Ae Fond Kiss - Romantic Scottish Songs 2003

Artful expressions of Love abound in the Scottish tradition. Though in no way having a monopoly on romance, one champion on the subject was the poet Robert Burns (1759-1796). In addition to his own creations he often adapted or improved pre-existing traditional lyrics for inclusion in his song collections. Burns wrote in his native Scots language, a cousin of English. A glossary of Scots words follows the lyrics. We present seven Burns works and five additional romances.

My Love Is Like a Red, Red Rose 3:33
Burns

Probably Robert Burns' best known romantic lyric, it was only popularized when it was set to this traditional melody by Robert Archibald Smith in1821..

Julia Lane - vocal, harp
Fred Gosbee - vocal, Irish flute

My love is like a red, red rose, that's newly sprung in June.
My love is like a melodie, that's sweetly play'd in tune.
As fair thou art, my bonnie lass, so much in love am I,
And I will love thee still, my dear, till a' the seas gang dry.
Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,till a' the seas gang dry
And I will love thee still, my dear, till a' the seas gang dry

Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear, and the rocks melt wi' the sun!
And I will love thee still, my dear, 'til the sands of life have run.
So fare the weel, my only love! fare the weel awhile!
And I will come again, my dear. tho' t'were ten thousand mile!
Tho' t'were ten thousand mile, my dear, tho' t'were ten thousand mile!
And I will come again, my dear, tho' t'were ten thousand mile!

bonnie- lovely
a'- all
gang- go
wi'- wit
weel- well

Fordell Ball 5:23
new words by Jim Dunn

Written by Scots accordian player Jim Dunn to the old melody "Kelvin Grove" this depicts the desire of a young miner to take his sweetheart to the ball at the "big hoose". The irony is that the local dance at Fordell was held in a tin- roofed shack.

Fred Gosbee - vocal, 12-string guitar
Julia Lane - Celtic harp

Will ye gang tae Fordell Ball, my bonnie lassie-o
Will ye gang tae Fordell Ball, my bonnie lassie-o
Gin ye'll gang tae Fordell Ball
I will dress ye up sae braw
Ye'll be the flooer amang them a', my bonnie lassie-o

There'll be lords and ladies there, my bonnie lassie-o
Wi' powdered wigs and scented hair, my bonnie lassie-o
There'll be lords and ladies there And at you they'll stop and stare
Ye'll be the fairest o' the fair, my bonnie lassie-o

When the dancin' is a' done, my bonnie lassie-o
We will greet the rising sun, my bonnie lassie-o
Wi' the curlew and the hare
We will tak the mornin' air
While the lark she sings sae clear, my bonnie lassie-o

We will bless yon leafy bow'r, my bonnie lassie-o
Where we spent the midnicht hour, my bonnie lassie-o
We will bless yon leafy bow'r
Where we spent the midnicht hour
Neath the hawthorn's scented flower, my bonnie lassie-o

Will ye gang tae Fordell Ball, etc.

gang - go
flooer - flower
amang - among
tak -take
midnicht -midnight

Bonnie Doon 2:40
Traditional

The news of the death in childbirth of the daughter of a friend prompted Burns to write words to this lovely melody.

Julia Lane - Celtic harp

Aye Waulkin' O 3:33
Burns

Sleepless nights are the lot of the passionate and Burns was certainly no stranger to them.

Julia Lane - vocals and Celtic harp

Simmer's a pleasant time
Flooers o' many colours
The water rins ower the heugh,
And I long for my true lover

Aye waukin', O
Waukin' late an' early
Sleep I can get nane
For thinkin' on my dearie.

Aye waukin', O
Waukin' late an' early
Sleep I can get nane
For thinkin' on my dearie.

