The Poems of Robert Fergusson :: :: University of Virginia Library

Haste, Epps, quo' John, an' bring my gez,
Take tent ye dinna't spulzie:
Last night the barber ga't a friz,
An' straikit it wi' ulzie.
Hae done your paritch lassie Liz,
Gi'e me my sark an' gravat;
I'se be as braw's the Deacon is
Whan he taks Affidavit
O' Faith the day.

III

Whar's Johnny gaun, cries neebor Bess,
That he's sae gayly bodin
Wi' new kam'd wig, weel syndet face,
Silk hose, for hamely hodin?
“Our Johny's nae sma' drink you'll guess,
“He's trig as ony muir-cock,
“An' forth to mak a Deacon, lass;
“He downa speak to poor fock
Like us the day.”

187

IV

The coat ben-by i' the kist-nook,
That's been this towmonth swarmin,
Is brought yence mair thereout to look,
To fleg awa the vermin:
Menzies o' Moths an' Flaes are shook,
An' i' the floor they howder,
Till in a birn beneath the crook
They're singit wi' a scowder
To death that day.

V

The canty cobler quats his sta',
His rozet an' his lingans;
His buik has dree'd a sair, sair fa'
Frae meals o' bread an' ingans:
Now he's a pow o' wit an' law,
An' taunts at soals an' heels;
To Walker's he can rin awa,
There whang his creams an' jeels
Wi' life that day.

VI

The lads in order tak their seat,
(The de'il may claw the clungest)
They stegh an' connach sae the meat,
Their teeth mak mair than tongue haste:
Their claes sae cleanly dight an' feat,
An' eke their craw-black beavers,
Like masters mows hae found the gate
To tassels teugh wi' slavers
Fu' lang that day.

188

VII

The dinner done, for brandy strang
They cry, to weet their thrapple,
To gar the stamack bide the bang,
Nor wi' its laden grapple.
The grace is said—its no o'er lang;
The claret reams in bells;
Quod Deacon let the toast round gang,
“Come, here's our Noble sel's
Weel met the day.”

VIII

Weels me o' drink, quo' cooper Will,
My barrel has been geyz'd ay,
An' has na gotten sic a fill
Sin fu' on handsel-Teysday:
But makes-na, now it's got a sweel,
Ae gird I shanna cast lad,
Or else I wish the horned de'el
May Will wi' kittle cast dad
To h---ll the day.

IX

The Magistrates fu' wyly are,
Their lamps are gayly blinking,
But they might as leive burn elsewhere,
Whan fock's blind fu' wi' drinking.
Our Deacon wadna ca' a chair,
The foul ane durst him na-say;
He took shanks-naig, but fient may care,
He arselins kiss'd the cawsey
Wi' bir that night.

189

X

Weel loes me o' you, souter Jock,
For tricks ye buit be trying,
Whan greapin for his ain bed-stock,
He fa's whare Will's wife's lying,
Will coming hame wi' ither fock,
He saw Jock there before him;
Wi' Master Laiglen, like a brock
He did wi' stink maist smore him
Fu' strang that night.

XI

Then wi' a' souple leathern whang
He gart them fidge and girn ay,
“Faith, Chiel, ye's no for naething gang
“Gin ye man reel my pirny.”
Syne wi' a muckle alshin lang
He brodit Maggie's hurdies;
An' 'cause he thought her i' the wrang,
There pass'd nae bonny wordies
'Mang them that night.

XII

Now, had some laird his lady fand
In sic unseemly courses,
It might hae loos'd the haly band,
Wi' law-suits an' Divorces:
But the niest day they a' shook hands,
And ilka crack did sowder,
While Megg for drink her apron pawns,
For a' the gude-man cow'd her
Whan fu' last night.

190

XIII

Glowr round the cawsey, up an' down,
What mobbing and what plotting!
Here politicians bribe a loun
Against his saul for voting.
The gowd that inlakes half a crown
Thir blades lug out to try them,
They pouch the gowd, nor fash the town
For weights an' scales to weigh them
Exact that day.

XIV

Then Deacons at the counsel stent
To get themsel's presentit:
For towmonths twa their saul is lent,
For the town's gude indentit:
Lang's their debating thereanent;
About Protests they're bauthrin,
While Sandy Fife, to mak content,
On Bells plays Clout the caudron
To them that day.

XV

Ye lowns that troke in doctor's stuff,
You'll now hae unco slaisters;
Whan windy blaws their Stamacks puff,
They'll need baith pills an' plaisters;
For tho' ev'now they look right bluff,
Sic drinks, 'ere Hillocks meet,
Will hap some Deacons in a truff,
Inrow'd in the lang leet
O' death yon night.