Images de page
PDF
ePub

Whid out wi' heartfelt glee to greet
Their billie wi' a welcome sweet;
Around him pressing, kissing, speeling;
Transported, laughin', daffin', squeeling,
Twa sonsie lassies, Jean an' Grace,
Catch haud o's hands, and smile in's face;
So Angels smile on spirits blest,
When ent'ring to eternal rest.
Young Charlie seizing his lappells,
Some hist'ry o' his rabbits tells,
While Dick on's back, ay fu' o' game,
Blindfolding him, cries, "Guess ma name."
Blithe Ned and Fanny, young things, steal
Ahint, an' pouk his tails an' squeel;
While wee wee Katie, like a blossom,
Jumps, laughs, an' cuddles in his bosom.
The dogs themsels around him race,
Whine, bark, an' paw him, then gie chase;
Nay, turkies, hens, the ducks an' geese,
Flock round and clamour without cease.
There stranger-cousins, young and blate,
Look wistfu' frae the neighb'ring gate,
Or peep ahint the paling grate;
While aulder folks enjoy the splore,
Frae winnocks, or at open door.
Acquaintance these, frien's, uncles, aunts,
Arrived upon their annual jaunts,

To cheer the farm-house, share its joys,
Partake the Daft-days feasts and ploys,
Re-live the past, when young an' gay-
Life seem'd an afternoon o' play!
O how desired! but ah! youth's dream
Is faithless as an April's gleam;
The tear, the smile, thegether blend,
As through their lives they backward wend,
In sweet exchange o' mind enjoy
The hour not given to frolic joy.
Nay, e'en the maids frae winnocks gaze
On Tammy an' his dandy claes ;
Fu' eager blaw and rub the lozen,
Keek, blaw, and rub, for sair it's frozen.
How happy he-how pleased frien's ee
him,

An' pat an' daut him, glad to see him,
Commend his growth and sturdy stump,
His looks weel-far'd, his cheeks sae plump,
His air and dress sae spruce-O ho!
Exclaim the younkers," What a Beau!"
Now bun, short-bread, seed-cake, and
wine,

Belunchein a', for late they dine.
Some neebors come in best array,
To feast an' spend the Hogmanay,
See out the year wi' suiting din,
An' drink the new triumphant in.
The dinner ower, the toddy smokes,
A fav'rite bouse o' Loudon folks ;
Nae chilpet wines in frost for them,
But reeking bowls to warm the frame,
To thaw the heart, by care fast bound,
An' send it in a gush around.

While ower the bowl some social sit,
To reels aboon some shake a fit;
There Beaus and Belles to music's peal
Yet lighter, blither, happier feel.
The maiden's cheek yet richer blows,
The brilliant ee yet brighter glows;
Saft pulses quicken, quiver, start,
An' jump around the flutt'ring heart;

Awaking melody and joy,
An' love's first raptures, guiltless of alloy.
The sang, the dance, or social glass,
Thus oil the hours that scrieven pass,
Until the knock's descending mell
Ring out the year's funereal knell.
Halloo at ance, the kissing, fun,
An' gratulating, are begun.
Wi' hand in hand the couples say,
A guid new year, an' mony mae,
Syne on the sappy kiss lads lay.
Och! struggling, skirling, "fie for shame,"
Just serve to send the kiss mair hame;
While round the spicy het pint passes
Frae honest men to bonnie lasses;
An' syne the party tak the road
That leads them to the land o' Nod.

O Scotland! cradle o' my youth,
I prize thee wi' a heart o' truth;
In ither lands my lot though cast,
I lo'ed thee first, will lo'e thee last
O bless thee an' thy kindly race,
The firm o' heart, the fair o' face,
The vig'rous-minded, gentle-soul'd,
Wha mak thee mair an' mair extoll'd!
O bless the kindred groups that smile
Around thy board, devoid o' guile !
Commingling hearts-exchanging mind-
Communion rapt'rous an' refined.
O bless the rural train, wha gay
In friendly bands partake the day,
Behold the wasted year expire,
An' Phoenix like the new aspire,
Impatient till on them maist dear
They've wish'd the blessings o' the year,
Wha mingle to rewake the joys
That charm'd the buoyant-hearted boys;
Revive the frolic an' the fun
That lang time ran, and lang will run;
Look blushing at the girl lang priz'd,
Till full in bloom she's idoliz'd;
Caressing frien's for whom they feel
A deeper love, a loftier zeal.

