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PDF Text
Text
Vo I 3
THE
E
C
H
O
OF
FRIARS-CARSE HERMITAGE j
ALSO,
A V O N ' S
A
S T R E A M :
DIRGE.
BY R O B E R T BURNS,
HAMILTON.
•
I f fair fclence on thee fmile,
Self-reivardingJludio
us toil,
Cajl not a difJainful eye
On the hind that pajfes l y :
Feelings ftrong may ivarm his heart /
Feelings he can ne *er impart•
— » ® « —
T o which are added,
V E R t S E S,
WRITTEN
IN
THE
HIGH
CHURCH-YARD,
G L A S G O W :
P R I N T E D FOR AND SOLD BY
BRAFH
&
REID.
GLASGOW,
�J f
1
&
ADVERTISEMENT.
X HE Author of the two following Poems cannct
boaft of the advantages of education, or the endowments of literature. In the humble fphere of
life in which he has been deftined to move, learning
is far beyond' the reach of his ability or leifure.
T o pafs a few idle hours, when not engaged in
the labours of the Loom, and to amufe a fmall circle
of acquaintances, were his fole inducements to attempt thefe verfes. They are now offered to the
Public, with diffidence and refpedh The Author
is confcious that they appear under many difadvantages; but he trufts to the candour and good nature
of the Public, and, fhould they affign to him a fmall
portion of that merit which diftmgtfflhed his illustrious predecefior of the fame name, his higheft am- ;
bition will be gratified. At the fame time, the Public |
voice will determine, whether he fhall again appear
before their tribunal.
Though doom'd by Fortune to the Loom,
And time deny'd book-fhelves to toom,
Wild warbling Fancy, full in bloom,
N o w fpreads her wing,
And burnies, felvag'd a' wi' broom,
I lang to fing.
HAMILTON.
ROBERT
BURNS.
�(
3
)
THE
E
C
H
O
OF
FRIARS-CARSE
• j i n I N S C R I P T I O N f o r the
on tie
BANKS
of
HERMITAGE.
RUINS O/CADZOW
AVON,
near
CASTLS
HAMILTON,
ftranger ponder here,
Grandeur's ruins claim a tear;
'View in me thy coming fate,
Arm'd definition foon or late
Down thy frame will lay as l o w ;
Warn'd—prepare to meet the blow*
( PASSING
Life's a truly chequer'd fcene,
Grief and joy alternate reign,
None are evej- truly blefl,
Toil and care attend the beft.
(Youth and love may frifk and toy,
Tafte the brimming cup of joy ;
But fufpicion's urging doubt,
Stern, forbids to fip it 9Ut.
Soon will manhood's riper age
racant thoughts and time engage,;
�(
4
)
A world's intruding needful care,
Maxims, future life to fquare,
Take pofieffion of the foul,
Pleaiure's fofter fway controul.
Think not fons of wealth alone
Call true happinefs their own ;
Or that fons of want and care
Ne'er enjoy of blifs a lhare,
While through life they mourning go,
Preft with forrow, toil and wo ;
Hope to anchor fafe in heaven,
Gilds their fpan, while tempeft driven
Virtue bright her ftandard rears,
Future joy their mis'ry cheers.
Princely, noble, art thou born r
Humbler ftations never fcorn,
Keep thy diftance, fiiew thy power*
Man to blefs, but not devour.
Is it to thy glory told
Thou halt been in danger bold ?
Know my heroes were the fame,
Patterns of illuftrious fame.
Here the warrior's picaife was fung,
Here the deep ton'd harp was ilrung,
Here the virgin's blufoing charms
Yielded to the brave in arms ;
But nor beauteous nor brave
Claim exemption from the grave.
If fair fcience on thee fmile,
Self-rewarding ftudious toil,
Call not a difdainful eye
On the hind that pafies by i
�(
5
)
Feelings ftrong may warm his heart;
Feelings he can ne'er impart.
Smooth his life may flow, ferene,
Guiltlefs> pure, without a ftain.
If in life's more parrow vale,
Bounteous Heaven hath mark'd thy fcale,
Thank thy God for what he's lent,
Happy ftill, and Hill content.
Nature's common gifts are thine,
Let not thanklefs Pride repine;
Love and Friendfhip's facred ties,
Vital air, indulgent fkies,
T o the peafant and his lord
Equal blifs and health afford.
Stranger ! go—be Virtue's friend,
( Moralize on Cadzow's ruin ;
Keep in view thy latter end,
Blifs beyond the grave purfuing.
AVON'S
STREAM i
A DIRGE.
o
I.
AVON round thy rocky ftream
With many a weary ftep I flray;
N o r cheer'd by Phosbus' vernal beam
Grief pines my gloomy foul away.
�(
6
)
XI.
Thy lofty fwelling banks I view,
Adorn'd with geen-trees bloffom'd white :
Thy birks all bath'd in morning dew,
Alas ! they yield me no delight,
III.
T h y winding walks, the happy fcenes
O f my exulting raptur'd youth,
Ere while I knew Wo's fharpelt pains,
Ere while I doubted Peggy's truth.
IV.
? Twas
then my every thought was love,
Fame's airy trump I valued not;
*Twas then no wealth my foul could move,
Nor envy four my peaceful cot.
V.
But ah ! how rueful now the change !
How folemn fad beneath thefe boughs !
Where happy, happy, we did range,
And mutual breath'd fincereft vows.
VI.
Thou ruin'd caftle*, ivy bound,
Where floried ghofts terrific cry ;
Thy fhapelefs form, their dreary found
Accord with wretches fuch as I.
* CadzozVf near
Hamilton.
�(
7
)
vil.
The tumbling torrrents' boiling roar,
The winter-fhrouded lifelefs trees,
The nipping frofts' mildewing hoar,
My fad defponding fancy pleafe.
VIII.
Joy's mortal bane; falfe womankind !
For you on Avon's banks I'll mourn ;
Nor foothing folace hope to find,
But in the filent peaceful urn.
VERSES*
WRITTEN IN THE HIGH CHURCH-YARD,
GLASGOW,
BY
THE
LA«T E M R . J O H N
T A Y L O R , OF
ti P
GLASGO'W^
•
WRITING-MASTER.
I.
GRIEVE not ye wife, though in this yard.
Some hundred thoufands lie j
The juft inherit their reward,
Are happiefl when they die.
•• 4
.
»
'
�'
8
)
II.
When wicked men to duft defcend
N o more they'll plague mankind ;
On earth that life lhould never end
Was ne'er by Heaven defign'd.
III.
Suppofing this terraqueous globe
All form'd of folid land;
If none had died, ere now we would
Have wanted room to ftand.
IV.
W e in the other world fhall reap
As in this life we fow ;
Be virtuous if ye would efcapc
The pang of future wo.
V.
On jarring creeds let fchoolmen plod ;
W h o feldom truth difplay.
D o you th' internal voice of God,
Your co?ifcience, ftill obey.
GLASGOW.
JOHN TAYLOR*
F I N I S ,
�
Document
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Title
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The Echo of Friars-Carse Hermitage; also, Avon's Stream: A Dirge. To which are added, Verses, Written in the high church-yard, Glasgow.
Creator
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Burns, Robert, 1759-1796
Identifier
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<a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9953133953505154">s0141b34</a>
Date
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179? per G. Ross Roy Collection, University of South Carolina Libraries
Extent
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8 pages
Is Part Of
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Chapbook #2 in a bound collection of 54 chapbooks
Description
An account of the resource
Six line verse on the title-page: "If fair science on thee smile, Self-rewarding studious toil, Cast not a disdainful eye on the bind that passes by: Feeling strong may warm his heart; Feelings he can ne'er impart."
Coverage
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Avon (County) England
Subject
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Religion and Morals
Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow
Courtship and Marriage
Poetry
Is Referenced By
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G. Ross Roy Collection, University of South Carolina Libraries <a title="G. Ross Roy Collection, University of South Carolina Libraries" href="http://library.sc.edu/spcoll/britlit/roycol.html" target="_blank" rel="noopener">http://library.sc.edu/spcoll/britlit/roycol.html</a>
Abstract
A summary of the resource.
The chapbook begins with an ‘advertisement’/inscription by Robert Burns, humbly submitting his poems to the reader’s pleasure. The first poem focuses on the grief and joy of life, love, beauty, and nature, while the second poem is a lament over the author’s betrayal by his love as he wanders the countryside by stream and ruined castle. These two poems by Burns are followed by some “Verses” by the late Mr. John Taylor of Glasgow, Writing Master, which urges the “wife” or reader to not grieve for those dead and past, but to celebrate their passing into God’s kingdom, and to continue living a virtuous life themselves.
Alternative Title
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Avon's Stream.
Verses, written in the high church-yard, Glasgow.
Contributor
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Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada
Format
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JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner.
Rights
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In the public domain; For higher quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413
Source
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Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario
-
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3f501d61fa3f95d33f45ae6f47ddfd19
PDF Text
Text
THE
Ewie wi' the Crooked Horn;
TO
WHICH ARE
ADDED,
She lives in the Valley below,
THE STAR
OF THE
The Mill,
ON
EAST,
Mill, O,
FRIENDSHIP.
GLASGOW:
Printed for the Booksellers.
1828.
�E W I E WI' T H E CROOKED HORN.
O were I able to rehearse,
My ewie's praise in proper verse,
I'd sound it baith as loud and fierce,
As ever piper's drone could blaw.
T h e ewie wi' the crooked horn,
Weel deserves baith girse and corn,
Sic a ewie ne'er was born,
Hereabout nor far awa.
I neither needed tar nor keel,
T o mark her upon hip or heel,
H e r crooked horn did as weel
T o ken her by amang them a'.
She never threaten'd scab nor rot,
But keepit ay her ain jog trot,
Baith to the fauld and to the cot,
W a s never sweer to lead or ca'.
Cauld nor hunger never dang her,
W i n d nor rain could never wrang her,
Ance she lay a ouk and langer,
Furth aneath a wreath of snaw.
W h e n ither ewies lap the dyke,
And ate the kail, for a' the tyke,
My ewie never did the like,
But toss'd about the barn wa'.
�3
A better nor a thriftier beast,
Nae honest man could weel hae wist,
For, silly thing, she never mist
T o hae ilk year a lamb or twa.
The first she had I gae to Jock,
T o be to him a kind of stock,
And now the laddie has a flock
Of mair than thirty head ava.
I looked aye at e'ening for her,
Lest mishanter should come o'er her,
Or the fumart would devour her,
If the beastie bade awa.
Yet last ouk for a' my keeping,
W h a can speak it without weeping,
A villain cam when I was sleeping,
Aud staw my ewie, horn and a'.
I sought her sair upon the morn,
And down beneath a bush o' thorn
I fand my ewie's crooked horn,
But my ewie was awa.
But gin I had the loon that did it,
I hae sworn asw e e las said it,
Though a' t h e warld should forbid it,
I wad gie his neck a thraw.
I never met wi sic a turn
As this since ever I was born,
My ewie wi' the crooked horn,
Silly ewie stown awa.
�4
O had she died o'
As ewies do when
I t wadna been by
Sae sair a heart
crook or cauld,
they are auld,
,ony fauld,
to ane o's a'.
For a' the claith that we hae worn,
Frae her and her's sae aften shorn,
T h e loss o' her I could hae borne,
H a d fair strae death taen her awa.
But thus poor thing to lose her life,
Aneath a greedy villain's knife,
I'm really fear'd that our gudewife,
Shall never win about ava.
O all ye bards beneath Kinghorn,
Call your muses up and mourn,
Our ewie wi the crooked horn,
Is stown frae us and felled an a'.
SHE L I V E S I N T H E V A L L E Y B E L O W .
T h e broom bloomed so fresh and so fair,
T h e lambkins were sporting around,
W h e n I wandered to breathe the fresh air,
And by chance a rich treasure I found,
A lass s a t beneath a green shade,
For whose smiles the world I'll forego;
As blooming as May was the maid,
And she lives in the valley, she lives in the
valley, the valley below.
�5
H e r song struck my ears with surprise,
H e r voice like the nightingale sweet,
But love took his seat in her eyes,
There beauty and innocence meet:
From that moment my heart was her own,
For her every wish I'd forego,
She's beauteous as roses just blown,
And she lives in the valley below.
My cottage with woodbine o'ergrown,
T h e sweet turtle dove cooing round,
My flocks and my herds are my own,
My pastures with hawthorn are bound.
All my riches I'll lay at her feet,
If her heart in return she'll bestow,
For no pastime can cheer my retreat,
While she lives in the valley below.
T H E STAR OF T H E EAST.
Of late you have heard of two lovers,
T h a t lived near yon castle so high ;
To
the greenwoods they oftimes resorted,
While the owl from the forest did cry.
W h e n he gazed on the blooming young creature,
Her beauteous enchanting eyes,
Evinced her heart it was captured
By one that soon did her despise.
They ranged the woods with great pleasure;
Their weary limbs oft did repose;
A large spreading oak was their covert,
'Twas there they their minds did disclose.
�6
He told her, her worth was so precious,
That he never could her deceive,
Enraptured with love she exclaimed,
If you do my death on you I'll leave.
T h e rays of her pleasure shone brighter,
Than the beams from the sun from on high,
But a dark dismal cloud soon appeared,
Proclaiming her ruin was nigh.
A breeze from that ocean of falsehood,
Did poison her pleasure with woe,
Till the heart of this young blooming creature,
With sorrow was made for to flow.
Unmoved with the groans that she uttered
H e wantonly to her did say,
For marriage I am not disposed,
Then homeward he set on his way.
She cried, remember your promise,
For you know unto you I'm with child,
Aspiring for one that was greater,
T h e Star of the East he beguiled.
Distracted she ran through the woodlands,
Her bosom still heaving with pain ;
No answer was made to her sighing,
But the rocks that re-echoed again
Soon death's icy drops hang suspended,
On the brow of this beauty betrayed,
T o those boisterous waves she's now bended,
ln death's robes she now is arrayed.
W h e n I visit the tomb of this lassie,
Some spirit it whispers to me,
A victim to Love lies here buried,
Where youth bloomed in every eye.
�7
N o more by yon castle she wanders,
T o love she is no more a slave,
Bereaved of all earthly comforts,
She mouldering now lies in her grave.
T H E M I L L , M I L L , O.
Beneath a green shade I fand a fair maid,
W a s sleeping sound and still, O ;
A ' lowan wi' love, my fancy did rove,
Around her wi' good will, O.
Her bosom I prest, but sunk in her rest,
she stirr'd na my joy to spill, O :
While kindly she slept close to her I crept;
A n d kiss'd, and kiss'd her my fill, O.
Oblig'd by command in Flanders to land,
T' employ my courage and skill,
O,
Frae her quietly I staw, hoist sails and awa,
For the wind blew fair on the billow.
Twa years brought me hame, whar loud raising fame
Tauld me, wi' a voice right shrill, O,
My lass, like a fool, had mounted the stool,
Nor kend wha had done her the ill, O.
Mair fond o' her charms, wi' my son in her arms,
I ferlying spier'd how she fell, O ,
W i ' the tear in her ee, quo' she, let me die,
Sweet Sir, gin I can tell, O
But love gave command, I took her by the hand,
A n d bade a' her fears dispel, O ,
A n d nae mair look wan, for I was the man,
Wha had done her the deed mysel, O.
�8
My bonny sweet lass, on the gowany grass,
Beneath the shilling Hill, O,
If I did offence, I'se mak ye amends,
Before I leave Peggy's mill, O.
O the mill mill O, and the kill kill O,
And the coggin o' the wheel, O,
The sack and the sieve, a' that ye maun leave,
A n d round wi' a sodger
reel,
O.
ON F R I E N D S H I P .
The world, my dear Myra, is full of deceit,
A n d friendship's a jewel we seldom can meet,
H o w strange does it seem that in searching around,
That source of content is so rare to be found!
O Friendship ! thou balm and rich sweet'ner of life,
Kind parent of ease, and composer of strife;
Without thee, alas ! what are riches and pow'r,
But empty delusion, the joys of an hour.
How much to be priz'd and esteem'd is a friend,
On whom we may always with safety depend;
Our joys when extended will always increase,
A n d griefs, when divided, are hush'd into peace.
When fortune is smiling what crowds will appear,
Their kindness to offer, and friendship sincere ;
Yet change but the prospect and point out distress,
N o longer to court you they eagerly press.
FINIS.
�
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Title
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The Ewie wi' the Crooked Horn; To which are added, She lives in the Valley below, The Star of the East, The Mill, Mill, O, On Friendship.
