They smeekit, they reek it,
Like to ane smouldering kiln;
They peghit, they sighit,
Each other's blood to spill,
They trampit, they stampit,
Like animals run wud;
They flarit, they glarit,
With eyne yred with bluid.
At length, to end the bluidy deeds,
They raised their falchions keen,
And down upon each other's heads
They clove them to the chin.
But 'tis not true, as I've heard tell,
And I do not believe
That when these doughty lovers fell,
One laughed within her sleeve.
But I have also heard it said,
And I again it say,
And I would like to see the head
With tongue in't to say nay—
That as these pates lay on the ground
(As there they yet may lie),
One eye in each cloved head was found
Fixed on that chamber high.
XX.
THE BALLAD OF GOLDEN COUNSEL.
Come Mary and Martha, Jeanie and Jenny,
And sit down and listen, baith ane and a',
To me, wha may very weel be your grannie,
And aiblins may ken ae thing or twa.
This world is no so sweet and so bonnie
As you in your young hearts may suppose;
There's aloes in it as weel as honey,
And aye some prickles on ilka rose.
Young lasses I think are something like fillies
Let out in a field to idle and eat,
To graze by the gowans and drink by the willows,
And never to dream of a bridle a bit.
It's no what ye eat, it's no what you drink, dears,
It's no your bonnets, or ribbons, or skirts,
The trinkets ye wear, or the siller ye clink, dears—
There's something, I wean, far nearer your hearts.
Your thoughts are mair of him you will marry,
What the colour may be of his hair,
Whether aye cheery, or sometimes chary,
What his complexion, or dark or fair.