The mornin' dawns-an eastern haze
Is curling, whirling ower the braes,
Unrolling slowly, dense, an' keen,
Turning grey morn to mirky e'en.
Fast, fast the snawy flakes are fa'ing,
An' corbie flights are clam'rous crawing;
Their course low winging in the lift,
In black'ning flocks amang the drift.
Puir beasties, wha can envy them
Their cauld, cauld nest, an' hungry wame,
As cozie by the ingle's bleeze
We feast at will, an' laugh at ease?
The wee wild birds frae wood an' field
Flee flickering in, to find a bield
Amang the stacks, the shiels, or where
To hide their head, an' chitter there.
An' whistling to the winnock comes
The robin, gratefu' for his crumbs.
Afore the doors geese, hens, ducks, drake,
A gaggling, cackling, quacking make;
While dowie in the strae-yard rowte,
Mid grunting swine, the kye an' nowte;
Those carrying up an' down the strae,
The sign o' stormy night, or day;
The nowte an' kye their coods now chowin',
Now roaring, goring, doufer growin".

[graphic]

Thus Nature out o' doors appears
Oppress'd wi' languor, grief, an' fears.
Yet, cadgie by the parlour bleeze,
Sic scenes as thae by contrast please;
The blithesome groupe, at breakfast now,
May ee the storm-but there's the lowe;
A fig for tempests, snaws, an' sleet,
That neither pelt us, freeze, nor weet.
The tender sentimental Miss,
May fancy that an' fancy this;
Sae Tammy, sentimental grown,
Affects the lingo o' the town.

Alake for birdies, sheep, an' lambs!
He says and soughs-but how he crams!
Grief's unco dry, the proverbs say,
An' hungry too, or Tam's no wae;
For fish, ham, eggs, short-bread, and bun,
Adown his craig promiscuous run,
Wi' hiney, jellies, marmalade,
On bread and butter richly laid.
Thus Tammy fares, and so do ithers,
Till wames are lead, and spirits feathers;
Syne Jean and Grace, with eydent care,
Arrange the shining crok'ry ware;
An' then the amusements o' the day
Rin on in mony a varied way.
Their needles some begin to thread;
If willing, vain th' attempt to read,
For here th' o'erjoy'd and souple younkers
Are at Kircuddoch on their hounkers-
A mirthfu' dance, for as they loup,
A push or pouk will gar them cowp;
Nay, aulder folks will laughing look,
An' push, or wink them when to pouk;
Though stiff, yet Tammy wi' them jumps
Och, how they skirl when ower he plumps!
Here birkie round the circle goes,
There catch the ten, or dominoes,
Amain the guesses pass about
How eager a' to find them out!
Here youth instils to beauty's ear
The answer which she's fain to hear;
But as the quiv'ring lips retire,
The dimpling cheek attracts them nigh'r,
'Tis touch'd, and by the touch taks fire.
Anither time the happy beau

To her th' unriddling word will owe;
This mutual confidence creates,
An' saftly, sweetly, agitates;
They closer steal their hands unite-
Ae chair grows theirs, an' a's delight.
Some pore ower puzzles-kittle thing-
To join the map, or clear the string,
Find out the word some letters make,
Or play at totum-priens the stake;
Raise flimsy castles wi' the cards-
The highest bun or cake rewards;
"Blind Jocky Harry" now elates,
Now" Hunt the whistle" mirth creates,
Or Jack's alive," an' then the fun
Redeeming forfeits lost an' won;
Condemn'd on yonder chair is Miss
To stand, till ransom'd by a kiss-
Sweet ransom, which I've leap'd to pay,
Transported, in youth's vivid day;
Ah! doom'd, some birkie, 'mid their
squeels,

Wi' blackit face to match the deil's,

An' then to kiss some aunt or uncle, Whase face is plough'd wi' mony a runkle.

