say's tea-table, where the modern song first appeared, the ancient name of the tune, Allan says, is Allan Water, or My love Annie's very bonnie. This last has certainly been a line of the original song; so I took up the idea, and as you will see, have introduced the line in its place, which I presume it formerly occupied; though I likewise give you a chusing line, if it should not hit the cut of your fancy. By Allan-stream I chanc'd to rove, And thought on youthfu' pleasures mony; O happy be the woodbine bower, Nor ever sorrow stain the hour, The place and time I met my dearie! Her * A mountain west of Strath-Allan, 3,009 feet high. R. B. Or, 'O my love Annie's very bonnie.' R. B. Her head upon my throbbing breast, The sacred vow, we ne'er should sever. The haunt o' spring's the primrose brae, Like meeting her, our bosom's treasure? Bravo! say I: it is a good song. Should you think so too (not else), you can set the music to it, and let the other follow as English verses. No. XXXV. MR. BURNS to MR. THOMSON. August, 1793. Is Whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad, one of your airs? I admire it much; and yesterday I set the following verses to it. Urbani, whom I have met with here, begged them of me, as he admires the air much; but as I understand that he looks with rather an evil eye on your work, I did not choose to comply. However, if the song does not suit your taste, I may possibly send it him. The set of the air which I had in my eye is in Johnson's Museum. O WHISTLE, and I'll come to you, my lad,* O whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad: Tho' * In some of the MSS the four first lines run thus: O whistle, and I'll come to thee, my jo; E. Tho' father and mither and a' should gae mad, O whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad. But warily tent, when you come to court me, Owhistle, &c. At kirk, or at market, whene'er ye meet me, O whistle, &c. Ay vow and protest that ye care na for me, O whistle, &c. Another favourite air of mine is The muckin o' Geordie's Byre; when sung slow with expression, I have wished that it had had better poetry: that I have endeavoured to supply as follows: Adown Adown winding Nith I did wander, To mark the sweet flowers as they spring; Adown winding Nith I did wander, Of Phillis to muse and to sing. CHORUS. Awa wi' your belles and your beauties, The daisy amus'd my fond fancy, Awa, &c. The rose-bud's the blush o' my charmer, Her sweet balmy lip when 'tis prest: How fair and how pure is the lily, Yon knot of gay flowers in the arbour, Awa, &c. H 2 Her |