at least with a very slight variation of the fourth line, which I shall presently submit to you. There is in Lewie Gordon more of the grand than the plaintive, particularly when it is sung with a degree of spirit, which your words would oblige the singer to give it. I would have no scruple about substituting your ode in the room of Lewie Gordon, which has neither the interest, the grandeur, nor the poetry that characterize your verses. Now the variation I have to suggest upon the last line of each verse, the only line too short for the air, is as follows: Verse 1st, Or to glorious victorie. 2d, Chains-chains and slaverie. If you connect each line with its own verse, I do not think you will find that either the sentiment or the expression loses any of its energy. The only line which I dislike in the whole of the song is, "Welcome to your gory bed." Would not another word be preferable to welcome? In your next I will expect to be informed whether you agree to what I have proposed. The little alterations I submit with the greatest deference. The beauty of the verses you have made for Orangaoil will ensure celebrity to the air. No. XLII. MR BURNS to MR THOMSON. September, 1793. I HAVE received your list, here go my observations on it.* my dear Sir, and Down the burn Davie. I have this moment tried an alteration, leaving out the last half of the third. stanza, and the first half of the last stanza, thus: As down the burn they took their way, His cheek to hers he aft did lay, And love was ay the tale. With Mary, when shall we return, Sic pleasure to renew?" Quoth Mary, "Love, I like the burn, And ay shall follow you."+ Thro' the wood laddie-I am decidedly of opinion, that both in this; and There'll never be peace till Jamie comes hame, the second or high part of the * Mr Thomson's list of songs for his publication. In his remarks, the bard proceeds in order, and goes through the whole; but on many of them he merely signifies his approbation. All his remarks of any importance are presented to the reader. This alteration Mr Thomson has adopted (or at least intended to adopt), instead of the last stanza of the original song, which is objectionable in point of delicacy. F. tune being a repetition of the first part an octave higher is only for instrumental music, and would be much better omitted in singing. Cowden-knowes. Remember in your index that the song in pure English to this tune, beginning, "When summer comes, the swains on Tweed," is the production of Crawford. Robert was his Christian name. Laddie lie near me, must lie by me for some time. I do not know the air; and until I am complete master of a tune, in my own singing (such as it is), I can never compose for it. My way is: I consider the poetic sentiment correspondent to my idea of the musical expression; then choose my theme; begin one stanza; when that is composed, which is generally the most difficult part of the business, I walk out, sit down now and then, look out for objects in nature around me that are in unison and harmony with the cogitations of my fancy, and workings of my bosom; humming every now and then the air, with the verses I have framed. When I feel my muse beginning to jade, I retire to the solitary fire-side of my study, and there commit my effusions to paper; swinging at intervals on the hind legs of my elbow chair, by way of calling forth my own critical strictures, as my pen goes on. Seriously, this, at home, is almost invariably my way. What cursed egotism! Gill Morice, I am for leaving out. It is a plaguy length; the air itself is never sung; and its place can well be supplied by one or two songs for fine airs that are not in your list. For instance, Craigie burn Wood and Roy's Wife. The first, beside its intrinsic merit, has novelty; and the last has high merit, as well as great celebrity. I have the original words of a song for the last air, in the hand-writing of the lady who composed it; and they are superior to any edition of the song which the public has yet seen.* Highland-laddie. The old set will please a mere. Scotch ear best; and the new, an Italianized one. There is a third, and what Oswald calls the old Highland-laddie, which pleases more than either of them. It is sometimes called Ginglan Johnnie ; it being the air of an old humorous tawrdy song of that name. You will find it in the Museum, I hae been at Crookieden, &c. I would advise you in this. musical quandary, to offer up your prayers to the muses for inspiring direction; and in the mean time, waiting for this direction, bestow a libation to Bacchus; and there is not a doubt but you will hit on. a judicious choice. Probatum Est. Auld Sir Simon, I must beg you to leave out, and put in its place The Quaker's Wife. Blithe hae I been o'er the hill, is one of the finest songs ever I made in my life; and besides, is composed on a young lady, positively the most beautiful, lovely woman in the world. As I purpose giving you the names and designations of all my heroines, to appear in some future edition of your work, per This song, so much admired by our bard, will be found in a future part of the volume, E. haps half a century hence, you must certainly inIclude The bonniest lass in a' the warld in your lection. col Dainty Davie, I have heard sung, nineteen thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine times, and always with the chorus to the low part of the tune and nothing has surprised me so much as your opinion on this subject. If it will not suit as I proposed, we will lay two of the stanzas together, and then make the chorus follow. Fee him father-I inclose you Frazer's set of this tune when he plays it slow; in fact he makes it the language of despair. I shall here give you two stanzas, in that style, merely to try if it will be any improvement. Were it possible, in singing, to give it half the pathos which Frazer gives it in playing, it would make an admirably pathetic song. I do not give these verses for any merit they have. I composed them at the time in which Patie Allan's mither died, that was about the back o' midnight; and by the lee-side of a bowl of punch, which had overset every mortal in company, except the hautbois and the muse. THOU hast left me ever, Jamie, Thou hast left me ever, Thou hast left me ever, Jamie, Thou hast left me ever. Aften hast thou vow'd that death, Only should us sever, |