Letter to George Thomson: 6 June 1808
Mr. George
Thomson, at the Trustees Office Exchange Edinburgh single sheet } [Note, presumably in the receiver’s hand,
upside down to the address text] Mr. Tannahill with
the fresh air “The green woods of Treugh” and a new edition of Ah Sheelah
thou’rt my darling, the song to Nancy Verny – and two other Songs – Ans 11th.
June – approving of the Air [&] Sheelah – but
disapproving of the two Songs. The
green woods of Treugh. [two lines / 16 bars of music] Song Air
– – – The green woods of Treugh. _____________ Adieu!
ye cheeful native plains, Dungeon
glooms receive me, Nothing
now for me remains [Nought alas! For me
a] Of
all the joys ye gave me, All
are flown! Far
from thy shores sweet Erin I
through life must toil, despairing, Lost and unknown. Hark
ye winds around my cell, Nothing
now can wound me, Mingling
with your dreary swell, Prison-groans
surround me, Bodings
wild – Treachery,
thy ruthless doing Long
I’ll mourn in hopeless ruin, Lost
and exil’d. _______________ Dear Sir, The
above little Air pleased me so much that I could not help trying a verse to it, I believe it has never been published. It was taken down
from an old Irish Woman’s singing a native song to it which, she said
when rendered into English, was in praise of the green Woods of Treugh.
’Tis in such a wild measure I could think of no other form of stanza to With
regard to Nancy Verny — You may judge how sorry I was on being assured by a
friend that my set of the Air was incomplete, I thought, of course, that poor
Sheelah was entirely lost, and have been earnestly trying to accommodate
matters between them; I find that the last line but one of each of the verse
must be repeated before they can agree together, and am thus obliged to write
both the Air and song a second time to shew you how they now stand. The sides
of ˄many˄ Lakes and rivers are properly denominated banks,
because, being steep, they really are so, but in my opinion, when a lake or
river is bounded by low level ground, it would be improper to call its margins
by that appellation. we never say the banks of the
sea, and I think the term proper enough, when applied to any bushy brae.
I think [#] I
was highly gratified on finding that the song met with your approbation, and
again return you my warmest thanks for mentioning any thing that you may judge
incongruous: We must first know our errours before there can be a possibility
of amending them. I am informed that there are several ranges of lofty hills on
the banks of the Shannon, although ignorant of their
names I have no doubt of the fact, as that river runs through an extent of
country 150 miles in length. Nancy
Verny. [3 lines music] Song1 ___________ Ah! Sheelah thou’rt my darling The golden
image of my heart, How
cheerless seems this morning, Which brings the hour
when we must part; Tho’
doom’d to cross the ocean, And face the proud insulting foe, Thou
hast my soul’s devotion My heart is thine where’er I go; Ah!
Sheelah thou’rt my darling, My heart is thine where’er I go. When
tost upon the billow, And angry tempests round me blow, Let
not the gloomy willow O’ershade
thy lovely lily brow: But
mind the seaman’s story, Sweet William and his charming Sue, I’ll
soon return with glory, And like sweet William wed thee too; Ah!
Sheelah thou’rt my darling, My heart is thine where’er I go Think
on our days of pleasure, While wand’ring by the Shannon side, When
summer days gave leisure To stray amidst their flow’ry pride; And
while thy faithful lover Is far upon the stormy main, Think,
when the wars are over, These golden days shall come again: Ah!
Sheelah thou’rt my darling, These golden days shall come again. Farewell,
ye loft mountains! Your flow’ry wilds we wont to rove; * Ye
woody glens and fountains, The dear retreats of
mutual love. Alas!
We now must sever -- O Sheelah, to thy vows be true! My
heart is thine forever -- One fond embrace and then adieu; Ah!
Sheelah thou’rt my darling, One fond embrace and
then adieu. ********************** I have fallen in with several very
fine Irish airs but I fear they are already published. Inform me if you know
the following. Kitty Tyrrel; The fair hair’d
child; or Patheen a Fuen. The first of these I am quite in raptures with, if
you have them not already I shall send them in my next. Besides these I have
other two taken from memory, but I must have my worthy musical friend, Mr
Smith to write them off correctly for me, he is just now poorly and confined to
his bed, else I would have sent them now. I have written to a very tasty cronie
who is in the Argyle Shire Militia Band. I know he will gladly oblige one with
any thing of that kind he can procure *yes. I think it is better. [#] In
looking through my Dirge Air – – O’Clonell’s Lament _____________ Responsive
ye woods wing your echoes along, Till
nature, all sad, weeping listen my song, Till
flocks cease their bleeting, and herds cease to low, And
the clear winding rivulet scarce seems to flow; For
fair was the flow’r that once gladden’d our plains, Sweet
rose-bud of virtue, ador’d by our swains, But
fate, like a blast from the chill wintry wave, Has laid my sweet flow’r in yon cold silent grave. Her
warm feeling breast did with sympathy glow, In
innocence pure as the new mountain-snow; Her
face was more fair than the mild apple-bloom, Her
voice sweet as hope whisp’ring pleasures to come. Ah!
Mary my love — wilt thou never return! ’Tis
thy William who calls — burst the bands of thine urn! Together
we’ll wander, Alas! how I rave -- My
Mary lies low in the lone silent grave. Yon
tall leafy plains throw a deep solemn shade O’er
the dear holy spot where my Mary is laid, Lest
the light wanton sunbeams obtrude on the gloom That
lorn love and friendship have wove round her tomb; Still
there let the mild tears of Nature remain, Till
calm dewy ev’ning weep o’er her again, There
oft I will wonder — no boon now I crave, But to weep life away o’er her dark silent grave. __________________________ I
will study to have these other airs forwarded as soon as I can, in the mean
time believe me to remain Your most obedt & humble servt Robt Tannahill. Paisley 6th
June 1808 } To
Mr George Thomson, Edinburgh. Emendations: Nought alas! For me a • Nought alas! For me [a] [written in pencil, in Tannahill’s hand]
My heart is thine where’er I go • [written in pencil, in Tannahill’s hand] Copy Text: MS Robertson 1/18 Previous Publication: Notes: 1 “Song (Ah! Sheelah)” in two columns, broken after second stanza. |