O Mary, at thy window be! It is the wish'd the trysted hour. Those smiles and glances let me see, That makes the miser's treasure poor. How blythely wad I bide the stoure, 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 thro the lighted ha', To thee my fancy took its wing, I sat, but neither heard or saw: Tho' this was fair, and that was braw, And yon the toast of a' the town, I sigh'd, and said amang them a' -- "Ye are na Mary Morison!" O, Mary, canst thou wreck his peace Wha for thy sake wad gladly die? Or canst thou break that heart of 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.
Six Songs by Robert Burns
by Arthur Somervell, Sir (1863 - 1937)
1. Mary Morison  [sung text not yet checked]
Authorship:
- by Robert Burns (1759 - 1796), "Mary Morison"
See other settings of this text.
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- CZE Czech (Čeština) (Josef Václav Sládek) , "Mary Morison"
- FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , "Mary Morison", copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- GER German (Deutsch) (Anonymous/Unidentified Artist) , "Mariechen, komm ans Fensterlein"
- GER German (Deutsch) (Gustav Legerlotz) , "Mary Morison"
- HUN Hungarian (Magyar) (József Lévay) , "Morison Mari"
Researcher for this page: Pierre Mathé [Guest Editor]
2. Of a' the airts  [sung text not yet checked]
Of a' the airts the wind can blaw, I dearly like the west, For there the bonnie Lassie lives, The Lassie I lo'e best: There's wild-woods grow, and rivers row, And mony a hill between; But day and night my fancy's flight Is ever wi' my Jean. I see her in the dewy flowers, I see her sweet and fair; I hear her in the tunefu' birds, I hear her charm the air: There's not a bonnie flower that springs By fountain, shaw, or green; There's not a bonnie bird that sings, But minds me o' my Jean.
Authorship:
- by Robert Burns (1759 - 1796), no title, written 1788
See other settings of this text.
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- CZE Czech (Čeština) (Josef Václav Sládek) , "Všech úhlů světa"
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
3. Behold the hour  [sung text not yet checked]
Behold the hour the boat arrive! Thou goest, thou darling of my heart: Ah! sever'd from thee, can I survive? But fate has will'd, and we must part! I'll often greet this surging swell; Yon distant isle will often hail; "E'en here, I took the last farewel; "There, latest mark'd her vanish'd sail". Along the solitary shore, While flitting sea-fowls round me cry, Across the rolling, dashing roar, I'Il westward turn my wistful eye: Happy, thou Indian grove, I'Il say, Where now my Nancy's path may be! While through thy sweets she loves to stray, O tell me, does she muse on me!
Authorship:
- by Robert Burns (1759 - 1796)
See other settings of this text.
oran gaoil = Song of loveResearcher for this page: Guy Laffaille [Guest Editor]
4. Go fetch to me a pint o' wine  [sung text not yet checked]
Go fetch to me a pint o' wine, And fill it in a silver tassie; That I may drink, before I go, A service to my bonie lassie: The boat rocks at the Pier o' Lieth, Fu' loud the wind blaws frae the Ferry, The ship rides by the Berwick-law, And I maun leave my bony Mary. The trumpets sound, the banners fly, The glittering spears are ranked steady, The shouts o' war are heard afar, The battle closes deep and bloody. It 's not the roar o' sea or shore, Wad make me langer wish to tarry; Nor shouts o' war that 's heard afar - It's leaving thee, my bony Mary!
Authorship:
- by Robert Burns (1759 - 1796), "The silver tassie"
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]5. A red, red rose  [sung text not yet checked]
O my [Luve's]1 like a red, red rose That's newly sprung in June: O my [Luve's]1 like the melodie That's sweetly play'd in tune. As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, [So]2 deep in luve am I: And I will luve 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; I will luve thee still, my dear, While the sands o' life shall run. And fare thee weel, my only Luve! And fare thee weel a while! And I will come again, my Luve, Tho' it were ten thousand mile.
Authorship:
- by Robert Burns (1759 - 1796)
See other settings of this text.
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- SWG Swiss German (Schwizerdütsch) (August Corrodi) , "Min schatz ist wienes Röseli", first published 1870
- CZE Czech (Čeština) (Josef Václav Sládek) , "Má milá jest jak růžička"
- FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , copyright © 2019, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- GRE Greek (Ελληνικά) [singable] (Christakis Poumbouris) , "Η π’ αγαπώ ’ναι ρόδο ροζ", copyright © 2015, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- HUN Hungarian (Magyar) (József Lévay) , "Szerelmem, mint piros rózsa..."
- IRI Irish (Gaelic) [singable] (Gabriel Rosenstock) , copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Note: due to a similarity in first lines, Berg's song O wär' mein Lieb' jen' Röslein roth is often erroneously indicated as a translation of this poem.
1 Beach and Scott: "Luve is"; Bacon: "love's"2 Scott: "Sae"
Research team for this page: Emily Ezust [Administrator] , Iain Sneddon [Guest Editor]
6. Out over the Forth  [sung text not yet checked]
Out over the Forth, I look to the north; But what is the north and its Highlands to me? The south nor the east gie ease to my breast, The far foreign land, or the wide rolling sea. But I look to the west when I gae to my rest, That happy my dreams and my slumbers may be; For far in the west lives he I love best, The man that is dear to my babie and me.
Authorship:
- by Robert Burns (1759 - 1796), "Out over the Forth"
See other settings of this text.
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]