B 3 13D TDB 
 
 
 
LIBRARY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA. 
 
 Class ^ ) ^ 
 
Z il^evv Boofe of 
 ©lb Ballabs. 
 
 SS^lS^Wfi! 
 
Of this edition only 75 large-paper and 275 small- 
 paper copies are printed for subscribers.. 
 
Bibliotbcca Cuviosa. 
 
 a inieM B®®ik 
 
 OF 
 
 L'.^--* .^. 
 
 ^TbraTTT' 
 
 OF 
 
 Edittd by 
 UNIVl ... i'Y IjAMES MAIDMENT 
 
 
 RS. 
 
 ANO 
 
 Revised by 
 
 EDMUND GOLDSMID, F.R.H.S., 
 
 F.S.A. (Scot.) 
 
 PRIVATELY PRINTED, EDINBURGH. 
 
 1885. 
 
(i&ri^innl ^rt'fnce. 
 
 The chief attraction of the present Col- 
 lection consists in the recovery of carlv 
 versions of two or three popular Scotish 
 Ballads, which, passing through the 
 barber-ons hands of Allan Ramsay or other 
 renov^ators of ancient garments, have, like 
 the silk stocking of Sir John Cutlar, 
 retained very few portions of their original 
 texture. 
 
 Thus "Scornful," (termed by Ramsav 
 "Bonny") Nancy, is essentially different 
 from the song introdued to the notice of 
 the public in the Tea-Table Miscellany, 
 and the recover}' of the original ballad 
 establishes, in spite of Mr Stenhouse's 
 observations to the contrary,* that the 
 lady had not escaped intact from the poet's 
 embraces. It is singular that the dialect 
 
 * See page 9. 
 
 102442 
 
vi (fi^rtgciial ^Jrrfarr, 
 
 used in the original is peculiar to Aber- 
 deenshire, a circumstance which would 
 tend to fix the locality there, and lead to 
 an inference that the author belonged to 
 that district of country. 
 
 The modern edition of " No Dominies 
 for me Lady," has not more than three or 
 four lines of the one here printed, and it 
 may be noticed that it also differs very 
 essentially from an original, perhaps unique, 
 broadside of the Ballad, in possession of 
 the Editor. It has been suggested that the 
 word should be Laddie^ not Lady — but as 
 the latter occurs in the MS. as well as in 
 the broadside, it was not deemed ex- 
 pedient to adopt the emendation, however 
 ingenious. 
 
 It is proper, however, to give some 
 account of the MS. whence the first ten 
 Ballads have been taken. It is in the 
 hand-writing of William Hamilton, younger 
 of Airdrie, and forms a few leaves, pre- 
 fixed to a small oblong duodecimo, con- 
 taining almost entirely Notes of Lectures 
 on Physic by Professor Tran of the 
 
<©ri8inal iJrrfarr. vii 
 
 University of" Glasgow, from 1699 to 1700 ; 
 the remaining two or three leaves con- 
 sisting of" "a Catalogue of Books left at 
 Airdrie bv W. H." and a memorandum of 
 books lent. 
 
 The manuscript is now in possession of 
 the great-grandson of the former owner, 
 Sir William Hamilton of Preston, Bart., 
 who kindly gave the uncontrolled use of 
 it to the Editor. The Ballads w*ere evi- 
 dently written down by Mr Hamilton 
 when at College, and probably when 
 . recording them, he little imagined that 
 they would eventually turn out to be the 
 more interesting portion of his MS. The 
 rest of the Collection consists of a few 
 Ballads and Fragments, two or three of 
 which were taken down from recitation, 
 and the remainder from scarce broadsides. 
 It mav here be remarked that the " Car- 
 dinal's Coach Couped " refers to the 
 Toleration Act, by which the persecuted 
 Episcopal Clergy got some relief. The 
 case of the Reverend Mr. Grcenshields, 
 which had been determined in favour of 
 
viii <!5rtginal ^rrface. 
 
 the Presbyterian Inquisition by the Court 
 of Session, was taken by appeal to the 
 House of Lords, and there reversed. The 
 disclosures attendant upon the discussion 
 of this suit revealed to those in England 
 the intolerable hardships to which their 
 brethren in Scotland were exposed, and 
 the Legislature interfered in their behalf. 
 For an account of the whole proceedings, 
 the Reader may be referred to the valuable 
 History of the Scottish Episcopal Church 
 from the Revolution, by John Parker 
 Lawson, M.A. Edinburgh, 1843, p. 196. 
 By the Cardinal, Principal Carstairs, the 
 head of the Presbyterian party is meant ; 
 it was the sobriquet usually applied to 
 him by the Jacobites. 
 
 Some of the lines may shock the fas- 
 tidious, but as the volume is intended for 
 private circulation, any apology for giving 
 the different versions without castration 
 seems unnecessary. 
 
 3 London Street, No-vember 1843. 
 
A NEW BOOK OF OLD BALLADS. 
 
 I. 
 
 Bl^tbc 3oc\\\c: 
 
 Blyth Jockie young and gay, 
 
 He's all my heart's delight- 
 He's ail my thoughts by day, 
 
 And in my dreams by night. 
 If from the lad I be, 
 Its winter then with me : 
 But while he's with me here, 
 Its summer all the year. 
 
 When Jockie and 1 did meet 
 
 First in the shady grove, 
 How kindly he did me treat, 
 
 And sweetly talk't of love. 
 
 * Blyth Jocky is given in Johnson's Scotish Musical 
 Museum, vol. i. No. 24, with different and very 
 inferior words. In the notes, p. 23, it is said both 
 "the air and words of this Anglo-Scotish Song are 
 comparatively modern." It was inserted in the first 
 edition of Horsfield's Songster's Companion. 2 vols. 
 
 1 2mo. London, 
 
 1770. 
 
 A 
 
A New Book 
 
 Ve are the lass, said he, 
 That stoll my heart from me. 
 Come ease me of my pain, 
 And doe not me disdain. 
 
 I'm blyth when Jockie comes, 
 
 Sad when he goes away ; 
 It's night when Jockie gloums, 
 But when he smiles it's day. 
 Where e're we meet I pant, 
 I colour, sigh, and faint, 
 What lass that would be kind, 
 Can better tell her mind. 
 
 He was a bonnie lad 
 
 As ever I did see, 
 He made a heart soe glad, 
 
 WTien first he courted me. 
 I could not well deny. 
 But soon I did comply. 
 Soe Jockie promis'd me 
 That he would faithful be. 
 
 Jockie did promise me 
 
 That he would still prove true 
 But to my grief, I fear. 
 
 He hath bid me adieu. 
 Jockie and I did play, 
 And pass the time away ; 
 But now he's false, forsworn, 
 And left me here to mourn. 
 
of Old Ballads. 
 
 Now Jockie hath a love, 
 That is more rich than I, 
 
 He doth soe cruel prove, 
 To shun my company, 
 
 And if I chance to meet, 
 
 My Jockie in the street, 
 
 He will not stop nor stay 
 
 But proudly goes away. 
 
 My heart is like to break, 
 
 Since he is so unkind. 
 What course, then, shall I take 
 
 To ease my troubled mind. 
 I sigh, I sob, I mourn, 
 I dayly rage and burn, 
 But yet this cruel he 
 Laughs at my misery. 
 
 Once in a month, he sends 
 
 A letter unto me 
 Vowing he still intends 
 
 To love me heartily. 
 But when I come in place. 
 And doe behold his face. 
 Then he noe notice takes. 
 Which makes my heart to break. 
 
A Nezv Book 
 
 II. 
 
 Xab^ Hrror^ Xamcnt. 
 
 When I'm absent from the lass that I love, 
 
 I fain would resolve to love noe more ; 
 My reason would my flames remove, 
 
 But my love-sick heart doth still adore. 
 My weak endeavours are all in vain, 
 
 They vanish so soon as she returns ; 
 And with a sigh relapse again. 
 
 Into a raging fever burns. 
 
 To the rocks and the hills I make my moan, 
 
 To whom my passion I doe tell, — 
 I fancied that I heard her moan 
 
 Her echoes back I lov'd so well,— 
 Leave off your passion, and do not pursue, 
 
 Lest it should end in misery ; 
 For she is in love, but not with you, 
 
 Why should ye then despair and dye. 
 
 * This Ballad is not to be found in any of the 
 Collections. Who the Lady Arrol (Errol) may be is 
 not very easy to say. There was a very naughty lady 
 of the Carnegie family that married the Earl of Errol, 
 and attempted his life. Her cause of dislike will be 
 found in a note prefixed to a ballad on the subject, 
 printed by C. K. Sharpc, Esq., in his Ballad Book. 
 
of Old Ballads. 5 
 
 \Vc may change coimtrey, and nol move 
 
 Our constancy and fervent love, 
 Though ye see ourselves ye know not our mindc, 
 
 We may be absent and yet kind ; 
 But I vow to thee, and (the) world shall see, 
 
 That absence shall never alter me, 
 My dearest dear doe ye the same. 
 
