If there’s one thing I’ve learned from listening to Scottish Songs for George Thomson it’s that the song titles are often quite intriguing, even amusing.

Track 20 (“I wish my Love were in a Myre”), for example. The hell does that mean?

I Googled the title and found the lyrics to this very old song on a site called The Lied, Art Song, and Choral Texts Archive that appears to be a labor of love for a woman named Emily Ezust. The lyrics:

Again rejoicing Nature sees
Her robe assume its vernal hues,
Her leafy locks wave in the breeze
All freshly steep’d in morning dews.
In vain to me the cowslips blaw,
In vain to me the vi’lets spring,
In vain to me in glen or shaw,
The mavis and the lintwhite sing.

The merry ploughboy cheers his team,
Wi’ joy the tentie seedsman stalks;
But life to me’s a weary dream,
A dream of ane that never wauks.
The sheep-herd steeks his faulding slap,
And o’er the moorlands whistles shill,
Wi’ wild, unequal, wand’ring step
I meet him on the dewy hill.

And when the lark ‘tween light and dark,
Blythe waukens by the daisy’s side,
And mounts and sings on flitt’ring wings,
A wae-worn ghaist I hameward glide.
Come, Winter, with thine angry howl,
And raging bend the naked tree;
Thy gloom will soothe my cheerless soul,
When Nature all is sad like me. Continue reading →