The Bonie Lass of Albany
My heart is wae, and unco wae,To think upon the raging sea,That roars between her gardens greenAn’ the bonie Lass of Albany.
This lovely maid’s of royal bloodThat ruled Albion’s kingdoms three,But oh, alas! for her bonie face,They’ve wrang’d the Lass of Albany.
In the rolling tide of spreading ClydeThere sits an isle of high degree,And a town of fame whose princely nameShould grace the Lass of Albany.
But there’s a youth, a witless youth,That fills the place where she should be;We’ll send him o’er to his native shore,And bring our ain sweet Albany.
Alas the day, and woe the day,A false usurper wan the gree,Who now commands the towers and lands—The royal right of Albany.
We’ll daily pray, we’ll nightly pray,On bended knees most fervently,The time may come, with pipe an’ drumWe’ll welcome hame fair Albany.
Words in this poem
- unco a.
- Unknown; strange, or foreign; unusual, or surprising; distant in manner; reserved. [Scot. The same word as E. uncouth.]
- lass n.
- A youth woman; a girl; a sweetheart. [OE. lasse; prob. of Celtic origin; cf. W. llodes girl, fem. of llawd lad. (Lad a youth.]
- isle v. t.
- To cause to become an island, or like an island; to surround or encompass; to island.
- witless a.
- Destitute of wit or understanding; wanting thought; hence, indiscreet; not under the guidance of judgment.
- usurper n.
- One who usurps; especially, one who seizes illegally on sovereign power; as, the usurper of a throne, of power, or of the rights of a patron.
- gree n.
- Good will; favor; pleasure; satisfaction; -- used esp. in such phrases as: to take in gree; to accept in gree; that is, to take favorably. [F. gré. See Grateful, and cf. Agree.]
- nightly a.
- Of or pertaining to the night, or to every night; happening or done by night, or every night; as, nightly shades; he kept nightly vigils.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
The Bonie Lass of Albany is in the public domain. This text is taken from Poems and Songs of Robert Burns, Project Gutenberg ebook #1279; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Robert Burns, The Bonie Lass of Albany, in Poems and Songs (1786–1796), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #1279, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/burns-poems/the-bonie-lass-of-albany.html, id L03102.
Form and metre
The Bonie Lass of Albany is 24 lines in 6 verse paragraphs. It is unrhymed, as far as the pronouncing dictionary can tell. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 88%). 91% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 8.2 syllables. 7 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 21% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in iambic tetrameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic tetrameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| My heart is wae, and unco wae, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| To think upon the raging sea, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| That roars between her gardens green | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| An’ the bonie Lass of Albany. | 9 | ······/˘˘ |
| This lovely maid’s of royal blood | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| That ruled Albion’s kingdoms three, | 8 | ··/˘˘/˘· |
| But oh, alas! for her bonie face, | 9 | ··˘/····· |
| They’ve wrang’d the Lass of Albany. | 8 | ·····/˘˘ |
| In the rolling tide of spreading Clyde | 9 | ··/˘··/˘· |
| There sits an isle of high degree, | 8 | ······˘/ |
| And a town of fame whose princely name | 9 | ······/˘· |
| Should grace the Lass of Albany. | 8 | ·····/˘˘ |
| But there’s a youth, a witless youth, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| That fills the place where she should be; | 8 | ········ |
| We’ll send him o’er to his native shore, | 9 | ······/˘· |
| And bring our ain sweet Albany. | 9 | ··/˘··/˘˘ |
| Alas the day, and woe the day, | 8 | ˘/······ |
| A false usurper wan the gree, | 8 | ··˘/˘··· |
| Who now commands the towers and lands— | 8 | ··˘/·/·· |
| The royal right of Albany. | 8 | ·/˘··/˘˘ |
| We’ll daily pray, we’ll nightly pray, | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| On bended knees most fervently, | 8 | ·/˘··/˘˘ |
| The time may come, with pipe an’ drum | 8 | ········ |
| We’ll welcome hame fair Albany. | 8 | ·/˘··/˘˘ |
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