Miscellanies in prose and verse on several occasions, by Claudero [i.e. James Wilson], son of Nimrod the Mighty Hunter. The Fourth Edition with large Additions |
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To the Coal-drivers, and the Retailers of Coals about Edinburgh.
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 | Miscellanies in prose and verse |  |
To the Coal-drivers, and the Retailers of Coals about Edinburgh.
Hail, kindly warmth, and joyful May;
Welcome Phœbus' genial ray:
To nipping frosts we bid adieu,
And coalmens rogueries not a few.
Now summer smiles o'er hill and dale,
And fragrance flows from ev'ry vale:
All nature, chearful, glads the heart
Of those who suffer'd winter's smart.
The busy bee at large now roves,
And sips the sweet from flow'ry groves;
'Gainst winter to preserve their lives,
By instinct taught, they store their hives:
A lesson to mankind they read,
To buy their coals before they need.
Welcome Phœbus' genial ray:
To nipping frosts we bid adieu,
And coalmens rogueries not a few.
Now summer smiles o'er hill and dale,
And fragrance flows from ev'ry vale:
All nature, chearful, glads the heart
Of those who suffer'd winter's smart.
The busy bee at large now roves,
And sips the sweet from flow'ry groves;
'Gainst winter to preserve their lives,
By instinct taught, they store their hives:
A lesson to mankind they read,
To buy their coals before they need.
'Tis coals I sing, black is the theme!
And 'twill redound to coalmens shame.
Coal-storers, listen to my muse,
And porters too, pray don't refuse
To read my lays, and then apply,
“To do as you would be done by.”
This golden rule, quite short and plain,
Gives neither mind, nor mem'ry pain:
By this, if men would square their lives,
(Nor do I here seclude their wives)
All would be well, and man would be
An emblem of divinity.
But sordid wretches, who attain
To riches by oppressive gain,
Are to their country round a curse,
And ought to hang like a cut-purse.
And 'twill redound to coalmens shame.
Coal-storers, listen to my muse,
And porters too, pray don't refuse
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“To do as you would be done by.”
This golden rule, quite short and plain,
Gives neither mind, nor mem'ry pain:
By this, if men would square their lives,
(Nor do I here seclude their wives)
All would be well, and man would be
An emblem of divinity.
But sordid wretches, who attain
To riches by oppressive gain,
Are to their country round a curse,
And ought to hang like a cut-purse.
Coal Johnie, void of all remorse,
But differs little from his horse:
Yet skill'd in ev'ry art to cheat,
Can mag the coals with nice deceit.
His honest pownie t'other day
Did blush to bear the load away:
And, in horse language, plainly said,
His master drove a knavish trade.
But Johnie urg'd in his defence,
That winter was the time for pence;
While citizens did starve with cold,
And coals must have for any gold.
But differs little from his horse:
Yet skill'd in ev'ry art to cheat,
Can mag the coals with nice deceit.
His honest pownie t'other day
Did blush to bear the load away:
And, in horse language, plainly said,
His master drove a knavish trade.
But Johnie urg'd in his defence,
That winter was the time for pence;
While citizens did starve with cold,
And coals must have for any gold.
The honest beast did make reply,
And said, Dear John, the poor must buy
At rates exorbitantly dear,
More than their incomes well can spare,
While at the hill you pay no more
Than usual in the days of yore.
To conscience pownie did appeal:
But John, enraged at this tale,
Did lash the beast with whip in hand,
And then enjoin'd this strict command;
If ever more I hear you tell
How coals are bought, and how they sell,
O'er yonder glen I'll break your neck:
It sets you ill me to direct,
Or talk of conscience to coal John,
Within whose breast there ne'er was one.
Though dear I sold last day in town,
Yet a forestaller won a crown
Upon a cart, and porters wait
Each day for us at Bristo gate:
To cheat the city is their gain,
And yet they're called honest men.
And said, Dear John, the poor must buy
At rates exorbitantly dear,
More than their incomes well can spare,
While at the hill you pay no more
Than usual in the days of yore.
To conscience pownie did appeal:
But John, enraged at this tale,
Did lash the beast with whip in hand,
And then enjoin'd this strict command;
If ever more I hear you tell
How coals are bought, and how they sell,
O'er yonder glen I'll break your neck:
It sets you ill me to direct,
Or talk of conscience to coal John,
Within whose breast there ne'er was one.
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Yet a forestaller won a crown
Upon a cart, and porters wait
Each day for us at Bristo gate:
To cheat the city is their gain,
And yet they're called honest men.
But magistrates,—woe worth the chance!
Of our snug trade take cognizance;
Reviews the weights o'er all the town,
And has detected many a lown,
Whose hundred weights were made of stone,
And just ones scarcely there was none.
Then spoke the horse in humble tone,
With great submission, unto John,
And said, Dear Sir, I'm always willing
To trudge the road for t'other shilling;
Nor will I ever more presume
To give advice unto my groom:
Yet after I am dead and gone,
There will be news of you, coal John.
From villany you'll never stop,
Till you are choked in a rope.
And if retailers get their due,
The knavish ones should hang with you.
Of our snug trade take cognizance;
Reviews the weights o'er all the town,
And has detected many a lown,
Whose hundred weights were made of stone,
And just ones scarcely there was none.
Then spoke the horse in humble tone,
With great submission, unto John,
And said, Dear Sir, I'm always willing
To trudge the road for t'other shilling;
Nor will I ever more presume
To give advice unto my groom:
Yet after I am dead and gone,
There will be news of you, coal John.
From villany you'll never stop,
Till you are choked in a rope.
And if retailers get their due,
The knavish ones should hang with you.
| Miscellanies in prose and verse | |