 We're parted, but we'll meet again. 
 
 My dearest let nothing trouble your heart, 
 
 For here I am returned again, 
 In order to cure that killing smart, 
 
 Whereof ye often did complain, 
 It's true I was banish'd from my love, 
 
 Which was great sorrow and grief to me, 
 But now I shall ever loyal prove, 
 
 Soe long as I keep my liberty. 
 
 Thou art my true and entire friend. 
 
 My chamber and all I have is thine. 
 There is noe bad thoughts shall me offend, 
 
 Thy love hath win this heart of mine. 
 Dry up your sighs and tears shee says. 
 
 And bid all sorrows and cares adieu. 
 Though fortune a while did us divide. 
 
 Vet I fancy none in the world but you. 
 
A New Book 
 
 III. 
 
 IRo 2)om(niC0 for mc Xat)?; 
 
 No Dominies for. me Lady, no Dominies for me, 
 For books and gouns will all go doun, 
 
 No Dominies for me, 
 They can court and complement, 
 
 But they ne're conquer me Lady, 
 rie keep the fifth commandement ; 
 
 No Dominies for me Lady. 
 
 My parents will not give consent, 
 
 To match with Dominies Lady, 
 
 Soe I 'le keep the fifth comniandement ; 
 No Dominies for me Lady. 
 
 ■* In Johnson's Musical Museum, vol. v. 504, there 
 is a copy of a ballad entitled "No Dominies for me. 
 Laddie," said to be taken from Yair's Charmer, 
 vol. ii. p. 347. Edin. 175 1. Ritson, who inserted it 
 in his collection, was unable to discover the tune ; but 
 the late James Balfour, Esq., Accountant in Edin- 
 burgh, communicated the original melody, and it has 
 been given in the first named publication. 
 
 It is said to have been written by the late Rev. 
 Nathaniel Mackie, Minister of Cross-Michael, who 
 died on the 26th January 1 781, aged 66, hut the 
 Editor has a broadside of the original ballad, printed 
 
of Old Ballads. 
 
 Stipends are uncertain rents 
 
 For lady's conjunct fee Lady. 
 
 Ministers make poor testaments ; 
 No Dominies for me Lady. 
 
 Lairds will take the place Lady, 
 
 Both at dore and mass Lady. 
 
 Lairds must sit, chaiplains must stand, 
 
 And bow and say the grace Lady. 
 
 To lairds ye seem to bear respect, 
 
 And Dominies disdain Lady ; 
 
 But a Dominie may chance to be 
 
 Your glory and your gain Lady. 
 
 Phisisians they your pulse can feel — 
 Your fever can allay Lady ; 
 
 But a Dominie can give a peil 
 
 That can your heart betray Lady. 
 
 certainly not later than 1700, and the copy from the 
 Hamilton MS. is at least as early in date. 
 
 In Buchan's Gleanings of Scarce Ok! Ballads, the 
 Rev. John Forbes, Minister of Deer, is said to be 
 the author. He died in 1769, in the 80th year of his 
 age. He must therefore have been eleven years of 
 age in 1700 — the date of the Hamilton MS. — a fact 
 which militates against the claim of authorship set up 
 for him. 
 
 Perhaps one or other of those reverend gentlemen 
 may have had a hand in altering the original ballad, 
 which is now for the first time printed. 
 
8 A Nezv Book 
 
 Stipends are uncertain rents I grant 
 
 For lady's conjunct fees lady ; 
 
 But ministers scarce ever want 
 
 Or theirs, and what would ye have Lady, 
 
 If revolutions they doe come, 
 
 Into the ministry Lady ; 
 Then Kirklands will goe back to Rome, 
 
 And your Lairds to poverty Lady. 
 
 Your parents may perhaps give consent, 
 To match with Dominies Lady : 
 
 Then ye the fifth commandement 
 
 May keep, and not despise Lady. 
 
 But if some other things fall in, 
 
 That they will still gainsay, Lady ; 
 
 Yet constancy will bear the gree, 
 
 And true Love keep alway Lady. 
 
 When Lairds and Gentlemen do fall 
 
 Into some heinous crime Lady, 
 
 Ye'll sigh and wring these pleasant hands ; 
 But alace its out of time Lady.* 
 
 * The printed broadside noticed in the former 
 note, differs essentially from the copy of the ballad 
 now printed. 
 
of Old Ballads. 
 
 IV. 
 
 SSonnic inancv\* 
 
 Nancy's to the Greenwood gain 
 
 To hear the gowdspink shattering ; 
 And Shamy followed her amain 
 
 To court her with his flattering, 
 liut a' his flattering wad nae dee. 
 
 She scornfuly reshect him ; 
 And fan he tid pekin to woo, 
 
 She speert fa tid begett him. 
 
 * This ballad occurs in Ramsay's Tea-Table Mis- 
 cellany, (13th Edition), 1 762, p. 17. The version is 
 the same as that given by Herd and Ritson. The 
 present copy is entirely different, and as the earliest 
 one known, is now for the first time printed. Ramsay 
 calls the lady slighted Nancy, to the tune of "The 
 Kirk wad let me be." Why she is designated 
 "slighted" in place of scornful, as Herd and Ritson 
 have it, or "Bonny" as the Hamilton MS. gives it, is 
 not easy to see ; for in place of being "slighted," she 
 is the party who slights her would-be spouse. 
 
 It is included in the " Orpheus Caledonius," and in 
 Johnson's Scottish Musical Museum, vol. i. No. 50, 
 under the name of "Scornful" Nancy. Mr C. K. 
 Sharpe, in a note, observes, he has an ancient MS. 
 subjoined to an early transcript of Dryden's Absalom 
 and Achitophel, which has a better reading. The last 
 line of stanza 3, makes "Shamy's" father ride "on 
 
 B 
 
lo Ji Nczv Book 
 
 Fatt ails thee at my dade, quoth hee, 
 
 My minny or my auntie, 
 With croudy moudy they fed me, 
 
 Lang kail and ranty tanty ; 
 And bannocks of guide gredden meal, 
 
 Of that we had great plenty ; 
 And noganes full of hacket kaile, 
 
 And fow kan that was dainty. 
 
 Although my faither was nae laird. 
 
 I speak it without bantrey ; 
 He keepit ay a guid kail yeard, 
 
 A ha hous and a pantry. 
 He ware a ponet on hims head, 
 
 Ane ourlar bout hims craigie ; 
 And to hims very dying day. 
 
 He rade ane ambling naigie. 
 
 And fatt although my minny baik 
 A bannock in here mister ; 
 
 She had a girdle and a baick-bord. 
 That she lent to her syster. 
 
 guid shanks nagie," whereas In his MS., (in like 
 manner with the version now printed,) the line 
 
 stands : — 
 
 "He rode an ambling naigie," 
 Mr Stenhouse, says (Scotish Musical Museum, p. 
 54.) — "This is one of the fine old and exquisitely 
 humorous Scottish songs which has escaped the polish- 
 ing file of Ramsay, and happily reached us in its 
 simple and native garb." 
 
of Old Ballads. II 
 
 Her callour body ys a clean, 
 And fite as any linnen [lilly ?] ; 
 
 And a green plaid, it may be seen, 
 Sae shee's nae gilter jilly. 
 
 On her side there is great pride, 
 
 Of that I think nae wondra ; 
 vShe busks hersell twice in the week. 
 
 And three times in the Sunday. 
 With pity coat and mantay coat, 
 
 And jampy coat like lilly; 
 And a green scarf to cover all, 
 
 Sae she's baith fair and comely. 
 
 Then Nancy turn'd here round about 
 
 With great disdain and scorn ; 
 And Shamie stood her in great doubt, 
 
 As hee had been forlorn. 
 Wae and vondra light on thee. 
 
 Wad thow have bony Nancy : 
 Wad thow compare thyself to me, — 
 
 A cow's turd to a trancy ? 
 
 I bid thee then goe hame, Gibb Glaicks, 
 
 John Jillets, or some other ; 
 Or els I fear thow gett thy paiks, 
 
 Goe ge be wall your father. 
 For I have a yonker of my own, 
 
 They call him souple Sandy ; 
 And well I wot he kens the gate 
 
 To play at hough-ma-gandy. 
 
12 u^ Nczc Book 
 
 V. 
 
 ^bc Sbcpber& of 2)ona/ 
 
 The vShepherd of Dona being wearied with sport, 
 To find some repose, to the woods did resort ; 
 He threw by his pipe, and he laid hmself down, 
 He envy'd noe monarch, he wished for noe crown. 
 
