The Poetry of Robert Burns :: :: University of Virginia Library

Wham will we send to London town,
To Parliament and a' that?
Or wha in a' the country round
The best deserves to fa' that?
For a' that, and a' that,
Thro' Galloway and a' that,
Where is the Laird or belted Knight
That best deserves to fa' that?

192

II

Wha sees Kerroughtree's open yett—
And wha is 't never saw that?—
Wha ever wi' Kerroughtree met,
And has a doubt of a' that?
For a' that, and a' that,
Here's Heron yet for a' that!
The independent patriot,
The honest man, and a' that!

III

Tho' wit and worth, in either sex,
Saint Mary's Isle can shaw that,
Wi' Lords and Dukes let Selkirk mix,
And weel does Selkirk fa' that.
For a' that, and a' that,
Here's Heron yet for a' that!
An independent commoner
Shall be the man for a' that.

IV

But why should we to Nobles jeuk,
And it against the law, that,
And even a Lord may be a gowk,
Wi' ribban, star, and a' that?
For a' that, and a' that,
Here's Heron yet for a' that!
A Lord may be a lousy loon,
Wi' ribban, star, and a' that.

193

V

A beardless boy comes o'er the hills
Wi's uncle's purse and a' that;
But we'll hae ane frae 'mang oursels,
A man we ken, and a' that.
For a' that, and a' that,
Here's Heron yet for a' that!
We are na to be bought and sold,
Like nowte, and naigs, and a' that.

VI

Then let us drink:—‘The Stewartry,
Kerroughtree's laird, and a' that,
Our representative to be’:
For weel he's worthy a' that!
For a' that, and a' that,
Here's Heron yet for a' that!
A House of Commons such as he,
They wad be blest that saw that.

BALLAD SECOND: THE ELECTION

[_]

Tune: Fy, Let Us A' to The Bridal

I

Fy, let us a' to Kirkcudbright,
For there will be bickerin there;
For Murray's light horse are to muster,
An' O, how the heroes will swear!

194

And there will be Murray commander,
An' Gordon the battle to win:
Like brothers, they'll stan' by each other,
Sae knit in alliance and kin.

II

An' there'll be black-nebbit Johnie,
The tongue o' the trump to them a':
Gin he get na Hell for his haddin,
The Deil gets nae justice ava!
And there'll be Kempleton's birkie,
A boy no sae black at the bane;
But as to his fine nabob fortune—
We'll e'en let the subject alane!

III

An' there'll be Wigton's new sheriff—
Dame Justice fu' brawly has sped:
She's gotten the heart of a Bushby,
But Lord! what's become o' the head?
An' there'll be Cardoness, Esquire,
Sae mighty in Cardoness' eyes:
A wight that will weather damnation,
For the Devil the prey would despise.

IV

An' there'll be Douglasses doughty,
New christening towns far and near:
Abjuring their democrat doings
An' kissing the arse of a peer!

195

An' there'll be Kenmure sae generous,
Wha's honor is proof to the storm:
To save them from stark reprobation
He lent them his name to the firm!

V

But we winna mention Redcastle,
The body—e'en let him escape!
He'd venture the gallows for siller,
An' 'twere na the cost o' the rape!
An' whare is our King's Lord Lieutenant,
Sae famed for his gratefu' return?
The billie is getting his Questions
To say at St. Stephen's the morn!

VI

An' there'll be lads o' the gospel:
Muirhead, wha's as guid as he's true;
An' there'll be Buittle's Apostle,
Wha's mair o' the black than the blue;
An' there'll be folk frae St. Mary's,
A house o' great merit and note:
The Deil ane but honors them highly,
The Deil ane will gie them his vote!

VII

An' there'll be wealthy young Richard,
Dame Fortune should hang by the neck:
But for prodigal thriftless bestowing,
His merit had won him respect.

196

An' there'll be rich brither nabobs;
Tho' nabobs, yet men o' the first!
An' there'll be Collieston's whiskers,
An' Quinton—o' lads no the warst!