Date
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1828
Identifier
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<a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9923309773505154">s0440b37</a>
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She lives in the Valley below,
The Star of the East,
The Mill, Mill, O.
On Friendship.
Extent
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8 pages
16 cm
Description
An account of the resource
Woodcut image of a cow on the title-page.
Subject
The topic of the resource
Chapbooks-Scotland-Glasgow
Contributor
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Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada
Is Referenced By
A related resource that references, cites, or otherwise points to the described resource.
<a title="University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks" href="http://special.lib.gla.ac.uk/chapbooks/search/">University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks</a>
<a title="National Library of Scotland" href="http://www.nls.uk/">National Library of Scotland </a>
Rights
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In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413
Creator
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Burns, Robert, 1759-1796
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JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner.
Publisher
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Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers
-
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076b094e6785967d694dfebccdffee28
PDF Text
Text
A COLLECTION OF
THE LAIIiD f); COCK PEN.
THE ROW;
JOHN ANDERSON MY JO.
MOGGY ADAIR.
UNFORTUNATE MARY.
AND SAE WILL WE YET.
ED M M
PRlNTEF FOR TBI
BOOK
ELLER5
�The Laird o Cockpen.
T h e Laird o- Coekpen, he's proud an1 he's great,
Bis mind is ta'en up wi' the things o' tho state:
He wanted a wife his braw house to keep;
But favour wi" wooing was fashions to seek.
Doun by the dike side a Lady did dwell;
At his table-head he thought she'd look well:
M ' d i s h ' s ae daughter o1 C la verse-ha1 Lee,
A penny less lass wi' a Jang pedigree.
His wig was weel-pouther'd as guid as when new,
His waistcoat was white, his coat it was blue.
H e put on a ring, a sword, and coek'd h a t ;
And wha could refuse the Laird wi' a' that ?
$$e -t-Qok
'grey -mane and rade canftily ;
iAn' r^p't at the y e $ o' Claverse/ha,* >Lee,;
44
Gae tdi Mistress Jean to come speedily" ben ;
jSb.e'a wanted to speak to the I^aircl o* Cockpeti ?"
Mistress Jean was makin' the elder-flow'r-wine,
" An* what brings the Laird at sic a like time
She pat affiher apron, an1 on her silk gown,
H e r mulch wi'red ribbons, an' gaed awn doun.
Atf whjin she cam ben, he bp_uedJir 'low;
An' what w#s his errand he .soon let her know:
Amaz'd
the Laird, when the Lady said,
lAn1 wi' a laigh curtsie she turned awa.
Dumfunder'd he was, nae sigh did he gie f
He mounted his mare, an1 rade cannily ;
And aften he thocht, as he gaed thro' the gfe%
She's daft to refuse the Laird o1 Coekpeo*
�3
The Rota.
I knew by the noise that I heard all around,
In the street where I was, that a How it was
near*
And I said if there's fun this good night to be found,
As I love it so dearly, I shall sure find it here.
Every tongue seenrd employed, and the row did
increase,
Whilst the Charleys their rattles so cheerly spring.
I hoppM into the crowd, the news for to catch.
But scarcely had open'd my mouth to enquire,
When a rascally thief made off with my watch,
Tript my heels, and so laid me down flat in
the mire!
The watchmen surrounded, and bore me away.
And in limbo I sigh'd till the dawn of next day.
T o the justice tlpey took me, to tell my sad tale,
Who asked me what in defence Fd to say,
I told him that rogues in the crowd did assail,
My person abus' d, and my watch bore away.
He looking quite grim, bade me better hours keep,
Pay a shilling—Return to my home with all speed.
John Anderson my Jo.
John Anderson, my jo, John,
When we were first sequent,
Your locks were like the raven,
Your bonny brow was brefit;
• '-.JEW
�a
Burt n o w y()ur h e a < F s { u n 1 \ i
bauld, J o h n ,
Your Jocks are like the snow,
Y e t ble^sln^s on your frosty p o u v
J fil i n An de rson, my j o.
John Anderson, my jo, John,
When nature first began
To try her canny hand, Joivti,
Her master-work was Man ;
And you ainaiig them a', John,
Sac trkr irae tap to tpe,
She proved to be nae journey-work,
John Anderson j my jo
John Ander^on, my jo, John,
Ye were my first conceit,
And ye needria think it strange, John,
Tho 1 1 ca1 ye trim arid neat;
Tho* some folks sae ye1 re auld John,
1 never think ye so,
But I thhik yere aye the same to me,
John Anderson, my jo.
J o h n Anderson^ mv jo.,. John, ...
W e ' u been our bairns' bairns,
And yet, my dear J<din Anderlon,
I'm happy in y o u r arms ;
AnH sae are*ye i n ! m i n e ,
John—
i'in sure ye l 1 ne1 er mv 11o,
T h o ' the days? are j>ane ihat we have
J o h n Anderson, mv jo.
�,5
John Anderson, my.;, jo^ John,
What.pleasure does it
' T o see sae mony sprouts, J o h n ,
Spring up %ween you and me ;
A n d ilka lad arid lass, John,
I n our footsteps to go,
Makes perfect heaven here on earth,
J^hn Anderson my jo.
J oh n A nderson, my jo, J oh h 5
Frae year t"o year we've past,
And sdoh that year maun come John
Will bring us to our Jast :
But let yna thai affright us, John,
Our hearts were ne'er our foe;
While in innopent delight we lived,
John Anderson, my jo.
John Anderson, my jo, John,
W e 'climb the hill thegither,
Add monie a cantie day, John,
We've had wi' ane anilher ;
Now we maun totter down, J o h n ,
But hand in hand we'll go,
And vveUI sleep thegither at the foot,
John Anderson, my jo,
'
/Idair, ' ' '
What's i\lJ the world to me,!
Desert and bare,!
There it was limping J^'ed
{iifce) her a rihh6u red,
�6
For which I broke his head-—
(AH for)
Moggy Adair !
W h o made the saucepan shine ?
Moggy Adair!
W h o boiled nice dumplings nine r
Moggy Adair!
Who, when they ail were done.
Because I didn't run,
Eat 'em up every one P
(O, cruel)
Moggy Adair !
But now thou'rt cold to me,
False, I declare !
Left me for Timothy,
At the Brown Bear !
Now in my garters twined,
111 dangle in the wind,
Oh!—no, I'll change my mind,
(So a fig for)
Moggy Adair !
Unfortunate Mary.
Distracted with anguish and grief,
Behold a poor girl of woe.
Ah ! where shall I fly for relief ?
In vain scalding tears now flow,
No ease they afford to my heart,
Nor comfort give to my mind.
Ah ! what can the world now impart,
Where ease or hope shall I find ?
�7
Then* pity me, maids, ah, pity me !
My true Jove was lost at sea,
In the unfortunate Abergavenny.
The youth of my heart is no more;—
Charles found a wat*ry grave,
His virtues how many deplore,
Yet worth nor virtue could save
T h a t dear form from the tyrant death ;
His truth and vows, so sincere,
Fled for ever that voice and breath,
And all my soul loved dear.
Then, pity me, &c.
No more fond memory delights
In tracing the heavenly mind.
His soul has ta'en her flight
And gone to its kindred kind.
Poor Mary, though heart-broken, blest,—
Constancy still was thy lot;
Thy sorrow will soon find rest,
Though Charles will ne'er be forgot.,
Then, pity me,,&c.
And sae %mll we yet.
Sit ye down here, my cronies, and gie me your
crack,
Let the win! tak the care o' this life on its back;
Our hearts to despondency we ne'er will submit,
For we've aye been provided for, and sae will we
yet.
And sae will we yet. &c.
�8
Let thi? miser delight in the h^ardin^ of pelf,
Since he has not the said to enjbv it ; himself:
Since the Bounty of Providence • & ni?vr ev'ry day*
As we journey, through life, let us live.by the way.
Let us live by the way, &c.
T h e n bring us a tankard of nappy good al£,
For to comfort our hearts, and enliven the tale;
\ W t l aye he provided forthte I auger we sit,
For we've drank thegither monie a time, and sae
will we yet.
A n d sae will we y e t , 81 c
w
,
Success to the farmer4, and prosper h h plough,
Rewarding his eident toils a' -the year through :
Our seed time and harvest we;e?er will geti
F o r we've lippen'd aye? to Providence, and sae will
• we yet
hs l-l
And sae will we yet, kc.
>
J
Long live the king, atklhappy may -he he,
And success to his forces by land and h y s t a :
His enemies to triumph we n^'er will permit,
Britons aye have been victorious, and sae will they
yet.
And say will they yet, &c.
Let the glass keep its course, ami go merilie £oun^>
F o r the sun has to rise 5 tho' the moon it g©es dovi n :
Till the house he rinnin round about, 'tis tirnl
enough to flit,
> ,,*
i iO
W h e n we fell, ;we aye got up again, and sae will
we j e t .
And sae will we yet, kc.
�
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Illustration in double ruled border on title page of a woman wearing a bonnet and apron with her arms outstretched towards a well dressed man who is holding a walking stick.
Dublin Core
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Title
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Woodcut 116: Title-page illustration in double ruled rectangular border of a woman wearing a bonnet and apron with her arms outstretched towards a well dressed man who is holding a walking stick. Interior scene framed by curtains.
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Title
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A Collection of Songs, &c. No. XIII Containing The Laird O' Cockpen. The Row. John Anderson My Jo. Moggy Adair. Unfortunate Mary. And Sae will we yet.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
<a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9953133903505154">s0499b33</a>
Alternative Title
An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific.
The Laird O' Cockpen.
The Row.
John Anderson My Jo.
Moggy Adair.
Unfortunate Mary.
And Sae will we yet.
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
[1820?] per G. Ross Roy Collection, University of South Carolina Libraries
Extent
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8 pages
Is Part Of
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Chapbook #25 in a bound collection of 40 chapbooks
Subject
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Chapbooks - Scotland - Edinburgh
Contributor
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Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada
Is Referenced By
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<a title="G. Ross Roy Collection, University of South Carolina Libraries" href="http://library.sc.edu/spcoll/britlit/roycol.html">G. Ross Roy Collection, University of South Carolina Libraries</a>
Rights
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In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413
Creator
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Burns, Robert, 1759-1796
Format
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JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner.
Publisher
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Edinburgh: Printed for the Bookseller
Source
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Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
ballads & songs
Bib Context: title-page
Chapbook Date: 1811-1820
Chapbook Genre: ballads & songs
Chapbook Publisher - Edinburgh: Printed for the Booksellers
Fashion (Clothing): upper class
Gender: man/men
Gender: woman/women
Indoor Scene
Object: curtain(s)
Object: walking stick/ staff
-
https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/ef67430a4821f90545c81b8e8a271551.pdf
1949a852dbb44919eb4407177ecaa2ac
PDF Text
Text
SIX
P o p u l a r Seiig^
Coming through the rye.
Say, my heart, why wildly beatingWhen I was an infant.
Jockie to the fair.
Katty O'Lynch.
There was a jolly miller.
KILMARNOCK:
PRINTED
m
FOR T H E
BOOKSELLERS*
�POPULAR SONGS.
C0MEN' T H R O U G H T H E
RYE.
I F a body meet a body comin' through the rye,
if a body kiss a body, need a body cry ?
Ev'ry Jassie has her laddie,
Nane, they say hae I!
Yet a' the lads they smile on me
W h e n comin' thro" the rye.
Amang the train there is a swain
I 4§;vrly loe myself
But whare his hame,
what his name ?
I dinna care to telL
If a body meet a body com in* frae the town.
If a body greet a body, need a body frown ?
Ev'ry iassie has her laddie,
Nane they say hae I !
Yet a* the lads they smile on m e
W h e n comin' thro 1 the rye.
Amang the train, &c.
SAY,
M Y
H E A R T ,
W H Y
BEATING.
SAT, my heart, why wildly beating,
Dost thou auch emotion prove?
W I L D L Y
�3
Canst thou* when thy lover meeting,
Fear his truth, or doubt his love ?
N o , fondly no, my bosom sighs !
No, gently no, my heart replies.
T h e n , fond heart, be silent ever,
Be thy wild emotion o'er ;
For with doubt and fearing never
Shalt thou throb—no, no, no, never more,
No, no, no, never never more.
Light of life, and life's best blessing
Is the love that meets return *
,
Shall J, that rich boon possessing,
E'er the matchless blessing spurn ?
No, fondly no, my bosom sighs !
No, gently no, my heart replies,
T h e n be joy my inmate ever,
^
Since each anxious dread is o'er,
For with fear and doubting never
Shall it throb—no, no, no, neve* more,
No, no, no, never never more.
W H E N I W A S AN I N F A N T .
I was an infant, mammy would say,
Fd when older>
Be a soldier!
Rattles and toys, I threw them away,
Unieis a gun or a sabre.
W h e n a younker, up I grew*
Saw one day a grand review*
WHEN
�4
Colours flying,
Set me dying,
T o embark in life so new.
Roll drums merrily, march away,
Soldiers 1 glory
Lives in story,
His laurels are green when his locks are grey !
T h e n hey for the life of a soldier.
Listed—to battle I march'd along,
Courting danger,
Fear a stranger;
The cannon beat time to the trumpet's song,
And made my heart a hero's.
< Charge l* the gallant leaders cry v
On like iions then we fly,
Blood and thunder,
Foes knock under,
Then huzza for a victory.
Roll drums merrily, &c.
W h o so merry as we in camp ?
Battle over,
Live in clover,
Care and his cronies are forc'd to tramp ;
And all is social pleasure.
Then we laugh, we quafF, we sing,
Time goes gaily on the wing.
Smiles of beauty,
Sweeten duty,
And each private is a king!
Roil drums merrily, &c»
NIL
�5
JOCKIE
TO
T H E
FAIR.
on the morn of sweet May-day,
W h e n Nature painted all things gay,
Taught birds to sing, and lambs to play*
And gild the meadows fair !
Young Jockie with the early dawn,
His Sunday's coat the youth put on,
For Jenny had vow'd away to run
With Jockie to the f a i r ;
For Jenny had vow'd, &c.
'TWAS
T h e cheerful parish-bells had r u n g ;
W i t h eager steps he trudg'd along;
While fiow'ry garlands round him hung,
W h i c h shepherds us'd to wear :
H e tapp'd the window, Haste, my dear:
Jenny, impatient, cried, W h o ' s there I
' T i s I, my love? and no one near,
Step gently down, you've nought to fear,
W i t h Jockie to the fair;
Step gently down, &c.
My dad and man are fast asleep,
My brother's up and with the sheep,
And will you still your promise keep,
Which I have heard you swear i
And will you ever constant prove ?
I will, by all the powers above;
And ne'er deceive my charming dove;
Dispel these doubts, and haste, my love,
W i t h Jockie to the fair.
Dispel these doubts, &c.
�6
Behold the ring, the shepherd cried*
Will Jenny be my charming bride,
Let Cupid be our happy guide,
And Hymen meet us there.
T h e n Jockie did his vows renew,
H e would be constant, would be true ;
His word was pledg'd, away she flew,
O'er cowslips tipt with balmy dew,
W i t h Jockie to the fair;
O'er cowslips, &c>
In raptures meet the joyful throng,
Their gay companions blythe and young,
Each joins the dance, each joins the song,
To hail the happy pair;
In turns there's none so fond as they,
T h e y bless the kind propitious day,
T h e smiling morn of blooming May,
W h e n lovely Jenny ran away
With Jockie to the f a i r ;
W h e n lovely Jenny, &c.
KATTY
G'LYNCH.
Katty O'Lynch lived at Ballinahinch,
And her sweetheart was called Mister Casey ;
H o w sweetly she'd cry, as he'd constantly sigh,
O h ! Paddy now can't you be easy !
And don't be coming over me with your
T u ral lal la, tu rai, Bee.
SWEET
�7
Oh ! Paddy now can't you be easy,
One morning, 'twas own'd, in her chamber
he found
A man that was not Mister Casey;
Arrali! who's this, says he ? 'tis my brother, says
she:
O h ! Katty, now can't you be easy,
And don't be coming over me with your
Fu rai lal, &c.
The next time they met, she cried out in a pet,
Arrah ! Paddy you've drove me quite crazy j
Since you are the boy, won't you marry me, joy*
Marry you, marry you,
Arrah ! Katty now can't you be easy*
And don't be coming over me with your
T u ra! lal, &c.
T H E R E W A S A JOLLY
MILLER.
was a jolly miller
Ance liv'd on the river D e e ;
H e work'd and sung from morn till night,
No lark more blythe than h e :
And thus the burthen of his song
For ever us'd to be,
I care for nobody* no, not I,
If no one cares for me*
THERE
�8
I live by my mill, how happy I,
She's kindred, child, and wife ;
I would not change my station
For any other in life.