 He drank of the brook, and did eat of the tree, 
 Injoying himself, from all trouble was free ; 
 He call'd for noe nymph, were she never soe fair, 
 He'd noe love, noe ambition, and therfor noe care. 
 
 But as he lay thus, in ane evening soe cleare, 
 A pleasant sweet voyce outreached his eare ; 
 Which came from Arcadia, that old ancient grove. 
 Where the fair nymph Elreda frequented that cove. 
 
 ♦Termed the "Shepherd Adonis" in Ramsay's 
 Tea-Table Miscellany, p. US, (13th Edition), who 
 has interpolated and' altered, to suit his own fancy, 
 almost every stanza. It is now given from the 
 Hamilton MS. 
 
 It is inserted in Johnson's Musical Museum, and in 
 the notes, vol. ii. p. 148, has been attributed to Sir 
 Gilbert Elliot of Minto, Bart. This, it is presumed, 
 must mean the first Baronet, the founder of the 
 family, as the third Baronet, the author of the cele- 
 brated song, — • 
 
 "My sheep I neglected— I broke my shcjp hook." 
 WA% not horn for twenty years after the date of thr 
 Hamilton MS. 
 
of Old Ballads. i 3 
 
 As he lay thus, [reposing] and found she was there. 
 lie was quite confounded to see her see fair ; 
 He stood like a ston, not a foot he could move, 
 He knew not what ail'd him, but fear'd it was love. 
 
 That nymph she beheld him with a modest grace, 
 Seeing somewhat majestick appear in his face ; 
 Till with blushing a little, to him she did say, 
 Oh, good shepherd what mean you, how came ye 
 this way. 
 
 With reviving of spirits unto her he said, 
 
 I was ne'r soe surpris'd at the sight of a maid ; 
 
 Ay until I beheld thee of love I was free, 
 
 But now I'me ta'en captive my faire love by thee. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Mill? an& flDaric/ 
 
 Say's Willy, my uncle I'le beat, 
 rie trip his heels over the doore ; 
 Says Mary, brother's a cheat, 
 .•Vnd beside he's the son of a w'hore. 
 
 * This Jacobite production, which has considerable 
 merit, appeared originally in a coarser, but perhaps 
 wittier form, which was reprinted in the Aungevyle 
 Society's Reprints, Series I., p. . It is hardly 
 necessary to mention that it is a violent attack on 
 William III. and his Queen for putting on their 
 heads the Crown of Tame? II. 
 
14 A Nezv Book 
 
 We'l banish religion and nature, 
 For these be noe friends in the case, 
 But still we will cover the matter 
 With vizours and masks of grace. 
 
 Says Willie, I'le be a King, 
 
 Says Mary, I'le be a Queen ; 
 
 My uncle, said hee, 
 
 My dady, said shee, 
 
 We'l banish, and soe we shall reigne. 
 
 The trayterous party that murder'd 
 Our Grandfather Charle de Bonn, 
 Shall be rewarded and honour'd 
 For helping to banish his sone. 
 Thanks be to knavery and knaves, 
 Thanks be to presbitry and treason, 
 For these be the sanctified means 
 That gain'd us a croun, in good season. 
 
 Says Willie, I'le be a King, 
 
 Says Marie I 'le be a Queen ; 
 
 My Uncle, said he. 
 
 My Dady, said shee, 
 
 We'le banish, and soe we will reigne. 
 
 Blest be these Indejiendants, 
 That took off our Grandfather's head. 
 Let them be still our defendants 
 And our support in our need. . 
 
of Old Ballade. 1 5 
 
 For Presbitry hatched the egg, 
 Indepcndants the cockatrice nourish 
 A crown, though begott with a plague, 
 We care not soe longe as we flourish. 
 
 Says Willie, I'le be a King, 
 
 Says Mary, I'le be a Queen ; 
 
 My Uncle, said he. 
 
 My Dady, said she, 
 
 We'Ie banish, and soe we shall reigne. 
 
 Says Mary, our father we'll honnour. 
 
 It's true said the Marmaiden elfe. 
 
 Before that a crown hurts his head, 
 
 I'le dethron him and wear it myself; 
 
 For he is old and weak, 
 
 And we are young and souple. 
 
 And fitter than he for to reigne. 
 
 [The Devil] take the couple. 
 
 Says good old Jamy the King, 
 Says good old Jamy the Iving. 
 The heir of the crown. 
 Though depriv'd [of his own]. 
 Is fitter than thee for to reigne. 
 
1 6 J Netv Book 
 
 VII. 
 
 Zo Danton me/ 
 
 When I was wanton, young, and free, 
 I thought nothing could danton me ; 
 But the eighty-eight and eighty-nine, 
 And all the dreary years since sine ; 
 Retention, sess, and pole money, 
 Have done enough to danton mee. 
 
 To danton me, to danton mee, 
 
 I thought noe thing could danton mee ; 
 
 But the abdication of our King, 
 
 And Prelacy that sacred thing, 
 
 Usurping Prince and Presbytry, 
 
 Have done right much for to danton me. 
 
 To danton me, to danton me, 
 
 I thought noe thing could danton me ; 
 
 The abjuration of the test. 
 
 Apostles' creed and all the rest ; 
 
 Lord's Prayer and doxology. 
 
 Have done enough for to danton me. 
 
 * The tune taken from the first volume of Oswald's 
 Caledonian Pocket Companion, printed in 1740, 
 occurs in Johnson's Musical Museum, vol. ii. No. 
 clxxxii., p. 176, with words by Burns. In the notes, 
 p. 176, the old ballad is given, extracted from what 
 is termed "a very rare and curious little book," 
 entitled a Collection of Loyal Songs and Poems 
 printed in the year 1750. There nre only three stanzas 
 of it. It occurs also in Ritson. 
 
of Old Ballads. 1 7 
 
 I)Ut to wanton mc, to wanton nic, 
 
 There is yet something would wanton mc ; 
 
 Our Ilogen King he must goe owt, 
 
 With all his Hogen Mogen rowt, 
 
 And all the race of Presbytry, 
 
 And that I trow would w^anton me. 
 
 Would wanton me, would wanton mc, 
 There's yet a thing would wanton me ; 
 Our King restor'd to all his three 
 In health, peace, and prosperity ; 
 No cess nor press, nor Presbytry, 
 And that I trow would wanton me. 
 
 Would wanton me, would wanton mc. 
 There is yet something would w'anton mc : 
 To see good corn grow on the riggs 
 Of persecution on the whiggs : 
 And a Synod sett for Assemblies. 
 And that truly would wanton mc. 
 
1 8 A New Book 
 
 Vlll. 
 
 Bool for m? le^en/ 
 
 DoOL for my eyen that ever I have seen 
 
 Such a parcel of rogues in a nation, 
 Who's only designe is to plot and combine 
 For opposing a true reformation. 
 But the Pope and the Turk 
 Might find some easier work, 
 To establish their formes amang them, 
 Than these who take care 
 Such abuses to repair. 
 Such knaves 'twere no pity to hang them. 
 
 When the Tories and the Teagues 
 
 Had the charge of our craigs. 
 When the fox had the lanibe in protection ; 
 
 When tyrannical power 
 
 Did our statutes devour, 
 When our Court from a Priest took directign. 
 
 * In Hogg's Jacobite Relics, vol. i. p. 66, will be 
 found a Ballad on the Stewart side of the question, 
 entitled "Such a Parcel of Rogues in a Nation," 
 which consists of three Stanzas, and has considerable 
 merit. The present appears to be the Whig retaliation, 
 and bating one or two faulty lines, is not inferior to 
 the Tory song. 
 
of Old Ballads. 1 9 
 
 When our coyn and our pow'r 
 
 Wer consign'd upon a whore, 
 When Hell, France, and Rome had intended 
 
 To make us their slaves, 
 
 And our houses our graves, 
 They'r zealots wer ne'er discontented. 
 
 But our Prince who withstood 
 
 To his fortune, and blood, 
 Our laws and religion defending, 
 
 They defame, they oppose, 
 
 They'r the worst of his foes, 
 They'r-traytours, though loyal pretending. 
 
 They have settled theyr hope 
 
 On the Turke and the Po|>e, 
 With the Devil and the French to assist them ; 
 
 But though theyr strength made them boast, 
 
 They shall feel to theyr cost. 
 That he's too great a power to resist them. 
 
 Let them bragg what they got 
 From the English and Scott, 
 
 Att Aloyne, or at Agrim, or Deep too, 
 Or at Landau itself, 
 Though the fols fairy elf, 
 
 Had intended to catch them asleep km 
 
20 A Nciv Book 
 
 Could our armys fairly meet, 
 As it faired with the fleet, 
 
 Perhaps ye should see some disaster ; 
 They should lead such a dance, 
 To that Hector in France, 
 
 As our King at Aloyn did their master. 
 
