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Rantin', Rovin' Robin - Songs of Robert Burns

by Castlebay

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1.
Rantin', Rovin' Robin [5:04] 05:05
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There was a lad was born in Kyle, But whatn'a day, o' whatn'a style I doot it's hardly worth the while Tae be sae nice wi' Robin Chorus For Robin was a rovin' boy, A rantin' rovin' rantin' rovin', Robin was a rovin' boy, A rantin' rovin' Robin. Oor Monarch's hindmost year but ane, Was five and twenty days begun' 'Twas then a blast o' Januar' win' Blew hansel in on Robin. The gossip keekit in his loof, Quo' scho,"Wha' lives shall see the proof, This waly boy will be nae cuif; I think we'll ca' him Robin". He'll hae misfortunes great and sma' But aye a heart abune them a' He'll be a credit tae us a'; We'll a' be prood o' Robin. But sure as three times three mak' nine, I see by ilka score and line, This chap will dearly like oor kin' So leeze me on thee, Robin. "Guid faith," quo' scho, "I doubt you Sir, Ye'll gar the lasses lie aspar; But twenty fauts ye may hae waur- So blessins on thee, Robin." Glossary Kyle-old district of Ayrshire whatna- whatever, no matter doot- doubt ane- one hansel- good luck gift gossip-midwife keekit- peeked or glanced loof- palm of the hand scho- she wha'- whoever waly- healthy cuif- fool abune- above prood- proud ilka- every oor kin'- our kind; humanity leeze me on thee- here's to you gar- make aspar- with legs apart fauts- faults hae waur- have worse
2.
Green Grow the Rashes [4:27] 04:29
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Chorus Green grow the rashes, O; Green grow the rashes, O; The sweetest hours that e'er I spend, Are spent amang the lasses, O. There's nought but care on ev'ry han', In ev'ry hour that passes, O: What signifies the life o' man, If 't was nae for the lasses, O? Green grow, &c. The war'ly race may riches chase, An' riches still may fly them, O; An' tho' at last they catch them fast, Their hearts can ne'er enjoy them, O. Green grow, &c. But gie me a cannie hour at e'en, My arms about my dearie, O; An' war'ly cares, an' war'ly men, May a' gae tapsalteerie, O! Green grow, &c. For you sae douce, ye sneer at this; Ye're nought but senseless asses, O: The wisest man the warl' e'er saw, He dearly lov'd the lasses, O. Green grow, &c. Auld Nature swears, the lovely dears Her noblest work she classes, O: Her prentice han' she try'd on man, An' then she made the lasses, O. Green grow, &c. Glossary rashes- reeds warly- worldly gie- give cannie- comfortable tapsalteerie- upside down douce- delicate
3.
The Rantin' Dog, the Daddie O't/My Lov She's But a Lassie Yet [3:07] 03:09
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O wha my babie-clouts will buy? O wha will tent me when I cry? Wha will kiss me where I lie? The rantin' dog, the daddie o't. O wha will own he did the faut? O wha will buy the groanin maut? O wha will tell me how to ca't? The rantin' dog, the daddie o't. When I mount the creepie-chair, Wha will sit beside me there? Gie me Rob, I'll seek nae mair, The rantin' dog, the daddie o't. Wha will crack to me my lane? Wha will mak me fidgin' fain? Wha will kiss me o'er again? The rantin' dog, the daddie o't. Glossary Wha- who clouts- diapers tent- heed rantin' -raucous, carefree faut- fault Groanin' maut- whisky for the midwife How to ca't- what to name it creepie chair- stool of repentance in church nae mair- no longer Crack- chat my lane- my loneliness fidgin' fain- eagerly ready
4.
O' A' the Airts [2:50] 02:51
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Of a' the airts the wind can blaw, I dearly like the west, For there the bonie 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 fancys' 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 bonie flower that springs, By fountain, shaw, or green; There's not a bonie bird that sings, But minds me o' my Jean. Glossary airts -directions row- roll mony- many shaw-hillside
5.
The Moudiwart / Kiss Me Quick, My Minnie's Comin' / The Stool O' Repentance [5:08] 05:11
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6.
Ye Banks & Braes O' Bonnie Doon [3:23] 03:24
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Ye banks and braes o' bonie Doon, How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair? How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae weary fu' o' care! Thou'll break my heart, thou warbling bird, That wantons thro' the flowering thorn: Thou minds me o' departed joys, Departed never to return. Aft hae I rov'd by Bonie Doon, To see the rose and woodbine twine: And fondly sae did I o' mine; Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose, Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree! And my fause Luver staw my rose, But ah! he left the thorn wi' me. Glosary brae- small hill wantons- skips about pu'd -picked fu' -full fause- false Luver- lover staw- stole
7.
Willie Brewed a Peck O' Maut / The Mason's Apron [5:31] 05:34
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Oh Willie brewed a peck o' maut An' Rob and' Allan cam tae see Three blyther lads that leelang nicht Ye wadna fin' in Christendie Chorus We are na' fou, we're no that fou But just a drappie in oor e'e The cock may craw, the day may daw But aye we'll taste the barley bree Here are we met three merry boys Three merry boys I trow are we And mony a nicht we've merry been And mony mair we hope tae be It is the moon; I ken her horn That's blinkin' in the lift sae hie She shines sae bricht tae wile us hame But, by my sooth, she'll wait a wee Wha first shall rise an' gang awa' A cuckold coward loon is he Wha last beside his chair shall fa' He is the king amang us three Glossary maut - malt fou- drunk leelang- whole entire Christendie-all Christian lands Just a drappie in oor e'e- only slightly craw- crow daw- dawn barley bree- ale trow- swear, believe mony- many nicht- night mair- more ken her horn- see her crescent blinkin' in the lift- shining in the sky sae bricht- so bright tae wile us hame- to lure us home by my sooth- truthfully a wee- a bit gang awa'- go away cuckold- wimpy or hen-pecked loon- fellow
