Rambling Boy- (Glasgow) Robertson chapbook, 1799
["The Rambling Boy," from a chapbook by J. & M. Robertson, Saltmarket, Glasgow; 1799.
It's a different text than the one from a 1790 Glasgow chapbook by an unidentified printer. The same text as "Rambling Boy" printed by William Scott in Greenock no date, probably early 1800s.
R. Matteson 2017]
THE RAMBLING BOY.
I am a rake and a rambling boy.
I’m lately come from Auchnacloy;
A rambling boy although I be,
I'll forsake them all and go with thee.
My father promis’d me houses and land.
If I would be at his command;
At his command, love, I ne’er will be ;
I’ll forsake them all love and go with thee.
For houses and land they are but a plot,
Houses and land I do value not;
For houses and garden I will provide,
And have my darling down by my side.
Well doth he know I can shape and few,
Well doth he know I can bake and brew,
I can wash his linen and dress them fine.
And yet he’s gone and left me behind.
O Willie Baillie ye told me lies,
You’d build me castles up to the skies,
And every river should have a brigg,
And every finger a fine gold ring.
O Billy, Billy, I love thee well,
I love thee better than tongue can tell,
I love thee well though I dare not show it,
My dearest dear, let no man know it.
I wish I were a black-bird or thrush,
Singing my notes from bush to bush;
That all the world might plainly fee,
I lov’d a man, and he lov’d not me.
Or was I, but a silly fly.
In my love's bosom then would I lie.
When all the world was fall asleep,
In my love’s bosom then would I creep.
My love he came late In the night,
Seeking for his sweet-heart's delight;
He ran up stairs, the door he broke,
And found his love all in a rope.
Then he went up and cut her down,
And in her bosom a note was found,
Wrote in shining letters to bright,
Enough a mortal’s heart to break.
“Go dig my grave both wide and deep,
And cover it with a marble stone;
And in the middle a turtle dove,
To show the world that I dy’d for love."
Tis not for gold that I lie here,
Nor yet for jewels, know my dear;
But it is for that sweet Irish boy,
That has caused my sad destiny.