 IX. 
 
 %ow 16 the cauee of ni? 
 flDourning/ 
 
 When first my poor heart, unacquainted with love, 
 Cupide with his bow and his arrow did move; 
 Soe sweet was the wound, and soe gentle did prove, 
 
 While as yet my poor heart was a bleeding. 
 I knew not what ailed me, yet something I found, 
 Which I ne'er found before, still the more did 
 
 abound ; 
 [For] Strephon, I knew, [kept] watch on theground, 
 
 Where his milky white flocks were a feeding. 
 
 * In Johnson's Musical Museum, Vol. ii. No. 109, 
 will be found the tune of "Love is the cause of my 
 Mourning," — the words are entirely different from 
 those now printed. The Version given in the 
 Orpheus Caledonius, (lyz*;), Ramsay's Tea-Table 
 Mi:>cellany and Johnson, has been attributcfi to 
 President Forbes. 
 
of Old BalliuU. 2 1 
 
 U Suepliou the brave, the gallant, and gay, 
 Soe sharp are his notes, and soe sweet he doth play, 
 That he charms all the nymphs in the plains all 
 the day, 
 And at night he doth keep my heart burning. 
 
 O cruel that custom that forbids to reveal, 
 A passion soe strong and soe hard to conceal, 
 To the deserts I'le goe, to the plains bid farewell, 
 Since love is the cause of my mourning, 
 Where the sweet nightingale 
 With dolful notes doth quell. 
 My longsome funeral 
 As shee 's flying ; 
 Caus tell the woods the secret Strephon tell, 
 The direful account of my dying.* 
 
 X. 
 
 ^bouohtlc66 Clora.t 
 
 Cloras full of harmless thoughts, beneath yon 
 
 well she lay, 
 Had love a youthful shepherd brought to pass the 
 
 time away ; 
 
 * There is evidently something wrong here, but the 
 Editor has given the verse as it occurs in the MS. 
 omitting one word before Strephon in the last line but 
 one, which is illegible. 
 
 •j- Thoughtless Clora is the worst in the Collection, 
 3nd h.irdly merits preservation. 
 
2 2 A iV^f^ Book 
 
 She blessed to be encounter'd so by that ena- 
 moured swain ; 
 
 But when she rose and strove to go, he pul'd her 
 back again. 
 
 A sudden passion siezed her then, and spite of 
 
 her disdain, 
 She found a pulse in every place, and love in 
 
 every vein ; 
 What passions this that youth betrays, in spite of 
 
 all surprise — 
 Don't lett me fall unless you please, and leave me 
 
 power to rise. 
 
 She fainting stood and tremblingly, for fear he 
 
 should comply; 
 Her lovely eyes her heart betray'd, and made her 
 
 heart to lye ; 
 And she who Princes had deny'd, with all their 
 
 pomp and train, 
 In that unlucky minute was betray'd unto the 
 
 [lucky ?] swain e. 
 
of Old BdlLuii. 2 3 
 
 XI. 
 
 Ubc /IDarquts of IfDuntlx^'s IRctrcat 
 troni tbc iKattle ot Sberitfinutr,* 
 
 From Bogie side to Bogie Gight, 
 
 The Gordons all conveenVl, man, 
 With all their might, to battle weight, 
 
 Together close they join'd man, 
 To set their King upon the throne, 
 And to protect the church, man ; 
 But fy for shame ! they soon ran hame. 
 And left him in the lurch, man. 
 Vow as the Marquis ran. 
 
 Coming from Dumblane, man ; 
 Strabogie did bes — t itself, 
 And Enzie was not clean, man. 
 Vow, &c. 
 
 Their chieftain was a man of fame, 
 
 And doughty deeds had wrought, man. 
 
 Which future ages still shall name, 
 And tell how well he fought, man. 
 
 * This very clever and spirited Ballad has been 
 introduced by Hogg in the second volume of his 
 Jacobite Relics from a very imperfect manuscript copy. 
 The present one is taken from the original broadside, 
 which is supposed to be unique, and belonged to Mr. 
 David Haig of the Advocates' Library. 
 
24 A Nczc Book 
 
 For when the battle did beghi, 
 Immediately his Grace, man, 
 
 Put spurs to Florance,* and so ran 
 By all, and wan the race, man. 
 Vow, (Sic. 
 
 The Marquis' horse was first sent forth, 
 
 Glenbucket's foot to back them, 
 To give a proof what they were worth, 
 
 If rebels durst attack them. 
 With loud huzzas to Huntly's praise. 
 
 They near'd Dunfermline Green, Man. 
 But fifty horse, and de'il ane mair, 
 
 Turn'd many a Highland clan, man. 
 Vow, &c. 
 
 The second chieftain of that clan, 
 
 For fear that he should die, man, 
 To gain the honour of his name, 
 
 Raised first the mutinie, man. 
 And then he wrote unto his Grace, 
 
 The great Duke of Argyle, man, 
 And swore if he would grant him peace. 
 
 The Tories he'd beguile, man. 
 
 * His horse so called from having been a present 
 from the Grand Duke of Tuscany. 
 
of Old Ballads. i :; 
 
 The Master* with the bullie's face, 
 
 And with the coward's heart, man. 
 Who never fails, to his disgrace, 
 
 To act a traitor's part, man. 
 Ilejoin'd Drumboig, the greatest knave 
 
 In all the shire of Fife, man. 
 He was the first the cause did leave. 
 
 By council of his wife, man. 
 Vow, &c. 
 
 A member of the tricking trade. 
 
 An Ogilvie by name, man ; 
 Consulter of the grumbler club, 
 
 To his eternal shame, man. 
 Who would have thought, when he came out, 
 
 That ever he would fail, man; 
 And like a fool, did eat the cow. 
 
 And worried on the tail, man. 
 Vow, &c. 
 
 * Master of Sinclair, whose Court-Martial has been 
 printed with an exceedingly interesting preface by Sir 
 Walter Scott, as his contribution to the Roxburgh 
 Club, — it is one of the most curious of the Club 
 Books. The Memoirs of the Master were under the 
 Editorship of David Laing and James Macnight, 
 published by the Abbotsford Club in 1838. 
 
 D 
 
26 A New Book 
 
 Meffan Smith,* at Sheriff Muir, 
 
 Gart folk beUeve he fought, man ; 
 But well its known, that all he did, 
 
 That day it serv'd for nought, man. 
 For towards night, when Mar march'd off, 
 
 Smith was put in the rere, man ; 
 lie curs'd, he swore, he bauld out, 
 
 He would not stay for fear, man. 
 Vow, &c. 
 
 But at the first he seemed to be 
 
 A man of good renown, man ; 
 But when the grumbling work began. 
 
 He prov'd an arrant lown, man. 
 Against Mar, and a royal war, 
 
 A letter he did forge, man ; 
 Against his Prince, he wrote nonsense, 
 
 And swore by Royal t George, man. 
 Vow, &c. 
 
 At Poineth boat, Mr. FrancisJ Stewart, 
 A valiant hero stood, man ; 
 
 * David Smith was then proprietor of Methven, an 
 estate in Perthshire. He died in 1735. Douglas, in 
 his Baronage, terms him, "a man of good parts, great 
 sagacity, and economy." 
 
 f Altered in MS. to "German." 
 
 I Brother to Charles, fifth Earl of Moray. Upon 
 his brother's death, 7th October 1735, he became the 
 sixth Earl. He died in the 66th year of his age, on 
 the iith December 1739. 
 
of Old Bnlladi. 27 
 
 In acting of a royal part, 
 
 Cause of the royal blood, man. 
 But when at Sheriff Moor he found, 
 
 That bolting would not do it, 
 He, brother like, did quite his ground, 
 
 And ne'er came back unto it. 
 Vow, &c. 
 
 Brunstane said it was not Jear 
 
 That made him stay behind, man ; 
 But that he had resolv'd that day 
 
 To sleep in a whole skin, man. 
 The gout, he said, made him take, 
 
 When battle first began, man ; 
 But when he heard his Marquis fled. 
 
 He took his heels and ran, ""man. 
 Vow, &c. 
 
 Sir James of Park, he left his horse 
 
 In the middle of a wall, man; 
 And durst not stay to take him out, 
 
 For fear a knight should fall, man ; 
 And Maien he let such a crack. 
 
 And shewed a pantick fear, man ; 
 And Craigieheads swore he was shot. 
 
 And curs'd the chance of war, man. 
 Vow, &c. 
 When they march'd on the Sheriff Moor, 
 
 With courage stout and keen, man ; 
 Who would have thought the Gordons gay 
 
 That day should quite the green, man. 
 
28 A New Book 
 
 Auchleacher and Auchanachie, 
 And all the Gordon tribe, man ; 
 
 Like their great Marquis, they could not 
 The smell of powder bide, man. 
 Vow, &c. 
 