No lawyer, surgeon, or doctor.
E'er had a grost from m e ;
I care for nobody» no, not I,
If nobody cares for me.
W h e n spring begins its merry career,
Oh how his heart grows gay;
N o summer drouth alarms his fears.
Nor winter's sad decay.
No foresight mars the miller's joy,
Who's wont to sing and say,
Let others toil from year to year,
I live from day to day.
Thus, like the miller bold and free,
Let us rejoice and sing,
T h e days of youth are made for glee,
And time is on the wing
This song shall pass from me to thee.
Along this jovial ring;
Let heart and voice and all agree,
To say long live the king.
FINIS.
�
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Dublin Core
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Title
A name given to the resource
Illustration of a man and a woman in an outside scene; the
man is facing the woman and the woman is facing the viewer.
Dublin Core
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Title
A name given to the resource
Woodcut 088:Title-page illustration of a man and a woman. The man is facing the woman and the woman is facing the viewer. Outdoor scene.
Document
A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text.
Dublin Core
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Title
A name given to the resource
Six Popular Songs. Coming through the rye. Say, my heart, why wildly beating. When I was an infant. Jockie to the fair. Katty O'Lynch. There was a jolly miller.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
<a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9953133903505154">s0499b33</a>
Alternative Title
An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific.
Coming through the rye.
Say, my heart, why wildly beating.
When I was an infant.
Jockie to the fair.
Katty O'Lynch.
There was a jolly miller.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Burns, Robert, 1759-1796
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
[1820?] per G. Ross Roy Collection, University of South Carolina Libraries
Extent
The size or duration of the resource.
8 pages
Description
An account of the resource
Woodcut #88: <span>Illustration of a man and a woman in an outside scene; the man is facing the woman and the woman is facing the viewer. </span>
Subject
The topic of the resource
Chapbooks--Scotland--Kilmarnock
Courtship and Marriage
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada
Is Referenced By
A related resource that references, cites, or otherwise points to the described resource.
<a title="G. Ross Roy Collection, University of South Carolina Libraries" href="http://library.sc.edu/spcoll/britlit/roycol.html">G. Ross Roy Collection, University of South Carolina Libraries </a>
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413
Is Part Of
A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included.
Chapbook #20 in a bound collection of 40 chapbooks
Language
A language of the resource
English
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
ballads & songs
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner.
Publisher
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Kilmarnock: Printed for the Booksellers
Source
A related resource from which the described resource is derived
Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario
# of Woodcuts: 1
Architecture: fence
Bib Context: title-page
Chapbook Date: 1811-1820
Chapbook Genre: ballads & songs
Chapbook Publisher - Edinburgh: Printed for the Booksellers
Gender: man/men
Gender: woman/women
Nature: tree(s)
Outdoor Scene
-
https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/2c0daeede4d77470c5822ffbd9a6a0de.pdf
7c8501a6991878d76baf23ecc7f036f5
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Document
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Dublin Core
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Title
A name given to the resource
The Exile : Or the Banished Patriot. A Poem. To which are added, An Inscription in an Hermitage. and The Lovely Lass of Inverness. A Favourite Scots Song. By Robert Burns. The Airshire Poet.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
<a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9953133953505154">s0141b34</a>
Alternative Title
An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific.
An Inscription in an Hermitage
The Lovely Lass of Inverness
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Burns, Robert, 1759-1796
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
[1797] per National Library of Scotland
Extent
The size or duration of the resource.
8 pages
Is Part Of
A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included.
Chapbook #13 in a bound collection of 54 chapbooks
Description
An account of the resource
"The Patriot's tears how can they cease to flow, For virtuous men, by villains doom'd to go Far from their country, and their native shore, Never to see their friends or kindred more. Tho' they die exil'd in a barren land, Their names shall veneration still command, To them shall future ages rear the bust, When venal wretches sink to common dust." in quoted on the title-page.
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Inverness, Scotland
Subject
The topic of the resource
Poetry
Is Referenced By
A related resource that references, cites, or otherwise points to the described resource.
<a title="National Library of Scotland" href="http://www.nls.uk/">National Library of Scotland</a><a title="National Library of Scotland" href="http://www.nls.uk/" target="_blank" rel="noopener"><br /></a>
ESTC#: T33800
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413
Format
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JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Glasgow: Brash & Reid
# of Woodcuts: 0
Chapbook Date: 1791-1800
Chapbook Genre: ballads & songs
Chapbook Genre: poetry
Chapbook Publisher - Glasgow: Brash & Reid
-
https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/5018aea3faa2fed32d61f8f8e307df5e.pdf
2b96a677f435f41bbbd98ae08aade0f4
PDF Text
Text
Domejlic Happinefs
Exhibited\
I N
1.
THE
FIRESIDE.
A POJLM.
BY D R . C O T T O N *
H.
JOHN ANDERSON, MY JOE.
IMPROVED.
BY R O B E R T B U R N S .
G L A S G O W :
H I N T E D FOR A N D SOLD BY
Brafli & Reid.
�5 / 9 o
THE
FIRESIDE.
r.
D k A R Cloe, while the b u f y croud*
T h e vain, the w e a l t h y , and the p r o u d .
In folly's maze advance;
T h o ' fingularity and p r i d e
Ee call'd our choice, we'll ftep afide,
N o r join the giddy dance.
II.
F r o m the gay world we'll oft retire
T o our own family and fire,
W h e r e love our hours e m p l o y s ;
N o noify neighbour enters here,
N o intermeddling Granger n e a r ,
T o fpoil our heartfelt joys.
III.
If fobd happinefs we p r i z e ,
W i t h i n our breafi this jewel lies,
And they are fools who roam ;
T h e world hath n o t h i n g to beftow,
From our own felves our blifs mud-flow^
A n d that dear hut our home.
�(
3
)
IV.
Of reft: was N o a h ' s dove b e r e f t ,
W h e n with impatient wing f h e left
T h a t fafe r e t r e a t , the a r k ;
Giving her vain excursions o ' e r ,
T h e d i f a p p o j n t e d bird once m o r e
E x p l o r ' d t h e facred b a r k .
V.
Tho* fools f p u r n H y m e n ' s gentle powers.
W e , w h o i m p r o v e his golden hours,
By fweet experience k n o w ,
T h a t marriage, rightly u n d e r f t o o d ,
Gives to t h e t e n d e r and the good*
A p a r a d i f e below.
VI.
Our babes fliall richefl comforts b r i n g ;
If t u t o r ' d right they'll prove a f p r i n g ,
W h e n c e pleafures ever rife :
W e ' l l form their minds w i t h ftudious c a r ^
T o all that's manly, good, and fair,
A n d train t h e m for the ikies.
VII.
While they our wifeft hours engagd,
T h e y ' l l joy our y o u t h , f u p p o r t ourage$
A n d crown our h o a r y hairs;
T h e y ' l l grow in virtue every d a y ,
A n d thus our fondeft loves repay s
A n d recompense our cares*
�£ 4 J
VIII.
Mo borrowed joys! t h e y ' r e all o u r own 8
W h i l e to t h e world we live Unknown,
Or by the world f o r g o t :
M o n a r c h s ! we envy not y o u r ftatey
W e look with pity on the G r e a t ,
A n d blefs o u r h u m b l e lot.
IX.
O u r portion is not large, indeed,
But then how little do we need,
For N a t u r e ' s calls are few !
In this the art of living lies,
T o want no more than m a y fuffice s
A n d make that little do.
X.
W e ' l l t h e r e f o r e felifli with content*
Whate*er kind P r o v i d e n c e has fertt^
N o r aim beyond our power ;
f o r if our (lock be very fmall,
?
Tis p r u d e n c e to enjoy it all,
N o r Iofe the prefent h o u r .
tt.
to be refign'd when ills betide,
P a t i e n t when favours are d e n y ' d ,
A n d pleas'd with favours given
D e a r Cloe, this is wifdom's p a r t ,
"jphis is that incenfe of the h e a r t ,
W h o l e fragrance f m e l k to heaven.
�(
5
)
XII.
W e ' l l afk no long-protra&ed treaty
Since winter-life is feldom f w e e t ;
But when our feaflis o'er,
G r a t e f u l from table we'll arife,
N o r grudge our fons, with envious eyes t
T h e relics of our (lore*
XIII.
T h u s h a n d in hand t h r o ' life we'll g o ;
Its checkered paths of joy and woe
W i t h cautious fteps we'll t r e a d ;
Q u i t its vain fcenes without a tear,
W i t h o u t a trouble, or a fear,
A n d mingle with the dead.
XIV.
W h i l e confc?ence, like a faithful f r i e n d /
Shall t h r o ' the gloomy vale a t t e n d ,
A n d cheer our dying b r e a t h ;
Shall, when all other comforts ceafej
iLike a kind angel w h i f p e r peace,
A ^ d f m o o t h the bed of d e a t h .
#
�JOHN ANDERSON, MY JOE,
X MP R 0 r E D.
I.
J O H N A n d e r f o n , rny joe, J o h n , I wonder w h a t
you mean,
T o rife fo foon in the m o r n i n g , and fit up fo late at
e'en,
Ye'll blear out a* y o u r een, J o h n , and why f h o u l d
you do fo,
© a n g fooner to y o u r bed at e'en, J o h n A n d e r f o n , m y
joe.
It.
J o h n A n d e r f o n , my joe, J o h n , w h a n natiirc fir&
began
T o t r y her canny h a n d , J o h n , h e r mailer-work
was rian ;
A n d you amang them a s J o h n , fo trig f r a e t a p to
toe,
She p r o v ' d to be nae j o u r n e y - w o r k , J o h n A n "
4terfoB s my joe.
�(
7
)
III.
J o h n A n d e r f o n , m y joe, J o h n , ye w e r e m y firfl
conceit,
A n d ye need na t h i n k it ftrange, J o h n , tho* I ca*
ye trim and neat ;
Tho* fbme fock fay ye're a u l d , J o h n , I never t h i n k
ye fo,
But I t h i n k y e ' r e ay t h e fame to me, J o h n A n d e r f o n , my joe.
IV.
J o h n A n d e r f o n , m y joe, J o h n , we've feen our b a i r n s
bairns,
A n d yet my dear, John A n d e r f o n , I'm h a p p y in
y o u r arms,
A n d fae are ye in mine, J o h n , I'm f u r e ye'll n e ' e r
fay no,
T h o ' t h e days are gane that we hae feen, J o h n
A n d e r f o n , my joe.
V.
J o h n A n d e r f o n , my joe, J o h n , w h a t p l e a f u r e d o e s
it gie»
T o fee fae mony f p r o u t s , J o h n , f p r i n g u p ' t w e e n
you and m e ,
A n d ilka lad and lafs, J o h n , in o u r footfteps to go
Makes p e r f e A heaven Jiere on e a r t h , J o h n Ajv*
d e r f o n , my joe.
VI.
J o h n A n d e r f o n , my joe, J o h n , w h e n we were firft
acquaint,
Y o u r locks were like the r a v e n , y o u r b o n n y b r o w
was b r e n t .
�{
8
)
But now y o u r head's t u r n ' d bald, J o h n , y o u r locks
are like t h e fnow,
Yet bleffings on y o u r frofty p o w , J o h n A n d e r f o n ,
m y joe,
VII.
J o h n A n d e r f o n , my joe, J o h n , f r a e y e a r to year
we've part,
A n d Toon that year raaun come, J o h n , will b r i n g
us to our laft,
But let n a ' that affright us J o h n , our hearts were
n e ' e r o u r foe,
W h i l e in innocent delight y/e liv'd, J o h n A n d e r fon, my joe,
VIII.
J o h n A n d e r f o n , my joe, J o h n , we clarnb the hill
thegither,
A n d mony a canty day, J o h n , we've had vvi' ane
anither;
N o w we maun totter down, J o h n , b u t hand in
b a n d we'll go,
^ n d we'll fleep thegither at the foot, J o h n A n d e r f o n , my joe.
F I N i
4>
S.
�
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3161fa68a8b2339b4dc33b9a03ab3045
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Title
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Domestic Happiness Exhibited, in I. The Fireside. A Poem. By Dr. Cotton. II. John Anderson, My Joe. Improved
Identifier
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<a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9953133953505154">s0141b34</a>
Date
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[1796?] per National Library of Scotland
Extent
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8 pages
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English Short Title Catalogue <span>T34816</span>
<a title="National Library of Scotland" href="http://www.nls.uk/">National Library of Scotland</a>
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Chapbook #53 in a bound collection of 54 chapbooks
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The Fireside
John Anderson, My Joe. Improved
Subject
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Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow
Poetry
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Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada
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In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413
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Glasgow: Brash & Reid
Source
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Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario
Creator
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Burns, Robert, 1759-1796
Cotton, Nathaniel, 1705-1788.
# of Woodcuts: 0
Chapbook Date: 1791-1800
Chapbook Genre: poetry
Chapbook Publisher - Glasgow: Brash & Reid
-
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Title
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Woodcut portraying a old man wearing hat, long coat, and striped socks and leaning against a walking stick in outdoor scene
https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/0b478e22f5a12229a1e5f91220cc6b2c.pdf
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PDF Text
Text
BUKMS'
SONGS.
No. 1.
ILLUSTRATED.
GLASGOW:
PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS.
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BURNS 5 SONGS.
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LORD
GREGORY.
O mirk, mirk is the midnight hour
And loud the tempest r o a r ;
A waefu' wanderer se.eks thy iojv'r,
Lord Gregory, op^th^abor.'
A n exile frae her father's ha',
And a' for loving tllee ; .» >Uh:
A t least some .pity, on -me show^
If love it may na be.
Lord Gregory, mind'st thou not."the grove,
B y boimie Irwine" side,
Where first I own'd that virgin love
I lang, lang had denied.
�SONGS.
How afberi didst thou pledge and vow,
Thou would for ay be mine;
And my fond heart, itsel sae true,
It ne'er mistrusted thine.
Hard is thy heart, Lord Gregory,
And flinty is thy breast:
Thou dart of heaven that flashest by,
O wilt thou giye me rest !
Ye mustering thunders from above,
Your willing victim see !
But spare, and pardon my false love,
His wrangs to heaven and me !
•worf ^rTginlurfi
si A-iim r;Aii err O
• 'iKO't T^wnwt of • • hoof btfA
v A
H I G H L A N D MARY.
Ye banks, and braes and streams around,
The castle o' Montgomery,
©reen be your woods, and fair your flowers,
Your waters never drumlie !
There summer first unfolds her robes,
And there tke laugest tarry;
F©r there I took the last fareweel
©' my sweet Highland Mary.
'
4
i
�SONGS.
How sweetly bloom'd the gay geeen birk,
How rich the hawthorn's blossom;
As underneath the fragrant shade,
1 clasp'd her to my bosom;
The golden hours on angel wings,
Flew o're me and my dearie;
For dear to me, as light and life,
Was my sweet Highland Mary.
Wi' mony a vow, and lock'd embrace,
Our parting was fu5 tender;
And, pledging aft to meet again,
We tore oursel's asunder;
But Oh! fell death's untimely frost,
'i hat nipt my flower sae early !
Now green's the sod and cauld's the clay,
/I'laat wraps my Highland Mary !
O pale, pale now, those rosy lips,
1 aft hae lriss'd sae fondly S
And closed for ay, the sparkling glance,
That dwelt on me sae kindly!
And mouldering now in silent dust,
That heart that lo'd me dearly!
Bnt still within my bosom's core,
Shall live my Highland Mary,
CLARINDA.
Clarinda, mistress of my soul,
The measured time is run !
The wretch beneath the dreary pole,
So marks his latest stin.
To what dark cave of frozen night,
Shall poor Sylvander H e ; —
Deprived of thee,Ins life and light,
The sun of all his joy.
We part—but, by these precious drops,
That fill thy lovely eyes I]
No other light shall guide my steps
Till thy bright bea<ms arise.
She, the fair sun of all her sex,.
Hast blest my glorious day ;
And shall a glimmering planet fix
My worship to; its v ay ?
�SONGS.
MY WIFE'S A WINSOME W E E T H I N G .
( ii aiini. txsmsLi «aii t&a sl&a O
She is a winsome wee thing-,
She is a hansorae wee thing,
She is a bonnie wee thing,
This sweet wee wife o' mine.
ttkrjjp jri&Iia in wofi •%nvLOvitJOhi uni.
