Poems, on sacred and other subjects and songs, humorous and sentimental: By the late William Watt. Third edition of the songs only--with additional songs |
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THE BEADLE AND THE SEXTON. |
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 | Poems, on sacred and other subjects |  |
177
THE BEADLE AND THE SEXTON.
The beadle and the sexton
Gaed in to drink a chappin,
And talk on ony odds and ends
That up and down did happen.
The tide o' trade is run sae ebb
That folk combine thegither,
Sae Rab and Will averr'd their right
As good as ony ither.
Gaed in to drink a chappin,
And talk on ony odds and ends
That up and down did happen.
The tide o' trade is run sae ebb
That folk combine thegither,
Sae Rab and Will averr'd their right
As good as ony ither.
Now Robin Grub the sexton was
A gash and gabby body,
Wha could wheep aff a horn o' yill,
Or glass o' reeking toddy;
The beadle's name was Willie Gled,
A slee and sleeky shaver,
Whase drouth as great as Robin's was,
But aye his face was graver.
A gash and gabby body,
Wha could wheep aff a horn o' yill,
Or glass o' reeking toddy;
The beadle's name was Willie Gled,
A slee and sleeky shaver,
Whase drouth as great as Robin's was,
But aye his face was graver.
When they had drunk to ither's health,
And talked on the weather,
Quo' Willie, “how's trade gaun wi' you?
Mine's reestin a' thegither!”
“Indeed, I canna sair complain,
To tell the truth,” said Robin,
“For aye somebody's drappin' aff,
Whilk hauds me hafflings jobbin'.
And talked on the weather,
Quo' Willie, “how's trade gaun wi' you?
Mine's reestin a' thegither!”
“Indeed, I canna sair complain,
To tell the truth,” said Robin,
“For aye somebody's drappin' aff,
Whilk hauds me hafflings jobbin'.
“The ither Monday mornin',
When I was at my labour,
Wha stappit owre the style to crack,
But just the priest, our neighbour!”
‘Robin,’ quo' he, ‘ye're eident at
Your dreary avocation;’
‘Yes, Sir,’ quo' I, ‘folk's blithe o' wark,
To keep them frae starvation.
When I was at my labour,
Wha stappit owre the style to crack,
But just the priest, our neighbour!”
‘Robin,’ quo' he, ‘ye're eident at
Your dreary avocation;’
‘Yes, Sir,’ quo' I, ‘folk's blithe o' wark,
To keep them frae starvation.
“‘But gin a stipend I could get,
Come labour or come nane, Sir,
Frae wishin' skaith to ony ane
For aye I would refrain, Sir;’
This touch'd him on the kittle flank,
And hafflins did him huff, man;
He said nae mair, but bade guid morn',
Syne walked aff right gruff, man.”
Come labour or come nane, Sir,
Frae wishin' skaith to ony ane
For aye I would refrain, Sir;’
178
And hafflins did him huff, man;
He said nae mair, but bade guid morn',
Syne walked aff right gruff, man.”
The beadle, wheepin' aff his cog,
Says, “Man, that's special reason;
It gars ane's elbow yeuk to hear
A word laid in—in season;
To help the clerk, he's raised the cries,
Whilks set the folk a-smugglin';
Sae ne'er a ane comes through the kirk—
They a' skip yont to Ruglen.
Says, “Man, that's special reason;
It gars ane's elbow yeuk to hear
A word laid in—in season;
To help the clerk, he's raised the cries,
Whilks set the folk a-smugglin';
Sae ne'er a ane comes through the kirk—
They a' skip yont to Ruglen.
“Rab Urie, there, for twa three gills,
Will splice a hasty couple;
And sae I lie out o' my dues,
And canna weet my thrapple:
I've been sae sair bestead o' late,
By rich and puir negleckit,
That twice or thrice I've spunged the plate,
And, heth, I'm now suspeckit.”
Will splice a hasty couple;
And sae I lie out o' my dues,
And canna weet my thrapple:
I've been sae sair bestead o' late,
By rich and puir negleckit,
That twice or thrice I've spunged the plate,
And, heth, I'm now suspeckit.”
Quo' Robin, “I an openin' see
To better our condition,
Gin we could only cautious be,
And keep awa' suspicion.
The kirkyaird's fairly in our power,
Unfasht wi' strict inspection;
What hauds our han's, but we, at times,
May try a resurrection?”
To better our condition,
Gin we could only cautious be,
And keep awa' suspicion.
The kirkyaird's fairly in our power,
Unfasht wi' strict inspection;
What hauds our han's, but we, at times,
May try a resurrection?”
Said Willie, wi' assentin' smile,
“I've whiles been thinkin' on it;
Yet couldna broach't, till ance I heard
What cam' frae 'neath your bonnet.
The doctors wad skip a' their lare
Withouten sic assistance;
Gin ye agree, come, there's my han',
I sal mak' nae resistance.”
“I've whiles been thinkin' on it;
Yet couldna broach't, till ance I heard
What cam' frae 'neath your bonnet.
The doctors wad skip a' their lare
Withouten sic assistance;
Gin ye agree, come, there's my han',
I sal mak' nae resistance.”
Ilk claucht the ither's horny paw,
And soukit aff his jorum,
To sanction the unhallow'd law
Pass'd by this twasome quorum.
They've startit trade, but how 'twill end,
A warlock couldna spae yet;
Perhaps in wealth, perhaps 'twill send
Them baith to Bot'ny Bay yet.
And soukit aff his jorum,
To sanction the unhallow'd law
Pass'd by this twasome quorum.
179
A warlock couldna spae yet;
Perhaps in wealth, perhaps 'twill send
Them baith to Bot'ny Bay yet.
| Poems, on sacred and other subjects | |