The Poetical Works of Hector MacNeill ... A New Edition, Corrected and Enlarged. In Two Volumes |
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| SCOTLAND'S SCAITH;
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| I. |
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 | The Poetical Works of Hector MacNeill |  |
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SCOTLAND'S SCAITH;
OR, THE HISTORY OF WILL AND JEAN: OWRE TRUE A TALE!
So shall thy poverty come, as one that travelleth; and thy want as an armed man.
—Prov.
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TO DAVID DOIG, LL. D. F.S.S.A. MASTER OF THE GRAMMAR SCHOOL, STIRLING.
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I. PART I.
Wha was ance like Willie Gairlace,
Wha in neighbouring town or farm?
Beauty's bloom shone in his fair face,
Deadly strength was in his arm!
Wha in neighbouring town or farm?
Beauty's bloom shone in his fair face,
Deadly strength was in his arm!
Wha wi' Will could rin or wrastle?
Throw the sledge, or toss the bar?
Hap what would, he stood a castle,
Or for safety, or for war:
Throw the sledge, or toss the bar?
Hap what would, he stood a castle,
Or for safety, or for war:
8
Warm his heart, and mild as manfu',
With the bauld he bauld could be;
But to friends wha had their handfu',
Purse and service aye ware free.
With the bauld he bauld could be;
But to friends wha had their handfu',
Purse and service aye ware free.
Whan he first saw Jeanie Miller,
Wha wi' Jeanie could compare?—
Thousands had mair braws and siller,
But ware ony half sae fair?
Wha wi' Jeanie could compare?—
Thousands had mair braws and siller,
But ware ony half sae fair?
Saft her smile raise like May morning,
Glinting o'er Demait's brow:
Sweet! wi' opening charms adorning
Strevlin's lovely plains below!
Glinting o'er Demait's brow:
Sweet! wi' opening charms adorning
Strevlin's lovely plains below!
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Kind and gentle was her nature;
At ilk place she bore the bell;—
Sic a bloom, and shape, and stature!
But her look nae tongue can tell!
At ilk place she bore the bell;—
Sic a bloom, and shape, and stature!
But her look nae tongue can tell!
Such was Jean, whan Will first mawing,
Spied her on a thraward beast;
Flew like fire, and just whan fa'ing
Kept her on his manly breast.
Spied her on a thraward beast;
Flew like fire, and just whan fa'ing
Kept her on his manly breast.
Light he bore her, pale as ashes,
Cross the meadow, fragrant, green!
Placed her on the new-mawn rashes,
Watching sad her opening een.
Cross the meadow, fragrant, green!
Placed her on the new-mawn rashes,
Watching sad her opening een.
10
Such was Will, whan poor Jean fainting
Drapt into a lover's arms;
Wakened to his saft lamenting;
Sighed, and blushed a thousand charms.
Drapt into a lover's arms;
Wakened to his saft lamenting;
Sighed, and blushed a thousand charms.
Soon they loo'd, and soon were buckled;
Nane took time to think and rue.—
Youth and worth and beauty cuppled;
Love had never less to do.
Nane took time to think and rue.—
Youth and worth and beauty cuppled;
Love had never less to do.
Three short years flew by fu' canty,
Jean and Will thought them but ane;
Ilka day brought joy and plenty,
Ilka year a dainty wean;
Jean and Will thought them but ane;
Ilka day brought joy and plenty,
Ilka year a dainty wean;
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Will wrought sair, but aye with pleasure;
Jean, the hale day, spun and sang;
Will and weans, her constant treasure,
Blest with them, nae day seemed lang;
Jean, the hale day, spun and sang;
Will and weans, her constant treasure,
Blest with them, nae day seemed lang;
Trig her house, and oh! to busk aye
Ilk sweet bairn was a' her pride!—
But at this time news and whisky
Sprang nae up at ilk road-side.
Ilk sweet bairn was a' her pride!—
But at this time news and whisky
Sprang nae up at ilk road-side.
Luckless was the hour when Willie,
Hame returning frae the fair,
O'er-took Tam, a neighbour billie,
Sax miles frae their hame and mair;
Hame returning frae the fair,
O'er-took Tam, a neighbour billie,
Sax miles frae their hame and mair;
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Simmer's heat had lost its fury;
Calmly smiled the sober e'en;
Lasses on the bleachfield hurry
Skelping barefoot o'er the green;
Calmly smiled the sober e'en;
Lasses on the bleachfield hurry
Skelping barefoot o'er the green;
Labour rang with laugh and clatter,
Canty hairst was just begun,
And on mountain, tree, and water,
Glinted saft the setting sun.
Canty hairst was just begun,
And on mountain, tree, and water,
Glinted saft the setting sun.
