The Canary/A Lassie all alone

by Robert Burns (1759-1796)

For other versions of this work, see A Lassie all alone.

A Lassie all alone.

As I stood by yon roofless tower,
 Where the wa'-flower scents the dewy air,
Where the howlet mourns in her ivy bower,
And tells the midnight moon her care.
 A lassie all alone was making her moan,
  Lamenting our lad sbeyond the sea;
 In the bluidy wars they fa', and our honour's gaen and a',
And broken-hearted we maun die.

The winds were laid, the air was still,
The stars they shot alang the sky;
The tod was howling on the hill,
And the distant echoing glens reply.
A lassie, &c.

The burn adown its hazally path,
Was rushing by the ruin'd wa',
Hasting to join the sweeping Nith,
Whase roarings seems to rise and fa'.
A lassie, &c:

The cauld blae north was streaming forth
Her lights, wi' hissing eerie din;
Athort the lift they start and shift,
Like fortune's favours, tint as win.
A lassie, '&c.

Now, looking over firth and fauld,
Her horn the pale-fac'd Cynthia rear'd,
When, lo! in form of minstrel auld,
A stern and stalwart ghaist appear’d.
A lassie, &c.

And frae his harp sic strains did flow,
Might rous'd the slumbering dead to hear,
But, oh! it was a tale of woe
As ever met a Briton's ear.
A lassie, &c.

He sang wi' joy his former day,
He weeping wail'd his latter times;
But what he laid it was nae play,
I winna ventur't in my rhymes.
A lassie, &c.

 

O that I had ne'er been married.

O that I had ne'er been married,
I wad never had nae care;
Now I've gotten wife and bairns,
And they cry crowdie evermair.
Ance crowdie, twice crowdie,
Three times crowdie in a day;
Gin ye crowdie ony mair
Ye'll crowdie a' my meal away.

Waefu' want and hunger fley me,
Glowrin by the hallan en';
⟨Sair⟩ I fight them at the door,
But aye I'm eerie they come ben.
Ance crowdie, &c.

 

O gude Ale comes.

O gude ale comes, and gude ale goes,
Gude ale gars me sell my hose,
⟨Sell⟩ my hose, and pawn my shoon,
⟨Gude⟩ ale keeps my heart aboon.