'Twas thus the day ran scrieven aff,
Mid ploy an' frolic, joke an' laugh,
Until the hostess, wi' a smile,
Proposed that tales the rest sud wile,
That ilk sud tell, be't lang or short,
His story for the general sport,
An' aye resume them day by day,
Until the storm was pass'd away;
Wi' hearty glee the guests agreed,
An' took their various chairs wi' speed.
Just then the minister drapt in—
Nae foe to fun, although to sin-
Attended by a brace o' sons-
Ane train'd to books, and ane to guns-
A Soger this, a Student that—
A nice addition to the chat;

Wi' Dom'nie Dickson hard ahint-
Where'er there's splore he'll aye be in't ;
An' these approving, like the rest,
The maister thank'd his reverend guest,
An' prest the worthy wi' decorum
To lead and push about the jorum;
Na, na, quo' he, the midden's yours,
Craw crousely, an' we'll craw frae ours.
The maister bow'd, syne down he sat,
An' blithely thus began the chat.-
But first our company let me paint,
That you an' they may grow acquaint.
THE MAISTER.

The Maister was a man wha lived
Just thretty years, an' syne he wived;
His wife and farm his chief delight-
The farm by day, the wife by night;
Baith fertile proved, an', till'd wi' skill,
Bare crops o corn, an' bairns at will;
He thrash'd them baith, yet neither hated,
Thus chaff frae grain was separated;
Content increased, his children grew,
An' Heav'n ilk Sunday got its due.
Thus life advancing smooth an' clear,
Has brought him past his fiftieth year;
Upon his face guid-nature see,
Wi' humour lurking in the ee,
His form, though waning, yet betrays
The manly mark o' ither days.

THE MISTRESS.

The Mistress, see, still fou o' life-
A mother fond-a bustling wife,
Here, there, an' every where she's seen-
An Argus, though wi' fewer e'en;
O' stature short, an' person trim,
Unlike, yet liking, liked by him;
Enkindling ithers by the glee
That sparkles in her vivid ee;
By lively sallies, playfu' jokes,
Awaking mirth in doucer folks;
Yet still it's evident to a',

The gudeman's pleasure is her law.
External beauty fades--what then?

Hae worth an' sense nae charms for men?
Shall virtues o' the soul an' heart
Like stars at beauty's rise depart?
Alas! this beauty's aft a bow,
That gilds a cloud and storm below.

1822.1

Tales of the Daft-Days. No. I.

JEANIE AN' GRACE.

Behold their daughters, Jean an' Grace,
In virgin white, an' fair o' face,
Twin maidens, beautiful alike,
Though variously their beauties strike.
The youth o' Loudon toast the pair,
Uncertain which to deem most fair.
An archness plays on Grace's cheek,
Sae richly ripe, sae roundly sleek,
That still the check appears to be
The fruit o' some forbidden tree,
Whare paradise below it lies,
An' Love the tempter, lurking to surprise.
But Jeanie's charms, like eve, unroll
In silence on the pensive soul;
Rich jetty tresses veil a skin
As spotless as the soul within ;
A saft dark ee, just made to melt,
Betraying still the passion felt;
The kindling blushes on her cheeks,
Fortell th' emotion ere she speaks,
As skies the mornin ere it breaks;
O, fresh her form frae Nature's mould,
An' unalloy'd pure virgin gold.

TAMMY.

There's Tammy-Maister Tammas
yclept

By hinds, an' maids, an' folk, except
An auncient dame, wha canna learn
To ca' him aught but "bonnie bairn,"
Her daintie doo, her pet, her lammy,
Her winsome marrow, or her Tammy.
A shrewd queer shaver, fou o' tricks,
Although they've cost him routh o' licks.
Whan nine, the maids said, "feckless
chap ;"

At ten he loup'd into their lap;
An' at eleven tous'd their tap;
At twal they cried, "a spunkie chiel ;"
At thirteen," young mischievous de'il ;"
At fourteen, " queer auld-farrant crater,"
An' something else some seasons later.
At length, a winter o' the classes
Made Tam a deil amang the lasses;
Till now, inspired by course the second,
The ladies' beau he'd fain be reckon'd.
AULD GRANNY.

On this side o' the chimla lug,
Auld Granny's cosh wi' feet on rug;
In easy-chair, an' at her ease,
Rejoicing in the chat an' bleeze.
Now keeks she through her specs on a'
Wi' pawky looks-now knits awa'.
At ilka knee a bairnie stands,
Upon it rests its tiny hands.
E'en Baudron's purring at her feet,
Looks up like them, wi' aspect sweet,
Upon that faded furrow'd face,

Whare smiles to playfu' smiles gie chase,
Like ripples ower the simmer sea,
Whan sportive zephyrs ower it flee.