Will and Tam, with hearts a'lowping,
Marked the hale, but could nae bide;
Far frae hame, nae time for stopping,
Baith wished for their ain fire-side:
Marked the hale, but could nae bide;
Far frae hame, nae time for stopping,
Baith wished for their ain fire-side:
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On they travelled, warm and drouthy,
Cracking o'er the news in town;
The mair they cracked, the mair ilk youthy
Prayed for drink to wash news down.
Cracking o'er the news in town;
The mair they cracked, the mair ilk youthy
Prayed for drink to wash news down.
Fortune, wha but seldom listens
To poor merit's modest prayer,
And on fools heaps needless blessins,
Harkened to our drouthy pair;
To poor merit's modest prayer,
And on fools heaps needless blessins,
Harkened to our drouthy pair;
In a howm, whase bonnie burnie
Whimperin rowed its crystal flood,
Near the road, whar trav'lers turn aye,
Neat and bield a cot-house stood;
Whimperin rowed its crystal flood,
Near the road, whar trav'lers turn aye,
Neat and bield a cot-house stood;
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White the wa's, wi' roof new theekit,
Window broads just painted red;
Lown 'mang trees and braes it reekit,
Haflins seen and haflins hid;
Window broads just painted red;
Lown 'mang trees and braes it reekit,
Haflins seen and haflins hid;
Up the gavel-end thick spreading.
Crap the clasping ivy green,
Back owre, firs the high craigs cleading,
Raised a'round a cozey screen;
Crap the clasping ivy green,
Back owre, firs the high craigs cleading,
Raised a'round a cozey screen;
Down below, a flowery meadow
Joined the burnie's rambling line;—
Here it was, that Howe, the widow,
This same day set up her sign.
Joined the burnie's rambling line;—
Here it was, that Howe, the widow,
This same day set up her sign.
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Brattling down the brae, and near its
Bottom, Will first marv'ling sees
‘Porter, Ale, and British Spirits,’
Painted bright between twa trees.
Bottom, Will first marv'ling sees
‘Porter, Ale, and British Spirits,’
Painted bright between twa trees.
‘Godsake! Tam, here's walth for drinking;—
(Wha can this new comer be?’)
‘Hoot! quo Tam, there's drouth in thinking—
Let's in, Will, and syne we'll see.’
(Wha can this new comer be?’)
‘Hoot! quo Tam, there's drouth in thinking—
Let's in, Will, and syne we'll see.’
Nae mair time they took to speak or
Think of ought but reaming jugs;
Till three times in humming liquor
Ilk lad deeply laid his lugs.
Think of ought but reaming jugs;
Till three times in humming liquor
Ilk lad deeply laid his lugs.
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Slockened now, refreshed and talking,
In cam Meg (weel skilled to please)
‘Sirs! ye're surely tired wi' walking;—
Ye maun taste my bread and cheese.’
In cam Meg (weel skilled to please)
‘Sirs! ye're surely tired wi' walking;—
Ye maun taste my bread and cheese.’
‘Thanks, quo Will;—I canna tarry,
Pick mirk night is setting in,
Jean, poor thing's! her lane, and eery—
I maun to the road and rin.’
Pick mirk night is setting in,
Jean, poor thing's! her lane, and eery—
I maun to the road and rin.’
‘Hoot! quo' Tam, what's a'the hurry!
Hame's now scarce a mile o'gate—
Come! sit down—Jean winna wearie:
Lord! I'm sure it's no sae late!’
Hame's now scarce a mile o'gate—
Come! sit down—Jean winna wearie:
Lord! I'm sure it's no sae late!’
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Will, o'ercome with Tam's oration,
Baith fell to, and ate their fill—
‘Tam,’ quo' Will, ‘in meer discretion,
We maun hae the widow's gill.’
Baith fell to, and ate their fill—
‘Tam,’ quo' Will, ‘in meer discretion,
We maun hae the widow's gill.’
After ae gill cam anither—
Meg sat cracking 'tween them twa,
Bang! cam in Mat Smith and's brither,
Geordie Brown and Sandie Shaw.
Meg sat cracking 'tween them twa,
Bang! cam in Mat Smith and's brither,
Geordie Brown and Sandie Shaw.
Neighbours wha ne'er thought to meet here,
Now sat down wi' double glee,
Ilka gill grew sweet and sweeter!—
Will got hame 'tween twa and three.
Now sat down wi' double glee,
Ilka gill grew sweet and sweeter!—
Will got hame 'tween twa and three.
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Jean, poor thing! had lang been greetin;
Will, next morning, blamed Tam Lowes,
But ere lang, a weekly meetin
Was set up at Maggie Howe's.
Will, next morning, blamed Tam Lowes,
But ere lang, a weekly meetin
Was set up at Maggie Howe's.
END OF THE FIRST PART.