 Glenbuicket cryed, plague on you all, 
 
 For Gordons do no good, man ; 
 For all that fled this day, it is 
 
 Them of the Seaton blood, man. 
 Clashtirim said it was not so. 
 
 And that he 'd make appear, man ; 
 For he a Seaton stood that day, 
 
 When Gordons ran for fear, man. 
 Vow, &c. 
 
 The Gordons they are kittle flaws, 
 
 They'll fight with heart and hand, man ; 
 When they met in Strathbogie raws 
 
 On Thursday afternoon, man ; 
 But when the Grants came doun the brae. 
 
 Their Enzie shook for fear, man; 
 And all the lairds rode up themselves. 
 
 With horse and riding gear, man. 
 Vow, &c. 
 
 Cluny* plays his game of chess, 
 As sure as any thing, man ; 
 
 * This seems rather Gordon of Cluny than Cluny 
 Macpherson. The estate of Cluny has passed from 
 the ancient race, though still possessed by a Gordon. 
 
of Old Ballads. 29 
 
 And like the royal Gordons race, 
 
 Gave check unto the King, man. 
 Without a Queen, its clearly seen, 
 
 This game cannot recover ; 
 I'd do my best, then in great haste 
 Play up the rook Hanover. 
 
 Vow as the Marquis ran, 
 Coming from Dumblain, man ; 
 Strathbogie did bes — t itself. 
 And Enzie was not clean, man. 
 Vow, &c. 
 
 XII. 
 
 ^tbc Cbeat ©etectcb ; or a 
 Ibint to lPoct0/ 
 
 To the Tune of " King f oh n and the Abbot of 
 CaJiterbtuy.'''' 
 
 I 'll tell you a story, pray gentles draw near, 
 Of Grseme and his ball for the future beware ; 
 
 * "By Miss Anne Keith, daughter (youngest) of 
 Mr. Keith, late Envoy at Russia, on the stupid 
 ingratitude of Edinburgh to Colonel Graham, who 
 gave the finest and most magnificent ball ever known 
 in Scotland, and got no notice taken of it." MS. 
 note on a copy of the original broadside, formerly in 
 the possession of the late William Boswell, Esquire, 
 Sheriff' of Berwickshire. 
 
 Those verses are from the pen of the lady who is so 
 
30 A Nezv Book 
 
 He has played you a trick that you little sus- 
 pected, 
 But rog'ry, like murder, is always detected. 
 Derry down, &c. 
 
 On the eighteenth what zeal in your faces was seen, 
 When summoned by him to drink health to the 
 
 Queen ; 
 You thought what he did was with upright design, 
 And all that you drank was the juice of the vine. 
 Derry down, &c. 
 
 Holyrood was illumined, enlivened each guest : 
 How brilliant the ball ! how superb was the Feast ! 
 How splendid the gall'ry when all went to sup ; 
 Ah ! who could have dreaded a snake in the cup. 
 Derry down, &c. 
 
 admirably delineated under the name of Mrs. Bethune 
 Baliol, by Sir Walter Scott, in the introduction to the 
 Chronicles of the Canongate. She was born in 1736, 
 and died in April 1818. Her death is noticed by Sir 
 Walter, in a letter dated i8th April of that year, 
 addressed to Terry, — "You will be sorry to hear that 
 we have lost our old friend, Mrs. Murray Keith. 
 She enjoyed all her spirits and excellent faculties till 
 within two days of her death, when she was seized 
 with a feverish complaint, which eighty-two years 
 were not calculated to resist. Much tradition, and of 
 the very best kind, has died with this excellent old 
 lady 5 one of the few persons whose spirits and clean- 
 liness, and freshness of mind and body, made old age 
 lovely and desirable." 
 
 Mr. Sharj)e, in a note on the song "Oscar's Ghost," 
 
of Old Ballads. 3 i 
 
 The Beaux were so witty, the Belles looked so 
 
 bright, 
 And Graeme and his Kitty so kind and polite ; 
 The Loves and the Graces so blended the whole, 
 That pleasure there reigned without check or 
 
 control. 
 
 Derry down, &c. 
 
 Who the deuce could have dreamt that from 
 
 Lethe imported. 
 Some hogsheads by Hermes were slily transported ; 
 The rogue of a Graeme brib'd the rogue of a God, 
 To convert all the wine with a touch of his rod, 
 Derry down, &c. 
 
 No. 70 of Johnson's Scotish Musical Museum, men- 
 tions that Miss Keith resided many years in Edin- 
 burgh, 51 George Street, keeping house with her 
 elder sister, Miss Jenny, and that Sir Walter Scott 
 told him the lady amused herself in her later years by 
 translating Macpherson's Ossian into verse. What 
 became of the MS. after her decease is not known. 
 
 These two ladies were daughters of Robert Keith of 
 Murrayshall, in the county of Peebles. One of their 
 brothers was Sir Robert Murray Keith, the ambassador, 
 and another. Sir Basil Keith, died Governor of 
 Jamaica. The papers and manuscripts of the former 
 gentleman were in the possession of the Earl of Hard- 
 wicke. Various particulars relative to the family occur 
 in Lord Lindsay's delightful Lives of the Lindsays. 
 Vol. ii. p. 188. ' 
 
32 A Nezv Book 
 
 When the whispering and ogling, and toasting 
 
 and laughing, 
 Little thought the poor guests what a dose they 
 
 were quaffing ; 
 But alas ! the effects may the dullest convince, 
 Oblivion and silence have reigned ever since. 
 Derry down, &c. 
 
 Prose writers were rendered unfit to tell facts, 
 Even truth was silenced by repeated attacks ; 
 Each poet and poetess had a deep dose, 
 There was gratitude lulled to a thorough repose. 
 Derry down, &c. 
 
 How long, cry'd the Graeme, will the charm have 
 
 effect, 
 Pray Heaven ! that no spy may the rog'ry detect ; 
 Friend Hermes, I've lost all the aim of my plot, 
 If me and my Ball are not henceforth forgot. 
 Derry down, &c. 
 
 For a fortnight 'twill last, on the word of a God, 
 Or I'll forfeit, says Hermes, my cap and my rod ; 
 A wonder, you know, can but hold out nine days, 
 And I'll give you five more to secure you from 
 
 praise. 
 Awake and revenge it ye dealers in rhyme, 
 Tho' late, let him rue such an unheard of crime ; 
 Let poems on poems be heaped up like Babel, 
 And poets like harpers encircle his table. 
 Derry down. Sec. 
 
of Old Ballads. 33 
 
 May iho wife of his bos(Mn in rhyme still address 
 
 him, 
 And his daughter beloved, with verses oppress 
 
 him ; 
 May the Muses and Phoebus unite to perplex him. 
 And grant me a patent poetick to vex him. 
 Derry down, i^c. 
 
 xni. 
 
 tTbc Min^? Miitcr.* 
 
 There lives a lass just at the Cross, 
 
 Her face is like the paper, 
 And she's forsaken Lairds and Lords 
 
 And ta'en a windy writer. 
 And he can neither write nor 'dite. 
 
 And is it not great folly, 
 We'll send him to the school again, 
 
 Sing cut and dry, Dolly. 
 
 Cut and dry's for gentleman, 
 
 And corn and hay for horses, 
 Salt and sugar for auld wives, 
 
 And bonny lads for lasses. 
 
 * These verses used to be sung by a lady who died 
 eighty years since at an advanced age. She men- 
 tioned they were popular when she was young, but 
 could give no explanation as to the parties referred to. 
 Her maiden name was Cunninghame, and she married 
 a Writer to the Signet of the name of Imlach, whom 
 she survived. 
 
34 ^ ^t-a' Book 
 
 And when he comes back fra' the school, 
 'Tis hoped he '11 be much brighter ; 
 
 So here's success to the bonny lass, 
 And her spouse the windy writer. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 pleasures of a Country Xife-* 
 
 You nymphs that will true pleasure learn, 
 There is no comfort in a churn, 
 The milk-maid sits beneath the cow, 
 While sheep doth bleat and oxen low ; 
 
 And if this is the pleasure of being a wife, 
 
 Fate defend me from a country life. 
 
 The team comes in, the ploughboy whistles, 
 The great dog barks, the turkey-cock bristles, 
 The ravens they croak, and the magpie doth 
 
 chatter, 
 And the ducks they cry Quack, quack, in the 
 water ; 
 And if this is the pleasure of being a wife, 
 Fate defend me trom a country life. 
 
 To live upon butter, with curds and whey, 
 Deliver me, I heartily pray, 
 
 * From a MS. formerly belonging to James Ander- 
 son, the Antiquarian, and now in the Library of the 
 Faculty of Advocates. 
 
of Old Ballads. 3 5 
 
 Lean beef and hot pork, for to mend the matter, 
 Brought in a slovenly great wooden platter ; 
 
 And if this is the pleasure of being a wife, 
 
 Fate defend me from a country life. 
 
