The Book of Scottish Song/Ca' the Yowes 1

Ca’ the Yowes.

[The original song of "Ca' the yowes to the knowes" is attributed to Isabell or Tibbie Pagan, a singular character, who died in the neighbourhood of Muirkirk, Ayrshire, (where she had spent most of her days,) in 1821, aged eighty. An account of her will be found in the "Ayrshire Contemporaries of Burns," Edinburgh, 1840. Tibbie was deformed in person, of a saturnine temper, and dissolute habits, but noted for her sarcastic wit and vocal powers. She subsisted chiefly by retailing whiskey, without a license, to those who visited her humble dwelling, and often, especially during the shooting-season, her hut or hovel was filled with gentlemen of the aristocracy, glad to enjoy a laugh at her humour, or to hear her sing. Tibbie published "A Collection of Songs and Poems," printed at Glasgow about 1805, but we cannot say whether "Ca' the yowes to the knowes" is included in the volume, as a complete copy of the work is not now to be had. Burns does not seem to have known the author of the song. In his Notes to Johnson's Museum, he says, "This song is in the true Scottish taste, yet I do not know that either air or words were ever in print before. It has a border sound; and the line,

'I'se gang wi' you, my shepherd lad,'

is Annandale or Eskdale, and I believe, good Yarrow." The version here given is the original one, as revised by Burns for the Museum. The last verse is wholly an addition by the poet himself. The air is simple, and old-like, though of its antiquity nothing can be said with certainty.]

Ca' the yowes to the knowes,
Ca' them whare the heather grows,
Ca' them whare the burnie rows,
My bonnie dearie.

As I gaed down the water side,
There I met my shepherd lad,
He row'd me sweetly in his plaid,
And ca'd me his dearie.
Ca' the ewes, &c.

Will ye gang down the water side,
And see the waves sae sweetly glide
Beneath the hazels spreading wide,
The moon it shines fu' clearly.
Ca' the yowes, &c.

I was bred up at nae sic school,
My shepherd lad, to play the fool;
And a' the day to sit in dool,
And nae body to see me.
Ca' the yowes, &c.

Ye shall get gowns and ribbons meet,
Cauf leather shoon upon your feet,
And in my arms ye'se lie and sleep,
And ye shall be my dearie.
Ca' the yowes, &c.

If ye'll but stand to what ye've said,
I'se gang wi' you, my shepherd lad;
And ye may row me in your plaid,
And I shall be your dearie.
Ca' the yowes, &c.

While waters wimple to the sea,
While day blinks in the lift sae hie;
Till clay-cauld death shall blin' my e'e,
Ye aye shall be my dearie.
Ca' the yowes, &c.

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