At farmers' faugh lairds still may laugh,
An' the tinker sing as he clouts the pan;
But what will cheer my bairnie dear
When he kens his father's a witless man?
Bought by a ring, puir silly thing,
An' bent by the wind o' my kinsfolk's breath,
Wha would gang braw, if that were 't a'?—
O! a loveless life it is waur than death!
Will land or hoose seem good excuse
For a mither married where love was nane?
It's hard for me, this weird to dree,
But it's waur that I canna bear't my lane.
My puir wee bairn, ye'll live to learn
How heavy the burden ye hae to bear.
What's gold or name when born to shame,
An' o' sic a twasome to be the heir?
THE DEIL AN' THE DEEVILOCK
The muckle Deil lay at the mirk pit mou',
An' hard at his heel lay a Deevilock;
While the brimstane reek wi' an upward spew
Swirled roon' baith the Deil an' the Deevilock
As their tails like flails were fannin' the air,
Said the big ane then to the wee ane there:
"In colour an' scouk we are sib as sins,
Wi' a half ell mair we would pass for twins."
("A wee toad spits," quo' the Deevilock.)
"Since the warl' was made"—'twas the auld Deil spak'—
("That's a far cry noo," quo' the Deevilock.)
"I hae wandered far but I've aye come back."
("To a het hame too," quo' the Deevilock.)
"Since first I set oot wi' a teem new creel,
Haena mortals changed an' their ways as weel!
For then I was thin an' had wark enew,
Noo I'm fat as creesh, an' the furnace fu'."
("Improve the draught," quo' the Deevilock.)
"Then aften I swore at the cloven hoof,"
("It's gey ill to shee," quo' the Deevilock.)
"An' the horns an' tail scared mony a coof."
("Faith they hamper me," quo' the Deevilock.)
"Gin' I taul' ye noo ye would scarce believe
The bother I had wi' that besom Eve;
But forbid her noo, ye would find, I ween,
She would eat the crap while it yet was green."
("Syne lift the tree," quo' the Deevilock.)
"In the early days I would aften fail,"
("Syne sae lood God leuch," quo' the Deevilock.)
"To wile them awa' to my henchman Baal."
("Wasna auld Job teuch?" quo' the Deevilock.)
"The brawest an' best o' my weel waled flock
Struggled lang an' sair wi' a reeshlin' pock;
I nickit him tho', at the hinder-end,
Wi' the thirty croons that he couldna spend.
("He'd lots o' heirs," quo' the Deevilock.)
"But willin' an' keen they come half roads noo,"
("Saul! in fair big croods," quo' the Deevilock.)
"An' the backward anes are baith far an' few."
("Curse your platitudes," quo' the Deevilock.)
"They crack roon' the fire, an' are nae mair blate
Than a bonnet laird wi' a new estate;
Their hands playin' smack on their birslin' shins
As they lauch an' brag o' their former sins."
("Hame 's aye hame-like," quo' the Deevilock.)
"An' you, ye're the warst o' my horny crew";
("I'm sorry I spak'," quo' the Deevilock.)
"Nae an' antrin jot leavin' me to do."
("An' I aye blush black," quo' the Deevilock.)
"For a hungry chiel ye've an open gate,
Help the elder pooch fae his ain kirk plate;
Nae a leein' man nor a faithless dame
But is coontin' kin, when they hear your name."
("I'm 'Canny-chance,'" quo' the Deevilock.)
"Wi' the ministers ye are mair than thrang,"
("Took a Sunday twice," quo' the Deevilock.)
"Aye giein' them texts to support a wrang."
("Guid halesome advice," quo' the Deevilock.)
"When in Auchterless ye suggest the prayer—
'Show my duty, Lord, lies in Auchtermair';
An' when stipens shrink wi' the fa' in fiars,
Siccan sizzons ban as ye mix your tears."
("We're a' ae claith," quo' the Deevilock.)
"Ye hae even dealt amo' stocks an' shares,"
("Selled some to arrive," quo' the Deevilock.)
"An' made likely men into millionaires."
("Hoot, our bairns maun thrive," quo' the Deevilock.)