 The hoggs they grunt for wash and swill, 
 In comes the dairy-maid, and calls for Will 
 To give them some meat to keep them from 
 
 bawling ; 
 The geese and the peacocks make such a 
 squalling ; 
 
 And if this is the pleasure of being a wife, 
 
 Fate defend me from a country life. 
 
 XV. 
 
 ITbc CarMnare Coacb 
 (^oupe^.* 
 
 Alas ! our Kirk has got a scoup 
 
 Upon her covenanted doup, 
 
 I fear she ran the gantland loup, 
 
 For all the Leagues, 
 The Cardinal has got a coup, 
 
 With's Dutch intrigues. 
 
 * The second title of this Ballad, as given in the 
 broadside preserved in the Library of the Faculty of 
 Advocates, is — '' The Whigs' Lamentation for the 
 Episcopal Toleration." It bears to have been printed 
 at London "by John Morphew, mdccxi. Price id." 
 
36 A Netiu Book 
 
 For fear Sacheverel should worrie 
 
 Our darling Kirk, he in a hurrie 
 
 Gets up, and cries Poor Folk of Currie 
 
 Again we'll be. 
 Unless you Sighing Sisters stir ye, 
 
 And join with me. 
 
 He made more haste than was good speed, 
 Poor man, he couped arse o're head, 
 For which our hearts were like to bleed, 
 
 When we it saw. 
 His very coach-horse out of dread, 
 
 Him would not tlraw. ;, 
 
 vSuch overturning is not common, 
 
 I fear it prove a fatal omen, 
 
 And rouse the courage of the Roman 
 
 And curate loons. 
 To Bothuel Bridge then we shall go, man. 
 
 Get they their gowns. 
 
 Alas ! our sport is like to spill, 
 Since we have lost our Billie Will, 
 A man may see of little skill 
 
 We'l be undone, 
 Get they a Toleration Bill, 
 
 We'l change our tune. 
 
 And truely I thinke it's no wonder, 
 Tho' we meet with a clap of thunder; 
 
oj Old Ballads. 
 
 Considering how great a blunder, 
 
 Of no old date 
 Say what we will, we labour under, 
 
 In Kirk and State. 
 
 For now the Government well sees, 
 We preach the things we don't practise ; 
 The gilded bait that dims our eyes 
 
 Is pride and self, 
 Tho' vanity we do idolize. 
 
 Yet more our self. 
 
 Again it's known that Presbytry 
 Can ne'er consist with monarchy ; 
 Our kingdom, crown, antiquity, 
 
 At last we sold, 
 A thing will make our memory 
 
 Stink when it's told. 
 
 Murder of kings or abdication, 
 
 Are most conspicuous demonstration 
 
 Of Presbyterian moderation. 
 
 We only want 
 To take the oath of abjuration 
 
 To make a Saint. 
 
 But now I see the Government, 
 With this Prelatick Parliament, 
 To cast us off are fully bent ; 
 
 So let us be 
 Upon our guard the more intent 
 
 Before we flee. 
 
38 A New Book 
 
 Saul in a strait to Witch of Endor, 
 And Sweden's king to Turk at Bender 
 Made their address ; so let us -render 
 
 What e're befall, 
 Our kirk and cause to one that's tender 
 
 Of our caball. 
 
 Then my advice if you will hear, 
 The fittest man is Major Weir ; * 
 Let's yelp and yell till he appear 
 
 With's staff in hand. 
 I think we need the less to fear 
 
 If he command. 
 
 He'll leave the gloomy shades below. 
 Some stratagem to us he'll show, 
 How we may reach a fatal blow 
 
 To Prelacie; 
 Or of our danger let us know 
 
 The certaintie. 
 
 With rousty rappiers in our hands, 
 Spades, forks, and graips, as we demand, 
 Like Egypt's locusts, thro' the land 
 
 We'll fill each place; 
 And march in covenanted band. 
 
 Like bales of grace. 
 
 And if we chance to loose the field, 
 Forc'd to the curat lowns to yield ; 
 
 * This person was executed at Edinburgh for 
 sorcery and magic. See an account of him in Scott's 
 Demonology. 
 
of old Ballads. 39 
 
 We'rtake^our heels for the best shield, 
 And from some sister, 
 
 Beneath her petticoat get bield. 
 In our great mister. 
 
 And yet I cannot shun to smile, 
 When I think on the canting stile 
 We used in our late exile, 
 
 To mend our breeks ; 
 For well I mind it all the while, 
 
 We grew like Greeks. 
 
 For our extemporary lecture, 
 
 We drank the purest of the nectar, 
 
 When once my lady's woman deckt her ; 
 
 And which was best, 
 The laird himself durst not us Hector, 
 
 Tho' her we drest. 
 
 You need not think I'm speaking lies. 
 Bear witness house of Cherry-trees, 
 Where Dainty Davy* strove to please 
 
 My lady's daughter; 
 And boldly crept beneath her thighs. 
 For fear of slaughter. 
 
 * The celebrated Davifl Williamson, minister of 
 the West Kirk, who, when pursued by General Dalyell's 
 troopers, was hid by the Lady Cherry-trees in her 
 daughter's bed, and availed himself of that opportunity 
 to add to the population. Cherry-trees is near Kelso, 
 and belonged to a family of the name of Murray. Hi^ 
 
4-0 A New Book 
 
 XVI. 
 
 [J FragffieNt.) 
 
 O ! all you ladies young and gay, 
 Who are so sweet and fair ; 
 
 Do not go into Chaster 's wood, 
 For Tomlin will be there. 
 
 Fair Margaret sat in her bonny bower, 
 
 Sewing her silken seam : 
 And wished to be in Chaster's wood, 
 
 Among the leaves so green. 
 
 She let the seam fall to her foot, 
 
 The needle to her toe; 
 And she has gone to Chaster's Wood 
 
 As fast as she could go. 
 
 exploit on that memorable occasion was celebrated in 
 a song called Dainty Davy, adapted to an old air of the 
 same name, still popular, and which appears in Play- 
 ford's Dancing Master, 1657. See Whitelaw's Book 
 of Scottish Sorg, Glasgow, 1843, p. 98. 
 
 * The following fragment of the interesting ballad 
 of Tom Linn or Tamlane was taken down from the 
 recitation of an old woman— it contains numerous 
 deviations from the copy printed in the Border 
 Minstrelsy, (Scott's Poetical Works, Vol. ii., p. ;?37,) 
 and on that account has been included in this little 
 volume. 
 
of Old Ballads. 41 
 
 \\Tien she began to pull the flowers, 
 
 She pull'd both red and green ; 
 Then by did come, and by did go, 
 
 Said " Fair maid let abene. 
 
 " O ! why pluck you the flowers, lady, 
 
 " Or why climb you the tree; 
 " Or why come ye to Chaster's wood 
 
 " Without the leave of me?" 
 
 " O! I will pull the flowers," she said, 
 
 " Or I will break the tree, 
 " For Chaster's wood it is my own ; 
 
 " I'll ask no leave at thee." 
 He took her by the milk-white hand, 
 
 And by the grass-green sleeve ; 
 And laid her down upon the flowers, 
 
 At her he ask'd no leave. 
 The lady blush'd and sourly frown'd, 
 
 And she did think great shame ; 
 Says, "If you are a gentleman, 
 
 " You will tell me your name." 
 " First they did call me, Jack," he said, 
 
 " And then they call'd me John ; 
 " But since I liv'd in the fairy court, 
 
 " Tomlin has always been my name. 
 " So do not pluck that flower, lady, 
 
 " That has these pimples gray; 
 " They would destroy the bonny babe 
 "That we've gotten in our play." 
 F 
 
42 J New Book 
 
 *' O ! tell to me, Tomlin," she said, 
 
 ** And tell it to me soon ; 
 " Was you ever at a good church door, 
 
 " Or got you Christendom ?" 
 
 " O ! I have been at a good church door, 
 '• And oft her* yetts within; 
 
 " I was the laird of Foulis's son, 
 " The heir of all his land. 
 
 " But it fell once upon a day, 
 
 " As hunting I did ride ; 
 " As I rode east and west yon hill, 
 
 " There woe did me betide. 
 
 " O ! drowsy, drowsy as I was, 
 
 " Dead sleep upon me fell; 
 " The Queen of fairies she was there, 
 
 " And took me to hersel. 
 
 " The morn at even is Hallow^e'en, 
 
 " Our fairy court will ride 
 "Through England and Scotland both, 
 
 " Through all the world wide; 
 ' ' And if that ye would me borrow, 
 
 " At Rides Cross ye may bide. 
 
