Verse 3d, Let him, let him turn and flie. 4th, Let him bravely follow me.

5th, But they shall, they shall be free.

If you connect each line with its own verse, I do not think you will find that either the sentiment or the expression loses any of its energy. The only line which I dislike in the whole of the song is, "Welcome to your gory bed." Would not another word be preferable to welcome? In your next I will expect to be informed whether you agree to what I have proposed. The little alterations I submit with the greatest deference.

The beauty of the verses you have made for Oran-gaoil will insure celebrity to the air.

No.

No. XLII.

MR. BURNS TO MR. THOMSON.

September, 1793.

I HAVE received your list, my dear Sir,

and here go my observations on it.*

Down the burn Davie. I have this moment tried an alteration, leaving out the last half of the third stanza, and the first half of the last stanza, thus:

As down the burn they took their
And thro' the flowery dale;

His cheek to hers he aft did lay,

And love was ay the tale.
I 2

way,

With

* Mr. Thomson's list of songs for his publication. In his remarks, the bard proceeds in order and goes through the whole; but on many of them he merely signifies his approbation. All his remarks of any importance are presented to the reader.

E.

With " Mary, when shall we return,
"Sic pleasure to renew ;"

Quoth Mary," love, I like the burn,

"And ay shall follow

you."*

Thro' the wood laddie-I am decidedly of opinion, that both in this, and There'll never be peace 'till Jamie comes hame, the second or high part of the tune being a repetition of the first part an octave higher, is only for instrumental music, and would be much better omitted in singing.

the

Cowden knowes. Remember in

Remember in your index that song in pure English to this tune, beginning

"When summer comes the swains on Tweed,"

is the production of Crawford. Robert was his Christian name.

Laddie lie near me, must lie

me for some time.

I do not know the air; and until I am complete mas

singing, (such as it is) I

ter of a tune, in my own never can compose for it. the poetic sentiment correspondent to my idea of the

My way is: I consider

musical

*This alteration Mr. Thomson has adopted, (or at least intended to adopt) instead of the last stanza of the original song, which is objectionable in point of delicacy.

E.

musical expression; then chuse my theme; begin one stanza; when that is composed, which is generally the most difficult part of the business, I walk out, sit down now and then, look out for objects in nature around me, that are in unison or harmony with the cogitations of my fancy, and workings of my bosom; humming every now and then the air, with the verses I have framed. When I feel my muse beginning to jade, I retire to the solitary fireside of my study, and there commit my effusions to paper; swinging at intervals on the hind legs of my elbowchair, by way of calling forth my own critical strictures, as my pen goes on. Seriously, this, at home, is almost invariably my way.

What cursed egotism!

Gill Morice, I am for leaving out. It is a plaguy length; the air itself is never sung; and its place can well be supplied by one or two songs for fine airs that are not in your list. For instance, Craigieburn-Wood, and Roy's wife. The first, beside its intrinsic merit, has novelty; and the last has high merit as well as great celebrity. I have the original words of a song for the last air, in the hand-writing of the lady who composed it; and they are superior to any edition of the song which the public has yet Highland

seen.

*This song, so much admired by our bard, will be found in a future part of the volume.

E.

Highland-laddie. The old set will please a mere Scotch ear best; and the new an Italianized one. There is a third, and what Oswald calls, the old Highland-laddie, which pleases me more than either of them. It is sometimes called Ginglan Johnnie; it being the air of an old humourous tawdry song of that name. You will find it in the Museum, I hae been at Crookieden, &c. I would advise you in this musical quandary, to offer up your prayers to the muses for inspiring direction; and in the mean time waiting for this direction, bestow a libation to Bacchus; and there is not a doubt but you will hit on a judicious choice. Probatum est.

Auld Sir Simon, I must beg you to leave out, and put in its place The Quaker's wife.

Blythe hae 1 been o'er the hill, is one of the finest songs ever I made in my life; and besides, is composed on a young lady, positively the most beautiful, lovely woman in the world. As I purpose giving you the names and designations of all my heroines, to appear in some future edition of your work, perhaps half a century hence, you must certainly include the boniest lass in a' the warld in your collection.

Dainty Davie, I have heard sung, nineteen thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine times, and always with the chorus to the low part of the tune; and nothing has surprised me so much, as your opinion