The Works of The Ettrick Shepherd Centenary Edition. With a Memoir of the Author, by the Rev. Thomas Thomson ... Poems and Life. With Many Illustrative Engravings [by James Hogg] |
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The Author's Address to his auld dog Hector.
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 | The Works of The Ettrick Shepherd |  |
The Author's Address to his auld dog Hector.
Come, my auld, towzy, trusty friend,
What gars ye look sae dung wi' wae?
D'ye think my favour's at an end,
Because thy head is turnin' gray?
What gars ye look sae dung wi' wae?
D'ye think my favour's at an end,
Because thy head is turnin' gray?
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Although thy strength begins to fail,
Its best was spent in serving me;
An' can I grudge thy wee bit meal,
Some comfort in thy age to gie?
Its best was spent in serving me;
An' can I grudge thy wee bit meal,
Some comfort in thy age to gie?
For mony a day, frae sun to sun,
We've toiled fu' hard wi' ane anither;
An' mony a thousand mile thou'st run,
To keep my thraward flocks thegither.
We've toiled fu' hard wi' ane anither;
An' mony a thousand mile thou'st run,
To keep my thraward flocks thegither.
To nae thrawn boy nor naughty wife,
Shall thy auld banes become a drudge;
At cats an' callans a' thy life,
Thou ever bor'st a mortal grudge;
Shall thy auld banes become a drudge;
At cats an' callans a' thy life,
Thou ever bor'st a mortal grudge;
An' whiles thy surly look declared,
Thou lo'ed the women warst of a';
Because my love wi' thee they shared,
A matter out o' right or law.
Thou lo'ed the women warst of a';
Because my love wi' thee they shared,
A matter out o' right or law.
When sittin' wi' my bonnie Meg,
Mair happy than a prince could be,
Thou placed thee by her other leg,
An' watched her wi' a jealous ee.
Mair happy than a prince could be,
Thou placed thee by her other leg,
An' watched her wi' a jealous ee.
An' then at ony start or flare,
Thou wad'st hae worried furiouslye;
While I was forced to curse an' swear,
Afore thou wad'st forbidden be.
Thou wad'st hae worried furiouslye;
While I was forced to curse an' swear,
Afore thou wad'st forbidden be.
Yet wad she clasp thy towzy paw;
Thy gruesome grips were never skaithly;
An' thou than her hast been mair true,
An' truer than the friend that gae thee.
Thy gruesome grips were never skaithly;
An' thou than her hast been mair true,
An' truer than the friend that gae thee.
Ah me! o' fashion, self, an' pride,
Mankind hae read me sic a lecture;
But yet it's a' in part repaid
By thee, my faithful, grateful Hector!
Mankind hae read me sic a lecture;
But yet it's a' in part repaid
By thee, my faithful, grateful Hector!
O'er past imprudence, oft alane
I've shed the saut an' silent tear;
Then sharin' a' my grief an' pain,
My poor auld friend came snoovin' near.
I've shed the saut an' silent tear;
Then sharin' a' my grief an' pain,
My poor auld friend came snoovin' near.
For a' the days we've sojourned here,
An' they've been neither fine nor few,
That thought possest thee year to year,
That a' my griefs arase frae you.
An' they've been neither fine nor few,
That thought possest thee year to year,
That a' my griefs arase frae you.
Wi' waesome face an' hingin' head,
Thou wad'st hae pressed thee to my knee;
While I thy looks as weel could read,
As thou had'st said in words to me;
Thou wad'st hae pressed thee to my knee;
While I thy looks as weel could read,
As thou had'st said in words to me;
“O my dear master, dinna greet;
What hae I ever done to vex thee?
See here I'm cowrin' at your feet;
Just take my life, if I perplex thee.
What hae I ever done to vex thee?
See here I'm cowrin' at your feet;
Just take my life, if I perplex thee.
“For a' my toil, my wee drap meat
Is a' the wage I ask of thee;
For whilk I'm oft obliged to wait
Wi' hungry wame an' patient ee.
Is a' the wage I ask of thee;
For whilk I'm oft obliged to wait
Wi' hungry wame an' patient ee.
“Whatever wayward course ye steer;
Whatever sad mischance o'ertake ye;
Man, here is ane will hald ye dear!
Man, here is ane will ne'er forsake ye!”
Whatever sad mischance o'ertake ye;
Man, here is ane will hald ye dear!
Man, here is ane will ne'er forsake ye!”