 " Vou may go into the Miles Moss, 
 " Between twelve hours and one ; 
 
 " Take holy water in your hand, 
 " And cast a compass round. 
 
 * Sic. 
 
of Old Ballads. 43 
 
 " The first court that comes aloii^, 
 
 " You'll let them all pass by ; 
 " The next court that comes along, 
 
 ' ' Salute them reverently. 
 " The next court that comes along, 
 
 " Is clad in robes of green; 
 " And its the head court of them nil, 
 
 " For in it rides the Queen. 
 
 " And I upon a milk-white steed, 
 ' ' With a gold star in my crown ; 
 
 " Because I am an earthly man, 
 " I'm next the Queen in renown. 
 
 " Then seize upon me with a spring, 
 
 "Then to the ground I'll fa'; 
 "And then you'll hear a rueful cry, 
 
 " That Tomlin is awa'. 
 
 " Then I'll grow in your arms two, 
 
 ' ' Like to a savage wild ; 
 " But hold me fast, let me not go, 
 
 " I'm father of your child. 
 " I'll grow into your arms two, 
 
 " Like an adder, or a snake; 
 " But hold me fast, let me not go, 
 
 " I'll be your earthly maik. 
 
 " I'll grow into your arms two, 
 
 " Like ice on frozen lake; 
 " But hold me fast, let me not go, 
 
 " Or from your goupen l>reak. 
 
44 A Nezv Book 
 
 " ril grow into your arms two, 
 
 " Like iron in strong fire; 
 " But hold me fast, let me not go, 
 
 " Then you'll have your desire." 
 
 And its next night into Miles Moss, 
 
 Fair Margaret has gone ; 
 When lo she stands beside Rides Cross, 
 
 Between twelve hours and one. 
 
 There's holy water in her hand, 
 She casts a compass round ; 
 
 And presently a fairy band 
 Comes riding o'er the mound. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Cbe Xab^'6 Complaint/ 
 
 A Lady made a great complaint, 
 
 A little while ago ; 
 She seemed to be in great despair 
 
 About a cook or two. 
 
 But what's a nasty chreeshy cook, 
 
 To fill a heart with woe ? 
 When folks complain they never think 
 
 What others undergo, 
 
 * Written by Lord Binning, a3 to whom, sec Wal- 
 pole's Royal and Nob'e Authors. 
 
of Old Ballads. 45 
 
 These many years I've rid about, 
 
 And never had a skirt ; 
 So you may guess my petticoats 
 
 Have aye been in the dirt. 
 
 And dirt's a thing I cannot thole, 
 
 Vet dirt I must go thro' ; 
 I kenna how to get a skirt, 
 
 Or what to make it o'. 
 
 I fain wad wear a camblet skirt, 
 
 My petticoats aboon ; 
 But camblet's an untasty thing, 
 
 And it would wear out soon. 
 
 If I should make a washing thing, 
 
 It soon would flimsy be ; 
 And all the laughing loons would make 
 
 A laughing stock of me. 
 
 For any one who's making wabs, 
 
 It would be little work 
 To add some five or six plies 
 
 Of good Turk upon Turk. 
 'Twould last me a' my days, I'm sure, 
 
 And would look very douse ; 
 But then, I fear, I'd be a lump, 
 
 And look as big's a house. 
 I cannot make it to my mind, 
 
 To want it is a load ; 
 In short I must not ride at all, 
 
 And there's the upshot o'd. 
 
46 J New Book 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 ^be Downfall of Cocliburn'e 
 flDeetiuG Ibouee/ 
 
 To the Tune of " Come sit thee down my P hilts. ^^ 
 
 We have not yet forgot, Sir, 
 How Cockburn's kirk was broke, Sir ; 
 The pulpit gown was pulled down, 
 And turned into nought, Sir. 
 
 The pulpit cloth was rent, Sir, 
 Unto the Cross was sent, Sir ; 
 The boys that did convoy it 
 Were into prison put, Sir. 
 
 * The following song of triumph upon the destruc- 
 tion of the Episcopal chapel of the Rev. Mr. Cock- 
 burn in Glasgow has been carefully revised by Wodrow, 
 and is now in the Library of the Faculty of Advocates. 
 It is a most delighful specimen of the Presbyterian 
 muse, and is worthy of the important national event it 
 was intended to commemorate. "Curate" Cockburn, 
 as he was designated by his opponents, was a bitter 
 thorn in the side of poor "Wodrow, — he was zealous, 
 able, and popular, and had occasioned much annoyance 
 by his denying the validity of Presbyterian baptism, — 
 hence the destruction of his chapel or meeting-house, 
 as it was then contemptuously called, was a laudable 
 act in the eyes of the rigidly righteous. This striking 
 illustration of Puritanical zeal occurred in August 
 1 7 14. See the Wodrow Correspondence, vol. i., p. 
 562. 
 
of Old Ballads. 47 
 
 The Chess-windows they were broke, Sir, 
 Out o're the window cast, Sir, 
 With a convoy of holo hoi. 
 Unto the streets were sent. Sir. 
 
 The P'rench are disappointed, 
 Their wicked plots disjointed ; 
 Poor Cockburn he's affronted, 
 But the Whiggs they're advanced. 
 
 Long necked Peggie H[ome], Sir, 
 Did weep and stay at home. Sir; 
 'Cause poor Cockburn and his wife 
 Were forc'd to flee the toun, Sir. 
 
 And after they were gone. Sir, 
 They went to Stirling town. Sir ; 
 They thought with their heart and mind 
 To get poor Jamie home, vSir. 
 
 But they were disappointed. 
 And their wicked plots disjointed 
 We'll make them all run and cry, 
 Oh ! we're disappointed. 
 
 Their Highland King for fear. Sir, 
 Was put in such a steer, Sir, 
 W^e made his breeks have such stink, 
 That none could him come near. Sir. 
 
 Macdonald is his name. Sir, 
 Of him you may think shame, Sir ; 
 A Highlander whose name stinks, 
 You Popish rogue go home. Sir. 
 
48 A New Book 
 
 The Chess-window did reel, Sir, 
 Like to a spinning wheel, Sir ; 
 For Dagon he is fall'n now, 
 I hope he'll never rise, Sir. 
 
 Some say thir lines were compos'd 
 By boys in grammar school, Sir ; 
 What they've said, they are ador'd ; 
 Amen, so let it be, Sir. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 (5la6Q0W'6 Iparrat)/ 
 
 To the Tune of " The winter is cold^ ?ny 
 deeding is thin.''^ 
 
 Come all ye Protestants give ear to my song, 
 The ya^^(^//(f -party they thought to do wrong, 
 To have a Pretender our King for to be. 
 But they're prevented, we bless the most Hie. 
 
 Queen Ann is departed and Harlafs brought 
 
 down ; 
 King George is anointed and mounted the throne, 
 The Wliiggs. are advanced our heads for to be, 
 Much joy is expressed among the clergie. 
 
 * The Original, now in the Library of the Faculty 
 of Advocates, formerly belonged to Wodrow. From 
 its minute description of the proceedings at Glasgow, 
 on tlie occasion of the Coronation of George I., it has 
 been inserted in this little Collection. 
 
of Old BnJlnds. 49 
 
 The churches did meet, and thought on the same, 
 Appointed a day to thank and proclaim, 
 Goil's works to declare that wonderful! be, 
 Ascribing the praises unto the most Hie. 
 
 That he so appeared Iving Geofge to advance. 
 In spite of Pretemier, the Pope, and of France, 
 And all their complyers tho' they may be hie, 
 He'll give them defyance whatever they be. 
 The day is appointed his crown to set on, 
 These news are proclaimed in city and town, 
 All things are provided that necessar be, 
 For advancing the honour of his clemencie. 
 
 What might be their labour into other towns, 
 We cannot declare it, but in our own bounds; 
 And Glasgoxv the chiefest in every degree, 
 They may well declare the same who did see. 
 October the twenty, when day did begin. 
 The Magistrates mounted, and Nobles came in, 
 The burgesses met in every degree, 
 Appointed their way for solemnitie. 
 
 At twelve of the clock their drums they went throw, 
 Acquainted the people how that they must bow, 
 And yeeld with submission, what e'er might l)e, 
 The hopes that they had of bastard ya/y/zV. 
 
 At two afternoon they might well be seen, 
 So properly mounted, approaching the green, 
 With coUors display'd, in wind they did flee, 
 I dare well declare a pretty Meinzie. 
 
 r. 
 
50 J Nezv Book 
 
 With sword and with gun as clear as the steel, 
 And cocks on their hats, as set them full well ; 
 With ribban at sword as low as their knee, 
 With right pretty poses as ever might be ; 
 
 They planted their ground, so rested a while. 
 But e're it was long, they're heard off a mile 
 With oyes most loud, their hats they did flee, 
 And all was for joy, King George was so hie. 
 