I never saw a fairer,
I never lo'ed a dearer,
And niest my heart I'll wear her,
For fear my jewel tine.
She is a winsome wee thing,
She is a handsome wee thing,
The is a bonnie wee thing,
This sweet wee wife o' mine.
The warld's wrack we share o't,
The warstle and the care o't;
Wi' her I'll blithly bear it,
And think my lot divine *
gq
, •• ; I vrf Jud—i-isq <>7/
\\.Sro vb'/ol vdi lift JsiiT
tbw-g Iteite Jdfcjl isdio oV\
TO MARY.
Will ye go to the Indies my Mary,
And leave auld Scotia's shore ?
Will ye go to the Indies, my Mary,
Across th' Atlantic's roar ?
6
�SONGS.
0 sweet grows th6 lime and the orange,
And the apple on the pine;
But a' the charms o' the Indies,
Can never equal thine.
1 hae sworn by the heavens to my Mary,
I hae sworn by the heavens to be true
And sae may the heavens forget me,
When I forget my vow!
O plight me your faith my Mary,
And plight me your lily-white hand;
• O plight me your faith, my Mary,
Before I leave Scotia's strand.
We have plighted our troth, my Mary,
In mutual affecton to join,
And curst be the cause that shall part us!
The hour and the moment o' time!
,ed vrobnin yds 3n
O
! i sod boi-rii si 1 J ,5'rieifr edi ei j l
GALLA WATER.
There's braw, braw lads on Yrrow braes,
That wander thro' the blooming heather;
But Yarrow braes, nor Ettric shaws,
Can match the lads o' Galla water.
7
�SONGS.
Bat there is ane, a secret ane,
Abyn t i e n a* I ,lo'e him better;
And I'll be his, and heUl be'mine,
The bonnie, lad o* Galla water.
Altho' his daddie was iiae laird,
And tho • 1 hae nae meikle tocher;
Yet rich in kindest, truest love,
We'll ten tour flocks by Galla water.
; y/O'/ (tn jtygio'* I nod//"
It ne'er was wealth, it ne'er was wealth,
That coft contentment,
peace, or pleasure}
The bands and chiefest mutual love,
0 that's the bliss o* warld's treasure I
#
viu .flto-si 'uwfeai-flaitcr§*«rf »W
.( O{
H
j\t')l>7h Ifillturn.
i !£(i HndsJBdi oau&j.oilj od Sa'fiF) } ttJ
MARY MORIS ON.
0 Mary at thy window be,
It is the wish'd, the tryted hour !
Those smiles and glances let me see,
That make the miser's treasure poor ;
How blithly wad I bide* the stoure,
A weary slave frae sun to sun;
€k>uld I the rich reward secure,
The lovely Mary Morison.
Yestreen when to the trembling string,
The dance gaed thro' the lighted ha',
To thee my fancy took its wing,
1 sat, but neither heard nor saw :
Tho' this was fair, and that was braw,
And you the toast of a' the town,
1 sigh'd, and said amang them a',
" Ye are na Mary Morison."
I
'
SPH S £
, ' O Mary, canst thou wreck his peace,
Wha for thy sake wad gladly die ?
Or canst thou break that heart of his,
Whase only ftiut i? lo.ving thee?
If love for love thou wilt na gie,
At least be pity to me shown!
A thought ungentle canna be
The thought o' Mary Morison.
8
�SONGS.
:<>
OT >fOOO MMT WZIO
, ua-;i>. iti /jhi :>aiof, t700b 9ih inqo tdO
—
•
a o (1iO
lorfT
/nogo r- ul Oil8 t'ioofo odJ fj'aoqo er>rf
*
; obiv/
• ;h t
, ; - . • jt
• :.! '• ti •
- > .•«
W A N D E R I N G WILLIE.
* fM
/jbw
Here awa, there awfc, pandering Wilie,
Now tired with wandering, haud away hame
Come to my bosom my ae only dearie,
And tell me thou bring'st me my Willie the
same.
Loud blaw the cauld winter winds at pu^
•
parting
(TAJ YJfi
*
It was na a blast brouglifc the tear to my
:
11
JMIrV ® >
< X d<no6 i n bme •iteidwO
Now welcome the summer, and welcome my
Willie^
The simmer to nature, my Willie to me. <
<om fuioo 03 omoo ov (foih/
vlhev?
:
M8Y><ioad oiij easlnxr tut dxnoQ bnA
Ye hurricane rest in the cave o' your slum^
bers,
O how your wild horrors a lover alarms!
Awaken ye breezes, row gently ye billows,
And waft my dear laddie ance mair to my
orn
aa on > ,,».
..uu te 10 t>fiiif $ a
.•"''•- i
O[it Vti
But if.he's forgottenhis faithfullest Nannie,
O still flow between us, thou wide roaring
main;
.o».jtooi.J®Y
v
May I never see it, may X never trotw it,
But dving believe tfyat iny Willie's my ain.
9
�SONS .
OPEN THE DOOR T O ME, OT
Oh, open the door, some pity to show,
Oh, open the door to me, Oh!
Tho' thou hast been f&lse, 111 ever prove true
Oh, open the door to me, Oh !
Cauld is the blast upon my pale cheek,
But eaulder thy o ve for me, Oh!
The frost that freezes the life at my heart,
Is nought to my pains frae thee, Oh !
The wan moon is setting behind th' white wave
And time is setting with me, Oh !
False friends, false love, farewell! for mair
I'll ne'er trouble them, nor thee, Oh f
She has open'd the door, she has opened it
wide;
She sees his pale corse on the plain, Oh !
My true love, she cried, arid sank down by his
side,
Never t© rise again, Oh!—
WHISTLE, A N D I'LL COME TO Y O U
MY L A D .
O whistle and I'll come to you my lad:
O whistle and I'll come to you my lad:
Tho' father and mither and a' should gae mady
O whistle and I'll come to you, my lad.
But warily tent, when ye come to court me,
And come na unless the back-yet t be a-jee ;
Sine up the back-stile, and let na body see*,
And come as ye were na comin to me,
And come, &c.
O whistle, &c.
At kirk, or at market, whene're you see me
Gang by me as tho' ye car'd na a flie;
But steal me a blink o'your bonnie black ere
Yet look as ye were na looking at me.
Yet look, &c.
O whistle, &c.
10
�SONGS.
A y vow and protest that ye care na for me,
And whiles ye may lightly my beauty a wee;
But courtnaanither, tho'jokin ye be,
For fear that she wyle your fancy frae me.
For fear, &c.
O whistle, &e.
B O N N I E JEAN.
There was a lass, and she was fair,
At kirk and matket to be seen,
When a' the fairest maids were met,
The fairest maid was bonny Jean.
And aye she wrought her minnie's wark,
And aye she sang sae mirrilie :
The blithest bird upon the bush
Had ne'er a lighter heart than she.
But hawks will robe the tender joys
That bless the little lintwhite's nest;
And frost will blight the fairest flowr's,
And love will break the soundest rest.
Young Robie was the brawest lad,
The flower and pride of a' the glen;
And he had owsen, sheep and kye,
And waton naigies nine or ten.
He gaed wi' Jeanie to the tryste,
He danc'd wi' Jeanie on the down;
And lang ere witless Jeanie wist,
Her heart was tint, her peace was stown.
A s in the bossom o' the stream,
The moon beams dwell at dewy e'en;
So trembling, pure, was tender love,
Within the breast o' bonny Jean.
And now she works her mammie's wark
And aye she sighs wi' care and pain;
Yet wist na what her ail may be,
Or what wad mak her weel again.
But did na Jeanie's heart loup light,
And did na joy blink in her e'e,
As Robie tauld a tale o' love.
Ae e'enm' on the lily lea?
IX
�S O ^ .
T t e sttii l ^ ' p & i i i g in tfie * e s t ,
'The birds sing stteet in ilka grove 1 ;
His cheek to hers he foundly prest,
And if htepei'd timfc his ta3e o' love:
O Jeanie fair, I lo'e thee, dear^
O canst thou think to fancy me,
Or wilt thou leave t h y TEinmmie's cot,
And learn t o teiil t h e fems wi' me ?
A t barn Qr¥tre thoii shalt na drudge,
Or nathing else to trouble thee *
y
But stray amang ,tM heather bells,
And tent the waving ^orn wi'me.
Now "ivhat could artless Jeanie do ?
u I.
She had ma ^iH to say him nd: /j- u , /
>
A t length she-blush'd a sweet cbnseiit,
'
And love was aye between them t w i .
eYOf.ioi>j«9i odJ ad07 II iw aiiv/Bfi one?
A
taohiwoe
oils ilwid
IIiw e vol 1mA
oiM a£w oidofl
rn hi
M E G O' T H E MILL.
O ken ye what Meg o 7 the Mill his gotten,
An' ken y6 what Meg o' the Mill has gotten
She has gotton a coof wir a Claut o' siller.
And broken the heart o7 the Mrley Miller.
12
�SONGS.
The Miller was stfappen,the Miller was ruddy
A heart like a lord, an4 a hue like a M y :
The laird was a widdiefii', bleerit knurl
She's left the guid fellow and taen the chttrl.
The miller he hecht her a heart leal and l i v ing
[moving,
The Laird did address her tri' matter rfikir
A fine pacing horse wi'|a clear chained bridle,
A whip by her side, and a bonnie side-sadle.
. a r T & Q TYVAJXl
O wae on the siller, it is sae prevaling,
And wae on the love that is fix'd on a malen .
A tocher's nae word in a true lover's parle
But, gie me my love, ahd a fig for the WEtrl!
wonrf >' •i>hr. k -j ? J no ' m J9sM
f
rt-nitI ,'i;»ijtb teivi>a xHvsiil
; 'jv.' vid) 01ii ln*HB h i r.-v.d?
JOHN A N D E R S O N MY JO.
John Anderson my jo, John,
When we were first acquant,
Your locks were like the ravens,
Your bonny brow was brent;
But now your brow is beld, John,
Your locks are like the snow;
But blessings on your frosty pow,
John Anderson, my jo.
13
�SONGS.
John Anderson, my joe, John,
"We clamb the hill thegither,
And mony a canty day, John,
We've had wi* ane anither ;
Now we maun totter down, John,
But hand in had we'll go,
And sleep thegither at the foot,
John Anderson, my j o.
DAINTY DAVIE.
Now rosy May comes in wi' flowers,
To deck her gay, green spreading bowers,
And now comes in my happy hours,
To wander wi' my Davie.
Chorus.
Meet me on the warlock knowe,
Dainty Davie, dainty Davie,
There I'll spend the day wi' you,
My ain dear dainty Davie.
The crystal waters round us fa',
The merry birds are lovers a*,
The s«ented breezes round us blaw
A wandering wi' my Davie,
Meet me, &c.
When purple morning starts the hare,
To steal upon her early fare,
Then thro' the dews I will repair.
To meet my faithfu' Davie.
Meet me, &e.
When day, expiring in the west,
The curtain draws o* nature's rest.
I flee to his arms I lo'e best,
And that's my ain dear Davie.
Meet me, &c.
AULD L A N G SYNE.
Should
And
Should
And
auld acquaintance be forgot,
never brought to min' ?
auld acquaintance be forgot,
days o* lang syne ?
14
�SONGS.
Chorus.
For auld land syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
"We'll tak a cup a' kindness yet
For auld laug syne.
We twa hae rnn about the braes,
And pu't the gowans fine
Bu^ we've wandered mony a weary foot.
Sin auld lang syne,
For auld, &c.
We twa hae paidl't i' the burn,
Frae mornin sun till dine :
But seas between braid hae roar'd,
Sin auld lang syne.
For auld, &e.
And here's a hand my trusty fier,
And gie's a hand o* thine;
And we'll talk a guid willie-waught,
For auld lang syne,
For auld, &c.
And surely ye'll be your pint stoup>
And surely I'll be mine ;
And we'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.
For auld (^c.
BANNOCK B U R N .
Scots wha ha wi' Wallace bled,
Scots, wham Bruce has often led,
Welcome to your gory bed,
Or to glorious victory.
Now's the day and now's the hour;
See the front of battle lower;
See approach proud Edward's power—r
Edward I chaius and slavery r
Wha will be a trator knave ?
Wha would fill a coward's grave ?
Wha sae base as be a slave ?
Traitor, coward, turn and flee.
15
�SONGS.
Wha for Scotland's king and law
Freedom's sword will strongly draw,
Free-man stand or free-man fa'
Caledonia, 911 wi' me !
By oppression's woes^'and
!
By your sons in sea-vile chains,
We will dram our dearest veins,
But th§y shali be—shall be free ! <«v\- .
!
Lay the proud usurpers low !
Tyrants fall in every foe ?
liberty's in every, bio
,
Forward, let us.
or
J/lJJOl 9.RfI biiild lIOOYf lsd
1uS
.•en V . 'grr^I bix/js alti
P
t19ft
7J :i "li .:f bajii! «
ItiA
j'offiflj ?o baud s;
bnA
Ifow baA
t3/I-goiiW-9ini\Y f'tr.t^ b
,007)5 <>;irJ bfi/Biol
CONTENED WI' L I T T L E .
Contented wi' little and can tie wi' nuiir,
Whene'er I forgather wi' sorrow and care,
I gie him a skelp, as they're creeping alang
Wi'.a cod o' guid swats, and an auld Scottish
sang.
•
' ? " I whyles claw the elbow 0' troublesome
Thought;
But man is a soger, amd 1'ife is a fauglit:
it
�SONGS.
My mirth and gyid humpnr are coin in my
pouch,
And my freedom's my lairdship nae monarch
dare touch.
A twomond o' trouble, should that be my
A night o' guid fellowship sowthers it a%
When at the blithe end o' our journey at last,
Wha the deil ever thinks o' the road he has
past
Blind chanca, let her snapper and sfayte on
her way,
gae,
Be't to me, be't frae me, e'en let the jade
Come ease, or come travail, come pleasure
or pain.
My warst word is—" Welcome and welcome
1 ' n f ^ r f / ^ rr A ti?
[« };> worfa Vhnrv bnA
Mi07 ?l9noi erii oaf oiO
- ban
yyrab »dT
SHE*-.SAYS
SHE L©*ES:- M E B E S T
OF A ' .
Sae flaxen were her ringlets,
Her eyebrows of a darker hue,
B e witchin giy ! o'^r-ar ch ing
Twa laughmg' een o' bonny blue,
Her smiling sae wyling,
Wad make a wretch forget his woe ;
What pleasure,'" what treasure,
Utito these rosy lips to gvqw!
�SONGS.
Such was my Chloris' bonnie face,
When first her bonnie face I saw;
And ay my Chloris' dearest charm,
She says she lo'es me best of a'.
Like harmony her motion;
Her pretty ancle is a spy
Betraying fair proportion,
Wad make a saint forget the sky.
Sae warming, sae charming,
Her faultless form, andgracefu' air;
Ilk feature—auld nature
Declared that she could do namair.
Her's are the willing chains o' love,
By conquering beauty's sovereign law;
And aye my Chloris' dearest charms,
She says she lo'es me best of a'.
Let others love the city,
And gaudy show at sunny noon ;
Gie me the lonely valley,
The dewy eve, and rising moon:
<
Fair beaming, and streaming,
Her silvery light the boughs amang;
While falling, recalling,
The amrous thrust concludes her sang;
There, dearest Chloris, wilt thou rove
By whimpling burn and leafy shaw,
And hear my vows o' truth and love^
And say thou lo'es best of a'
O, W A T YE WHA'S IN YON
TOWN
O, wat ye wha' in yon town,
Ye see the e'ening sun upon ?
The fairest dame's in yon town,
That e'ening sun is shining on.
Now haply down yon gay green shaw,
She wanders by yon spreading tree;
How blest ye flow'rs that round her blaw,
Ye catch the glances o' her e'e.
�SONGS.
How blest ye birds that round her sing,
And welcome in the blooming year!
And doubly welcome be the spring,
The season to my Lucy dear.
The sun blinks blithe on yon town,
And on yon bonnie braes of Ayr;
But my delight in yon town,
And dearest bliss, is Lucy fair.
Without my love, not
the charms
O' Paradise could yield me joy;
But gie me Lucy in my arms,
And welcome Lapland's dreary sky.
My cave wad be a lover's bower,
Tlio' raging winter rent the air :
And she a lovely little flower,
That I wad tent and shelter there.
O, sweet is she in yon town,
Yon sinkin sun's gane down upon,
A fairer than's in yon town.
His setting beam ne'er shone upon.,
If angry fate is sworn my foe,
And suffering I am doom'd to bear;
I careless quit aught else below.
