"They happit aboot her like craws on a rig,
A' fechtin', or fleechin', or crackin' fell big;
'Gae 'wa', sirs, to Freuchie, for brawly it's seen
It's siller yer wooin',' quo Tipperty's Jean.
'Sin' auld uncle Davie cam' back owre the sea,
An' left sic a hantle o' siller to me,
I'm deaved wi' yer wooin' frae mornin' till e'en.
The deil tak sic wooers,' quo Tipperty's Jean.
"'Oh, wae on the siller! it's twined me an' Johnnie.
Though scanty o' wealth, yet he's kindly an' bonnie
Gin he wud but seek me this very gude e'en,
He'd no tine his errand,' quo Tipperty's Jean.
Peer Johnnie o'erheard her, his heart like to brak,
He cuist his arms roon' her an' gied her a smack.
'Wull ye be my dawtie?' she blinkit fu' keen;
'Yer welcome to tak' me,' quo Tipperty's Jean.
"An' there was a waddin'! sic vivers an' drinks,
Sic fiddlin' an' pipin', sic dancin' an' jinks;
The haggis e'en hotched to the piper it's lane;
'It's a' weel that ends weel,' quo Tipperty's Jean.
The minister danced i' the barn wi' the bride;
The elders cried 'Fiddlers, play up Delvin Side;'
dominie sang like a mavis at e'en;
'Here's a health to quid lasses,' like Tipperty's Jean."
Thus ance begun, sang followed sang a' roun'—
The Cunnin' Clerk o' Colliston, The Tailor Loon,
Auld Scour Abeen, an' mony mair as fell—
Luckie brings the drucken bite hersel'—
Saut beef an' breid (she was a sleekit bodie)
To moyen ben anither bowl o' toddy;
Anither, an' anither yet, 'til a' war' glorious,
Some greetin'-fow, an' ithers clean uproarious.
To tak' the gate at lang an' last they're fain,
"Sorry to pairt, happy to meet again."
Though Inglis kent a bull's fit frae a B,
He had mair than a wee drap in his ee;
For length o' road he caredna half a bodle,
The breadth o't sairly fash'd his drummel'd nodle.
"It's dreich wark this," quo he; "I kenna, haith,
Gin I'd best gang or rin—I'se try them baith.
I wish I war' weel hame! na, what excuse
Can I mak' oot for haudin' sic a boose?
Weel was I warnised ere I cam' frae hame;
I canna say ae word—it was a shame—
by my troth I sweer, if I get o'er
This dirdum richt, I'll ne'er haud sic a splore."
Alas! alas! what witchery constrains
Man's pleasures thus, to breed such racking pains?
'Tis retribution just: vice is the source
Of dread despair and harrowing remorse;
But, like the star that gems the darkest night,
Returning virtue brings back glorious light.
While Inglis, thus opprest wi' drink an' care,
Pyowtered alang, an' browdenin' unco sair
On's Tibbie dear,—whiles thinkin' upo' witches
That haunt the Collieburn—unholy wretches!—
His puir Guidwife set doun the evenin' meal,
An', by the fire, sat birrin' at her wheel.
The chaumer had a cozy look, an' clean;[D]
For weel she likit it sud aye be seen.
While weary time beat on wi' measured speed,
Fu' mony a glance toward the knock she gied:
"I wunner oor Guidman's nae frae the fair;
He's past his ord'nar time four hoors an' mair.
See, Betty, lass! the nicht is growin' cauld,
Fesh twa-r-three peats to mak' the fire mair bauld;
An' bring me tidin's o' the kin' o' nicht—
Whether it's wet or dry, or mirk or licht."
"A bonnie nicht it is on hill an' howe,
The moon's just glintin' o'er the Castle knowe."
"Weel, lass, I'm glad o' that," her mistress cried;
An' to her task her eident hand applied.
"An' now gae to your bed, there's nocht to hinner—
Ye're sleepy like—aweel, I dinna wunner;
But see ye're up wi' morn's first glint o' grey,
For weel ye ken it is oor kirnin' day."
Inglis, wi' put an' row, still hauds the gait,
Fairies an' witches jumblin' in his pate,
Gain heels o'er head, like bumbees in a byke,
Sae doun he leans, sair dung, upon a dyke;
Wearied wi' travel, sair he tries to think,—
But that's clean o'er him, he's sae dazed wi' drink.