One of the Ochil hills, near Stirling. Dun-ma-chit (Gaelic), the hill of the good prospect. It is pronounced Demyit.
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PART II.
Maist things hae a sma' beginning,
But wha kens how things will end?
Weekly clubs are nae great sinning,
If folk hae enough to spend.
But wha kens how things will end?
Weekly clubs are nae great sinning,
If folk hae enough to spend.
But nae man o'sober thinking
E'er will say that things can thrive,
If there's spent in weekly drinking
What keeps wife and weans alive.
E'er will say that things can thrive,
If there's spent in weekly drinking
What keeps wife and weans alive.
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Drink maun aye hae conversation,
Ilka social soul allows;
But, in this reforming nation,
Wha can speak without the news?
Ilka social soul allows;
But, in this reforming nation,
Wha can speak without the news?
News, first meant for state physicians,
Deeply skilled in courtly drugs;
Now, whan a'are politicians,
Just to set folks by the lugs.—
Deeply skilled in courtly drugs;
Now, whan a'are politicians,
Just to set folks by the lugs.—
Maggie's club, wha could get nae light
On some things that should be clear,
Found ere lang the fault, and ae night
Clubbed, and got the Gazetteer .
On some things that should be clear,
Found ere lang the fault, and ae night
Clubbed, and got the Gazetteer .
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Twice a week to Maggie's cot-house,
Swift! by post the papers fled!
Thoughts spring up like plants in hot-house,
Every time the news are read.
Swift! by post the papers fled!
Thoughts spring up like plants in hot-house,
Every time the news are read.
Ilk ane's wiser than anither,—
‘Things are no ga'en right,’ quo' Tam,
‘Let us aftener meet thegither;
Twice a week's no worth a d---n.’
‘Things are no ga'en right,’ quo' Tam,
‘Let us aftener meet thegither;
Twice a week's no worth a d---n.’
See them now in grave convention,
To mak a'things ‘square and even;’
Or at least wi' firm intention
To drink sax nights out o'seven.
To mak a'things ‘square and even;’
Or at least wi' firm intention
To drink sax nights out o'seven.
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Mid this sitting up and drinking,
Gathering a'the news that fell;
Will, wha was nae yet past thinking,
Had some battles wi' himsell.
Gathering a'the news that fell;
Will, wha was nae yet past thinking,
Had some battles wi' himsell.
On ae hand, drink's deadly poison
Bare ilk firm resolve awa;
On the ither, Jean's condition
Rave his very heart in twa.
Bare ilk firm resolve awa;
On the ither, Jean's condition
Rave his very heart in twa.
Weel he saw her smothered sorrow!
Weel he saw her bleaching cheek!
Marked the smile she strave to borrow,
When, poor thing, she could nae speak!
Weel he saw her bleaching cheek!
Marked the smile she strave to borrow,
When, poor thing, she could nae speak!
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Jean, at first, took little heed o'
Weekly clubs mang three or four,
Thought, kind soul! that Will had need o'
Heartsome hours whan wark was owre.
Weekly clubs mang three or four,
Thought, kind soul! that Will had need o'
Heartsome hours whan wark was owre.
But whan now that nightly meetings
Sat and drank frae sax till twa;
Whan she faund that hard-earned gettings
Now on drink ware thrown awa;
Sat and drank frae sax till twa;
Whan she faund that hard-earned gettings
Now on drink ware thrown awa;
Saw her Will, wha ance sae cheerie
Raise ilk morning wi' the lark,
Now grown mauchless, dowf and sweer aye
To look near his farm or wark;
Raise ilk morning wi' the lark,
Now grown mauchless, dowf and sweer aye
To look near his farm or wark;
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Saw him tyne his manly spirit,
Healthy bloom, and sprightly ee;
And o'love and hame grown wearit,
Nightly frae his family flee;—
Healthy bloom, and sprightly ee;
And o'love and hame grown wearit,
Nightly frae his family flee;—
Wha could blame her heart's complaining?
Wha condemn her sorrows meek?
Or the tears that now ilk e'ening
Bleached her lately crimsoned cheek!—
Wha condemn her sorrows meek?
Or the tears that now ilk e'ening
Bleached her lately crimsoned cheek!—
Will, wha lang had rued and swithered,
(Aye ashamed o'past disgrace)
Marked the roses as they withered
Fast on Jeanie's lovely face!
(Aye ashamed o'past disgrace)
Marked the roses as they withered
Fast on Jeanie's lovely face!
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Marked,—and felt wi' inward racking,
A'the wyte lay wi' himsel,—
Swore next night he'd mak a breaking,—
D---d the club and news to hell!
A'the wyte lay wi' himsel,—
Swore next night he'd mak a breaking,—
D---d the club and news to hell!
But, alas! whan habit's rooted,
Few hae pith the root to pu';
Will's resolves were aye nonsuited,
Promised aye, but aye got fou;
Few hae pith the root to pu';
Will's resolves were aye nonsuited,
Promised aye, but aye got fou;
Aye at first at the convening
Moralized on what was right,—
Yet o'er clavers entertaining
Dozed and drank till brade day-light.
Moralized on what was right,—
Yet o'er clavers entertaining
Dozed and drank till brade day-light.
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Things at length draw near an ending;
Cash runs out; Jean, quite unhappy,
Sees that Will is now past mending,
Tynes a'heart, and taks a—drappy !
Cash runs out; Jean, quite unhappy,
Sees that Will is now past mending,
Tynes a'heart, and taks a—drappy !
Ilka drink deserves a posey;
Port maks men rude, claret civil;
Beer maks Britons stout and rosy,
Whisky maks ilk wife—a devil.
Port maks men rude, claret civil;
Beer maks Britons stout and rosy,
Whisky maks ilk wife—a devil.
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Jean, wha lately bore affliction
Wi' sae meek and mild an air,
Schooled by whisky, learns new tricks soon,
Flytes, and storms, and rugs Will's hair.
Wi' sae meek and mild an air,
Schooled by whisky, learns new tricks soon,
Flytes, and storms, and rugs Will's hair.
Jean, sae late the tenderest mither,
Fond of ilk dear dauted wean!
Now, heart-hardened a'thegither,
Skelps them round frae morn till e'en.
Fond of ilk dear dauted wean!
Now, heart-hardened a'thegither,
Skelps them round frae morn till e'en.
Jean, wha vogie, loo'd to busk aye
In her hame-spun, thrifty wark;
Now sells a'her braws for whisky,
To her last gown, coat, and sark!
In her hame-spun, thrifty wark;
Now sells a'her braws for whisky,
To her last gown, coat, and sark!
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Robin Burns, in mony a ditty,
Loudly sings in whisky's praise;
Sweet his sang!—the mair's the pity
E'er on it he wared sic lays.
Loudly sings in whisky's praise;
Sweet his sang!—the mair's the pity
E'er on it he wared sic lays.
Of a'the ills poor Caledonia
E'er yet pree'd, or e'er will taste,
Brewed in hell's black Pandemonia,
Whisky's ill will scaith her maist!—
E'er yet pree'd, or e'er will taste,
Brewed in hell's black Pandemonia,
Whisky's ill will scaith her maist!—
‘Wha was ance like Willie Gairlace!
Wha in neighbouring town or farm?
Beauty's bloom shone in his fair face,
Deadly strength was in his arm!
Wha in neighbouring town or farm?
Beauty's bloom shone in his fair face,
Deadly strength was in his arm!
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‘Whan he first saw Jeanie Miller,
Wha wi' Jeanie could compare?
Thousands had mair braws and siller,
But were ony half sae fair?’
Wha wi' Jeanie could compare?
Thousands had mair braws and siller,
But were ony half sae fair?’
See them now—how changed wi' drinking!
A'their youthfu' beauty gane!—
Davered, doited, daized and blinking,
Worn to perfect skin and bane!
A'their youthfu' beauty gane!—
Davered, doited, daized and blinking,
Worn to perfect skin and bane!
In the cauld month o'November,
(Claise, and cash, and credit out)
Cowring o'er a dying ember,
Wi' ilk face as white's a clout;
(Claise, and cash, and credit out)
Cowring o'er a dying ember,
Wi' ilk face as white's a clout;
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Bond and bill, and debts a'stopped,
Ilka sheaf selt on the bent;
Cattle beds, and blankets rouped,
Now to pay the laird his rent;
Ilka sheaf selt on the bent;
Cattle beds, and blankets rouped,
Now to pay the laird his rent;
No another night to lodge here!
No a friend their cause to plead!
He ta'en on to be a sodger,
She, wi' weans, to beg her bread!
No a friend their cause to plead!
He ta'en on to be a sodger,
She, wi' weans, to beg her bread!
‘O’ a'the ills poor Caledonia
E'er yet pree'd, or e'er will taste,
Brewed in hell's black Pandemonia,
Whisky's ill will scaith her maist!!
E'er yet pree'd, or e'er will taste,
Brewed in hell's black Pandemonia,
Whisky's ill will scaith her maist!!
The author cannot refrain from seizing the last opportunity he may ever have, to caution his female readers against the vice, here intentionally introduced. Women are not sufficiently aware of the danger annexed to the smallest indulgence in spirituous liquors. A delicate frame, or a susceptible mind, experiencing a temporary relief from a pernicious stimulus, has recourse to it at a time when the best cordials are fortitude and resignation. Hence the deplorable habit of dram-drinking—a habit the most disgusting! —the most degrading to the female character!
| The Poetical Works of Hector MacNeill | |