But spare me, spare me, Lucy dear.
For while life's dearest blood is warm,
Ae thought frae her shall ne'er depart,
And she—as fairest is her form,
She has the truest kindest heart.
\vd m i d a i r
.h^ibwoo alT
.j^rf* 'J- tot ™oq od o-ifii) oW
ft > BBitiiB18 e,j
LASSIE
wr
THE
LINT
WHITE
LOCKS.
lOlZCfT li jiU •.: J
/." bilis
Vhorus.
i' -. 'i'ioflt ?.TxO-'n oiO
Lassie wi' the lint-white locks,
Bonnie lassie, artless lassie,
Wilt thou wi' me tend the flocks,
Wilt thou be my dearie, O ?
19
�SONGS.
Now nature cleeds the flowery lea,
And a' is young and sweet like thee ;
O wilt thou share its sweets wi' me,
And say thou'lt be my dearie, O
La^ie wi', &c.
•
And when the welcome simmer-shower
Has cheered ilk drooping little flower,
We'll to the breathing woodbine bower
A t sultry noon my dearie, O.
Las&ie wi', &c,
When Cynthia lights, with silver ray,
The weary shearer's hameward way ;
Thro' yellow waving fields we'll stray,
And talk o' love my dearie, O.
Lassie wi', &c.
And when the howling wintry blast
Disturbs my lassie's midnight rest ;
Enclasped to my faithfu' breast,
I'll comfort thee, my dearie, O.
Lassie wi', &c.
\
.•:
>m
.0U£
FOR A' T H A T A N D A' THAT.
J'mq& itfzHS IIisifH -nd eatf iif^uorft 9 A
Is there, for honest poverty.
That hangs his head and a' that,
The coward slave we pass him by,
We dare be poor for a' that.
For a' that an a' that.
Our toils obscure, and a' that,
The rank is but the guinea's stamp,
The man's the gowd for a' that.
What tho' on hamely fare we dine,
Wear hodden gray an' a' that,
Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine,
A man's a man for a' that.
For a' that and a' that,
Their tinsel show and a'that,
The honest man, tho' ne'er sae poor,
Is king o' men for a' that.
20.
�SONG&
Y e see yon birkie ca'd a lord,
Wha struts, an' stares, an' a' that,
Tho' hundreds worship J at his wbrd',;
He's but a coof for a ' t ^ a t . ^ worioa Jtr££
For a' that anil .a' that,
..
His riband ;( star, a o d j i ' that,
The man of independ^t nwid r
He looks and laughs at a' that. ..
A prince can mak a belted knight, ;
'
A marquis, duke, and a' that,
But an honest' man's aboon his might,
Guid faith he mauna fa' that I
F o r a' that and a' that*
Their dignities and a ' t h a t ,
The pith o' sense, and pride o' worth
Are higher ranks than a' that.
, ' .;
I I >- r - i -'Hi
..
Then let us pray that pome it may,
A s come it will for a' that,
That sense- and worth o'er a' the earth,
May bear the gree and a' that>
F o r a ' t h a t and a ' t h a t ,
It's coming yet for a' that,
That man to man the warld <5'br,
Shall brothers, be for a' that,
' t-,h&H i'Sd m Tiff 9% 'Sittbaff I
v/Cr 'a 'Ur sodx 'coB!
9B8 Hoof 'jmbeen o T
Z 'l t e s d I , / d d i T O
TIBBY I HAE SEEN THE DAY.
.TTTAM O /IO:W A (VYl'dUtl Y J J I W
Chorus.
,'
0 Tifcbv, I hae seen the day,
Y e would na bo ^ae shy,
For laik o' gear ye lightly me,
But, trowth, I care, na by.
Yestr^eoi I met you on the moor,
Y e spak na, but gaed by like stoure :
Y e geek at me t|ceause I'm ppor,
But fi'.ent a Jlare care I ?
O Tibby, &c.
1 doubt na, lass, but ye may think,
Because ye hae the name o' eMuk,
21
�SONGS.
That ye can please me at a winkj
Whene'er ye like to try.
O Tibby I hae, &c.
nr
But sorrow tak' him that's sae mean,
Although his pouch o' coin were clean,
Wha follows ony saucy quean,
AT
That looks sae proud and high.
O Tibby, I hae, &c.
Altho' a lad were ne'er so smart,
If that he want the yellow dirt,
Ye'll cast your head auither airt,
And answer him fu' dry.
O Tibby, I hae, &c.
But if he hae the uame o' gear,
Ye'11 fasten to him like a brier,
Tho' hardly he for sense or lear,
Be better than the kye.
O Tibby, I hae, &o.
But, Tibby, lass, tak' my advice,
Your daddie's gear make ycu sae nice;
The deil a ane wad spier your price,
Were ye as poor as I,
O Tibby, I hae, &c.
There lives a lass in yonder park,
I wadna' gie her in her sark,
For thee wi' a' thy thousand mark;
Ye needna' look sae high.
O Tibby, I hae, &c.
'
'
"
•
WILLY BREW'D A PECK O' MAUT.
O, Willie brew'd a peck o' mau't,
And Rab and Allan cam to see;
Three blither hearts, that lee-lang night,
Ye wadna'find in Christendie.
We are na' fov, we'rena that fou,
But just a drappy in our e'e ;
The cock may craw, the day may daw,
But aye we'll taste the barley bree.
Jlere are we met, three merry boys,
Three merry boys I trow are we;
And mony a night we've merry been,
And mony mair we hope to be.
We are na fou, &c.
22
�SONGS.
It is the moon, I ken her horn,
That's blinkin' in the lift sae high;
She shines sae bright to wyle us hame,
But, by my sooth, she'll wait a wee,
"We are na fou, &c.
Wha first shall rise to gang awa,
A cuckold, coward loon is he,
Wha last beside his chair shall fa'
H e is the king amang us three.
We are na fou, &c.
BlO
W H A T CAN A YOUNG LASSIE D O
.....
WI' A N AULD M A N ?
What ean a young lassie, what shall a young
lassie,
What can a young lassie do wi' an auld
man ?
Bad luck to the penny that tempted my
minnie,
T o sell her poor Jenny for siller an' lan',
Bad luek
the penny, &o.
o r . He's always oompleenin, raornin to e'enin,
He hosts an' he hirples the weary day lang,
He's dole and he's dozen his bluid it is frozen
0 dreary's the night wi' a crazy auld man,
He hums and he hankers, he frets and he
cankers,
1 never can please him do a' that I can;
He's peevish and jealous of a' the young
ei: —
fellows:
O, 4oo! on the day I met wi' an auld man,
01.
02. My auld auntie Katie upon me taks pity,
I'll do my endeavour to follow her plan;
12,
I'H erOss him, and wrack him, until I heartbreak him, • u! C
22.
And then his auld brags will buy me anew
pan.
,.. c a£ffi via,: ii£
�moil 'ion no>l I Jroom Offi si JI
CONTENTS.
.,! - T ft4
tn^'M •
ciMiiiirf .>;• -
.rwg - acv, oi oah IteiiafcrrftfiriV/"
Lord Gregory,.,,
................................ 3
Highland
4
Clarinda,
5
My Wiije 's a .Winsome Wee
T h i n g , 6
To Mary,
6
Galla Water,:..
Mary Morison,
8
Wandering Willie,
9
Open the Door to me*, O . . . . . . .vj. ...
_
. T
. r-rhrt
Bonnip Jean,
......
Meg o' the Mill,
.. 10
, .
~
12
Whistle,and I'll come to you, my M , . , ; ^ . 1 0
Dainty Davie,
Auld Lang
Bannockbura,.
...
.... .....
14
r
14
Htrmfvtff" 1 5
She says she lo'es me best of
Wat ye wha's in yon town,.
Lassie wi' the lint white locks..^...q..**;••••«••••-••
19
Contented wi' little,.
For a' that and a' that...................
16
—.20
Tibby I ha'e $ee,n the day*.
Willy brew'd a peck o' maut...<.
22
John can a young jo,
13
What Anderson my lassie d^ wi' an auld man?...23
�
Dublin Core
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Title
A name given to the resource
Woodcut 031: Title-page illustration of a man wearing a hat, long coat, and long striped socks, leaning against a walking stick in an outdoor scene.
Document
A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text.
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Burns' Songs. No.1. Illustrated.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
<a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9923277513505154">s0556b39</a>
Contributor
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Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada
Rights
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In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413
Extent
The size or duration of the resource.
24 pages and 11 Woodcuts
16 m
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
ca.1860 per National Library of Scotland
Format
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JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner.
Creator
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Burns, Robert, 1759-1796
Publisher
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Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers
Source
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Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario
Type
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poetry
Subject
The topic of the resource
Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow
# of Woodcuts: 11
Bib Context: title-page
Chapbook Date: 1851-1860
Chapbook Date: 1861-1870
Chapbook Genre: ballads & songs
Chapbook Publisher - Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers
Fashion (Clothing): Highland attire
Fashion (Clothing): working class
Gender: man/men
Nature: hill(s)
Object: sporran/purse
Object: walking stick/ staff
Outdoor Scene
-
https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/f5eb91ffd7c91253585047a7d6b04c57.pdf
c3d013735c972c66687142334b8b3854
PDF Text
Text
THE
Wife of Beith;
With a description of her
JOURNEY TO HEAVEN.
FALKIRK
PRINTED F R THE BOOKSELLERS.
O
�THE
W I F E OF B E I T H .
In Beith once dwelt a worthy wife,
Of whom brave Chaucer mention makes
She lived a licentious life,
And namely in venereal acts ;
But death did come for all her cracks,
When years were spent and days outdriven,
Then suddenly she sickness takes,
Deceast forthwith and went to heaven.
But as she went upen the way.
There followed her a certain guide ;
And kindly to her did say,
Where mean you dame for to abide ?
I know you are the Wife of Beith,
And would not then that you go wrong
For I'm your friend, and will not loath
That you go thro' this narrow throng,
This way is broader,
with me.
And very pleasant is the way ;
I'll bring thee where you would be,
Go with me friend say me not nay.
She looked on him. then did speer,
I pray you sir, what is your name ?
Show me the way how came you here?
T o tell it to me is no shame.
�3
Is that a favour 'bout your neck ?
And what is that upon your side ?
Is it a bag or silver sack ?
What are you then where do you bide ?
I was a servant unto Christ,
And Judas likewise is my name.
I knew you by your colours first.
Forsooth indeed you are to blame;
Your master did you not betray ?
And hang yourself when ye had done ?
Where'er you bide I will not stay ;
Go then you knave let me alone.
Whatever I be I'll be your guide,
Becauseyoui know not well the way
;
Will you at once in me confide,
I'll do all friendship that I may.
What would you me ?
Where do you dwell,
I have nought will go with t h e e ;
I fear it is some lower cell,
I pray thee therefore let me be.
This is a stormy night and cold,
I'll bring you to a warmer inn ;
Will you g o forward and be bold,
And mend your pace till ye win in.
I fear your inn will be too warm,
For too much hotness is not b e s t ;
Such hotness there may do me harm,
And keep me that I do not r e s t ;
I know your way it is to hell.
For you are not one of the eleven ;
�4
Go haste you then unto your cell,
My way is only unto heaven.
That way is by the gates of hell,
I f you intend there for to go,
Go dame I will not you compel,
Bnt I with you will go also.
Then down they went a right steep
hill,
Where Smoke and darkness did abound
And pitch and sulphur burned still,
With yells and cries hills did resound,
T h e fiend himself came to the gate,
And asked him where he had been ;
D o you not know and have forgot,
Seeking this wife could not be seen.
Good dame said he will you be here
I pray you then tell me your name ;
T h e wife of Beith since that you speer,
But to come in I were to blame,
I will not have you then good dame
For you were mistress of the flyting,
If once within this gate you come,
I will be troubled with your biting.
Cummer go back and let me be,
H ere are too many of your rout
For women lewd like unto thee,
I cannot turn my foot about.
Sir thief I say i shall bide out,
But gossip thou wast ne'er to me
For to come in, I'm not so stout,
And of my biting thou'st be free
;
;
;
�5
But Lucifer what's that on thee ?
Hast thou no water in this place?
Thou look'st so black it seems to me,
Thou ne'er dost wash thy ugly face;
If we had water here to drink,
We would not care for washing then,
Into these flames and filthy stink.
We burn with fire in the doom:
Upbraid me then good wife no more,
For first when I heard of the name ;
Iknewthou had such words in store,
Would make the devil to think shame.
Forsooth Sir thief thou art to blame,
If I had time now to abide ;
Once ye were well but may think shame
That lost heaven for rebellious pride;
Who traitor-like fell with the rest,
Because ye would not be content,
And now of bliss are dispossest,
Without all grace for to repent,
Thou made'st poor Eve long since
consent,
To eat of the forbidden tree ;
(Which we her daughters may repent)
And made us almost like to thee ;
But God be blest who past thee by.
And did a Saviour provide ;
For Adam's whole posterity,
All those who do in him confide,
Adieu false fiend, I may not bide,
With thee I may no longer stay ;
�6;
My God in death he was my Guide,
O ' e r hell I'll get the victory.
Then up the hill the poor wife went
Opprest with stinking flames and fear.
Weeping right sore with great relent.
For to go else she wist not w h e r e ;
a narrow way with thorns and briers,
and full of mires was here b e f o r e ;
She sighed oft with sobs and tears.
T h e poor wife's heart was wond 4 rous
sore;
Tired and torn she went on still,
Sometimes she sat and sometimes fell,
aye till she came to a high hill,
and then she looked back to hell.
When that she had climb'd up the hill,
Before her was a goodly plain ;
Where she did rest and weep her fill,
Then rose and to her feet again.
H e r heart was glad the way was good
Up to the hill she hied with haste,
T h e flowers were fair where there she
stood,
The field were pleasant to her taste.
Then she espied Jerusalem,
O n Zion's mount where that it stood:
Shining with gold light as the sun,
H e r silly soul was then right glad ;
T h e ports of pearls shining bright,
Were very glorious to behold,
With precious stones gave such a light
�7
T h e walls were of transparent gold;
high were the walls the gates were shut
and long she thought for to be in
But then for fear of biding out,
She knocked hard and made some din.
T o knock and cry she did not spare
Till father Adam did her h e a r ;
Who is't that raps so rudely there,
Heaven cannot well be won by weir;
T h e wife of Beith since that you spier,
Hath stood these two hours at the gate.
Go back quoth he, thou must forbear,
Here may no sinners entrance get.
Adam, quoth she, I shall be in,
In spite of all such churls as thee
T h o u ' r t the original of all sin.
For which thou art not flyting free.
But for thy soul offences fled.
Adam went back and let her be,
Looking as if his nose had bled.
Then mother Eve did at him speer,
Who was it there that made such din?
He said, a woman would be here,
For me I durst not let her in.
I'll go, said she, and ask her will,
Her company I would have fain ;
But aye she cried and knocked still,
And in no ways she would refrain.
Daughter, said Eve, you will do well,
T o come again another t i m e ;
Heaven is not won by sword or steel,
;
;
�8
Nor none that's guilty of a crime.
Mother said she, the fault is thine,
That knocking here so long I stand;
Thy guilt is more than that of mine,
If thou wilt rightly understand,
Thou wast the cause of all our sin,
Wherein we were born and conceived.
Our misery thou did'st begin,
By thee thy husband was deceiv'd.
Eve went back where Noah was,
and told him all how she was blam'd
Of her great sin and first trespass,
Whereof she was so much asham'd.
Then Noah said i will go down,
and will forbid her that she knock ;
Go back, he said, ye drunken lawn,
Your none of the celestial flock.
Noah she said, now hold thy peace,
Where I drank ale thou didst drink wine
Discover'd was to thy disgrace,
When thou wast full like to a swine,
If I was drunk I learned at the
For thou'rt the father and the first,
T h a t others taught and likewise me,
T o drink when as we had no thirst.
Then Noah turned back with speed
and told the patriarch Abra'am then,
How that the carlin made him dread,
And how she all his deeds did ken.
Abra'am then said now get you gone
Let us no more hear of your din ;
�9
No lying wife as I suppose,
May enter in these gates within.
Abra'am, she said will you but spare
I hope you are not flyting free ;
You of yourself had such a care,
Deny'd your wife and made a lie;
Go then I pray you let me be
For I repent of all my sin;
Do thou but ope the gates to me,
and let me quietly come in.