"Ye startit a war, an' to raise a loan
Showed a spen'thrift king how to wadset 's throne;
An' raikit them in fae the bench an' cell,
Till the Fact'ry Act is in bits in Hell."
("Nae half-time there," quo' the Deevilock.)
"Nae a pleasant thing hae ye left aneth,"
("There 's the company," quo' the Deevilock.)
"An' a weary Deil canna look for death."
("Here 's lang life to me," quo' the Deevilock.)
"It's Hell to hae naething to do but sit
An' curse at the creak o' the birlin' spit;
I'm red, red wi' rust, save the jinglin' keys,
I'd swap wi' a god wha is fond o' ease."
("Ha! ha!—ha! ha!" quo' the Deevilock.)
A BACKCAST
How lanely the nichts by the auld ingle cheek,
Ohone, but a mither is nae like a wife,
Regret on the creepie sits watchin' the reek,
An' whaur are the dainties to comfort my life?
The backcast is dreary o'er years that are spent,
The rowan is withered, an' leafless the gean,
They're gane noo for ever, but, eh! had I kent,
Grim winter is reignin' where summer was queen
I dammed for the lade that had never a wheel,
The chickens were bonnie but noo they're awa',
The castles I biggit gie other folk biel'.
O wae tak' the gled that gaed aff wi' them a'.
A lassie proved fickle, unfaithfu' a frien',
Tho' soorocks an' tansies grow green in the ha',
An' a mither is a' I hae left o' my ain,
The ivy sae kindly aye covers the wa'.
THE LAWIN'
The way o' transgressors is hard;
There cometh a day
The Wicked will get their reward,
The Devil his pay.
Cauld Death is the wages o' Sin:
Stents finished, we rue:
The thread, tho' sae pleasant to spin,
Has connached the woo'.
As soon as we've emptied the caup
The lawin's to clear;
Tho' thistles be only the crap
The sawer maun shear.
Sae let us consider it weel
Ere joinin' the fling,
The dancer when tired o' the reel
Maun pay for the spring.
Then coont on the Lawin', the Lawin', the Lawin',
Keep mind o' the Lawin', forget na the score;
We pay what we're awin', we're awin', we're awin',
We pay a' we're awin' when Death's at the door.
THE GYPSY
O wasna he bauld for a tinker loon,—
Sim leant on his rake an' swore—
To fling a' his wallets an' bawd-skins doon,
An' rap at the castle door.
Wi' my Lord awa' at the Corbie's linn
There was man nor dog at hame,
Save a toothless bitch 'at was auld an' blin',
An' the gard'ner auld an' lame.
When my Lady heard she cam' doon the stair,
An' ben thro' the antlered ha',
Whaur, bonnet in hand, stood the gypsy there
As raggit as she was braw.
"O I hinna kettles to clout," she said,
"An' my spoons an' stoups are hale,
But gin ye gang roon' to the kitchen maid
She'll gie ye a waucht o' ale."
"It's never the way o' the gentry, na,
When visitin' 'mang their frien's,
To drink wi' the maids in the servants' ha'
Or speak about stoups an' speens.
"An' we are mair sib than ye think," quo' he,
"For his Lordship's father's mine;
Tho' the second wife was o' high degree,
His first was a gypsy queyn.
"An' the younger son got the lands an' a',
But the gypsies bettered me;
He is only laird o' a fairm or twa,
I'm king o' the covin-tree.
"Sae I am guid-brither to you, my lass,
An' head o' the auncient name;
An' it wouldna be richt for me to pass
Withoot cryin' in by hame."
O a hantle then did the twasome say,
An' muckle passed them between;
But at last 'twas "Sister, a fair good day,"
"Guid-brither, a fair good e'en."
"My Lord comes hame fae the hunttn' soon,
An' he's big, weel-faured, an' braw,
But he isna a man like the tinker loon,
Wi' wallets an' rags an' a'."
"Gin she were as free as the maids I ken,
Dancin' bar'fit on the green;
As I am the King o' the gypsy men,
This nicht she would be my Queen."
But the bluid ran thin in the gard'ner Sim,
He'd heard o' the cairds afore,
An' the auld romance had nae charms for him,
He lockit the hen-hoose door.
"BYDAND"