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Horace in Homespun by Hugh Haliburton [i.e. J. L. Robertson]

A New Edition with Illustrations by A. S. Boyd
  

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 I. 
 II. 
  
  
Hughie on Evictions: he Lectures a Greedy Landlord.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


186

Hughie on Evictions: he Lectures a Greedy Landlord.

“Non ebur neque aureum.”
Car. ii. 18.

Nae pillars rise at my door-cheeks,
Nae plate adorns my door;
The sun that through my window keeks
Sees but a sanded floor.
Nae cock-laird, sick an' sweir to dee,
Bans me, his far-aff heir;
Nae auld maid sets her mutch at me—
In stockings, mony a pair.
But common-sense and a sma' cast
O' country wit are mine,
And friendly critics, east an' wast,
Cry up my rustic line.

187

Nae better fortune would I ken
For comfort or for pride,
Blest wi' a shepherd's but-an'-ben
High up on Ochilside.
My lease o' life is half-gate through,
And I'm contented weel
To roam about, e'en as I do,
With Rover at my heel.
Alas! the emblems of our state,
Where'er we turn, appear:
Day shouthers day ayont the gate,
And moons round aff the year.
Yet you, wha's pride disdains to sell,
Wha's greed is still to buy,
Forgetfu' o' the narrow cell
Where you maun erelang lie;
You, sir, wha spin not, nor hae cause,
Or toil—but where's the use?
Are barin' quarries, biggin' wa's,
And adding ha' to hoose.

188

And what is this of tyrant's grup,
And puir men's rights opposed,
Of landmarks lifted, paths ploughed up,
And commonty enclosed?
Man, wife, an' bruckit bairns maun pack,
An' go at your command;
Wi' kist an' bundle on their back,
They're hundit aff the land.
You spurn the cottar from his cot,
The cottage from the green;
And where the poor man's home was not,
Your high ha' door is seen.
But there's a Ha' wha's door is sma',
To which a' backs maun boo;
And this great Ha' that waits us a',
Awaits baith them an' you.