Abra'am went back to Jacob then,
and told his grandson how to speed,
How that of her nothing he wan,
an I that he thought the carlin mad,
Then down came J a t o b thro' the close
and said go backward clown to h e l l ;
Jacob quoth she I know your voice,
That gate pertaineth to thyself,
Of thy old trumpheries I can tell,
With two sisters thou led'st thy life,
and the third part of these tribes twelve
Thou got with maids besides thy wife ;
and stole thy father's bennison,
Only by fraud thy father frae ;
Gave thou not him for venison,
A kid instead of breaken rae ?
Jacob himself was tickled so
H e went to Lot where he was lying,
and to the gate prayed him to go,
T o staunch the carlin of her crying
Lot says fair dame make less ado,
�10
and come again another day.
Old harlot carle and drunkard too,
Thou with thine own two daughters lay
Of thine untimely se d I say,
Proceeded never good hut ill.
Poor Lot for shame then stole away,
And left the wife to knock her fill,
Meek Moses then went down at last,
T o pacify the carlin then ;
Now dame said he, knock not so fast,
Your knocking will not let you ben.
Good sir, she said, I am aghast,
Whene'er i look you in the f a c e ;
If that your law till now had last,
Then surely I had ne'er got g r a c e :
But Moses, sir, now by your leave,
although in heaven you be possesst,
For all you saw did not believe.
But you in Horeb once transgressed,
Wherefore by all it is confest.
You hut got up the land to see,
and in the mount were put to rest,
Yea buried there where you did die.
Moses meekly turned back,
and told his brother Aaron there,
How the old carlin did so crack,
and in no ways did him forbear.
Then Aaron said, I will not swear.
But I'll conjure her as I can ;
and I will make her now forbear,
So that she shall not rap again.
�11
Then Aaron said, you whorish wife,
Get you gone anil rap no more ;
(With idols you have led your life,)
Or then you will repent it sore,
(rood Aaron priest I know you well,
This golden calf you may remember.
Who made the people plagues to see.
T h e is of you recorded ever ;
your priesthood now is nothing worth,
Christ is my only priest, and he.
My lord, who shall not keep me forth,
So I'll get in in spite of thee.
U p started Sampson at the length,
Unto the gate apace came he,
T o drive away the wife with strength,
But all in vain it would not he.
Sampson, quoth she, t h e world may
Thou was a judge that proved unjust ;
Those gracious girts which God gave
thee,
Thou lost by thy licentious lust,
From Delila thy wicked wife,
Thy secrets chief couldst not refrain,
She daily sought to take thy life,
Thou lost thy locks and then was slain.
Though thou wast strong it was in vain
Haunted with harlots here and there,
Then Sampson turned back again,
And with the wife would mell nae mair,
T h e n said king David knock no more,
�12
We are troubled with thy cry,
David quoth she, how cam'st thou
here ?
Thou might'st bide out as well as I,
Thy deeds no ways thou canst deny,
Is not thy sin far worse than mine ?
Who with Uriah's wife did lie,
And caus'd him to be murder'd syne,
Then Jedith said who's there that
knocks,
And to our neighbour gives these notes
Madam said she let be your macks,
I came not here for cutting throats:
I am a sinner full of blots,
Yet through Christ's blood I shall be
clean.
If you and I be judged by votes,
T h e thing you did was worse than mine
Then said the sapient Solomon,
Thou art a sinner all men say,
Therefore our Saviour, I suppose.
Thee heavenly entrance will deny,
Mind quoth she thy latter days,
What idol gods thou did upset,
And wast so lewd in Venus' plays,
Thou didst thy maker quite forget.
Then Jonas said fair dame content
you,
If you intend to come to grace.
You must dree penance and repent you
Ere you come within this place.
�13
Jonas quoth she how stands the case ?
How came you here to be with Christ?
How dare you look me in the face ?
Considering how you broke your tryst,
To go God's errand thou withstood him
And held this council in disdain ;
The raven messenger thou play'd him,
And brought no message back again
With mercy thou wastnotcontent,
When that the Lord he did them spare
Although the city did repent,
It grieved thee thy heart was sair :
Let me alone and speak no more,
Go back again into the whale,
For now my heart isalsosore,
But yet I hope I shall prevail.
Good Jonas said crack on your fill,
For here I may no longer tarry,
Yet knock as long as e'er you will,
And go into a firry farry.
Jonas she says ye do miscarry,
As I have done in former time,
You're no Saint Peter nor Saint Mary,
T h y blot's as black as ever mine,
So Jonas then he was asham'd,
Because he was not fly ting free,
Of all his faults she had him blam'd
He left the wife and let her be.
Saint Thomas then I council thee,
Go speak unto yon wicked wife,
She shames u s all, and as for me,
�14
Her like I never heard all my life.
Thomas then said, you make such
din,
When you are out, and meikle din
If you were here, I'll lay my life.
No peace the saints would get within;
I t is your trade for to be flyting,
Still in a fever as one raves.
N o marvel though you wives be biting,
Your tongues are m a l e of aspen leaves
Thomas quoth she, let be your taunts,
You play the pick-thank I perceive,
Though ye be brother to the saints,
An unbelieving heart you have ;
Thou brought the Lord unto the grave.
But would no more with him remain,
And wast the last of all the lave,
T h a t did believe he rose again,
There mi^ht no doctrine do thee good,
Nor miracles make thee confide,
Till thou beheld Christ's wounds and
blood,
And put'st thy hands unto his side ;
Didst thou not daily with him bide,
And see the wonders which he wrought
But blest are they who do confide,
And do believe yet saw him n o t ;
Thomas, she says, will you speer,
If that my sister Magdalene,
Will come to me if she be here ;
For comfort sure you give me nane.
�15
H e was so blythe he turned back,
and thanked God that he was gane,
He had no will to hear her crack,
But told it Mary Magdalene.
When she did hear her sister's mocks,
She went unto the gate with speed :
and asked her who is't that knocks?
'Tis I, the wife of Btith indeed,
She said good mistress you must stand
Till ye be tried by tribulation.
Sister, quoth she, give me your hand,
are we not both of one vocation?
It is not through your occupation,
That you are placed so divine,
My faith is fixed on Christ's passion.
My soul shall be as safe as thine.
Then Mary went away in haste,
T h e carlin made her so asham'd,
She had no will of such a guest,
T o lose her pains and be so blamed.
Now good St. Paul, said Magdalene,
Because you are a learned man,
Go and convince this woman then,
For I have done all that I can :
Sure if she were in hell I doubt,
They would not keep her longer there
Cut to the gate would turn her out ;
and send her back to be elsewhere.
Then went the good apostle Paul,
T o put the wife in better tune.
Wash off the filth that fyles thy soul,
�16
Then shall heav'n's gates be open soon.
Remember Paul what thou hast done,
For the epistles thou didst compile,
Though now thou sittest up above,
Thou persecuted Christ awhile.
Woman he said, thou art not right,
That which I did, I did not know;
But thou did sin with all thy might,
Although the preachers did thee show,
Saint Paul, she said, it is not So,
I did not know as well as ye,
But I will to my Saviour go;
Who will his favour show to me ;
You think you are of flyting free,
Because you were wrapt up above.
But yet it was Christ's grace to thee,
and matchlessness of his dear love,
Then, Paul she says let Peter come,
If he be lying let him rise,
To him I will confess my sin.
and let him quickly bring the keys.
Too long I stand, he'll let me in,
For why I cannot longer tarry,
Then shall ye all be quit of din,
For I must speak with good saint Mary.
The good apostle discontent,
Right suddenly he turned back,
For he did very much repent,
T o hear the carlin proudly crack,
Paul says good brother now arise,
and make an end of all this din,
�17
And if be so you have the keys,
Open andletthecarlinin;
T h e apostle Paul arose at last,
and to the gate with speed he he hies,
Carlin quoth he knock not so fast,
You cumber Mary with your cries.
Peter she said let Christ arise,
and grant me mercy in my need ;
For why, I ne'er denied him thrice,
as though thyself hast done indeed.
Thou calling bold what's that to thee ?
I got remission for my sin ;
It cost many sad tears to me,
Before I entered here within.
I will not be thy muckle din,
Will cause heaven gates opened be,
Thou must be purified of sin ;
and of all sins must be made free.
Saint Peter then its nought to you
That you were rid of your fears,
It was Christ's gracious look I trow
That made ye wipe those bitter tears,
T h e door of mercy is not closed,
I may get grace as well as ye,
It is not so as ye supposed
I will be in, in spiteofthee.
But wicked wife it is too late,
Thou shouldest have mourn'd upon
earth,
Repentance now is out of date :
I should have been before thy death ;
�18
Thou mightest then have turned wrath
T o mercy then and mercy great,
But now the Lord is very loth,
and all thy crys not worth a jot.
Ah ! Peter then what shall I do?
H e will not hear me as i hear,
Shall I despair of mercy too!
No, no, I,ll trust in mercy d e a r :
and if I perish here I'll stay,
and never go from heaven bright;
I'll ever hope and always pray,
TntilIget my Saviour's sight.
I think indeed you now are right,
if you had faith you would win in ;
Importune then with all your might,
Faith is the feet wherewith you come.
It is the hands will hold him fast
But weak faith never may presume ;
'Twill let you sink and be aghast.
Stongly believe, or your undone.
But good Saint Peter, let me be,
Had you such faith did it abound ?
When you did walk upon the sea,
Were ye not likely to he drown'd ?
Had not our Saviour helped thee,
Who came and took thee by the hand ;
So can my Lord dountoto me,
and bring me to the promised land,
Is my faith weak ? Yea he is still
T h e same and ever shall remain ;
His mercies last and his good will,
�19
T o bring me to his flock a g a i n ;
H e will me help and me relieve,
and will increase my faith also,
If weakly I can but believe,
For from this place I'll never go.
But Peter said how can that be?
How dar'st thou look him in the face ?
Such horrid sinners like to thee,
Can have no courage to have grace ;
Here none comes in but they that's
stout,
and suffer'd have for the good cause?
Like unto thee are keeped cut.
For thou hast kroken all Moses' laws.
Peter she said, I do appeal,
From Moses and from thee also,
With him and you I'll not prevail,
But to my Saviour I will go;
Indeed of old you were right stout,
When ysu did cut off Malchus' ear ;
But after that you went about.
And a poor maid then did you fear.
Wherefore Saint Peter do forbear,
A comforter indeed your n o t ;
Let me alone, I do not fear,
Take home the wissel of your g r o a t ;
Was it your own or Paul's good sword
When that your courage was so keen,
You were right stout upon my word,
Then you would fain at fishing been
For ere the crowing of the cock,
;
�20
You did deny your master thrice.
For all your stoutness turned: a block,
Now flyte no more if ye be wise.
Yet at the last the Lord arose,
Environed with angels bright.
And to the wife in haste he goes,
Desir'd
her to pass out of sight,
O Lord quoth she, cause me do right
But not according to my sin,
have you not promised day and night,
When sinners knocks to let them in ?
He said thou wrests the scriptures
wrong.
The night is come thou spent the day
In whoredom thou hast lived long,
And do repent thou didst d e l a y ;
Still my commandments thou abus'd
And vice committed busily,
Since now my mercy thou refused,
Go down to hell eternally,
O Lord, my sou! doth testify,
That I have spent my life in vain ;
Ah ! make a wandering sheep of me,
And bring me to thy flock again.
Think'st thou there is no count to
crave,
Of all these gifts in thee was planted,
I gave thee beauty 'bove the lave,
A pregnant wit thou never wanted.
Master, quoth she it must be granted,
My sins are great give me contrition ;
�21
The forlorn son when he repented.
Obtain'd his father's full remission.
I spar'd my judgment many times,
And sp'ritual pastors did thee send ;
But thou renew'd'st thy former crimes,
Aye more and more me to offend.
My Lord, quoth she, I do amend,
Lamenting for my former vice,
The poor thief at the latter end,
For one word went to paradise.
T h e thief heard never of my teachings,
My heavenly precepts and my laws,
But thou wast daily at my preachings,
Both heard and saw and yet misknows,
Master quoth she the scriptures shows,
T h e Jewish womanwhoplay'dthelown,
Conform unto the Hebrew laws,
Was brought to thee to he put down ;
But nevertheless thou let'st her go,
And made the Pharisee's afraid.
Indeed, says Christ, it was right so,
And that my bidding was obey'd,
Woman, he said, I may not cast,
The children's bread to dog's like thee,
Although my mercies yet do last,
There's mercy here but none for thee,
But, loving Lord, may I presume,
Poor worm, that I may speak again,
The dogs for hunger were undone,
And for the crumbs they were right
fain ;
�22
Grant me one crumb that then doth fall
From thy blest children's table Lord,
That I may be refresh'd withal,
It will me help enough afford.
The gates of mercy now are clos'd,
And thou canst hardly enter in ;
It is not so as thou supposed.
For thou art deadly sick in sin.
'Tis true indeed my lord most meek,
My sore and sickness I do f e e l ;
Yet thou the lamb dost truly seek,
Who lay long at Bethseda's pool,
Of that thee never sought,
Like to the poor Samaritan;
Whom thou into thy fold has brought,
Even as thou didst the widow of Nain :
Most gracious God, didst thou not bid
All that were weary come to thee ?
Behold I come! even o'erload
With sin, have mercy upon me.
The issues of thy soul are great,
Thou art both leprous and unclean,
To be with me thou art not fit,
Go from me then, let me alone.
Let me thy garments once but touch,
My bloody issue will be whole,
It will not cost thee very much,
To save a poor distressed soul.
Speak thou the word I shall be whole,
One look of thee shall do me good,
Save now good lord my silly soul,
�23
Bought with thine own most precious
blood.
Let me alone, none of my blood,
Was ever shed for such as thee,
It was my mercy patience good.
Which from damnation set them free.
I t is confest thou hast been just,
Altho' thou had condemned m e ;
But O ! thy mercies still do last,
T o save the soul that trust in thee :
Let me not then condemned be.
Most humbly Lord, I thee request,
Of sinners all none, like me,
So much the more thy praise shall last,
Thy praising me is profite,
My saints shall praise me evermore:
In sinners I have no delight,
Such sacrifice I do abhor.
Then she unto the Lord did say,
At footstool of thy grace I'll lie ;
Sweet Lord my God say me not nay,
For if I perish here I'll die.
Poor silly wretch then speak no more,
Thy faith poor soul hath saved thee ;
Enter thou into my glory,
And rest through all eternity.
How soon our Saviour these words
said,
A long white robe to her was given ;
And then the angels did her lead
Forthwith within the gates of heaven ;
�24
A laurel crown set on her Head.
Spangled with rubies and with gold ;
A bright white palm she always had,
Glorious itWas for to behold ;
Her face did shine like to the sun,
like threads of gold her hair hung down
Her eyes like lamps unto the moon :
Of precious stones rich Was her crown,
Angels and saints did welcome her,
T h e heavenly choir did sing rejoice ;
King David with his harp was t h e r e ;
The silver bells gave a great noise.
Such music and such melody,
Was neither ever heard or seen,
When this poor saint was plac'd t o high
And of her sins made freely clean ;
But then when thus she Was possest,
And looked back on all her fears,
And that she was come to her rest,
Free'd from her sins, and all her tears,
She from her head did take the crown,
Giving all praise to Christ on high,
And at his feet she laid it down,
For that the Lamb hath m a d e her free,
Now doth she sing triumphantly,
And shall rejoice for evermore
O'er death and hell victoriously,
With lasting spirits laid in store.
FINIS. .
�
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Illustration on title-page of the Resurrection showing Jesus Christ rising from the tomb in a burst of light with 4 soldiers displayed in pairs of two on the ground.
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Woodcut 075:Title-page illustration in single ruled border of the Resurrection showing Jesus Christ rising from the tomb in a burst of light with 4 soldiers displayed in pairs of two on the ground.
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Title
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The Wife of Beith: With a Description of Her Journey to Heaven
Language
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English
Identifier
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<a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9923445103505154">s0074b23</a>
Abstract
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Inspired by Chaucer’s Wife of Bath, this tale describes the Wife’s journey after death. As the Wife travels first to hell and then to heaven, she is rejected by the Devil – who does not wish to be harried by her scornful tongue – and then a long number of biblical characters in heaven due to her many earthly transgressions. The Wife’s flyting appalls and shames all of these characters until she ultimately comes before Christ who at first rejects her as well, but then ultimately accepts her when she submits faithfully to him.
Contributor
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Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada
Format
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JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner.
Rights
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In the public domain; For higher quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413
Extent
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24 pages
15 cm
Date
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ca.1840-1850
Publisher
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Falkirk: Printed for the Booksellers
Subject
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Religion and Morals
Chapbooks - Scotland - Falkirk
Source
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Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario
Creator
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Chaucer, Geoffrey, -1400
Description
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Woodcut #75: Illustration on title-page of the Resurrection showing Jesus Christ rising from the tomb in a burst of light with 4 soldiers displayed in pairs of two on the ground.
