If you git there before I do, Tell all my frien's I'm a-comin', too, The brightes' day that ever I saw, I'm sometimes up an' sometimes down, But still my soul feel heavenly boun', From the art-song, which is the work of a known poet and a known musician, the folk-song differs in that no one knows who wrote either the melody or the words. The folk-song, although in many instances probably launched by an individual author, has been handed down by tradition until it has come to be the fitting expression of the spirit of a race. In poetic merit, it is, of course, inferior to the art-song; but its sincerity and its naturalness are inimitable. The folk-song is the ultimate basis of both modern music and modern poetry. "From it," says Mrs. Wodehouse in her discussion of the Song in Grove's Dictionary of Music, "we have derived not only our scales, but the shape of our melodies, the outlines of our musical form, and indirectly the art of harmony and cadences.” follows that, as she points out, America has "no distinctive characteristics of her own in music. Deprived as it has been of its natural foundation, i. e., the folksong, her national music must be formed on the indi It viduality of her composers.' Mrs. Wodehouse might have added with equal truth that American poetry has too often been feeble and imitative because it has little basis in native folk-lore apart from that of the negro and the Indian. When poetry and music emerge from the twilight obscurity of prehistoric times, they are practically always found together. Among present-day savages, who preserve for us the chief clues to the origin of music and poetry, the two arts are still united. It is believed by most authorities that both poetry and music evolved from the dance, which is intimately related to primitive poetry and music. Rhythm is the element which unites these three arts, as form is the element common to painting, sculpture, and architecture. The debt of modern poetry to the folk-song is clearly seen in the songs of Robert Burns, the greatest of all song-writers. Even before the time of Burns, Scotland had not only an almost unrivaled wealth of beautiful folknelodies but a widespread interest in song. This folkmusic preserves the humor and pathos of thousands of long dead singers. During the Reformation the singing of these songs was forbidden by the clergy; but they continued to be sung in secret. At merry-makings when no minister was present, "the wee sinfu' fiddle" was brought out and the old songs were sung. By the beginning of the eighteenth century, though the airs were as beautiful as ever, the words had nearly all become corrupt and often indecent. It was the task of Burns and other Scottish poets to fit to the old airs equally beautiful and appropriate poems. With Burns, the poem grew directly out of the melody. He thus described his method of composition: "Until I am complete master of a tune in my own singing (such as it is), I can never compose to it. My way is: I consider the poetic sentiment corresponding to my idea of the musical expression, then choose my theme, begin one stanza, and when that is composed, which is generally the most difficult part of the business, I walk out, sit down now and then, look out for objects of nature around me that are in unison and harmony. . . humming every now and then the air with the verses I have composed. When I feel my muse beginning to jade, I retire to the solitary fireside of my study, and there commit my effusions to paper, swinging at intervals on the hind legs of my elbow chair by way of calling forth my own critical strictures as my pen goes on." In "Afton Water" Burns has thus wedded appropriate words to an old air. The Mary in whose honor the song was written seems not to have been the famous Highland Mary. A brae is a hillside facing a stream; birk is Scots for birch. AFTON WATER Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes, Thou stock-dove whose echo resounds thro' the glen, How lofty, sweet Afton, thy neighbouring hills, How pleasant thy banks and green valleys below, Thy crystal stream, Afton, how lovely it glides, Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes, The Scottish dialect will give the reader little difficulty if he will observe certain simple rules. English o is usually represented by Scottish a, ai, or au, as in amang, baith, and auld. K is often found where English has ch, as in birk and kirk, for birch and church. Certain consonants are frequently omitted in Scots, especially 1 and v, as in fa' and gi'e. Although all of Burns's songs are written to old airs, some of them, like "Afton Water" and "Highland Mary," are original poems. More often, however, Burns is found revising the words of a folk-song. Sometimes his changes are few; more often he recasts the entire poem. excellent example of his revision is to be seen in "Auld An Lang Syne," which is perhaps the most widely known song in the language. Strangely enough, though the air we now sing fits the poem well, it is not the one for which it was written. Burns is here trying to express the feeling of friendship. Imagine two old friends meeting after many years to talk over old times—auld lang syne means old times, but it is more expressive than the English phrase. The first two lines in the second stanza mean I'll pay for my drink and you for yours; or, in modern slang, "We'll go Dutch." Gowans means daisies; burn, brook; fiere, comrade; a right guid-willie waught, a friendly drink. AULD LANG SYNE Should auld acquaintance be forgot For auld lang syne, my dear, For auld lang syne, We'll tak' a cup o' kindness yet, And surely ye'll be your pint-stowp, And we'll tak' a cup o' kindness yet We twa ha'e run about the braes, But we've wander'd mony a weary foot |