"I wish I war' but at oor plantin' beltie,
Or had atween my legs oor wee bit sheltie!"
Scarce had the words wun o'er his grievin' lips,
Whan, raxin' oot his han's, a shelt he grips.
"Na! sic a chance!" he cries; syne, in a crack,
He warstles up, an' on the creatur's back,
Grips fast the mane, whan, wi' an eldritch squeel,
Forrit it flees as fast as'ts legs could speel.
But nae alane; for, like birds i' the flichtir,
Rade roun' an' roun', wi' muckle mirth an' lauchter,
A fairy band; an', as they rade, they sang,
While siller bells upo' their bridles rang.
On ilka side o' Inglis rade a knicht
In Lincoln-green, wi' armour burnished bricht;
Like stars intil a frosty nicht, the sheen
Blinkit like siller in his dazzlet een.
Onward they rade—the knichts cried, "Forward!" still—
Till bye Ha'moss, syne up the Castlehill
At fire-flaucht speed, till on the very tap
They drew their reins an' aff their horses lap.
But sic a sicht as met puir Inglis een
Was ne'er by mortal in this wide warld seen;
The hillside, openin' oot, exposed to view
Yetts made o' silver, hung on sapphires blue.
Harpers stood roun'; an', as they harped, they sung
Lieds sweetly wild, but in some unco tongue;
An' wee, wee ladies fair beyond compare,
An' wee, wee lords in gorgeous garbs war' there.
One courteous knight, advancing from them all,
Said, "Welcome, Inglis, to our Fairy Hall!
Come let us join the rest and see the sport,
And pay our duty to the Queen at court
Keep close by me until we pass yon den,—
There monsters entrance bar to mortal men,—
And take this ring, 'twill keep thee safe from all
Can hurt or harm within our Fairy Hall.
I but repay a debt I owe to thee
For leaving still unploughed upon the lea
That elfin ring, where oft, in days of yore,
My forebears danced, before they left this shore;
And other kindly things that I and mine
Have got from you and yours in 'auld langsyne.'
While here, ne'er eat nor drink; not for your life!
For, if ye do, ye'll ne'er see your Goodwife."
Forward they passed, and through the entrance hall,
Its roof upborne by pillars magical;
A line of silver columns flashing bright,
And flinging back the toying gleams of light;
No sun, no moon shone in the azure sky,
Yet there was light o'er all, afar and nigh,
Flowing from sources hid far, far beyond,
Like springs outgushing streams of diamond.
And there were gentle hills; and there above,
Crowning their tops, was many a lovely grove
Waving its leaves and branches to and fro,
O'er emerald moss that clustering lay below.
And there were valleys carpeted with flowers;
There sweet retreats and honeysuckled bowers;
And lakes with wavelets playing too and fro,
Waking soft music in their rippling flow.
And on their surface many a tiny sail—
Gently impelled by Zephyr's mildest gale—
Parting the elfin billows with a sheen
Like opals set upon an emerald-green.
And crimson corals lined the peaceful shore,
Disturbed by no wild surge's angry roar;
Close to the brink was many an elfin home—
Bow'rs built of amber—bathed in silver foam.
And there a cataract, in elfin glee,
Danced music, splashing to the elfin sea;
Now gently stealing, now in bursts, along
The tones came warbling low or loud in song.
'Twas sweet to see the waters leaping so,
Like bairns at play, that ne'er knew sin or woe.
Upon a gentle sward that lay beyond,
High on a solid rock of diamond,
Was placed a throne of yellow burnished gold
Of rarest work the elfin art could mould;
Its steps were gemmed with chrysolite and pearl,
Its canopy with topazes and beryl;
And on it sat the Queen, as spotless fair
As new fallen snow, pure as a child of air.
Upon her brow the richly jewelled wreath
Could add no beauty to the hair beneath;
Those queenly tresses were of raven hue,
And sparkled bright with crystal-dropping dew;
While music, like a flood, broke round the throne
Whereon she sat like morning star alone,
Welcoming right royally each coming guest
From far or near, from south, north, east, or west.
To cheer the guests with music and with song,
With harp and pipe, the elfin minstrels throng.
The harpers sat—waiting the royal glance.
That, smiling given, the bardic chiefs advance
ping the chords—the wires responsive rung—
And in harmonious concert thus they sung:—