Type
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poetry
# of Woodcuts: 1
Bib Context: title-page
Chapbook Date: 1841-1850
Chapbook Genre: religion & morals
Chapbook Publisher - Falkirk: Printed for the Bookseller
Gender: man/men
Nature: cloud(s)
Nature: tree(s)
Occupation: soldier
Religious Figures: Jesus Christ
-
https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/6beedec18e2a31cdb1483ec32c147fc4.pdf
6dbde01f3accedc1419588129af841fd
PDF Text
Text
THE
Wife of Beitk
With a description of her
JOURNEY TO HEAVEN.
FALKIRK
PRINTED F R THE BOOKSELLERS.
O
�THE
i
W I F E
OF
B E I T H t
In Beith once dwelt a worthy wife,
Of whom brave Chaucer mention makes
She lived alicentiot s life,
And namely in venereal acts ;
Bnt death did come for all her cracks,
When years were spent and days outdriven,
Then suddenly she sickness takes,
Deceast forthwith and went to heaven.
But as she went upen the way.
There followed 1 er a certain guide ;
And kindly to her did say,
Where mean you dame for to abide ?
I know you are the Wife of Beith,
And would not then that you go wrong
For I'm your friend, and will not loath
That you i»o thro 4 this narrow throng,
This way is broader,
with me.
And very pleasant is the way ;
I'll bring thee where you would be,
Go with me friend say me not nay.
She looked on him. then did speer,
I pray you sir, what is your name ?
Show me the way how came you here?
T o tell it to me is no shame.
�s
Is that a favour 'bout your neck ?
And what is that upon your side ?
Is it a bag or silvei sack ?
What are you then where do you bide ?
I was a servant unto Christ,
And Judas likewise is my name.
I knew you by your colours first.
Forsooth indeed you are to blame;
Your master did you not betray ?
And hang yourself when ye had done ?
Where'er you bide I will not stay ;
Go then yo'i knave let me alone.
Whatever I be I'll be your gtiidf*,
Because yo i know not well the way j
Will you at once in me confide,
I'll do rill friendship that 1 may.
What would you me ?
Where do you dwell,
I have nought will go with t h e e ;
I fear it is some lower cell,
I pray thee therefore let me be.
This is a stormy night and cold,
III bring you to a warmer inn ;
Will you g o forward and be bold,
And mend your pace till ye win in.
I fear your inn will be too warm,
For too much hotness is not b e s t ;
Such hotness there may do me harm,
And keep me that I do not r e s t ;
I know your way it is to hell.
For you are not one of the eleven ;
�4
Go haste you then unto your cell,
My way is only unto heaven.
That way is by the gates of hell,
I f you intend there for to go,
Go dame I will not you compel,
Bnt I with you will go also.
Then down they went a right steep
hill,
Where Smbke and darkness did abound
And pitch and sulphur burned still,
With yells and cries hills did resound,
T h e fiend himself cime to the gate,
And asked him where he had been ;
D o you not know and have forgot,
Seeking this wife could not be »een.
Good dame said he will you be here
I pray you then tell me your name ;
T h e wife of Beith since lltat you speer,
But to come in 1 were to blame,
I will not have you then good dame
For you were mistress of the fly ting,
If once within this gaite you come,
I will be troubled with your biting.
Cummer go back and let me be,
II ere are too many of youi rout j
For women lewd like unto thee,
I cannot turn my foot about.
Sir t! let I say i shall bide out,
But gossip thou wast ne'er to me y
For to come in, I'm not so stout,
And of my biting thoil'st be free j
�5
Bill Lucifer what that on thee ?
Hast thou n?o'water in this place P
Thou look'st so black it seems to mei
Thou nener drost wash thy ugly face;
If we had water here to drink,
We would not care for washing then,
Into these flames and filthy stink.
We burn with fire in the doom:
Upbraid me then good wife no more,
For first when I heard of the name ;
1 knevr thou had such words in store,
Would make the devil to think shame.
Forsooth Sir thief thou art to blame,
If I had time now to abide ;
Once ye were well but may think shame
That lost heaven for rebellious pride;
Who traitor-like -fell with the rest,
Because ye would not be content,
And now of bliss are dispossest,
Without all grace for to repent,
Thou made'st poor Eve long since
consent,
To eat of the forbidden tree ;
(Which we her daughters may repent)
And made us almost like to thee j
But God be blest who past thee by.
And did a Saviour provide ;
For /fdam's w hole posterity,
All those who do in him confide,
Adieu false fiend, I may not bide,
With thee I may no longer stay ;
�6;
My God in death he was my Guide*
O ' e r hell I'll pet the victory.
Then up the hill the poor wife went
Opprest with stinking flames and fear.
Weeping right sore with gieat relent.
For to go else she wist not w h e r e ;
a narrow way with thorns and briers,
and full of mires was here b e f o r e ;
She sighed oft with sobs and tears.
T h e poor wife's heart was wond 4 rous
sore;
Tired and torn she went on still,
Sometimes she sat anil sometimes fell,
aye till she came to a high hill,
and then <?ne looked back to hell.
When that she hatl climbM up the hill,
Before her was a goodly plain ;
Where she did rest and weep her fill,
Then rose and to her feet again.
H e r heart was glad the way was good
Up to the hill she hied with haste,
T h e f l o u e r s were fair where there she
stood,
The field were pleasant to her taste.
Then she espied Jerusalem,
O n Zion's mount where that it stood:
Shining with gx>ld light as the sun,
H e r silly soul was then right glad ;
T h e ports of pearls shining bright,
Were very glorious to behold,
With precious stones g a \ e such a light
�7
T h e walls were of transparent gold;
high were tWe walls thegates were shut
and long she thought for to be in $
But then for fear of biding out,
She knocked hard and made some dinT o knock and cry she did not spare
Till father Adam did her h e a r ;
Who is't that raps so rudely there,
Heaven cannot well be vvcn by weir;
T h e wife of Beith since that you spier,
Hath stood these two hours at the gate*
Go back quoth he, thou must forbear,
Here may rio sinners entrance get.
Adam, quoth she, 1 shall be in,
In spite of all such churls as thee j
T h o u ' r t the original of all sin.
For which thou art not flvting free.
But for thy soul offences fled.
Adam went back and let her be,
Looking as if his nose had bled.
Then mother Eve did at him speer,
Who was it there that made such din?
He said, a woman would be here,
For me I durst not let her in.
I'll go, said she, and ask her will,
Her company I would have fain ;
But aye she cried anil knocked still,
And in no ways she would refrain.
Daughter, said Eve, you will do well,
T o come a^ain another t i u i e ;
Heaven is not won by sword or steel,
�8
Nor none that's guilty of a crime.
Mother said she, the fault is thine,
That knocking here so long I stand;
Thy guilt is more than that of mine,
If thou wilt rightly understand,
Thou wast the cause of all our sin,
Wherein we were bom and conceived.
Our misery thou did'st begin,
By thee thy husband was deceived.
Eve went back where Noah was,
and told him all how she was blam'd
Of her great sin and first trespass,
Whereof she was so much asham'd.
Then Noah said i will go down,
and will forbid her that she knock ;
Go back, he said, ye drunken lawn,
Your none of the celestial flock.
Noah she said, now hold thy peace,
Where I drank ale thou didst drink wine
Discover'd was to thy disgrace,
When thou wast full like to a swine,
If I was drunk 1 learned at the
For thou'rt the father and the first,
T h a t others taught and likewise me,
T o drink when as vve had 110 thirst.
Then Noah turned back with speed
and told the patriarch Abra'am then,
How that the carlin made him dread,
And how she all his deeds did ken.
Abra'am then said now get you gone
Let us no more hear of your din ;
�9
No lying wife as I suppose,
May enter in these gates within.
Abra'am, she said will you but spare
I hope you are not 'flyting fre^ ;
You of yourself had such a care,
Deny'd your wife and made a lie;
Go then I pray you let me be
For 1 repent of all my sin;
Do thou but ope the gates to me,
and let me quietly come in.
Abra'am went back to Jacob then,
and told his grandson how to speed,
How that of her nothing he wan,
an 1 that he thought the cariin mad,
Then down came J a t o b thro* 1 he close
and said go backward clown to h e l l ;
Jacob quoth she I know your voice,
That gate pertaineth to thyself,
Of thy old trumpheiies I can tell,
With two sisters thou led*st thy life,
and the third part of these tribes twelve
Thou got with maids besides thy wife ;
and stole thy father's bennison,
Only by fi aud t ly father frae ;
Gave thou not him for venison,
A kid instead of breaken rae ?
Jacob himself was tickled so
H e went to Lot where he was lying,
and to the gate prayed him to go,
T o staunch the carlin of her crying
Lot says fair dame make less ado,
�10
and come again another day.
Old harlot carle and drunkard too,
T h o u with thine own two daughters lay
Of thine untimely se d I say,
Proceeded nevei good hut ill.
Poor Lot for shame then stole away,
And left the wife to knock her fill,
M e e k Moses then went down at last,
T o pacify the carlin then ;
Now dame said he, knock not so fast,
Your knocking will not let you ben.
Good sir, she said, 1 am aghast,
Whene'er i look you in the f a c e ;
If that your law till now had last,
T h e n surely I had ne'er got g r a c e :
But Moses, sir, now by your leave,
although in heaven you be possesst,
For all you saw did not believe.
But you in Horeb once transgressed,
Wherefore by all it is confest.
You hut got up the land to see,
and in the mount were put to rest,
Yea buried there where you did die.
Moses meekly turned back,
and told his brother Aaron there,
H o w the old carlin did so crack,
and in no ways did him forbear.
Tl en Aaron sail), I will not swear.
But Ml conjure her as I can ;
and I will make her now forbear,
So that she shall not rap again.
�11
Then Aaron said, you whorish wife,
Get you g*one anil rap no more ;
(With idols you have led your life,)
Or then you will repent it sore,
(rood Aaron priest 1 know you well,
This golden calf you may remember.
Who made the people plagues to see*
T h e is of you recorded ever ;
your priesthood now is nothing worth,
Christ is my only priest, and he.
My lord, who shall not keep rive forth,
So I'll get in in spite of t hee.
U p started Sampson at the length,
Unto the gate apace came he,
T o drive away the wife with strength,
But all in vain it would not l>e.
Sampson, quoth she, t h e world may
Thou was a j u d p e that proved unjust ;
Those gracious girts which God gave
thee,
Thou I >st by thy licentious lust,
From Delila thy wicked wife,
Thy secrets chief couldst not refrain,
She daily sought to take thy life,
Thou lost thy locks and then was slain.
Though thou wast strong it was in vain
Haunted with harlots heie and there,
Then Sampson turned back again,
And with the wife would mell nae tnair,
T h e n said king David knock no more,
�12
We ara troubled with thy cry,
David quoth she, how cam'st thou
here ?
Thou migju^st bide out as well as I,
Thy dee,is no ways thou canst deny,
Is not thy sin far worse than mine ?
Who with Uriah's wife did lie,
And caus'cj him to be murder'd synt?,
Then Jeditii said who's there that
knocks, ?
, ?
And to our n e i g h b o u r t h e s e notes
Madam said she k t he your macks,
I came not here for qntting throats:
I am a sinner full of blots,
Yet through Chiist's blood I shall be
clean.
If you and I be judged by votes,
T h e thing you did was worse than mine
Then said the sapient Solomon,
Thou art a sinner all men say,
Therefore our Saviour, I suppose.
Thee heavenly entrance will deny,
Mind quoth she thy latter days,
What idol gods thou did upset,
And wast so lewd in Venus' plays,
Thou didst thy maker quite forget.
Then Jonas said fair dame content
you,
If you intend to come to grace.
You must dree penance and repent you
Ere you conae within tins place.
�13
Jonas quoth she how stands the case ?
How came you here to be with Christ?
How dare you look me in the face ?
Considering how you broke your tryst,
To go God's ei rand thou withstood him
And heldfhis council in disdain ;
The raven messenger thou play'd him,
And brought noitBtssage back again
With meray'thou wast Bot; darken t*.
When that the Lord i t e did them spare
Although the city did repent,
It grieved tbieAhy he!ai?t was sair :
Let me alone and speakt no more,
Go back again in:© the whale,
For now my heart is^ako gorej
]>ut yet I hope 1 shall prevail.
Good Jonas said crack on your fill,
For here I may no longer tarry,
Y£t knock as long as e'er you will,
And go into a firry farry.
Jonas she says ye do miscarry,
As I have done in former time,
You're no Saint Peter nor Saint Mary,
T h y blot's as black as ever mine,
So Jonas then he was asham'd,
Because he was not fly ting free,
Oi all his faults she had him blam'd
He left the wife and let her be.
Saint Thomas then / council thee,
Go speak unto yon wicked wife,
She shames u s all, aad as for me,
to*
�14
Her like I never heard all my life.
Thomas then said, you make such
din,
When you are out, and meikle din
If you were here, P11 lay my life.
No peace the saints would get within}
I t is your trade for to be fly ting,
Still in a fever as one raves.
N o marvel though you wives be biting,
Your tongues are ma le of a*pen leaves
Thomas quoth she, let be your taunts,
You play the pick-thank I perceive,
Though ye be brother to the saints,
An unbelieving heart you have ;
Thou brought the Lord unto the grave.
But wouht no more with him remain,
And wast the last of all the lave,
T h a t did believe he rose again,
There mi^ht no doctrine do thee good,
Nor miracles make thee confide,
Till thou beheld Christ's wounds and
blood,
And put'st thy hands unto his side ;
Didst thou not daily with him bide,
And see the wonders which he wrought
But blest are they who do confide,
And do believe yet saw him n o t ;
Thoma.«, she says, will you speei,
If that my sister Magdalene,
Will come to me if she be here ;
For comfort sure you give me nane.
�15
H e was so blythe he turned back f
and thanked God that he was gane,
He had no will to hear her crack t
But told it Mary Magdalene.
When she did hear her sister's mocks,
She went unto the gate with speed :
and asked her who is't that knocks?
*Tis I, the wife of Btith indeed,
She said g ood mistress you must stand
Till ye be tried by tiibuhtioiV.
Sister, quoth she, g w e me your hand,
are we not both of one vocation?
It is not through your occupation,
That you are placet! so divine,
My faith is fixed on Christ's passion.
My soul shail be as safe as thine.
Then Mary went away in haste,
T h e carlin made her so aslram'd,
She had no will of such a guest,
T o lose her pains and be so blamed.
Now good St. Paul, said Magdalenet
-Because you are a learned man,
Go and convince this woman then,
For I have done all that I can :
Sure if she were in hell I doubt,
They would not keep her longer there
Cut to the gate would turn hei out ;
and send her back to be elsewhere.
Then went the good apostle Paul,
T o put the wife in better tune.
Wash off the filth that fylea thy soul,
�,
16
Then shall heav'n's gates be open soon.
Remember Paul what thou hast idone,
For the epistles thou didst compile,
Though now thou sittest up above,
Thou persecuted Christ awhile.
Woman he said, thou art not r%ht f
That which I did, I did not know;
But thou did sin with all thy might ,
Although th^ preachers did thee show,
Saint Paul, rhe said, it is not So,
I did not know as well asye,
But I will to my Saviour go;
Who will his favour show to mfe ;
You think you are of flvting free,
Because you were wrapt up above.
But yet it was Christ's grace to thee,
and matchlessness of his dear love,
Then, Paul she says let Peter come,
If he be lying let him rise,
To him I will confess my sin.
and let him quickly bring the keys.
Too long I stand, he'll let me in,
Fcr why I cannot longer tarry,
Then shall ye ail be quit of din,
For I must speak with good saint Mary.
The good apostle discontent,
Right suddenly he turned back,
For he did very much repent,
T o hear the carhn proudly crack,
Paul says good brother now arise,
and make an end of all this din,
�17
And if be so you have the keys,
Open and l ?l the p ^ i g ^ g iprdm oT
T h e apostle Paul arose at last,
and to the gate with speed he he hies*:
Carlin quoth he knock not so fast,
You cumber Mary with your cries.
Peter she said let Christ arise,
and grant me mercy in my need ;
For why, 1 ne'er denied him thrice,
as though thyself hast don?e indeed..
Thou calling bold what's that to thee ?
1 got remission for my sin ;
It cost many sad tears to me,
Before I entered here within.