 Before five o'clock they returned again. 
 Approached the town a right stately train ; 
 With flourished collors full pleasant to see, 
 The bells they did ring with sweet melodic. 
 
 Frae once they were planted each man at the cross; 
 There might none go by, on foot or on horse; 
 They did stand most stately as ever might be, 
 Their guns they discharged in highest degree. 
 
 The Magistrates stood, and their officers still, 
 And gave them their word what e'er was their will. 
 The same they obeyed in every degree. 
 Their swords they unsheathed, and hats they did 
 flee. 
 
 They sent up some men, and they took off the 
 
 cock 
 From off the Tolbooth, wherein stood their knock ; 
 They mounted a lamp as great as might be 
 With many great candles, that people might see. 
 
of Old Ballads. 5 • 
 
 The bon-fires burnt in all parts of the town, 
 For joy at King George they made this renown ; 
 Then lighted their candles so thick as might be, 
 Although a dark night, you money might see. 
 
 To ly on the streets, or to change if ye will. 
 For wine and good brandy to drink of your HI! ; 
 Vou needed no guides, what ever you be, 
 To lind out a lodging in all that citie. 
 
 The bells they did ring, the shots they did roar, 
 There was ne're a Scotsman the like saw before : 
 Such animose joy in every degree, 
 And all for King George his High Majestic. 
 
 I wish our Great Soveraign now on the throne. 
 
 Had been in brave Glasgoxo to see what was done, 
 
 For honour and joy of his Majestic, 
 
 That he was come over our King for to be. 
 
 The fires did burn till late in the night, 
 
 And candles continued still in our sight ; 
 
 No darkness nor grief at all we did see, 
 
 But each one rejoicing in every degree. 
 
 The gallants they travelled still up and down, 
 
 And still the brave bon-fires compassed round : 
 
 They drank the good wine in the highest degree. 
 
 And then the brave glasses they mounted full hie. 
 
 There was to be seen as ye passed along. 
 In many glass-windows the rest was among ; 
 In legible letters that any might see, 
 (lod save our King George in peace and safelie. 
 
52 A New Book 
 
 Some for their great honour the rest was above, 
 Whereby for their profit I hope it shall prove ; 
 Did keep a free table with so great plentie, 
 Where all was made welcome, what ever they be. 
 
 I pray you, brave Magistrats, pardon me all, 
 And also ye officers, both great and small ; 
 That order these men so pleasant to see, 
 For this my poor scribble to venture so hie. 
 
 For tho' I be not a great man of the state, 
 Nor yet a great lawyer for ending debate; 
 Yet I let you to know, whatever you be, 
 I pray for his Majesty as well as ye. 
 
 XX. 
 
 Said the Lord to his Lady, 
 
 Beware of Rankin ; 
 For I am going to England 
 
 To wait on the King. 
 
 * The following is from an MS. copy in the 
 possession of W. H. Logan, Esquire, derived from oral 
 tradition. It is exceedingly curious, as being quite a 
 new version of the old Ballad called "Lammikin," for 
 which see Finlay's Ballads, Vol. II., pp. 47 and 57, as 
 also Herd's Scots Songs, Vol. i., p. 145. Whether the 
 present is the original Ballad must of course remain a 
 matter of doubt ; but it has this advantage at least, 
 that the appellation bestowed upon the hero is more 
 intelligible than that of the mysterious "Lammikin.' 
 
of Old Ballads. 53 
 
 No fears, no fears, 
 
 Said the Lady, said she ; 
 For the doors shall be bolted 
 
 And the windows pindee. 
 Go bar all the windows. 
 
 Both outside and in ; 
 Don't leave a window open 
 
 To let bold Rankin in. 
 
 She has barred all the windows. 
 
 Both outside and in ; 
 But she left one of them open 
 
 To let bold Rankin in. 
 O where is the master of this house, 
 
 Said bold Rankin? 
 He's up in Old England, 
 
 Said the false nurse to him. 
 O where is the mistress of this house, 
 
 Said Bold Rankin? 
 She's up in the chamber sleeping, 
 
 Said the false nurse to him. 
 
 O how shall we get her down, 
 
 Said Bold Rankin? 
 By piercing the baby, 
 
 Said the false nurse to him. 
 
 Go please the baby, nursy O, 
 
 Go please it with a bell ; 
 It will not be pleased, madam, 
 
 Till you come down yoursel. 
 
i 
 
 54 .J Nevj Book 
 
 How can I come down stairs 
 
 So late into the night, 
 Without coal or candle 
 
 To shew me the light ? 
 
 There is a silver-bolt lies 
 
 On the chest head ; 
 Give it to the baby, — 
 
 Give it sweet milk and bread. 
 
 She rammed the silver bolt 
 
 Up the baby's nose ; 
 Till the blood it came trinkling down 
 , The baby's fine clothes. 
 
 Go please the baby, nursy, 
 Go please it with the bell ; 
 
 It will not please, madam, 
 Till you come down yoursel. 
 
 It will neither please with breast milk, 
 
 Nor yet with pap : 
 But I pray, loving Lady, 
 
 Come and roll it in your lap. 
 
 The first step she stepit, 
 
 She steppit on a stone ; 
 And the next step she stepit 
 
 She met bold Rankin. 
 
 O Rankin, O Rankin, 
 
 Spare me till twelve o'clock, 
 
 And I will give you as many guineas 
 As you can carry on your l)ack. 
 
of Old Ballads. 5 5 
 
 What care I for as many guineas 
 
 As seeds into a sack, 
 When I cannot keep my hands 
 
 Off your lily white neck ? 
 
 O will I kill her, nursy, 
 
 Or let her abee? 
 O kill her, said the false nurse, 
 
 She was never good to me. 
 
 Go scour the bason, Lady, 
 
 Both outside and in ; 
 To hold your mother's heart's blood, 
 
 Sprung from a noble kin. 
 
 To hold my mother's heart's blood 
 Would make my heart full woe, 
 
 O rather kill me, Rankin, 
 And let my mother go. 
 
 Go scour the bason, servants. 
 
 Both outside and in, 
 To hold your Lady's heart's blood, 
 
 Sprung from a noble kin. 
 
 To hold my lady's heart's blood 
 W^ould make my heart full woe ; 
 
 O rather kill me, Rankin, 
 And let my Lady go. 
 
 Go scour the basin, nursy, 
 
 Both outside and in, 
 To hold your lady's heart's blood, 
 
 Sprung from a noble kin. 
 
A New Book 
 
 To hold my lady's heart's blood 
 Would make my heart full glad ; 
 
 Ram in the knife bold Rankin, 
 And gar the blood to shed. 
 
 She 's none of my comrades, 
 
 She's none of my kin ; 
 Ram in the knife, bold Rankin, 
 
 And gar the blood rin. 
 
 O will I kill her, nursy, 
 
 Or let her abee? 
 O kill her, said the false nurse, 
 
 She was never good to me. 
 
 " I wish my wife and family 
 May be all well at home; 
 
 For the silver buttons of my coat, 
 They will not stay on." 
 
 As Betsy was looking 
 O'er her window so high, 
 
 She saw her dear father 
 Come riding by. 
 
 O father, dear father, 
 
 Don't put the l)lame on me; 
 It was false nurse and Rankin, 
 
 That killed your Lady." 
 
of Old Bidkds 
 
 :>/ 
 
 O wus'nt that an awful sight 
 When he came to the stair. 
 
 To see his fairest Lady 
 Lie bleeding there ? 
 
 The false nurse was burnt 
 On the mountain hill head 
 
 And Rankin was boiled 
 In a pot full of lead. 
 
(bontent.s. 
 
 Prekack, . . . ■ 
 
 Rlythc Jockic, 
 
 Lady Arrol's Lament, 
 
 No Dominies for mc, Lady, 
 
 Bonnie Nancy, 
 
 The Shepherd of Dona. 
 
 Willie and Marie, 
 
 To Dauton me, 
 
 Dool for my Eyen, . 
 
 Love is the cause of my Mourning, . 
 
 Thoughtless Clora, . 
 
 The Marquis of Huntley's Retreat from the 
 
 Battle of Sheriff-Muir, 
 The Cheat Detected ; or a Hint to Poets, 
 The Windy Writer, . 
 Pleasures of a Countrv Life, 
 The Cardinal's Coach Couped, 
 Tom Linn, .... 
 The Lady's Complaint, 
 
 The Downfall of Cockburn's Meeting House 
 Glasgow's Parrad, 
 Bold Rankin, 
 
 PAOF. 
 V 
 
 I 
 
 4 
 6 
 
 9 
 
 12 
 
 i6 
 i8 
 
 20 
 21 
 
 29 
 
 33 
 34 
 
 35 
 4.0 
 
 44- 
 46 
 
 48 
 
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
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