Poems By Robert Leighton: 2nd ed |
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| XXI. |
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| XXIV. |
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 | Poems |  |
I. Part I.
The ship rides in the roads o' Leith,
Awaiting the westlin' breeze;
Wi' the first fair gale she is bound to sail
Far, far across the seas.
Awaiting the westlin' breeze;
Wi' the first fair gale she is bound to sail
Far, far across the seas.
And she has in baith meat and drink,
Wad fend a score o' men;
Eneuch to sair them a' and mair,
Till she comes back again;
But for every man there is on board,
O' mice there's ten times ten.
Wad fend a score o' men;
Eneuch to sair them a' and mair,
Till she comes back again;
But for every man there is on board,
O' mice there's ten times ten.
Now mice maun hae their meat and drink
As weel as ither folk;
For mice and men, fu' weel ye ken,
Are Nature's common stock.
As weel as ither folk;
For mice and men, fu' weel ye ken,
Are Nature's common stock.
294
But the Mate has gane to an eldrin dame,—
And a queer auld dame was she;
For she gat her life frae the Witch o' Fife,
And eke her gramarie.
And a queer auld dame was she;
For she gat her life frae the Witch o' Fife,
And eke her gramarie.
“I've heard o' your name, my skilly auld dame—
And a good death may ye dee;
Now ye'll try your might on a cantrip sleight,
And rewarded ye shall be.
And a good death may ye dee;
Now ye'll try your might on a cantrip sleight,
And rewarded ye shall be.
The micè that skip about our ship
Are growin' sae bauld and sae crouse,
They mind not the ban nor the face of man
No more than he were a louse.
Are growin' sae bauld and sae crouse,
They mind not the ban nor the face of man
No more than he were a louse.
The mice that skip about our ship—
There's a thousand if there's one;
Sae ye'll gie me a charm to get rid o' the swarm,
Or they'll eat us, skin and bone.”
There's a thousand if there's one;
Sae ye'll gie me a charm to get rid o' the swarm,
Or they'll eat us, skin and bone.”
“Now, woe betide the mariner
That plays his pranks on mice!
This is ane score that I have not power
Quharon to give advice.
That plays his pranks on mice!
This is ane score that I have not power
Quharon to give advice.
But I'll gie to you ane guid gray cat,
Quhase marrow's no in Fife:
An' she'll thin your ship quhare'er they skip—
Gif that they're no owre rife.
Quhase marrow's no in Fife:
An' she'll thin your ship quhare'er they skip—
Gif that they're no owre rife.
295
But gif it be as ye haif said,
They be sae mony an' sae croose,
I dreid me that ane guid gray cat
Will be of littil use.
They be sae mony an' sae croose,
I dreid me that ane guid gray cat
Will be of littil use.
Sae, ye'll leave my cat gif it be true
That sae your ship is swarmin';
For I wald not that my guid gray cat
Suld be eaten up by sic vermin.”
That sae your ship is swarmin';
For I wald not that my guid gray cat
Suld be eaten up by sic vermin.”
“No fear, no fear, my guid auld dame—
No fear at-all of that;
For I vow and swear, if I e'er come hame,
I'll bring you the guid gray cat.”
No fear at-all of that;
For I vow and swear, if I e'er come hame,
I'll bring you the guid gray cat.”
Now he has gotten the guid gray cat,
And he's put her in a seck;
He's ta'en her to the ship, and gi'en her the slip,
And she loups out on the deck.
And he's put her in a seck;
He's ta'en her to the ship, and gi'en her the slip,
And she loups out on the deck.
She had not paced the deck but twice,
When the fire flash'd frae her e'e,
And she girn'd and she spurn'd, for the scented the mice,
And lang'd their bluid to pree;
Then, wi'a squeel, and a spring, and a wheel,
Doon through the hatch flew she.
When the fire flash'd frae her e'e,
And she girn'd and she spurn'd, for the scented the mice,
And lang'd their bluid to pree;
Then, wi'a squeel, and a spring, and a wheel,
Doon through the hatch flew she.
| Poems | |