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 Auld Weaver's Address
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 | Poems, on sacred and other subjects |  |
The Auld Weaver's Address
To the KING, PEERS, and COMMONS, in Parliament assembled, February, 1822.
Most gracious sacred potentate,
George IV. Dei gratia Rex!
Ye Peers, wha are by heirship great,
Wham politics perplex!
And you, ye Commons, wha maun wait
The rabble's nods and becks!
Hear me, the cursed fit-ba' o' fate,
Wham taxes sairly vex
Baith nicht and day.
George IV. Dei gratia Rex!
Ye Peers, wha are by heirship great,
Wham politics perplex!
And you, ye Commons, wha maun wait
The rabble's nods and becks!
227
Wham taxes sairly vex
Baith nicht and day.
Dame Pride, perchance, may cry, “Begone,
Thou elf of foul sedition!
Darest thou present, before the throne,
Thy mother-tongue petition?”
Yes: though to lare I'm scarcely known,
And mean be my condition,
I see the state is out o' tone,
And needs some sage physician,
In haste, this day!
Thou elf of foul sedition!
Darest thou present, before the throne,
Thy mother-tongue petition?”
Yes: though to lare I'm scarcely known,
And mean be my condition,
I see the state is out o' tone,
And needs some sage physician,
In haste, this day!
Auld Britain, lang, in foreign wars,
Has warslet tough and dour,
And spite o' a' their clouts and scaurs,
Has sternly stood the stour;
Her scarlet ranks and hardy tars
Ha'e prappit sae her power,
That, 'neath the auspices o' Mars,
Her honour's handed, pure,
Down to this day.
Has warslet tough and dour,
And spite o' a' their clouts and scaurs,
Has sternly stood the stour;
Her scarlet ranks and hardy tars
Ha'e prappit sae her power,
That, 'neath the auspices o' Mars,
Her honour's handed, pure,
Down to this day.
When a' the nation, warm wi' joy,
Hail'd the return o' peace,
Blithe fancy did our minds up buoy
Wi' hopes that want would cease:
Baith priests and peers, wi' tales fu' coy,
Did prophesy release;
But, faith! they fawn'd but to destroy:
Their aim was just to fleece
Our fabs ilk day.
Hail'd the return o' peace,
Blithe fancy did our minds up buoy
Wi' hopes that want would cease:
Baith priests and peers, wi' tales fu' coy,
Did prophesy release;
But, faith! they fawn'd but to destroy:
Their aim was just to fleece
Our fabs ilk day.
Ilk wicht, beneath his ain fig tree,
They pictured sittin' vogie,
While plenty, wi' invitin' e'e,
Still fill'd the ebbin' coggie;
But ceaseless toil instead, wae's me!
'Midst damp and oil-reek foggy,
Gars you a' strut wi' head fu' high,
While we croyn, bare and scroggy
As death, this day.
They pictured sittin' vogie,
While plenty, wi' invitin' e'e,
Still fill'd the ebbin' coggie;
But ceaseless toil instead, wae's me!
'Midst damp and oil-reek foggy,
Gars you a' strut wi' head fu' high,
While we croyn, bare and scroggy
As death, this day.
228
Your Majesty, wi' sapient e'e,
Perceives the nation's thrivin',
Forsooth, 'cause trade now blinks a-wee,
And revenue's revivin';
But poor bedrudged wichts like me,
What still wi' want are strivin',
Deem, on the rock o' bankruptcy,
Wi' rapid sweep, she's drivin'
Adrift this day.
Perceives the nation's thrivin',
Forsooth, 'cause trade now blinks a-wee,
And revenue's revivin';
But poor bedrudged wichts like me,
What still wi' want are strivin',
Deem, on the rock o' bankruptcy,
Wi' rapid sweep, she's drivin'
Adrift this day.
I grant, your outgi'e is na sma'
In this, your peerless nation,
Nor would I ha'e you live ava'
Below your royal station;
But, guide's! within Westminster ha',
Upon your coronation,
The sum ye that day threw awa'
Surpasses calculation
On ony day.
In this, your peerless nation,
Nor would I ha'e you live ava'
Below your royal station;
But, guide's! within Westminster ha',
Upon your coronation,
The sum ye that day threw awa'
Surpasses calculation
On ony day.
“Retrench, reform!” ilk birkie cries,
Whene'er his fab's affeckit;
Ilk whig his eloquence hard plies,
In hopes to be respeckit:
But I, wha ne'er aspired to rise,
And ha'e been aye negleckit,
The State-bark trust to you sae wise,
And carena though ye wreck it,
I vow, this day.
Whene'er his fab's affeckit;
Ilk whig his eloquence hard plies,
In hopes to be respeckit:
But I, wha ne'er aspired to rise,
And ha'e been aye negleckit,
The State-bark trust to you sae wise,
And carena though ye wreck it,
I vow, this day.
Experience, sooth, will teach ye soon
The gratitude o' Russia,
And show the thanks for favours done
To Austria, France, and Prussia;
Thae faithless blades ha'e changed their tune,
And now richt fain would crush a'
That's left o' freedom 'neath the moon,
And your hale treasure wish a'
Their ain this day.
The gratitude o' Russia,
And show the thanks for favours done
To Austria, France, and Prussia;
Thae faithless blades ha'e changed their tune,
And now richt fain would crush a'
That's left o' freedom 'neath the moon,
And your hale treasure wish a'
Their ain this day.
Spain ye supported, feichten for
The present constitution,
And on puir Boney barr'd the door,
Whilk wroucht his dissolution;
And can ye, a' the warld before,
Her leave to persecution
Frae tyrants, leagued wi' mad uproar,
And hope for absolution
On ony day?
The present constitution,
And on puir Boney barr'd the door,
Whilk wroucht his dissolution;
229
Her leave to persecution
Frae tyrants, leagued wi' mad uproar,
And hope for absolution
On ony day?
But whare the means, God kens alane,
By whilk ye will support her,
For a' the nation shrieks wi' pain,
Wrung by financial torture:
If Wellington intend again
Frae bondage to escort her—
E'en tak' your will—Amen! Amen!
Your race will be the shorter
For that some day.
By whilk ye will support her,
For a' the nation shrieks wi' pain,
Wrung by financial torture:
If Wellington intend again
Frae bondage to escort her—
E'en tak' your will—Amen! Amen!
Your race will be the shorter
For that some day.
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