/ 1 will not be thy m uckle din,
W ill cause heaven ^ates opened be,
Thou must be purified of sin ;
and of all sins must be made free.
Saint Peter then its nought to you
That you were rid of your fears,
It was Christ's gracious look I trow
That made ye wipe those bitter tears,
T h e door of mercy is not closed,
I may get grace as well as ye,
It is not so as ye supposed
/ will be in, in jspiite } Jsh&f&o odW
But wicked wife it is too late,
Thou shouldest have mourn'd upon
earth,
Repentance now is out of date :
/ 1 should have been before thy death ;
�18
Thau mightest then have turned wrath
T o mercy then and mercy £feat,
But now the Lord is very loth,
and all thy crys not worth a jot.
Ah ! Peter then what shall I do?
H e will not hear me as i hear,
Shall I despair of mercy too!
No, no, 1,11 trust in mercy d e a r :
and if I perish here I'll stay,
and never go from heaven bright;
I'll ever hope and always pray,
Tntil 1 get my Saviour's sight.
I think indeed you now are right,
if you had faith you would win in ;
Importune then with all your mi^ht,
Faith is the feet wherewith you come.
It is che hands will hoi i him fast
But weak faith never may presume ;
'Twill let you sink and be aghast.
Stongly believe, < r your undone.
But good Saint Peter, let me be,
Had you &m:h faith did it abound ?
When you did walk upon the sea,
Were ye not lik iiy to he drown'd ?
Had not our Saviour helped thee,
Who came and took thee by the hand ;
So c*n my Lord do ui to me,
and bring- me to the promised land,
Is my faith weak ? Yea he is still
T h e same and ever shall remain ;
His mercies last and his good will,
�w
T o bring me to his flock again;
He will me help and me relieve,
and will increase my faith also,
If weakly J can but believe,
For from this place Til never go.
But Peter said how can that be*
How dar'st thou look him in the face ?
Such horrid sinners like to thee,
Can have no courage to have grace ;
Here none comes in but they that's
stout,
and suffer'd have for the good cause?
Like unto thee are keeped cut.
For thou hast kroken all Moses* laws.
Peter she said, 1 do appeal,
From Moses and from thee also,
With him and you Ml not prevail,
But to my Saviour 1 will go;
Indeed of old you were right stout,
When ysu did cut off Malchtis' ear ;
But after that you went about.
And a poor maid then did you fear.
Wherefore Saint Peter do forbear,
A comforter indee 1 your n o t ;
Let me alone, 1 do not fear,
Take home the wissd of your g r o a t ;
Was it your o\rn or Paul's good sword
When that your courage was so keen,
You were ri^ht stout upon my word,
Then you would fain at fishing been j
For ere the crowing of the cock,
�20
You 4id deny your master thrice.
For all your stoutness turned: a block,
Now flyte no more if ye be wise.
Yet at the last the Lord arose,
Environ§d with angels bright.
And to the wife in haste he goes,
l i e f i ^ d her to pass out of sight,
() Lord quoth she, cause me do right
But not according to my sin,
tlave yoi) not promised day and night,
When sinners knocks t j let them in ?
v He said thou wrests the scriptures
wrong.
The night is come thou spent the day
In whoredom thou hast lived lon£,
And do repent thou didst d e l a y ;
Still my commandments thou abus'd
And vice committed busily,
Since now,my mercy thou refused,
Go down to hell eternally,
O Lord, my sou! doth testify,
That I have spent my life in vain ;
Ah ! mak^ a wandering sheep of me,
And bring me to thy flock again.
I'nink'st thou tbore is no count to
crave,
Of all th;e#e gifts in thee was planted,
I gave thee beauty 'hove*the lave,
A pregnant wit thou ntver ro anted.
Master, quoth she it must be granted,
My sins are great give me contrition ;
�M
The forlorn son when he repented.
Obtain'd his father's full remission.
I spar'd my judgment many times,
And sp'ritual pastors did thee send ;
Hut thou renew'd'st thy former crimes,
Aye more and more me to offend.
My Lord, quoth she, I do amend,
Lamenting for my former vice,
The poor thief at the latter end,
For one word went to paradise.
T h e t hief heard never of my teachings,
My heavenly precepts and my laws,
But thou wast daily at my preachings,
Both heard and saw and yet misknowl,
Master quoth she the scriptures shows,
T h ie J e w i sh w o m a n w h 0 p I ay' d t h e 1 o w ii
Conform unto the Hebrew laws,
Was brought to thee to he put down ;
Y ut nevertheless thou let 4 st her go,
And made the P h a r k e e ^ afraid.
Indeed, says Christ, it was right so,
And that my bidding was obey'd,
Woman, he sail), I may not cast,
The chi 1 dren's bread to dog's like thee,
Although my mercics yet do last,
There's mercy here but none for thee,
But, loving Lord, may I presume,
Poor worm, that I may speak again,
The dogs for hunger were undone,
Arid for the crumbs they were right
fain ;
�22
Grant me one crumb that then doth fall
From thy blest children's table Lord,
That I may be lefresh'd withal,
It will me help enough afford.
The gates of mercy now are clos'd,
And thou canst hardly enter in ;
It is not so as thou supposed.
For thou art deadly sick in sin.
*Tis true indeed my lord most meek,
My sore and sickness 1 do f e e l ;
Yet thou the lamb dost truly seek,
Who lay long* at Bethseda's pool,
Of that thee never sought,
Like to the poor Samaritan;
Whom thou into thy fold has brought,
Even as thou didst the widow of Nain :
Most giacious God, didst thou not bid
All that were weary eorre to thee ?
Behold I come! even oVrload
With sin, have mercy upon me.
The issues of tiw soul are great,
Thou art both leprous and unclean,
To be with me thou art not fit,
Go from me then, let me alone.
Let me thy garments once but touch,
My bloody issue will be whole,
It will not cost thee very much,
To Fave a poor distressed soul.
Speak thou the word I shall be vhole,
One look of thee shall do me good,
Save now good lord my silly soul,
�23
Bought with thine own most precious
blood.
L e t me alone, none of my blood,
Was ever shed for such as thee,
I t was my mercy patience good.
Which from damnation sec them free.
I t is confest thou hast been just,
Altho 4 thou had condemned m e ;
But O ! thy mercies still do last,
T o save the soul that tiust in thee :
Let me not then condemned be.
Most humbly Lord, I thee request,
O f sinners all none, like me,
So much the more thy praise shall last,
Thy praising me is profite,
My saints shall praise me e v e r m o r e :
In sinners I have no delight,
Such sacrifice 1 do abhor.
T h e n she unto the Lord did say,
At footstool of thy grace Ml lie ;
Sweet Lord my God sav me not nay,
For if I perish here I'll die.
Poor silly wretch then speak no mor*
Thy faith poor soul hath saved thee ;
Enter thou into my glory,
And rest through all eternity.
How soon our Saviour these words
said,
A lon«r white robe to her was given
And then the angels did her lead
Forthwith within the gates of heaven
�24
A laurel crown set on her Head.
Spangled with rubies and with gold ;
A bright white palm she always had,
Glorious itWas for to behold ;
Her face did shine like to the sun,
like threads of gold her hair hung dpwn
Her eyes like lamps unto the moon :
Of precious stones ri Jh Was her croVHi,
Angels and saints did welcome her,
:The heavenly choir did sing rejoice ;
King David w ith his harp was t h e r e ;
The silver bells gave a great noise.
Such music and such melody,
Was neither ever heard or seen,
When this poor saint was plac'd t o high
:And of her sins made freely clean ;
But then when thus she Was p<issest,
And looked back on all 11er fears,
And that she was come to her rest,
KreeM from her sins, and all her tears,
She from her head did take the crown,
Giving all praise to Christ on high,
Amd a t I vis feet-she laid it down,
For that the Lamb hath made her free,
Now doth she sing triumphantly,
And shall rejoice for eventiore
O'er death and hell victoriously,
With lasting spirits laid in store.
*
.
FINIS. .
�
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1ef8316199229655d5e0eb7b7a723547
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Title
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Illustration on title-page of the Resurrection showing Jesus Christ rising from the tomb in a burst of light with 4 soldiers displayed in pairs of two on the ground.
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Woodcut 075:Title-page illustration in single ruled border of the Resurrection showing Jesus Christ rising from the tomb in a burst of light with 4 soldiers displayed in pairs of two on the ground.
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Title
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The Wife of Beith; With a description of her Journey to Heaven.
Identifier
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<a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9953133953505154">s0141b34</a>
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
[1840-1850?] per National Library of Scotland
Extent
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24 pages
Is Part Of
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a bound collection of 54 chapbooks
Is Referenced By
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<a title="National Library of Scotland" href="http://www.nls.uk/">National Library of Scotland</a>
<a title="University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks" href="http://special.lib.gla.ac.uk/chapbooks/search/">University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks</a>
Contributor
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Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada
Rights
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In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413
Abstract
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"The Wife of Bath's Tale (Middle English: the Tale of the Wyf of Bathe) is among the best-known of Geoffrey Chaucer's Canterbury Tales. " <a title="Wikipedia" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Wife_of_Bath%27s_Tale">Wikipedia</a>
Coverage
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Bath, England
Format
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JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner.
Publisher
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Edinburgh: Printed for the Bookseller
Source
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Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario
Creator
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Chaucer, Geoffrey, -1400
Type
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poetry
Subject
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Chapbooks - Scotland - Edinburgh
Description
An account of the resource
Woodcut #75: Illustration on title-page of the Resurrection showing Jesus Christ rising from the tomb in a burst of light with 4 soldiers displayed in pairs of two on the ground.
# of Woodcuts: 1
Bib Context: title-page
Chapbook Date: 1841-1850
Chapbook Genre: religion & morals
Chapbook Publisher - Edinburgh: Printed for the Booksellers
Nature: cloud(s)
Nature: tree(s)
Occupation: soldier
Outdoor Scene
Religious Figures: Jesus Christ
-
https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/2d186dd14cab594620da1d15923f89c3.pdf
97ac42c484c42b33739bb43332eb33bf
PDF Text
Text
THE
L I F E A I D
D E A T H
OF
FAIR ROSAMOND,
'CONCUBINE TO
K I N G H E N R Y IE.
GLASGOW:
PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS.
11
�FAIR ROSAMOND.
When as King Henry rul'd this land,
The second of that name;
Besides the queen, he loved dear
A fair and courtly dame.
Most peerless was her beauty found,
Her favour and her face;
A sweeter creature in the world,
Could never prince embrace.
Her crisped locks, like threads of gold
Appear'd to each man's sight;
Her comely eyes, like orient pear
Did cast a heavenly light.
The blood within her crystal cheeks,
Did such a colour drive,
As though the lily and the rose
For mastership did strive
Fair Rosamond, fair Rosamond,
Her name was called so,
To whom dame Eleanor our queen,
Was known a deadly foe.
The king therefore, for her defence
Against the furious queen,
At Woodstock builded such a bower,
The like was never seen.
�Most curiously the tower was built,
Of stone and timber strong,
One hundred and fifty doors
Did to this tower belong.
And they so cunningly contrived,
With turnings round about,
That none without a clue of thread
Could enter in or out.
Now, for his love and lady's sake,
Who was both fair and bright,
The keeping of the tower he gave
Unto a valiant knight.
But fortune that doth often frown,
Where it before did smile,
The king's delight, the lady's joy,
Full soon she did beguile.
For why, the king's ungracious son
Whom he did high advance,
Against his father raised wars,
W'ithin the realms of France.
But yet before our gracious king
The English land forsook,
Of Rosamond, his lady fair,
His farewell thus he took.
My Rosamond, my lovely Rose,
Who pleaseth best mine eye,
The fairest flower in all the world
To feed my phantasy.
/t
�4
The flower of my affected heart,
Whose sweetness doth excel,
My Royal Rose, an hundred times
I bid you now farewell.
For I must leave rny fairest Rose,
My sweetest Rose apace,
And cross the ocean into France,
Proud rebels to debase.
But still my Rose, be sure thou shalt
My coming shortly see,
And in my heart, when hence I am,
I'll bear my Rose with me.
When Rosamond, the lady bright,
Did hear the king say so,
The sorrows of it grieved her so,
Her outward looks did show.
And from h^r clear and crystal eyes,
The tears gush'd out apace,
And like the silver pearl dew
Ran down her comely face.
And falling down into a swoon,
Before King Henry's face,
Full oft within his princely arms
Her body did embrace.
And twenty times with wat'ry eyes,,
He kiss'd her tender cheek,
Until he had revived again
Her spirit mild and meek.
�5
Why grieves my Rose ? my sweetest Rose,
The king did often say ;
Because, said she, to bloody wars
My lord must pass away.
But since your grace in foreign parts,
Amongst your foes unkind.
Must go to hazard life and limb,
Why must I stay behind ?
Nay, rather let me like a page
Thy sword and target bear,
That on my breast the blow may light
That would offend my dear.
O, let me in your royal tent
Prepare your bed at night,
And with sweet baths refresh you there,
As you return from fight.
So I your presence will enjoy,
No toil I will refuse;
But wanting you my life is death,
Which doth true love abuse.
Content thyself, my dearest love
Thy rest at home shall he,
In England's sweet and pleasing court,
For travels fit not thee.
Fair ladies brook not bloody wars.
Sweet peace their pleasure breed,
The nourisher of heart's content,
Whose fancy first doth feed.
�6
My Rose sliall rest in Woodstock bower
With music's sweet delight,
While I among the piercing pikes
Against the foes do fight.
My Rose in robes of pearl and gold,
With diamonds rich and bright,
Shall dance the galliards of my love,
While I my foes do smite.
And you, Sir Thomas, whom I trust,
To be my love's defence
Be careful of my gallant Rose,
When I am parted hence.
And here withal he fetch'd a sigh,
As though his heart would break;
And Rosamond, for very grief,
Not one plain word could speak.
And at their parting, well they might
In heart be grieved sore,
After that day fair Rosamond
The king did ne'er see more
For when his grace had passed the seas,
And into France was gone,
Queen Eleanor with envious heart,
To Woodstock came anon.
And forth she calls the trusty knight
Who kept this curious bower,
And with a clue of twisted thread,
Come from this famous flower.
�7
But when they had wounded him,
The queen his thread did get,
She went where Lady Rosamond
Like a young queen was set.
But when the queen with stedfast eyes,
Beheld her lovely face,
She was amazed in her mind,
With such exceeding grace.
Cast off, said she, these fine wrought robes,
That rich and costly be,
And drink you up this deadly draught
Which I have brought to thee.
But presently upon her knees,
Fair Rosamond did fall,
And pardon of the queen she craved,
For her offences all.
Take pity on my youthful years,
Fair Rosamond did say;
And let me not with poison strong
Be forced for to die.
1 will renounce my sinful life,
And in some cloister hide:
Or else be banished if you please,
To range the world so wide.
For sure the fault which I have done
I was forced thereunto,
Preserve my life and punish me,
As vou think fit to do.
�8
And with these words, her lily hands,
She wrung full often there,
And down her comely face
Proceeded many a tear.
But nothing could this furious queen
Herewith appeased be,
Except the cup of deadly poison,
Which she held on her knee.
She gave this comely dame to drink,
Who took it from her hand,
And from her bended knees arose.
And on her feet did stand:
When, casting up her eyes to heaven,
She did for mercy call,
And drinking up the poison strong,
She lost lier life withal.
And when that death thro' every limb
Had done its greatest spite,
Her chief foes could but confess,
She was a glorious sight.
Her body then they did entomb,
When life was fled away,
At Woodstock near to Oxford town.
As may be seen this day.
FINIS.
�
https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/1537ad04492db4d13cf75f7fbaf69fba.jpg
36e9e28ba5cc159fb90baeba476edb04
Omeka Image File
The metadata element set that was included in the `files_images` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all image files.
Bit Depth
8
Channels
3
Height
3072
Width
1951
Document
A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text.
Dublin Core
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Title
A name given to the resource
The Life and Death of Fair Rosamond, Concubine to King Henry II.
Identifier
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<a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9923354543505154">s0355b27</a>
Extent
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8 pages
16 cm
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
[1840-1850] per University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks
Description
An account of the resource
Woodcut image of Henry II of England on the title-page.
14 printed at the bottom of the title-page.
Subject
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Chapbooks-Scotland-Glasgow
Henry II, King of England, 1133-1189
Contributor
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Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada
Is Referenced By
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<a title="University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks" href="http://special.lib.gla.ac.uk/chapbooks/search/">University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks </a>
Rights
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In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413
Format
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JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner.
Creator
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Clifford, Rosamond, d.1176?
Publisher
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Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers