The Poems of Robert Fergusson Edited by Matthew P. McDiarmid |
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Elegy on John Hogg, late Porter to
the University of St Andrews.
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 | The Poems of Robert Fergusson |  |
Elegy on John Hogg, late Porter to the University of St Andrews.
Death, what's ado? the de'il be licket,
Or wi' your stang, you ne'er had pricket,
Or our auld alma mater tricket
O' poor John Hogg,
And trail'd him ben thro' your mark wicket
As dead's a log.
Or wi' your stang, you ne'er had pricket,
Or our auld alma mater tricket
O' poor John Hogg,
And trail'd him ben thro' your mark wicket
As dead's a log.
Now ilka glaikit scholar lown
May dander wae wi' duddy gown;
Kate Kennedy to dowy crune
May mourn and clink,
And steeples o' Saint Andrew's town
To yird may sink.
May dander wae wi' duddy gown;
Kate Kennedy to dowy crune
May mourn and clink,
And steeples o' Saint Andrew's town
To yird may sink.
192
Sin' Pauly Tam, wi' canker'd snout,
First held the students in about
To wear their claes as black as soot,
They ne'er had reason,
Till death John's haffit ga'e a clout
Sae out o' season.
First held the students in about
To wear their claes as black as soot,
They ne'er had reason,
Till death John's haffit ga'e a clout
Sae out o' season.
Whan regents met at common schools,
He taught auld Tam to hale the dules,
And eidant to row right the bowls
Like ony emmack;
He kept us a' within the rules
Strict academic.
He taught auld Tam to hale the dules,
And eidant to row right the bowls
Like ony emmack;
He kept us a' within the rules
Strict academic.
Heh! wha will tell the students now
To meet the Pauly cheek for chow,
Whan he, like frightsome wirrikow,
Had wont to rail,
And set our stamacks in a low,
Or we turn'd tail.
To meet the Pauly cheek for chow,
Whan he, like frightsome wirrikow,
Had wont to rail,
And set our stamacks in a low,
Or we turn'd tail.
Ah, Johnny! aften did I grumble
Frae cozy bed fu' ear' to tumble;
Whan art and part I'd been in some ill,
Troth I was sweer,
His words they brodit like a wumill
Frae ear to ear.
Frae cozy bed fu' ear' to tumble;
Whan art and part I'd been in some ill,
Troth I was sweer,
His words they brodit like a wumill
Frae ear to ear.
Whan I had been fu' laith to rise,
John than begude to moralize:
“The tither nap, the sluggard cries,
“And turns him round;
“Sae spake auld Solomon the wise
“Divine profound!”
John than begude to moralize:
“The tither nap, the sluggard cries,
“And turns him round;
“Sae spake auld Solomon the wise
“Divine profound!”
193
Nae dominie, or wise mess John,
Was better lear'd in Solomon;
He cited proverbs one by one
Ilk vice to tame;
He gar'd ilk sinner sigh an' groan,
And fear hell's flame.
Was better lear'd in Solomon;
He cited proverbs one by one
Ilk vice to tame;
He gar'd ilk sinner sigh an' groan,
And fear hell's flame.
“I hae nae meikle skill, quo' he,
“In what you ca' philosophy;
“It tells that baith the earth and sea
“Rin round about;
“Either the Bible tells a lie,
“Or you're a' out.
“In what you ca' philosophy;
“It tells that baith the earth and sea
“Rin round about;
“Either the Bible tells a lie,
“Or you're a' out.
“Its i' the psalms o' David writ,
“That this wide warld ne'er shou'd flit,
“But on the waters coshly sit
“Fu' steeve and lasting;
“An' was na he a head o' wit
“At sic contesting!”
“That this wide warld ne'er shou'd flit,
“But on the waters coshly sit
“Fu' steeve and lasting;
“An' was na he a head o' wit
“At sic contesting!”
On einings cauld wi' glee we'd trudge
To heat our shins in Johnny's lodge;
The de'il ane thought his bum to budge
Wi' siller on us:
To claw het pints we'd never grudge
O' molationis.
To heat our shins in Johnny's lodge;
The de'il ane thought his bum to budge
Wi' siller on us:
To claw het pints we'd never grudge
O' molationis.
Say ye, red gowns! that aften here
Hae toasted bakes to Kattie's beer,
Gin 'ere thir days hae had their peer,
Sae blyth, sae daft;
You'll ne'er again in life's career
Sit ha'f sae saft.
Hae toasted bakes to Kattie's beer,
Gin 'ere thir days hae had their peer,
Sae blyth, sae daft;
You'll ne'er again in life's career
Sit ha'f sae saft.
194
Wi' haffit locks, sae smooth and sleek,
John look'd like ony antient Greek;
He was a Nazarene a' the week,
And doughtna tell out
A bawbee Scots to straik his cheek
Till Sunday fell out.
John look'd like ony antient Greek;
He was a Nazarene a' the week,
And doughtna tell out
A bawbee Scots to straik his cheek
Till Sunday fell out.
For John ay lo'ed to turn the pence,
Thought poortith was a great offence:
“What recks tho' ye ken mood and tense?
“A hungry weyme
“For gowd wad wi' them baith dispense
“At ony time.
Thought poortith was a great offence:
“What recks tho' ye ken mood and tense?
“A hungry weyme
“For gowd wad wi' them baith dispense
“At ony time.
“Ye ken what ails maun ay befal
“The chiel that will be prodigal;
“Whan wasted to the very spaul
“He turns his tusk,
“For want o' comfort to his saul
“O' hungry husk.”
“The chiel that will be prodigal;
“Whan wasted to the very spaul
“He turns his tusk,
“For want o' comfort to his saul
“O' hungry husk.”
Ye royit lowns! just do as he'd do;
For mony braw green shaw and meadow
He's left to cheer his dowy widow,
His winsome Kate,
That to him prov'd a canny she-dow,
Baith ear' and late.
For mony braw green shaw and meadow
He's left to cheer his dowy widow,
His winsome Kate,
That to him prov'd a canny she-dow,
Baith ear' and late.
| The Poems of Robert Fergusson | |