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(83) Page 59 - Winter it is past
THE SONGS OF SCOTLAND.
59
' = 108
THE WINTER IT IS PAST.
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is past, and the sum - mer comes at last, And the
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small birds sing on ev'
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sad ;
For my
true love is
part
ed from
The rose upon the brier, by the waters running clear,
May have charms for the linnet or the bee ;
Their little loves are blest, and their little hearts at rest,
But my true love is parted from me.
My love is like the sun, that in the sky does run
For ever so constant and true ;
But his is like the moon, that wanders up and down,
And every month it is new.
All you that are in love, and cannot it remove,
I pity the pains you endure ;
For experience makes me know, that your hearts are full of woe,
A woe that no mortal can cure.
"The Winter it is past." Mr. Stenhouse, in his Notes on Johnson's Museum, vol. ii. pp. 187, 188, says that he
" has not yet been so fortunate as to discover who was the author of this plaintive pastoral song : but there are
several variations between the copy inserted in the Museum, and the following stall edition of the ballad. . . . The
plaintive little air to which this song is adapted, is inserted under the same title in Oswald's Caledonian Pocket Com-
panion, Book vii." Mr. Laing, in his Additional Illustrations, id. p. 226, says, " Cromek found the first eight lines of
this song among Burns's MSS. ; and he published it as a ' Fragment' by the Ayrshire bard, obviously unaware that
the entire song had been previously included in the present work." In the Theatre Royal, Edinburgh, at his benefit on
24th October 1829, Mr. Braham sang " The winter it is past," with a touching effect that is still remembered by many.
The first eight Hues of this song, as given in this work, are taken from the fragment published by Cromek. They
contain the alterations made by Burns upon the older song, which are improvements, as will be perceived upon com-
paring these lines with those given in Johnson's Museum, and here quoted : —
" The winter it is past, and the summer's come at last,
And the small birds sing on ev'ry tree ;
The hearts of these are glad, but mine is very sad,
For my lover has parted from me.
" The rose upon the brier, by the waters running clear,
May have charms for the linnet or the bee ;
Their little loves are blest, and their little hearts at rest,
But my lover is parted from me."
The first two lines of the third stanza, as given by Johnson, are so bad that we have adopted in their stead the cor-
responding lines in R. A. Smith's " Scottish Minstrel," which are certainly better than the following doggerel :—
" My love is like the sun, in the firmament does run,
For ever is constant and true."
In the edition given by Mr. Stenhouse, above-mentioned, the third stanza is as follows : —
" My love is like the sun,
That unwearied dotb run,
Through the firmament, aye constant and true;
But his is like the moon,
That wanders up and down,
And is ev'ry month changing anew."

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