Inglis Collection of printed music > Printed music > Composite music volumes containing different issues of Thomson's octavo collection of the songs of Burns and Sir Walter Scott > Volumes 1-2 > Select melodies of Scotland, interspersed with those of Ireland and Wales

16
ANDREW AND HIS CUTTY-GUN.
THE SONG WRITTEN
BY BURNS.
The heroine of this song was Miss Euphemia Murray of Lintrose.
Blythe, blythe, and merry was she,
Blythe was she but and ben,
Blythe by the banks of Earn,
And blythe in Glenturit glen.
By Ochtertyre grows the aik,
On Yarrow banks the birken shaw,
But Phemie was a bonnier lass
Than braes of Yarrow ever saw.
Blythe, blythe, and merry was she,
Blythe was she but and ben,
Blythe by the banks of Earn,
And blythe in Glenturit glen.
Her looks were like a flow'r in May,
Her smile was like a summer morn ;
She tripped by the banks of Earn,
As light's a bird upon a thorn.
Blythe, blythe, and merry was she,
Blythe was she but and ben,
Blythe by the banks of Earn,
And blythe in Glenturit glen.
Her bonnie face it was as meek
As ony lamb upon the lea !
The evening sun was ne'er sae sweet,
As was the blink o' Phemie's ee.
Blythe, blythe, and merry was she,
Blythe was she but and ben,
Blythe by the banks of Earn,
And blythe in Glenturit glen.
The Highland hills I've wander'd wide,
And o'er the Lawlands I hae been ;
But Phemie was the blythest lass,
That ever trode the dewy green.
THE OLD VERSES TO THE SAME AIR.
Blythe, blythe, blythe was she,
Blythe was she but and ben :
And weel she lik'd a Hawick gill,
And leugh to see a tappit hen.
She took me in, and set me down,
And heght to keep me lawin-free ;
But, cunning carline that she was,
She gart me birle my bawbee.
We loed the liquor weel eneugh ;
But, waes my heart ! the cash was done
Before that I had quench 'd my drowth,
And laith was I to pawn my shoon !
When we had three times toom'd our stoup,
And the neist chappin new begun,
In started, to heeze up our hope,
Young Andro' wi' his cutty-gun.
The carline brought her kebbuck ben,
With girdle-cakes weel toasted brown :
Weel does the canny kimmer ken
They gar the swats gae glibber down.
We ca'd the bicker aft about ;
Till dawning we ne'er jee'd our bun ;
And aye the clearest drinker out,
Was Andro' wi' his cutty-gurr.
He did like ony mavis sing,
And while upon his knee I sat,
He ca'd me aye his bonny thing,
And mony a kindly kiss I gat.
I hae been east, I hae been west,
I hae been far ayont the sun ;
But the blythest lad that e'er I saw,
Was Andro' wi' his cutty-gun.