Hail, bonny Tyames! weel smon thy waves!
A world might flourish bi' them—
And, faiks, they weel deserve the praise
That a' the world gies ti them.
O lang may commerce spread her stores,
Full on thy bosom dinnin'—
Weel worthy thou to lave the shores
O' sic a town as Lunnin.
Seun Black-Wall Point we left astern,
Far ken'd in dismal story—
And Greenwich Towers we now discern,
Au'd England's pride and glory.
Sure Nature's sel inspir'd my staves,
For I began a crunnin',
And blair'd, 'Britannia rule the waves!'
As by we sail'd for Lunnin.
Fornenst the Tower, we made a click,
Where traitors gat their fairins',
And where they say that hallion Dick
Yence scumfish'd two wee bairins.
Hitch, step, and loup, I sprang ashore.
My heart reet full o' funnin'—
And seun forgat the ocean's war,
Amang the joys o' Lunnin.
THE NEWCASSEL PROPS.
Oh, waes me, for wor canny toon,
It canna stand it lang—
The props are tumbling one by one,
The beeldin seun mun gan;
For Deeth o' late has no been blate,
But sent some jovial souls a joggin:
Aw niver griev'd for Jackey Tate,
Nor even little Airchy Loggan.
But when maw lugs was 'lectrified
Wiv Judy Downey's deeth,
Alang wi' Heufy Scott aw cried,
Till byeth was out o' breeth;
For greet and sma', fishwives and a'
Luik'd up tiv her wi' veneration—
If Judy's in the Courts above,
Then for Au'd Nick there'll be nae 'cation.
Next Captain Starkey teuk his stick,
And myed his final bow;
Aw wonder if he's scribblin yet,
Or what he's efter now;
Or if he's drinking gills o' yell,
Or axing pennies to buy bakky—
If not allow'd where Starkey's gyen,
Aw'm sure that he'll be quite unhappy.
Jack Coxon iv a trot went off,
One morning very seun—
Cull Billy said, he'd better stop,
But Deeth cried, Jackey, come!
Oh! few like him could lift their heel,
Or tell what halls were in the county:
Like mony a proud, black-coated chiel',
Jack liv'd upon the parish bounty.
But cheer up, lads, and dinna droop,
Blind Willy's to the fore,
The blythest iv the motley groop,
And fairly worth the score:
O weel aw like to hear him sing,
'Bout au'd Sir Mat. and Dr. Brummel—
If he but lives to see the King,
There's nyen o' Willy's friends need grummel.