Jenny. But what if some young giglet on the green,
With dimpled cheeks, and twa bewitching een,
Should gar your Patie think his half-worn Meg,
And her kenn'd kisses, hardly worth a feg?
Peggy. Nae mair of that:—dear Jenny, to be free,
There's some men constanter in love than we:
Nor is the ferly great, when Nature kind
Has blest them with solidity of mind;
They'll reason calmly, and with kindness smile,
When our short passions wad our peace beguile:
Sae, whensoe'er they slight their maiks[26]at hame,
'Tis ten to ane their wives are maist to blame.
Then I'll employ with pleasure a' my art
To keep him cheerfu', and secure his heart.
At even, when he comes weary frae the hill,
I'll have a' things made ready to his will:
In winter, when he toils through wind and rain,
A bleezing ingle, and a clean hearth-stane:
And soon as he flings by his plaid and staff,
The seething-pot's be ready to take aff;
Clean hag-abag[27] I'll spread upon his board,
And serve him with the best we can afford:
Good-humour and white bigonets[28] shall be
Guards to my face, to keep his love for me.
Jenny. A dish of married love right soon grows cauld, And dozins[29] down to nane, as fowk grow auld.
Peggy. But we'll grow auld together, and ne'er find
The loss of youth, when love grows on the mind.
Bairns and their bairns make sure a firmer tie,
Than aught in love the like of us can spy.
See yon twa elms that grow up side by side,
Suppose them some years syne bridegroom and bride;
Nearer and nearer ilka year they've pressed,
Till wide their spreading branches are increased,
And in their mixture now are fully blessed:
This shields the other frae the eastlin' blast;
That in return defends it frae the wast.
Sic as stand single, (a state sae liked by you,)
Beneath ilk storm frae every airt[30] maun bow.
Jenny. I've done,—I yield, dear lassie; I maun yield,
Your better sense has fairly won the field.
With the assistance of a little fae
Lies dern'd within my breast this mony a day.
Peggy. Alake, poor pris'ner!—Jenny, that's no fair,
That ye'll no let the wee thing take the air:
Haste, let him out; we'll tent as well's we can,
Gif he be Bauldy's, or poor Roger's man.
Jenny. Anither time's as good; for see the sun
Is right far up, and we're not yet begun
To freath the graith: if canker'd Madge, our aunt,
Come up the burn, she'll gie's a wicked rant;
But when we've done, I'll tell you a' my mind;
For this seems true—nae lass can be unkind.
[Exeunt.
[1] Howm: holm. [2] Claes: clothes. [3] 'Lift:' sky. [4] 'Linn:' a waterfall. [5] 'Blate:' bashful. [6] 'Pensylie:' sprucely. [7] 'A-jee:' to one side. [8] 'Owrelay:' cravat. [9] 'Dorty:' pettish. [10] 'Dawted wean:' spoiled child. [11] 'Tarrows at its meat:' refuses its food. [12] 'Feckless:' silly. [13] 'Orp:' fret. [14] 'Glowers:' stares. [15] 'Barlichoods:' cross-moods. [16] 'Skaith:' harm. [17] 'Feil:' many. [18] 'Fasheous:' troublesome. [19] 'Scads itself wi' brue:' scalds itself with broth. [20] 'Deil gaes o'er John Wabster:' all goes wrong. [21] 'Toom:' empty. [22] 'Speat:' land-flood. [23] 'A dyvour:' bankrupt. [24] 'Mows:' jest. [25] 'Rowth:' plenty. [26] 'Maiks:' mates. [27] 'Hag-abag:' huckaback. [28] 'White bigonets:' linen caps or coifs. [29] 'Dozins:' dwindles. [30] 'Airt:' quarter.
We come now to another cluster of minor poets,—such as Robert Dodsley, who rose, partly through Pope's influence, from a footman to be a respectable bookseller, and who, by the verses entitled 'The Parting Kiss,'—