Gala Water.
[The exquisitely beautiful tune of "Gala Water" is known to be very old, but nothing can be said of its precise era. Dr. Haydn, the celebrated German composer, admired it, and wrote on the music-sheet of it a note in his best English: "This one Dr. Haydn favourite song." The old words of the tune are lost, with the exception of the two following verses:
Braw, braw lads of Gala water,
Braw, braw lads of Gala water;
I'll kilt my coats aboon my knee,
And follow my love through the water.
O'er yon bank and o'er yon brae,
O'er yon moss amang the heather,
I'll kilt my coats aboon my knee,
And follow my love through the water."
In Herd's, Johnson's, and other collections, two verses are added to these, which properly belong to the song called "The lassie lost her silken snood." The following version of "Gala Water" is by Burns, and was written by him in January, 1793, for Thomson's collection. It may be added, that the Gala is a small stream which rises in MidLothian, runs south, and falls into the Tweed above Melrose.]
There's braw, braw lads on Yarrow braes,
That wander through the blooming heather:
But Yarrow braes, nor Ettrick shaws,
Can match the lads o' Gala water.
But there is ane, a secret ane,
Abune them a' I lo'e him better;
And I'll be his, and he'll be mine,
The bonnie lad o' Gala water.
Although his daddie was nae laird,
And though I ha'e nae mickle tocher;
Yet rich in kindest, truest love,
We'll tent our flocks on Gala water.
It ne'er was wealth, it ne'er was wealth,
That coft contentment, peace, or pleasure;
The bands and bliss o' mutual love,
O that's the chiefest warld's treasure!