Monday, September 03, 2012
The Very Stuff That Life Is Made Of
Anonymous, in The Northern Muse: An Anthology of Scots Vernacular Poetry, ed. John Buchan (1924; rpt. London: Thomas Nelson & Sons, Ltd., 1947), pp. 210-211:
3, 7 shoon: shoes
4, 8, 24 (cf. 16) Gude ale hauds my heart aboon: Good ale holds my heart up (aboon = above)
7 sough: sigh
9, 10: stanes, banes: stones, bones
13 spae'd of: prophesied of, foretold
15: receipt: recipe, formula; cf. Charles Lamb, The Nuns and Ale of Caverswell: "The art of brewing it was no happy labour of man's brain—there is a mystery about the manner of its being communicated to earth; it was dropt in a receipt from the moon."
18 Who wad keep gude ale frae gude fallows: Who would keep good ale from good fellows
20 drouth: thirst
23 loon: "a man of low birth or condition" (OED)
The song is also printed in Allan Cunningham, ed., The Songs of Scotland, Ancient and Modern, Vol. I (London: John Taylor, 1825), p. 296. Cunningham adds (p. 297):
1 pleugh: plough
2 weel eneugh: well enough
3 sald: sold
3 ane by ane: one by one
6 moop: "To associate or consort with; to live with someone in marriage. Chiefly in to moup and mell: to keep close or intimate company" (OED, s.v. moup, sense 2)
6 hizzie: hussy
The tune for the Burns song, as printed in The Songs of Robert Burns, Now First Printed with the Melodies for Which They Were Written, ed. James C. Dick (London: Henry Frowde, 1903), p. 218:
Newer› ‹Older
O gude ale comes and gude ale goes,2 gars: makes
Gude ale gars me sell my hose,
Sell my hose and pawn my shoon,
Gude ale hauds my heart aboon:
Gude ale keeps me bare and busy, 5
Brandy makes me dull and dizzy,
Gars me sleep and sough i' my shoon:
Gude ale hauds my heart aboon.
O in the sweetest plums there's stanes,
And in the fairest beef there's banes; 10
Rum turns ye rude, wine makes ye pale,
There's life and love and soul in ale;
Gude ale's the medicine oft spae'd of,
The very stuff that life is made of,
Dropt in a receipt from the moon, 15
To haud men's sinking hearts aboon.
May he rub shoulders wi' the gallows,
Who wad keep gude ale frae gude fallows;
May he gape wide when suns are south,
And never drink come near his drouth; 20
But here's to him, where'er he roam,
Wha loves to see the flagons foam,
For he's a king o'er lord and loon—
Gude ale hauds my heart aboon.
3, 7 shoon: shoes
4, 8, 24 (cf. 16) Gude ale hauds my heart aboon: Good ale holds my heart up (aboon = above)
7 sough: sigh
9, 10: stanes, banes: stones, bones
13 spae'd of: prophesied of, foretold
15: receipt: recipe, formula; cf. Charles Lamb, The Nuns and Ale of Caverswell: "The art of brewing it was no happy labour of man's brain—there is a mystery about the manner of its being communicated to earth; it was dropt in a receipt from the moon."
18 Who wad keep gude ale frae gude fallows: Who would keep good ale from good fellows
20 drouth: thirst
23 loon: "a man of low birth or condition" (OED)
The song is also printed in Allan Cunningham, ed., The Songs of Scotland, Ancient and Modern, Vol. I (London: John Taylor, 1825), p. 296. Cunningham adds (p. 297):
Much of this hearty song is old, and it cannot be denied that some of it is new. I have heard many varieties of it, and collected many verses in which there is much more sensuality than sentiment, and more love shown for good ale than good wit.There are similar verses by Robert Burns:
I had sax owsen in a pleugh,1 sax owsen: six oxen
They drew a' weel eneugh,
I sald them a', ane by ane,
Gude ale keeps my heart aboon.
Gude ale hauds me bare and busy, 5
Gars me moop wi' the servant hizzie,
Stand i' the stool when I hae done,
Gude ale keeps my heart aboon.
O gude ale comes and gude ale goes,
Gude ale gars me sell my hose, 10
Sell my hose, and pawn my shoon,
Gude ale keeps my heart aboon.
1 pleugh: plough
2 weel eneugh: well enough
3 sald: sold
3 ane by ane: one by one
6 moop: "To associate or consort with; to live with someone in marriage. Chiefly in to moup and mell: to keep close or intimate company" (OED, s.v. moup, sense 2)
6 hizzie: hussy
The tune for the Burns song, as printed in The Songs of Robert Burns, Now First Printed with the Melodies for Which They Were Written, ed. James C. Dick (London: Henry Frowde, 1903), p. 218:
