University of Virginia Library

Twas late at een when rob got ready
Mounted on visious kicking neddy
To gang a courting—not as clowns
Go now adays in country towns
Besprucst i' boots & beaver hat
Fine lap*ell'd coat—watch chain & that
Struting wi milking maids about
Like farmers gentry more then louts
—But to our tale—twas robins plan
To show a plain industrious man
Who by the way bemounted ned
To prove no pride was in his head
To let the maiden know ye mind
His taste to thriftfulness inclind
But this is usless running oer
The lass had known him long before
The ass crept on beneath its load
Mucky & splashing was the road
Slow was his pace—hed somtimes stumble
When rob woud switch his stick & grumble
Tho sticks but ill his use did suit
Wi out a spur upon his foot
The way was long they had to go
The night came oer as blacks a crow
Robin wi fear got a'most scranny
Brought ye mind a cade wi's granny
He feard the terrors night unravels
As bads a catholic fears the devil
& 'leavd the horrors of her lectures
As true's a christian does the scriptures
She preach'd him sermons upo' witches
How they woud ride a nights on switches
Of wychen-wood or willow-wicks
On brushes or on beesom sticks
How they'd transform the L---d knows what
To crowing hen or spitfire cat
Or scare night trampers 'most to death
In lonsome ways of wood or heath
Bobbing 'fore em unawares
Crossing lanes in form of hares
Thus much wi' grannys tales degrest
We'll follow rob—& she may rest
Who now was a'most off his wits
& swore & beat the ass by fits
& thought as night hid every hill
The beasts slow pace got slower still
The winds their wispering terrors blow'd
The shaking boughs bowd oer the road
& hanging brambles oft woud pat
Their scrambling tendrils on his hat
His heart the while as tho it where
Sunk even in his shoes wi fear
The moon by time thro clouds woud glisten
& he woud fetch a look & listen
Keeping on his dreadful rout
An open eye for looking out
To scape a sudden sly attack
He'd now squint 'fore then hind his back
Still upper most as like a spell
Each tale his granney us'd to tell
Tho' he'd a feign such tales forgot
When ere he passd a haunted spot
& godly things he'd think & say
To put the evil ones away
But spite of prayers—prayers coudnt stop
Like fishers floats they float at top
Still trembling shivering uper most
Granny witch-tale & dreaded gost
A moving bough a sprite he'd fear
& like hogs bristles as it where
His lank hair bolted from his head
& bore his hat up een wi dread
A wild heath now the ass crept oer
& slower seemly crept & slower
Most dreadful scene—the clock went one
& went again—he counted on
Snail creeping brute—twas much as ten
Poor donkeys hide is thrasht agen
The 'pointed time was over shot
& long way still from meggys cot
The wearied maid woud bolt the door
Nor want him nor expect him more
& whats more worse as abscence breeds
Mad jealousies in wenches heads
She might go think as nought she heard
Some wench before her was prefer'd
& her till now he did but flatter
To turn him off to mend the matter
As wells his way too loose his lass
& thro the d---d creeping ass
Thus thoughts like these disturbd the swain
& ‘Come up ned’ was lumpt again
—& now begins the tale its terrors
The substance, subject, painted horrors
The poor old visions scarcly beaten
& more by word of mouth sore threaten'd
If di'n't please to shamble faster
When lo! the horrid black disaster
Something rusht out wi hellish bustle
& crost the dark road rustle rustle
The 'fernal rout it made bespoke
Twas plain enuff the devils work
No wonder at it donk took fright
& tho rob clung wi all his might
To save him sen from tumbling down
But alls no use—bump fell the clown
A-lack-a-day's-ont what's the use
When foxs wellcome hissing goose
Her gabbling bid as much deffiance
As kidlings bleatings do to lions
The like was robins every wit
When fiends unass'd him trying to sit
The moon tween clouds just then did wink
& rob got of the gost a blink
But what or in what form exact
He coudnt say as plainly fact
But good protect him sure enough
Hells nearness gav' infernal proof
He see too plain—woe to his breeches
Twas one of Grans night walking witches

Ye may ha' seen old women swoon
When night rogues prowl the streets for fun
Wi' turnip lanthern scoopt & cut
In shape of human face or brute
Wi grinning chops woud make one quake
(An uglier grin death coudnt make)
Ye may ha' heard her piteous case
Just as they popt it in her face
Her wail of woe her mercy shout
From fancyd hell to help her out
Ye may ha' heard all but then
Twant like the shouts which robin gen
Twas small use in his piteous plight
To shout for help on heaths at night
To mak' the worst ont weep & wail
& call where none coud hear his tale
Be sure he shouted loud & shouted
(As if all earths hell-brood was routed)
But a'ter donkey twas he sallied
& threats an threatnings stoutly rallied
As how he'd wack him—cou'd he find him
& all the while but done to mind 'em
The 'grizly revelling ‘midnight bitches’
His valour did not care for witches
To mak' em 'lieve his stick was ready
To serve 'em as he threatnd neddy
To show what courage he'd to guard
& scare—if witches coud be scar'd
When the same time—the tottering clown
A very straw'd a knockt him down

As like the boy the poet sees
‘When glimpse of moon light checks the trees’
Frit as the owlets woop & woop
‘Wistles to bear his courage up’
& the same time his courage wistles
His fears een swoon at quaking thistles

So twas wi rob his brags & boasting
As while neds ribs he threats a roasting
His very heart blood twitter twatter
Curdl'd as cold as fountain water
He thought his prayers but dar' not say 'em
For fear the weakness might betray him
Soon fiends to hear him help apeal
Woud know wi whome they had to deal
While him to whom the prayers preferd
As plains a shout a wisper heard
His quaking hopes vowd twas his lot
To see once more his granneys cot
Woud good beings gi him leave once more
To lift the latch but off her door
Never while hed a single peg
(That is he meant while hed a leg)
Neds back no more woud he get on
For all his eyes ere lookt upon
No was roads een a*se deep in sludge
Then mount such brutes his stumps shud trudge
But as his reason gaind agen
& he ast where got more his sen
As nearly over set the fright
He gan to plan as wells he might
Some sort of guard for things to come
A thought that instant struck him home
For trying one o's grannys spells
That spite of witch & gost repells
Whos heard her 'score times testify it
& warnd him late to 'sure & try it
That is wi open knife to point
Ye then may walk as safe's a saint
So gran had said—& instant rob
Pulld out his dagger from his fob
& went wi't open in his clutch
To see if how they dare him touch
& ever on his rambles joyd
To think that all wer' thus defy'd
While muck & sludge his clo'hs bedapples
Will lost his ass & lost his apples
For he upon the donkeys pad
A wallet full of apples had
A present for the maid to boot
To show his love & urge his suit
But all was lost he murnd it sore
& Curst the donkey oer & oer
& even Meg so vext he wer
He'd hard work keep from busing her
So now unassd thro swamps & sloughs
He tries agen for maggys house
But as a blind man roves along
Twas all by guess work right or wrong
Tho being so scard wi's first affright
Wi fancys gohsts the while in sight
He car'd not much wheres Journey led him
If aught was found to hide his head in
Far from the lone heaths dark domains
Its narrow unfrequented lanes
Crossing deep pits oer slippy planks
Where gosts & witches play their pranks
Dangerd as travellers creep & creep
By them being tumble i' the deep
As oft dead bells at morn doth sound
Sad tidings who at night was drownd
------
He wisht to drop him savly down
Or near a house or in a town
Or barn or stable free from danger
He card not sleeping in a manger
Tho no such joys as yet suceed
He went as providence decreed
Oer paded close & mauling fields
Still fancying gost's'es at his heels
That made him quake agen of course
Tho they coud foul his breeks no worse
Nor fall upon him unprepard
As still his opt knife kept his guard
But they fright him wi their terrors
& that to him was worst of horrors
Howeer to end the tale—tho blunt
Tis just as homers skill was wont
That nought his genius might diminish
On his best tales he made no finish
Plainly to show his readers eyes
His fires to cinders never dies
To prove as chamber maids no doubt
He put it like their candles out
& leves it on our minds the stronger
If not thus servd twoud blazd much longer

So thus to mak the tale conclude
As happy as a storry should
Suffice it a'ter many a trouble
Which night sow'd in his journey double
He found to's joy his fears wer oer
When met at last wis meggys door
Who luck'ly listning on the watch
As soon's his thumb tinkt up the latch
Appeard in sweetest smiles again
(Sure antidote for all his pain)
& welcomd in her wandering love
As at the even does the dove
He hitcht his chair up—fears all hush
& felt as blest as he coud wish
Till mornings eye of rosy light
Had lookd away the fears of night
& now robs happy wi his lass
Theres some may say—but wheres the ass
To ned besure no harm befell
He lit o's legs for doing well
'Mong clover blossoms just in flower
He never passd so sweet an hour
F[r]ee from robins st[i]cks & strife
He neer felt happier in his life
He pickt & pickt the sweetest head
& followd just where fancy led
Till pindar rogues their prey pursuing
Unluck'ly catcht him trespass doing
& drove him from his plenty found
A felon provd by law—to pound
Thus ends the tale the wondrous travels
Of rob this midnights brood o' d---ls
& while it caution gi's the swain
Never to 'tempt the like again
Let other chaps consider well
Who hear the tale—the schemes of hell
& when the[y]ve sweet hearts in their heads
Neer to trust their lives wi ‘Neds’
But a'la's when they court their lasses
Tramp it on foot wi out their asses