VIII

An' there'll be Stamp-Office Johnie:
Tak tent how ye purchase a dram!
An' there'll be gay Cassencarry,
An' there'll be Colonel Tam;
An' there'll be trusty Kerroughtree,
Wha's honour was ever his law:
If the virtues were pack't in a parcel,
His worth might be sample for a'!

IX

An' can we forget the auld Major,
Wha'll ne'er be forgot in the Greys?
Our flatt'ry we'll keep for some other:
Him only it's justice to praise!
An' there'll be maiden Kilkerran,
An' also Barskimming's guid Knight.
An' there'll be roaring Birtwhistle—
Yet luckily roars in the right!

X

An' there frae the Niddlesdale border
Will mingle the Maxwells in droves:
Teuch Johnie, Staunch Geordie, and Wattie
That girns for the fishes an' loaves!

197

An' there'll be Logan's M'Doual—
Sculdudd'ry an' he will be there!
An' also the wild Scot o' Galloway,
Sogering, gunpowther Blair!

XI

Then hey the chaste interest of Broughton.
An' hey for the blessings 'twill bring!
It may send Balmaghie to the Commons—
In Sodom 'twould mak him a King!
An' hey for the sanctified Murray
Our land wha wi' chapels has stor'd;
He founder'd his horse among harlots,
But gie'd the auld naig to the Lord!

BALLAD THIRD JOHN BUSHBY'S LAMENTATION

[_]

Tune: Babes In the Wood

I

'Twas in the Seventeen Hunder year
O' grace, and Ninety-Five,
That year I was the wae'est man
Of onie man alive.

II

In March the three-an'-twentieth morn,
The sun raise clear an' bright;
But O, I was a waefu' man,
Ere to-fa' o' the night!

198

III

Yerl Galloway lang did rule this land
Wi' equal right and fame,
Fast knit in chaste and holy bands
With Broughton's noble name.

IV

Yerl Galloway's man o' men was I,
And chief o' Broughton's host:
So twa blind beggars, on a string,
The faithfu' tyke will trust!

V

But now Yerl Galloway's sceptre's broke,
And Broughton's wi' the slain,
And I my ancient craft may try,
Sin' honesty is gane.

VI

'Twas by the banks o' bonie Dee,
Beside Kirkcudbright's towers,
The Stewart and the Murray there
Did muster a' their powers.

VII

Then Murray on the auld grey yaud
Wi' wingèd spurs did ride:
That auld grey yaud a' Nidsdale rade,
He staw upon Nidside.

199

VIII

An' there had na been the Yerl himsel,
O, there had been nae play!
But Garlies was to London gane,
And sae the kye might stray.

IX

And there was Balmaghie, I ween—
In front rank he wad shine;
But Balmaghie had better been
Drinkin' Madeira wine.

X

And frae Glenkens cam to our aid
A chief o' doughty deed:
In case that worth should wanted be,
O' Kenmure we had need.

XI

And by our banners march'd Muirhead,
And Buittle was na slack,
Whase haly priesthood nane could stain,
For wha could dye the black?

XII

And there was grave Squire Cardoness,
Look'd on till a' was done:
Sae in the tower o' Cardoness
A howlet sits at noon.

200

XIII

And there led I the Bushby clan:
My gamesome billie, Will,
And my son Maitland, wise as brave,
My footsteps follow'd still.

XIV

The Douglas and the Heron's name,
We set nought to their score;
The Douglas and the Heron's name
Had felt our weight before.

XV

But Douglasses o' weight had we:
The pair o' lusty lairds,
For building cot-houses sae fam'd,
And christenin kail-yards.

XVI

And then Redcastle drew his sword
That ne'er was stain'd wi' gore
Save on a wand'rer lame and blind,
To drive him frae his door.

XVII

And last cam creepin Collieston,
Was mair in fear than wrath;
Ae knave was constant in his mind—
To keep that knave frae scaith.