THE MINISTER.

Forenent her, at his ease, reclines
Their Pastor, pleased as whan he dines.
An ankle lolling on his knee,
He rubs the leg for vera glee.

603

Wi' grand respect to him she listens ;
At ilka joke her visage glistens;
While bairns, like mice, in corners keep
O'eraw'd, nor is there heard a cheep;
But kindly words, winks, wags, an' jokes,
Soon round him lure the little folks.
He deals them sweeties, pats their cheeks,
O! proud are a' o' a' he speaks.

A placid air o'erspreads his face,
Whare drollery unites wi' grace;
Benev'lence blent wi' pleasure see
In holy union in the ee.

An ample wig, weel curl'd, keeps snug
Frae winter's rudeness ilka lug.
Erect he walks, some paunch afore,
Beneath the burden o' threescore ;
For troth he livesna like a hermit,
To keep fra savoury things a permit,
To munch dry roots in rocky cell,
An' slake his thirst frae chilly well.
Though envious sectaries may rail,
He taks his glass, an' sups his kail;
Yet be it own'd, in moderation,
Befitting weel his holy station.

I think wi' him 'twas ne'er intended,
That man sud starve whan man can mend

it;

Or like a moaner, in a hammock,
Abjure his food wi' loathing stamach.
Nae grit religion, weel I wyte,
In rumblin' wi' an empty kite;
Whereas a weel-bless'd wame, I feel,
Creates baith thankfulness an' zeal.

THE STUDENT.

His son the student's rather squab,
But gifted greatly wi' the gab;
Auld wives already see afar
In him a guid an' guiding star;
A burnin' an' a shinin' light,
Which in its season will delight;
Whan he that burns sae brightly now,
Withdraws frae earth his sp'ritual lowe.
Already half way through the Ha',
They yearn until he's clear'd it a'.
What numbers to the kirk will yoke,
Whan first he comes to feed the flock;
As bairn, they kent him free an' frank
Wi' a'-nae matter what their rank-
His father's flock-God's children they
The maist approved wha best obey.
Thus was he early taught to scan
An' estimate his brither man ;
An' not by claes, or by his purse,
That aft his folly, this his curse.

Collegian now our spark appears
Mair serious than beseems his years-
Appears for glee is in his heart,
Aft bursting forth in spite o' art.
Hypocrisy perhaps you cry,
But name not this hypocrisy.
Hypocrisy demurely cants
About the virtues which it wants;
Or violates, while it prefers
Some hostile vice-thus wilful errs,
Insults high Heaven, mankind deceives
An' glories, trembles, yet not grieves.
But struggling levity to rein,
Whan unbecoming, an' to gain

Due self-possession by restraint,
Is virtuous, not a moral taint.
Airs giddy, volatile, an' gay,
May players suit, not them wha pray;
Nor need the face be sour's a slae.
The pleased composure o' content
We like to see wi' graveness blent.

At first, whan turn'd a young divine,
The youth by logic hoped to shine,
By wretched sophistry, which schools
Ance taught to embryo knaves and fools;
Which witlings wield to wage offence
'Gainst reas'ning, truth, an' common sense.
Puir dunces, wha conceive it wit
To frisk aside, an' pertly twit;
Wha toil to vex an' circumvent
Ignoble end o' argument.
Examine 'tis their paltry plan
To cloud the subject you would scan.
Proceed it straight becomes their aim
T'arrest you, scoff you, or defame.
Is't vanity or dulness dense
That goads, or brainless impotence
Which fires them, as wi' eunuch's spite,
To mar your rational delight;
T'exhaust you, fret you, and disgust
Wi' quirks, in which they put their trust,
Word-quibbling, when your meaning's
plain,

An' a' th' abortions o' a leaden brain?

THE WRITER.

A Writer's here,-as pure a wag
As ancient Haddington can brag;
The Maister's billie, en famille,
That is,-wi' wife an' bairns at's heel.
A pawkie loon, wi' oily cheek;
An ee just form'd to wink and keek;
As fou o' roguery as fun,

He laughs at jokes ere weel begun ;
Till drowsy prosers laugh again,
Ridic'lous grin by growing vain.
Like simple craw, which, flatter'd, thought
Its ilka croak a dulcet note,
Essay the mair to wax jocose,
But, dunce-like, only prove verbose;
Unconscious, that he's found in them,
An' not their jest, his fav'rite game.

