["Ye Jacobites by name," appeared for the first time in the Museum: it was sent in the handwriting of Burns.]

I.

Ye Jacobites by name, give and ear, give an ear; Ye Jacobites by name, give an ear; Ye Jacobites by name, Your fautes I will proclaim, Your doctrines I maun blame-- You shall hear.

II.

What is right, and what is wrang, by the law, by the law?

What is right and what is wrang, by the law?

What is right and what is wrang?

A short sword, and a lang, A weak arm, and a strang For to draw.

III.

What makes heroic strife, fam'd afar, fam'd afar?

What makes heroic strife, fam'd afar?

What makes heroic strife?

To whet th' a.s.sa.s.sin's knife, Or hunt a parent's life Wi' bluidie war.

IV.

Then let your schemes alone, in the state, in the state; Then let your schemes alone in the state; Then let your schemes alone, Adore the rising sun, And leave a man undone To his fate.

Cx.x.xI.

THE BANKS OF DOON.

[FIRST VERSION.]

[An Ayrshire legend says the heroine of this affecting song was Miss Kennedy, of Dalgarrock, a young creature, beautiful and accomplished, who fell a victim to her love for her kinsman, McDoual, of Logan.]

I.

Ye flowery banks o' bonnie Doon, How can ye bloom sae fair; How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae fu' o' care!

II.

Thou'll break my heart, thou bonnie bird, That sings upon the bough; Thou minds me o' the happy days When my fause love was true.

III.

Thou'll break my heart, thou bonnie bird, That sings beside thy mate; For sae I sat, and sae I sang, And wist na o' my fate.

IV.

Aft hae I rov'd by bonnie Doon, To see the woodbine twine, And ilka bird sang o' its love; And sae did I o' mine.

V.

Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose, Frae aff its th.o.r.n.y tree: And my fause luver staw the rose, But left the thorn wi' me.

Cx.x.xII.

THE BANKS O' DOON.

[SECOND VERSION.]

Tune--"_Caledonian Hunt's Delight._"

[Burns injured somewhat the simplicity of the song by adapting it to a new air, accidentally composed by an amateur who was directed, if he desired to create a Scottish air, to keep his fingers to the black keys of the harpsichord and preserve rhythm.]

I.

Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon, How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair; How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae weary, fu' o' care!

Thou'lt break my heart, thou warbling bird, That wantons thro' the flowering thorn: Thou minds me o' departed joys, Departed--never to return!

II.

Aft hae I rov'd by bonnie Doon, To see the rose and woodbine twine; And ilka bird sang o' its luve, And fondly sae did I o' mine.

Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose, Fu' sweet upon its th.o.r.n.y tree; And my fause luver stole my rose, But, ah! he left the thorn wi' me.

Cx.x.xIII.

WILLIE WASTLE.

Tune--"_The eight men of Moidart._"

[The person who is raised to the disagreeable elevation of heroine of this song, was, it is said, a farmer's wife of the old school of domestic care and uncleanness, who lived nigh the poet, at Ellisland.]

I.