The Robin's Testament.
[From Herd's Collection, 1776. "'Gude day to you, Robin,'" says Mr. Robert Cliambers, "is a song which I have heard sung by old women and nurses in my own young days. It may be localized, from the various allusions, as belonging to Clydesdale; and I should suppose it to have been written some time after 1622, probably not long, as the old bridge of Tay at Perth, built by Robert Bruce, gave way that year, and was not again built till 1772. The mending or re-erection of the bridge of Tay was a matter of agitation during the reign of Charles I.: and that sovereign, when Scotland in 1641, subscribed an hundred pounds for the purpose. May not the song have been written at that precise era?"]
Gude day now, bonnie Robin,
How lang ha'e ye been here?
I've been a bird about this bush
This mair than twenty year.
But now I am the sickest bird
That ever sat on brier;
And I wad mak' my testament,
Gudeman, if ye wad hear.
Gar tak' this bonnie neb o' mine,
That picks upon the corn
And gi'e't to the duke o' Hamilton,
To be a hunting-horn.
Gar tak' thae bonnie feathers o' mine,
The feathers o' my neb;
And gi'e to the lady Hamilton,
To fill a feather bed.
Gar tak' t'ais gude richt leg o' mine,
And mend the brig o' Tay;
It will be a post and pillar gude,
It will neither bow nor gae.
And tak' this other leg of mine,
And mend the brig o' Weir;
It will be a post and pillar gude,
It will neither bow nor steer.
Gar tak' thae bonnie feathers o' mine,
The feathers o' my tail;
And gi'e to the lads o' Hamilton
To be a barn-flail.
And tak' thae bonnie feathers o' mine,
The feathers o' my breast;
And gi'e them to the bonnie lad,
Win bring to me a priest.
Now in there cam' my lady wren,
Wi' mony a sigh and groan,
O what care I for a' the lads,
If my ain lad be gone!
When Robin turn'd him round about,
E'en like a little king;
Gae pack ye out at my chamber-door,
Ye little cutty-quean.
The Highland Baloc.
[This is said to be a translation by Burns of a Gaelic nursery song which a Highland lady sung and interpreted to him. It appears to belong to the period when boldness and dexterity in cattle-lifting were accounted virtues.]
Hee, baloo, my sweet wee Donald,
Picture o' the great Clanronald;
Thou'lt be a chief o' a' thy clan,
If thou art spared to be a man.
Leeze me on thy bonnie craigie
An' thou live thou'lt lift a naigie,
Travel the country through and through,
And bring hame a Carlisle cow.
Through the Lawlands, near the Border,
Weel, my babie, may thou furder;
Herry the loons o' the laigh countrie,
Syne to the Highlands hame to me.
My Wife shall ha'e her will.
[From "The North Countrie Garland," a small collection printed at Edinburgh in 1824, for private distribution.]
If my dear wife should chance to gang,
Wi' me, to Edinburgh toun,
Into a shop I will her tak',