HIS FAMILY.

O' portly size his Spouse appears."
How he my loves her an' my dears!
While she, benignly and sedate,
Unruffled gazes on her mate:
His jests an' waggery nae langer
Her features ruffle, or her anger;
But calm she sits amang the lave,
As if she mourn'd him in his grave.
Their son and daughter here behold,
He nineteen, and she eighteen old :
O' sylphlike form an' sprightly she;
O' steady mind an' comely he,
A clerk at Leith, an' doing weel,
Upon his front an honest seal;
While she unfaulds at boarding-school,
An' learns t'attract by rote and rule;
A buoyant-hearted merry ramp,
But wi' a heart o' nature's stamp.

THE CAPTAIN.

Beside her sits the Captain bold,
Sans scarlet, sash, or sword, or gold.
But still the hero's face declares
How little fae or fair he spares.
Some whisker-remnants an' mustaches,
Yet speak o' killing looks an' slashes;
A handsome face, a noble port,
Mak leddies spread a grand report:
In light dragoons he serv'd a cornet,
At Frenchmen fleeing like a hornet;
At Waterloo baith gied an' got,
An' by the peace was sent to pot.
The trav'ling name o' Captain gets,
An' lets his daddie pay his debts.

Behold, as by the fair he sits,
He hastes to exercise his wits:
Parades his airs,-now drills the ee
T'advance, retire, or seem to flee;
The wordy volley's now discharg'd,
Fix compliments! an' now she's charg'd;
These, pointed at the female heart,
Dislodge it, by the rules of art;
For, boldly charged, 'tis odds the wench
Reels, an' is conquer'd like the French.
Ah, pointed compliments, like steel,
Will sometimes mak e'en vet'rans reel !

Yes, maidens! own, adore his power!
He loves ye-ay, perhaps, an hour.
Sae lang, perhaps, will flatter'd pride
Retain at full affection's tide,
But hope nae mair-love ebbs awa';
It's thus wi' vain folks, an' the braw.
Unlike the steady Clerk is he,
Whase love is truth an' constancy.
In bunker snug wi' Jeanie placed,
He shares a pleasure few can taste.
Not his the aim to cut a dash
By vain, affected, heartless clash,
Indulging vanity an' pride,
By courting flatt'ry, not a bride;
T'exalt himsel' his only aim,
By means which honest minds disclaim.
No!-self is nought, she's a' in a'-
His hope, dominion, an' his law.

THE ACCOUNTANT.
The next we'll ettle to describe
Is baith a cyph'rer an' a scribe:
A shrewd Accountant, frae Auld Reekie,
O' haggies fond an' cockie-leekie,
Hotch-potch, an' broth fu' thick an' gusty,
Fat brose, to line his ribs fu' lusty;
O' rizzar'd haddows, fish in sauce,
Sheep's head, an' solans frae the Bass,
Black puddings, collops, cakes at will,
An' plump pandores, wi' Giles's yill.
Ilk year, a score o' times at least,
He stechs himsel' at strawb'ry feast;
Thrice ilka simmer hires a chaise,
To feed on Roslin's bowery braes;
Wi' frien's deserts the weary desk,
T' enjoy the wild romantic Esk.
Whate'er his fare, aye minding weel
To hound the whisky at its heel;
In biting drams, or sprightly toddy,
To course it gaily through the body.
Gude fare he likes, an' hence his kyte-
At least the feeding's got the wyte.

Though shouthers braid, an' brawny arm,
Declare it hasna done him harm;
While arch gay looks, shew it produces
Congenial humours, pleasant juices.
But power to Hymen ne'er was gi'en
To fash an' fret, an' keep him lean;
A bach'lor he, wha shrewdly said,
That man by wedlock is waylaid;
It loups upon him, down he's knock'd,
He wakes, is robb'd, an' for it's mock'd.
'Twas thus he jested-but a jest
Is not conviction's rightfu' test;
It only aims to turn aside
The just reproach it canna bide,
As scoffers at religion jeer,
Because religion blames them here;
As rogues laugh honesty to scorn,
Because its censures are a thorn;
As sensual men the moral jibe,
Because the moral loath the tribe:
In short, this jesting's but a masque
Employ'd when truth declines the task;
In league wi' wit t'outrival right
By gilding wrang wi' sallies bright.