Yes, my puir beast, though friends me scorn,
Whom mair than life I valued dear;
An' thraw me out to fight forlorn,
Wi' ills my heart do hardly bear.
Whom mair than life I valued dear;
An' thraw me out to fight forlorn,
Wi' ills my heart do hardly bear.
While I hae thee to bear a part—
My health, my plaid, an' heezle rung,—
I'll scorn the unfeeling haughty heart,
The saucy look, and slanderous tongue.
My health, my plaid, an' heezle rung,—
I'll scorn the unfeeling haughty heart,
The saucy look, and slanderous tongue.
Some friends, by pop'lar envy swayed,
Are ten times waur than ony fae;
My heart was theirs, an' to them laid
As open as the light o' day.
Are ten times waur than ony fae;
My heart was theirs, an' to them laid
As open as the light o' day.
I feared my ain, but had nae dread,
That I for loss o' theirs should mourn;
Or that when luck an' favour fled,
Their friendship wad injurious turn.
That I for loss o' theirs should mourn;
Or that when luck an' favour fled,
Their friendship wad injurious turn.
But He who feeds the ravens young,
Lets naething pass he disna see;
He'll sometime judge o' right an' wrang,
An' aye provide for you an' me.
Lets naething pass he disna see;
He'll sometime judge o' right an' wrang,
An' aye provide for you an' me.
An' hear me, Hector, thee I'll trust,
As far as thou hast wit an' skill;
Sae will I ae sweet lovely breast,
To me a balm for every ill.
As far as thou hast wit an' skill;
Sae will I ae sweet lovely breast,
To me a balm for every ill.
To these my trust shall ever turn,
While I have reason truth to scan;
But ne'er beyond my mother's son,
To aught that bears the shape o' man.—
While I have reason truth to scan;
But ne'er beyond my mother's son,
To aught that bears the shape o' man.—
I ne'er could thole thy cravin' face,
Nor when ye pattit on my knee;
Though in a far an' unco place,
I've whiles been forced to beg for thee.
Nor when ye pattit on my knee;
Though in a far an' unco place,
I've whiles been forced to beg for thee.
Even now I'm in my master's power,
Where my regard may scarce be shown;
But ere I'm forced to gie thee o'er,
When thou art auld an' senseless grown,
Where my regard may scarce be shown;
But ere I'm forced to gie thee o'er,
When thou art auld an' senseless grown,
I'll get a cottage o' my ain,
Some wee bit cannie, lonely biel',
Where thy auld heart shall rest fu' fain,
An' share wi' me my humble meal.
Some wee bit cannie, lonely biel',
Where thy auld heart shall rest fu' fain,
An' share wi' me my humble meal.
Thy post shall be to guard the door
Wi' gousty bark, whate'er betides;
Of cats an' hens to clear the floor,
An' bite the flaes that vex thy sides.
Wi' gousty bark, whate'er betides;
Of cats an' hens to clear the floor,
An' bite the flaes that vex thy sides.
When my last bannock's on the hearth,
Of that thou sanna want thy share;
While I hae house or hauld on earth,
My Hector shall hae shelter there.
Of that thou sanna want thy share;
While I hae house or hauld on earth,
My Hector shall hae shelter there.
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An' should grim death thy noddle save,
Till he has made an' end o' me;
Ye'll lye a wee while on the grave
O' ane wha aye was kind to thee.
Till he has made an' end o' me;
Ye'll lye a wee while on the grave
O' ane wha aye was kind to thee.
There's nane alive will miss me mair;
An' though in words thou canst not wail,
On a' the claes thy master ware,
I ken thou'lt smell an' wag thy tail.
An' though in words thou canst not wail,
On a' the claes thy master ware,
I ken thou'lt smell an' wag thy tail.
If e'er I'm forced wi' thee to part,
Which will be sair against my will;
I'll sometimes mind thy honest heart,
As lang as I can climb a hill.
Which will be sair against my will;
I'll sometimes mind thy honest heart,
As lang as I can climb a hill.
Come, my auld towzy, trusty friend,
Let's speel to Queensb'ry's lofty height;
All wardly cares we'll leave behind,
An' onward look to days more bright.
Let's speel to Queensb'ry's lofty height;
All wardly cares we'll leave behind,
An' onward look to days more bright.
While gazing o' er the Lawland dales,
Despondence on the breeze shall flee;
An' muses leave their native vales
To scale the clouds wi' you an' me.
Despondence on the breeze shall flee;
An' muses leave their native vales
To scale the clouds wi' you an' me.
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