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7

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 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:

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.
Whan he first saw Jeanie Miller,
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!

9

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!
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.
Light he bore her, pale as ashes,
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.
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.
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;

11

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;
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.
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;

12

Simmer's heat had lost its fury;
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.
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:

13

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.
Fortune, wha but seldom listens
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;

14

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;
Up the gavel-end thick spreading.
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.

15

Brattling down the brae, and near its
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.’
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.

16

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.’
‘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.’
‘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!’

17

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.’
After ae gill cam anither—
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.

18

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.
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.

The ancient name of Stirling.