THE DOMINIE.

The Dom'nie see, o' stature short, But then there's mind an' fancy for't; He likes the laugh, an' likes to raise it, He lo'es the jest, an' him that says it; Wi' Homer, Virgil, an' Joe Miller, Weel stored, but unco scant o' siller. A sticket preacher, as it's tauld, Ower harum skarum for the fauld. So prosers say, wha fancy rhime Some carnal or incarnate crime; That Nick, wi' vile poetic lay, Enticed the artless Eve away. Indeed, the Dom'nie pass'd the time For studying Calvin, in vain rhime; Till hunger cam, and wi' it sense, An' yok'd him to, to noun an' tense. Now arm'd wi' taws, he struts 'mang plough-boys;

Spares gentles whiles, but bastes the cowboys.

On holidays wi' farmers dines,
An' fares on Sundays wi' divines.

THE MIDSHIPMAN.

A spunkie youth, the beau o' Grace,
A midshipman, comes next in place;
Her cousin, fresh frae foreign seas,
Now turn'd adrift to starve at ease.
Already taught to scorn the pelf,
As heedless of it, as o' self;
As careless as the mornin' midge
That dies upon the e'en's sharp edge;
Sae wild an' tricky, yet sae warm,
There's in his pranks a nameless charm.-

THE MAN O' GRIEF.

And, last, there's ane wi' hollow cheeks,
Wha never laughs, an' seldom speaks.
Alake, on pleasures lang departed
He dwells for ay, half broken-hearted!
Then fortune smiled, an' round him threw
A brilliance dazzling to the view;

Then, blushing, to his bosom prest,
His Charlotte blest him, an' was blest.
Soon bairnies, rev'ling on his knee,
Craw'd forth their inartic'late glee;
When lo! misfortune on him fell,
Now puir, he sighs na for himsel.
His wife, his weanies, tine him sleep,
He canna eat, he canna weep.
Their prospects fled, forever fled,
Nae hame remaining-no, no bread.
To toil untaught to beg ashamed—
By poor men pitied-rich disclaim'd.
In vain his Charlotte strives to smile,
His bairnies play an' prate the while;
The sight but maks him sad an' sadder,
An' thought but drives him mad an' mad-
der;

The mair she smiles, the mair he mourns,
An' mair wi' love an' frenzy burns;
For 'neath the smile the hectic see
Announce the fate she canna flee;
Thus struggling, struggling to be gay,
She melts apace in pale decay,
Then died and wrench'd his heart away.
An infant son an' daughter left-
Her blest her best endearing gift-
Like stars to gild the gloom o' life,
That tracks the setting o' a faithfu' wife.
He lived for them-his remnant joy
Was wrapt around his girl and boy.
Ah! death, too, nipt their budding bloom,
An' mark'd them early for the tomb.
The wee things hing their drooping head,
Breathe fast,-look wae,-alake! they're
dead.

In vain, in vain, he dews their bier;
Ah! what avails the groan an' tear!
In vain to foreign lands he flees
The victim o' the heart's disease ;-
Now hame he's come, in aged grief,
Mid youthfu' scenes to seek relief;
Whare early life flew jocund by,
Without a care-without a sigh;
Whare Charlotte stray'd all loveliness,
All beauty bloom, an' artlessness;
To muse her mem'ry, ower the grave
Whare to her dust his bairns he gave;
Whare soon he hopes to lay him down
In silence, an' rejoin his own;
Escape the broken frame an' heart
Which shroud a grief life ne'er can part.

Thus, having painted young an' auld,
Their tales in order we'll unfauld;
According as the lots they fell,
The tales were tauld, and so we'll tell.
Your favour, gentle reader, give,
O list the poet-bid him live;
Though weakly, timidly, he sing
Weak yet, an' young upon the wing,
He looks to you for fav'ring ear,
Else must he fail to charm or cheer ;-
O list his lay, its source is pure,
The maid may read, the good endure.
No fame he seeks in vicious lays,
The canker's in immoral bays,
But glory in a virtuous praise.

C. B.

« PrécédentContinuer »