundred
guineas can be but a trifling affair to him, and 'tis a
matter of most serious importance to me. To-morrow
I begin my operations as a farmer, and God speed the
plough !
I am so enamoured of a
certain girl's profrolic twin-
bearing merit that I have given her a legal title to the
best blood in my body, and so farewell Rakery ! To
be serious my worthy friend, I found I had a long and
much loved fellow creature's happiness or misery
among my hands, and tho' Pride and seeming Justice
were murderous King's advocates on the one side, yet
Humanity. Generosity, and Forgiveness where such
powerful, such irrestiable counsel on the other side,
that a Jury of old endearments and new attachments
brought in a unanimous verdict not guilty. And the
Pannel. Be it known unto all whom it concerns, is in-
stalled and instated into all the Eights, Privileges,
Immunities, Franchises, Services, and Paraphernalia,
that at present do or in any time coming may belong
to the name, title, and designation ( remainder torn off).
Present my best compliments to (torn off), and please
let me hear by return of carrier
I am my dear sir, yours
sincerely,
Robt. Burns.
LIBEL SUMMONS.
In truth and honour's
name—Amen.
Know all men by these Presents plain,
This Fourth o' June, at Mauchline given,
The years 'tween eighty-five and seven,
We fornicators by profession.
As per extractum from each session,
In way and manner here narrated,
Pro bona amor congregated,
And by our brethren constituted,
A court of equity deputed.
88
BURNS'
MERRY MUSES
With special authorised
directions,
To take beneath our strict
protection.
The stays-out-bursting
quondam maiden,
With growing life and
anguish laden,
Who by the rascal is
deny'd,
That led her thoughtless
steps aside,
He who disowns the rum'd
Fair one,
And for her wants and woes
does care n< ne,
The wretch that can refuse
subsistence,
To those whom he has given
existence.
He who when at a lassie's
by-job,
Defrauds her wi' a fr- g or
dry b—b,
The coof that stands on
clishmaclavers,
When women haflins offer
favours,
All who in any way or
manner,
Disdain the Fornicator's
honour,
We take cognisance
thereanent,
The proper Judges
competent.
First Poet B-----s, he
takes he chair,
Allow'd by a' his title's
fair,
And pass'd nem con.
without discussion.
He has a duplicate*
pretension
Next, Marchant Smith, our
worthy Fiscal,
To cow each pertinacious
Rascal;
In this, as every other
state,
His merit is conspicuous
great.
Richmond, the third, our
trusty Clerk,
The minutes regular to
mark,
And sit, dispenser of the
law,
In absence of the former
twa
The fourth our Messenger at
arms,
When failing all the milder
terms.
Hunter, a hearty, willing
brother,
Weel skill'd in dead and
living leather. (1)
Without Preamble less or
more said.
We body politic aforesaid
* His "Bonny Jean," who
became his wife, pre-
sented him with twins, 3rd September, 1786. Although
the Court met on the 4th June, 1786, this funny report
of its proceedings must have been written subsequent
to September.
(1) MS. A tanner.
burns' merry muses.
89
With legal due whereas and
wherefore
We are appointed here to
care for.
The interests of our
constituents,
And punish contravening
truants,
Keeping a proper regulation
Within the lists of
Fornication.
Whereas our Fiscal, by
petition,
Informs us there is strong
suspicion,
You coachman (2) Dow, and
clockie (3) Brown,
Baith residenters in this
town,
In other words, you Jock
and Sandy,
Hae been at wark at
Houghmagandie ; (4)
And now when facts are come
to light,
The matter ye deny outright
First you, John Brown,
there's witness borne,
And affidavits made and
sworne,
That ye hae bred a
hurly-burly,
JBout Jeany
Mitchell's tirlie-wirlie,
And blooster'd at her
regulator,
Till a' her wheels gang
clitter-clatter ;
And further still, ye cruel
Vandal,
A tale might even in hell
be scandal,
That ye are made repeated
trials,
Wi' drugs and draps in
doctor's phials,
Mixt as ye thought wi' fell
infusion,
Ye ain begotten wean to
pooison,
And yet ye are sae scant o'
grace,
Ye daure to lift your
brazen face,
And offer to take your
aith,
You never lifted Jeany's
claith.
Hut tho' ye should yourself
man-swear.
Laird Wilson's sclates can
witness bear,
Ae e'ening of a Mauchline
fair,
That Jeany's masts they saw
them bare,
(For ye had furl'd up her
sails),
And was at play —at heads
and tails.
Next Sandy Dow, you here
indicted,
To have, as publicly you're
wyted,
Been clandestinely upward
whirlin',
The petticoats o' Maggy
Borelan.
(2) MS. A coachman.
(3) MS. A
clockmaker.
(4) Fornication.
90
BURNS7
MERRY MUSES".
And gi'en her canister a
rattle,
That months to come it
winna settle ;
And yet ye offer your
protest,
Ye never herried Maggy's
nest,
Tho' its weel kenned that
at her gyvel,
Ye hae gi'en mony a kytch
ann kyvel,
Then Brown and Dow before
design'd,
For clags and clauses there
subjoined,
We court aforesaid cite and
summon,
That on the fifth o' July
cumin'
The hour o' cause in our
court ha',
At Whitefoord's arms ye
answer Law,
This, mark'd befoie the
date and place is,
Sigillum est, per
B-----s the Presses.
This summons and the signet
mark,
Extractum est per
Richmond, Clerk.
At Mauchline, idem date of June,
'Tween six and seven the afternoon,
You twa in propria persons,
Within designe'd Sandy and Johnny,
This summons legally have got,
As vide witness under wrote,
Within the house of John Dow, Vintner,
Nunc facio hoc.
Guillemus Hunted.
FINIS,.
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