Robert Burns: the first rapper

This year I was invited to give the speech for the lassies at a Burns Supper. I really wanted to do it but I was unable to as I had a prior engagement. But for those who don’t know Burns here’s a quick summary: he was the greatest!

Robert Burns was a Scottish rapper, poet and song-writer of the eighteenth century, now loved across the world by millions. He invented so many famous words and sayings: ‘whatever’ and ‘so what?’ are two of the ones he didn’t invent. But his do include ‘faint heart never won fair lady’; ‘always try for intimacy at the first possible opportunity’; ‘the best laid schemes of mice and men gang aft aglay (go often astray)’; ‘man’s inhumanity to man makes countless millions mourn’ and of course he wrote that song you can never remember the words to on New Year’s Eve, ‘Should auld acquaintance be forgot (Auld Lang Syne)’.

Burns was the king of the one-liners. He was a head taller than any other man. He was the perfect bit of rough. He had 13 children by five different mothers. He was the poet of the people, one of the wildest men of all times, a revolutionary upstart in Edinburgh. The Scottish establishment have always tried to tone down his image – nice man in kilt on biscuit tin, they make him seem like Daniel O’Donnell. But he was the hell-raiser to end all hell-raisers. If you add Eminem to Elvis to Kurt Cobain to Keith Moon you still wouldn’t have raised enough hell.

“He wrote that song you can never remember the words to on New Year’s Eve”

He also wrote one of the great protest songs of all time, ‘The Slave’s Lament’. I recommend the version by Jean Redpath.

It was in sweet Senegal
That my foes did me enthral
For the lands of Virginia, -ginia, O!
Torn from that lovely shore,
And must never see it more,
And alas! I am weary, weary, O!

All on that charming coast
Is no bitter snow and frost,
Like the lands of Virginia, -ginia, O!
There streams for ever flow,
And the flowers for ever blow,
And alas! I am weary, weary, O!

The burden I must bear,
While the cruel scourge I fear,
In the lands of Virginia, -ginia, O!
And I think on friends most dear
With the bitter, bitter tear,
And alas! I am weary, weary, O!

Burns was also one of the greatest love poets and letter writers of all time. Well, he did have plenty to write to! Here are two of his lesser known but greatest songs. ‘Corn Rigs’ is best known now from the Paul Giovanni version in The Wicker Man but less well known is that it is a Burns song. ‘Green Grow The Rashes’ is best sung by Michael Marra who sadly died very recently. Give yourself a real treat and listen to his amazing version now on YouTube. He’s been called the Scottish Tom Waits but he’s unique. Happy Valentine’s Day everybody!

Corn Rigs (or Rigs ’o Barley)

It was upon a Lammas night
When the corn rigs were bonnie,
Beneath the moon’s unclouded light
I held awa’ to Annie.

The time flew by wi’ tentless heed
’Til ’tween the late and early,
Wi’ small persuasion she agreed
To see me thro’ the barley.

Corn Rigs and barley rigs
Corn rigs are bonny
I’ll ne’eer forget that Lammas night
Amang the rigs wi’ Annie.

The sky was blue, the wind was still,
The moon was shining clearly.
I set her down wi’ right good will
Amang the rigs o’ barley.

I kept her heart, was a’ my sin.
I loved her most sincerely.
I kissed her o’er and o’er again
Amang the rigs o’ barley.

I locked her in my fond embrace.
Her heart was beatin’ rarely.
My blessing on that happy place
Amang the rigs o’ barley.

But by the moon and stars so bright
That shone that hour so clearly,
She aye shall bless that happy night
Amang the rigs of barley.

I hae been blythe wi’ comrades dear
I hae been merry drinking.
I hae been joyful gath’rin’ gear
I hae been happy thinking.

But a’ the pleasures e’er I saw
Tho’ three times doubled fairly,
That happy night was worth them a’
Amang the rigs wi’ Annie.

Green Grow The Rashes

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,
An’ ’twere na for the lasses, O.
Green grow,

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,

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,

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,

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,

If you want to know more about Burns I recommend Catherine Carswell’s biography.
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