Ca' the Yowes 4:09
Traditional adapted by Burns

Fred Gosbee - vocals, 12-string guitar, low whistles
Julia Lane - Celtic harp

Ca' the yowes tae the knowes
Ca' them where the heather grows
Ca' them where the burnie rows
My bonnie dearie

Hark! The mavis evening sang
Sounding Cluden's woods amang
Then a-faulding let us gang
My bonnie dearie

We'll gae doon by Cluden side
Thro' the hazels spreading wide
O'er the waves that sweetly glide
Tae the moon sae clearly

Yonder's Cluden's silent towers
Where at moonshine midnicht hours
O'er the dewy-bending flowers
Fairies dance sae cheery

Ghaist nor bogle shalt thou fear
Thou'rt tae love and heaven sae dear
Nocht of ill may come ye near
My bonnie dearie

Fair and lovely as thou art
Thou hast stown my very heart
I can die - but canna pairt
My bonnie dearie

ca'- call
yowes- ewes
knowes - hills
burnie - streamlet
rows - runs
sang - song
amang - among
a-faulding - gathering sheep
gang - go
gae - go
tae - to
sae - so
ghaist - ghost
bogle - bugbear
nocht - nothing
stown - stolen
canna - cannot

Arms Around My Jo 3:39]
© 1995 Fred Gosbee

Jo is a Scots endearment J Fred Gosbee - violin
Julia Lane - celtic harp

Song Composed in August (Westlin' Winds) 6:53
Turloch O'Carolan (1670-1738)

Burns, a farmer, took great delight in the natural world. In this song, inspired by a walk with Margaret Thompson through a ripening field of grain, he enjoys the various birds and deplores the sports hunters. Fred Gosbee - vocal, 12-string guitar
Julia Lane - vocal

Now westlin' winds, and slaught'ring guns
Bring Autumn's pleasant weather;
The Moorcock springs, on whirring wings,
Amang the blooming heather;
Now waving grain, wide o'er the plain,
Delights the weary Farmer;
The moon shines bright, as I rove at night,
To muse upon my Charmer.

The Pairtrick lo'es the fruitfu' fells;
The Plover lo'es the mountains;
The Woodcock haunts the lanely dells;
The soaring Hern the fountains:
Thro' lofty groves, the Cushat roves,
The path o'man to shun it;
The hazel bush o'erhangs the Thrush,
The spreading thorn the Linnet.

Thus ev'ry kind their pleasure find,
The savage and the tender;
Some social join, and leagues combine;
Some solitary wander:
Avaunt, away! the cruel sway,
Tyrannic man's dominion;
The Sportsman's joy, the murd'ring cry,
The flutt'ring, gory pinion!

But Peggy dear, the ev'ning's clear,
Thick flies the skimming Swallow;
The sky is blue, the fields in view,
All fading-green and yellow:
Come let us stray our gladsome way,
And view the charms o' Nature:
The rustling corn, the fruited thorn
And ilka happy creature.

We'll gently walk, and sweetly talk,
While the silent moon shines clearly;
I'll clasp thy waist, and fondly prest,
I'll swear I lo'e thee dearly:
Not vernal show'rs to springtime flow'rs,
Not harvest to the Farmer,
So dear can be, as thou to me,
My fair, my lovely Charmer!

westlin' winds - winds from the west
amang - among
Pairtrick - partridge
lanely - lonely, Hern - heron
Cushat - wood dove
ilka - every
While - until
prest - encouraged
lo'e - love

My Bonnie Greenwood Laddie 4:13
© 1995 Julia Lane

Julia wrote this for her son, Caleb, a skilled woodsman and white water guide.

Julia Lane - vocal, Celtic harp
Fred Gosbee - low whistle

When the dawn is breaking on the mountain
And the dew is on the grass
You step lightly through the waking forest
Where the silent deer have passed
Oh my bonny greenwood laddie,
Oh my bonnie greenwood boy
You're as light and breezy as the morning
You're my heart's delight and joy

When at noon the blazing sun is shining
Making diamonds on the lake
Like the brook you're laughing in the sunlight
Like the otter splash and play
Oh my bonnie greenwood laddie,
Oh my bonnie greenwood boy
You're cool water in the heat of noonday
You're my heart's delight and joy

In the cool and magic of the evening
As the stars wink in the sky
In the fire's glow your face is shining
With a peaceful quiet light
Oh my bonnie greenwood laddie,
Oh my bonnie greenwood boy
You're the fire lighting up the darkness,
You're my heart's delight and joy

Neil Gow's Lament on the Death of His Second Wife 4:09 Neil Gow (1727-1807)

Neil Gow was a fiddler roughly contemporary with Burns who had the good fortune to be celebrated in aristocratic society.