8.
The Deil's Awa' / The Devil in the Kitchen [2:48] 02:51
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he Deil cam fiddlin thro' the town, And danc'd awa wi' th' Exciseman! And ilka auld wife cries: -'Auld Mahoun, I wish ye luck o' the prize, man! Chorus The Deil's awa, the Deil's awa, The Deil's awa wi' th' Exciseman! He's danc'd awa, he's danc'd awa, He's danc'd awa wi' th' Exciseman! We'll mak oor maut, we'll brew oor drink We'll laugh, sing, and rejoice, man, And monie braw thanks to the meikle black Deil, That danc'd awa wi' th' Exciseman! There's threesome reels, there's foursome reels, There's hornpipes and strathspeys, man, But the ae best dance ere cam to the land Was The Deil's Awa wi' th' Exciseman!' Glossar De' il- devil awa' - away ilka- every auld- old maut- malt monie braw- many great meikle- brawny threesome reels,foursome reels, hornpipes and strathspeys- various Scottish country dances
9.
My Heart's In the Highlands [3:35] 03:37
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My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here, My heart's in the Highlands, a-chasing the deer; Chasing the wild-deer, and following the roe, My heart's in the Highlands, wherever I go. Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North, The birth-place of Valour, the country of Worth; Wherever I wander, wherever I rove, The hills of the Highlands for ever I love. Farewell to the mountains, high-cover'd with snow, Farewell to the straths and green vallies below; Farewell to the forests and wild-hanging woods, Farewell to the torrents and loud-pouring floods. My heart's in the Highlands, etc.
10.
A Parcel O' Rogues [3:23] 03:14
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Fareweel to a' our Scottish fame Fareweel our ancient glory Fareweel e'en to the Scottish name So famed in martial story Now Sark runs to the Solway sands And Tweed runs to the ocean To mark where England's province stands Such a parcel o' rogues in a nation What force or guile could not subdue Through many warlike ages Is wrought now by a coward few For hireling traitor's wages The English steel we could disdain Secure in valour's station But English gold has been our bane Such a parcel o' rogues in a nation O would ere I had seen the day That treason thus could sell us My auld grey heid had lien in clay Wi' Bruce and loyal Wallace But pith find power till my last hour I'll mak this declaration We're bought and sold for English gold Such a parcel o' rogues in a nation
11.
The Rights of Man / Jefferson and Liberty [3:12] 03:25
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12.
A Man's a Man [4:05] 04:07
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Is there for honest poverty That hings his head, an' a' that? The coward-slave, we pass him by -- We dare be poor for a' that! For a' that, an' a' that, Our toils obscure, an' a' that, The rank is but the guinea's stamp, The man's the gowd for a' that. What though on hamely fare we dine, Wear hoddin grey, an' a' that? Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine -- A man's a man for a' that. For a' that, an' a' that, Their tinsel show, an' a' that, The honest man, tho' e'er sae poor, Is king o' men for a' that. Ye see yon birkie ca'd 'a lord,' Wha struts, an' stares, an' a' that? Tho' hundreds worship at his word, He's but a cuif for a' that. For a' that, an' a' that, His ribband, star, an' a' that, The man o' independent mind, He looks an' laughs at a' that. A prince can mak a belted knight, A marquis, duke, an' a' that! But an honest man's aboon his might -- Guid faith, he mauna fa' that! For a' that, an' a' that, Their dignities, an' a' that, The pith o' sense an' pride o' worth Are higher rank than a' that. Then let us pray that come it may (As come it will for a' that) That Sense and Worth o'er a' the earth Shall bear the gree an' a' that! For a' that, an' a' that, It's comin yet for a' that, That man to man the world o'er Shall brithers be for a' that! Glossary coward-slave- slave to cowardice gowd- gold hamely fare-ordinary food hoddin grey- course clothing birkie- dandy fellow cuif- a dolt aboon- above fa'- fault bear the gree- have the first place brithers- brothers
13.
Auld Lang Syne / Whisky Welcome Back Again / The Bottom of the Punch Bowl [7:39] 07:39
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Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And days o' lang syne? Chorus For auld lang syne, my jo, For auld lang syne, We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet, For auld lang syne We twa hae rin aboot the braes, And pu'd the gowans fine; But we've wander'd mony a weary foot Sin auld lang syne We twa hae paidlet i' the burn, Frae mornin' sun till dine: But seas between us braid hae roar'd, Sin auld lang syne. And there's a hand, my trusty fiere, And gie's a hand o' thine, And we'll tak a right gude willie waught, For auld land syne And surely ye'll be your pint-stowp, And surely I'll be mine; And we'll tak a cup o' kindness yet, For auld lang syne. Glossary auld - old lang syne- long ago my jo- an endearment twa- two hae rin aboot the braes- have run over the hills pu'd the gowans- picked daisies mony a weary foot- many long journeys Sin- since paidlet- paddled burn- stream braid- broad fiere- friend, brother gie's- give me richt gude willie waught- a good swig pint-stowp- measure of drink (to each their own)

