THE POOR AND HONEST SODGER. When wild war's deadly blast was blawn, And gentle peace returning, And mony a widow mourning; I left the lines and tented field, A leal, light heart was in my breast, At length I reach'd the bonnie glen, I pass'd the mill, and trysting thorn, Down by her mother's dwelling! That in my een was swelling. Wi' alter'd voice, quoth I, sweet lass, Sweet as yon hawthorn's blossom, O! happy, happy may he be, That's dearest to thy bosom ! My purse is light, I've far to gang, And fain wad be thy lodger; I've serv'd my king and country lang; Take pity on a sodger. Sae wistfully she gaz'd on me, And lovelier was than ever: Ye freely shall partake it; That gallant badge, the dear cockade, Ye're welcome for the sake o't. She gaz'd-she redden'd like a rose— She sank within my arms, and cried, True lovers be rewarded. The wars are o'er, and I'm come hame, And find thee still true-hearted; Though poor in gear, we're rich in love, And mair we'se ne'er be parted. Quo' she, my grandsire left me gowd, A mailen plenish'd fairly; And come, my faithful sodger lad, For gold the merchant ploughs the main, "The Poor and Honest Sodger" laid hold at once on the public feeling, and it was every where sung with an enthusiasm which only began to abate when Campbell's "Exile of Erin" and "Wounded Hussar" were published. Dumfries, which sent so many of its sons to the wars, rung with it from port to port; and the poet, wherever he went, heard it echoing from house and hall. I wish this exquisite and useful song, with the song of "Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled," "The Song of Death," and "Does haughty Gaul invasion threat,"all lyrics which infuse a love of country and a martial enthusiasm into men's breasts, had obtained some reward for the poet. His perishable conversation was remembered by the rich to his prejudice-his imperishable lyrics were rewarded only by the admiration and tears of his fellow-peasants. THE BRAES O' BALLOCHMYLE. The Catrine woods were yellow seen, But nature sicken'd on the e'e; Hersel' in beauty's bloom the while; Low in your wintry beds, ye flowers, But here, alas! for me nae mair Shall birdie charm, or floweret smile; Fareweel, fareweel, sweet Ballochmyle! Burns lamented the departure of the amiable family of the Whitefords from Ballochmyle, in these two beautiful verses. Catrine is the seat of Dugald Stewart, Esq. and Ballochmyle is the residence of Boyd Alexander, Esq. To the charms of an Alexander we owe the "Lass of Ballochmyle;" and I have heard it said, that to the coldness of the heroine of that exquisite song we are indebted for the present lyric. He perhaps sought to set off the beauty and courtesy of one lady against the charms and coldness of another. THE DAY RETURNS, MY BOSOM BURNS. The day returns, my bosom burns, And crosses o'er the sultry line; Than kingly robes, than crowns and globes, While day and night can bring delight, Comes in between to make us part, It breaks my bliss-it breaks my heart. Burns wrote this song in compliment to Robert Riddell of Glenriddell, and his lady. The poet was VOL. IV. I |