Fred Gosbee - violin
Julia Lane - Celtic harp

Mary Morrison 3:26
Burns

The subject of this song remains under debate as the actual Mary Morison was only met once by Burns and was about 13 at the time. Scholars believe that, since he refers to the piece as "one of his juvenile works", it was written for Alison Begbie, a farmer's daughter whom he courted early in his career.

Fred Gosbee - vocal, 12-string guitar, violin
Julia Lane - Celtic harp

O Mary, at thy window be,
It is the time, the trysted hour!
Those smiles and glances let me see,
That make the miser's treasure poor:
How blythely would I bide the stour,
A weary slave frae sun to sun,
Could I the rich reward secure,
The lovely Mary Morison.

Yestreen, when to the trembling string
The dance gaed gaily thro' the ha',
To thee my fancy took its wing,
I sat, but neither heard nor saw:
Tho' this was fair, and that was braw,
And yon the toast of a' the town,
I sigh'd, and said "Among ye a',
Ye are nae Mary Morison."

Oh, Mary, canst thou wreck his peace,
Wha for thy sake wad gladly die?
Or canst thou break that hairt o' his,
Whase only faut is loving thee?
If love for love thou wilt na gie,
At least be pity to me shown;
A thought ungentle canna be
The thought o' Mary Morison.

bide the stour - struggle against adversity
yestereen - yesterday evening
gaed - went
ha' - hall
braw - splendid in dress
a' - all
nae - not
wha - who
whase - whose
faut - fault
gie - give
canna - cannot

Ettrick [3:28]
Lyrics by Lady John Scott (1810-1900) music © Archie Fisher

Julia Lane - vocal, Celtic harp
Fred Gosbee - cello
Doreen Conboy - lead cello

Scottish Borders poet and composer Lady John Scott (Alicia Spotiswoode experienced a great deal of personal tragedy. The death of her beloved husband in the winter of 1859 inspired this song.

When we first rade down Ettrick,
Our bridles were ringing, our hearts were dancing,
The waters were singing, the sun was glancing,
An' blithely our hearts rang out thegither,
As we brushed the dew frae the blooming heather,
When we first rade down Ettrick.

When we next rade down Ettrick,
The day was dying, the wild birds calling,
The wind was sighing, the leaves were falling,
An' silent an’ weary, but closer thegither,
We urged our steeds thro’ the faded heather,
When we next rade down Ettrick.

When I last rade down Ettrick,
The winds were shifting, the storm was waking,
The snow was drifting, my heart was breaking,
For we never again were to ride thegither,
In sun or storm on the mountain heather,
When I last rade down Ettrick.

Ae Fond Kiss Burns

In 1791 Burns penned this for "Clarinda" (Agnes/ Nancy Mc lehose ) one of his more long term lovers. She was on her way to join her husband in the West Indies.

Julia Lane - vocal, Celtic harp
Fred Gosbee - vocal, 12-string guitar

Ae fond kiss, and then we sever!
Ae fareweel, and then forever!
Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.

Wha shall say that Fortune grieves him,
While the star of hope she leaves him ?
Me, nae cheerful twinkle lights me,
Dark despair around benights me.

I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy:
Naething could resist my Nancy!
But to see her was to love her
Love but her, and love for ever.

Had we never lov'd sae kindly,
Had we never lov'd sae blindly,
Never met - or never pairted -
We had ne'er been broken-hearted.

Fare-thee-weel, thou first and fairest!
Fare-thee-weel, thou best and dearest!
Thine be ilka joy and treasure,
Peace, enjoyment, love and pleasure!

Ae fond kiss, and then we sever!
Ae farewell, alas, for ever!
Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee

ae - one
fareweel - farewell
wha - who
while - until
nae - no
naething - nothing
ilka - every