Oh, wha wad buy a silken goun,
Wi' a puir broken heart?
Or what's to me a siller croun,
Gin frae my love I part?
The mind whase every wish is pure,
Far dearer is to me;
And ere I'm forced to break my faith,
I'll lay me down and dee;
For I ha'e pledged my virgin troth,
Brave Donald's fate to share,
And he has gi'en to me his heart,
Wi' a' its virtues rare.
His gentle manners wan my heart,
He gratefu' took the gift;
Could I but think to see it back,
It wad be waur than theft.
For langest life can ne'er repay
The love he bears to me;
And ere I'm forced to break my troth,
I'll lay me doun and dee.
O Mary, ye’se be clad.
[Written in imitation of the above beautiful lyric, and published in Urbani's collection, adapted to a tune composed by Miss Grace Corbet, while a very young girl.]
O Mary, ye'se be clad in silk,
And diamonds in your hair,
Gin ye'll consent to be my bride,
Nor think on Arthur mair.
Oh, wha wad wear a silken goun,
Wi' tears blindin' their e'e?
Before I break my true love's chain,
I'll lay me down and dee.
For I have pledged my virgin troth,
Brave Arthur's fate to share;
And he has gi'en to me his heart,
Wi' a' its virtues rare.
The mind whase every wish is pure,
Far dearer is to me;
And, ere I'm forced to break my faith,
I'll lay me down and dee.
So trust me, when I swear to thee
By a' that is on high;
Though ye had a' this warld's gear,
My heart ye couldna buy;
For langest life can ne'er repay
The love he bears to me;
And ere I'm forced to break my faith,
I'll lay me down and dee.
Evan Banks.
[This beautiful song, from being found in Burns's handivriting, was published as his in Johnson's Museum, but was afterwards discovered to be the composition of Helen Maria Williams, the authoress of "Letters written from France," and the translator of Humboldt's Personal Narrative. Miss Williams was a native of the north of England, where she was born in 1762. She died at Paris in 1827. The locality celebrated in the song,
"Where Evan mingles with the Clyde,"
is one of very great beauty. It lies in the middle ward of Lanarkshire, near the town of Hamilton. Here, and for several miles above its confluence with the Clyde, the Evon or Avon flows between "lofty banks," overhung with "lavish woods." We cannot say whether the poetess had any connection in life with this scene, or merely admired it as a casual visitor. Sir Walter Scott says that the song was written "at the request of Dr. Wood," meaning, we suppose, Dr. Alexander Wood, whose memory is still cherished in Edinburgh for his benevolence and eccentricities.]
Slow spreads the gloom my soul desires,
The sun from India's shore retires:
To Evan banks with temp'rate ray,
Home of my youth, he leads the day.
Oh! banks to me for ever dear!
Oh! stream whose murmurs still I hear!
All, all my hopes of bliss reside
Where Evan mingles with the Clyde.
And she, in simple beauty drest,
Whose image lives within my breast!
Who, trembling, heard my parting sigh,
And long pursued me with her eye.
Does she, with heart unchanged as mine,
Oft in the vocal bowers recline?
Or, where yon grot o'erhangs the tide,
Muse while the Evan seeks the Clyde?