about

For all of his brief life, Robert Burns was an extraordinary man. The son of a painfully poor Scottish Lowland farmer, he worked physically hard most of his life. Spanning a time of social upheaval and revolution he was a man of his time, living freely, testing limits and questioning authority. What is even more extraordinary is that he was never prosecuted for his behavior and in fact became celebrated by a broad spectrum of society.Working in the Scots vernacular as well as in English, farm workers and aristocrats alike responded to his forthright and romantic writings which extolled the virtues of honesty, chivalry, hard work and joyous living while decrying exploitation and duplicity. For all his blunders, he did try to live by his word. A great deal is known about his inner life as most of his myriad letters are preserved in addition to his many public writings. He also contributed heavily to Johnson’s Scots Musical Museum, probably the most important collection of 18th century Scottish song. Burns gathered songs from the people around him, often revising or “mending” them, and included much of his original work. As a result the Museum embodies a living tradition combining innovation and musical anthropology.

credits

released July 17, 2009

Julia Lane is a self-taught harper whose unique style has won the New England Regional Scottish Harp Championship (1990, 1991) and the Stonehill Irish Festival International Harp Competition (1992). She is an exceptional vocalist whose voice has been described as vibrant and haunting

Fred Gosbee, in addition to singing in his rich baritone, plays guitars, viola, fiddle, and flutes. Several of the instruments used by the duo are of his design and construction.

Larry Young lives in Manchester, MA, and has performed with many internationally-known artists. He is an active member in several musical groups including Poor Richards Penny and The Beggar Boys. In addition to teaching violin and fiddle, he is a certified teacher of the Alexander Technique.

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