II.

Ae day as the carle gaed up the lang glen, (Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme), He met wi' the devil; says, "How do yow fen?"

And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime.

III.

"I've got a bad wife, sir; that's a' my complaint; (Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme), For, saving your presence, to her ye're a saint; And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime."

IV.

"It's neither your stot nor your staig I shall crave, (Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme), But gie me your wife, man, for her I must have, And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime."

V.

"O welcome, most kindly," the blythe carle said, (Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme), "But if ye can match her, ye're waur nor ye're ca'd, And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime."

VI.

The devil has got the auld wife on his back; (Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme), And, like a poor pedlar, he's carried his pack; And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime.

VII.

He's carried her hame to his ain hallan-door; (Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme).

Syne bade her gae in, for a b--h and a w--e, And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime.

VIII.

Then straight he makes fifty, the pick o' his band, (Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme), Turn out on her guard in the clap of a hand; And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime.

IX.

The carlin gaed thro' them like ony wud bear, (Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme), Whate'er she gat hands on cam near her nae mair; And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime.

X.

A reekit wee devil looks over the wa'; (Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme), "O, help, master, help, or she'll ruin us a', And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime."

XI.

The devil he swore by the edge o' his knife, (Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme), He pitied the man that was tied to a wife; And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime.

XII.

The devil he swore by the kirk and the bell, (Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme), He was not in wedlock, thank heav'n, but in h.e.l.l; And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime.

XIII.

Then Satan has travelled again wi' his pack; (Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme), And to her auld husband he's carried her back: And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime.

XIV.

"I hae been a devil the f.e.c.k o' my life; (Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme), But ne'er was in h.e.l.l, till I met wi' a wife; And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime."

Cx.x.xVII.

JOCKEY'S TA'EN THE PARTING KISS.

Tune--"_Jockey's ta'en the parting kiss._"

[Burns, when he sent this song to the Museum, said nothing of its origin: and he is silent about it in his memoranda.]

I.

Jockey's ta'en the parting kiss, O'er the mountains he is gane; And with him is a' my bliss, Nought but griefs with me remain.

Spare my luve, ye winds that blaw, Plashy sleets and beating rain!

Spare my luve, thou feathery snaw, Drifting o'er the frozen plain.

II.

When the shades of evening creep O'er the day's fair, gladsome e'e, Sound and safely may he sleep, Sweetly blithe his waukening be!

He will think on her he loves, Fondly he'll repeat her name; For where'er he distant roves, Jockey's heart is still at hame.

Cx.x.xVIII.

LADY ONLIE.

Tune--"_The Ruffian's Rant._"

[Communicated to the Museum in the handwriting of Burns: part, but not much, is believed to be old.]

I.

A' the lads o' Thornie-bank, When they gae to the sh.o.r.e o' Bucky, They'll step in an' tak' a pint Wi' Lady Onlie, honest Lucky!

Lady Onlie, honest Lucky!

Brews good ale at sh.o.r.e o' Bucky; I wish her sale for her gude ale, The best on a' the sh.o.r.e o' Bucky.

II.