The poems and literary prose of Alexander Wilson ... for the first time fully collected and compared with the original and early editions ... edited ... by the Rev. Alexander B. Grosart ... with portrait, illustrations, &c |
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ELEGY
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 | The poems and literary prose of Alexander Wilson |  |
ELEGY
ON THE LONG EXPECTED DEATH OF A WRETCHED MISER.
Wealth he has none, who mourns his scanty store,
And midst of plenty, starves, and thinks he's poor.
—Pope.
And midst of plenty, starves, and thinks he's poor.
—Pope.
Wi' branchin' birk yer winnocks hing,
Whang down the cheese owre heaps o' bread;
Roun' wi' the blue, an' roar an' sing,
For camsheugh auld F---s is dead.
Whang down the cheese owre heaps o' bread;
Roun' wi' the blue, an' roar an' sing,
For camsheugh auld F---s is dead.
54
Hech! is he dead? then ilka chiel
May now be fear't for Death's fell nips,
Since he wha fac'd the vera de'il,
Has fa'n beneath the spectre's grips.
May now be fear't for Death's fell nips,
Since he wha fac'd the vera de'il,
Has fa'n beneath the spectre's grips.
Whare will the god o' gowden ore,
Light on a box wi' sic a dog,
To guard by night an' day his store,
Since John's laid caul' below the fug?
Light on a box wi' sic a dog,
To guard by night an' day his store,
Since John's laid caul' below the fug?
His fearsome blue Kilmarnock cowl,
His cloutet hose, an' sarks, and bedding,
Wi' weel-swall't social vermin foul—
I saw them a' flung to the midding.
His cloutet hose, an' sarks, and bedding,
Wi' weel-swall't social vermin foul—
I saw them a' flung to the midding.
Now, Clootie, loup an' shake yer rump,
Nae mair ye'll need at night to watch him,
Grim glowrin' by some aul' tree-stump,
An' rattlin' airns in vain to catch him.
Nae mair ye'll need at night to watch him,
Grim glowrin' by some aul' tree-stump,
An' rattlin' airns in vain to catch him.
Nae mair need ye in corp-like shape,
Aneath the midnight moon lie streeket;
Nor wi' lang clauts, like ony graip,
Wauk thro' his bield, an' doors a' steeket.
Aneath the midnight moon lie streeket;
Nor wi' lang clauts, like ony graip,
Wauk thro' his bield, an' doors a' steeket.
Whiles like a cat, ye'd tread his skelf,
An' range amang his plates an' bannocks;
Whiles rumlin' owre his box't-up pelf,
Or chappin' awsome at his winnocks.
An' range amang his plates an' bannocks;
Whiles rumlin' owre his box't-up pelf,
Or chappin' awsome at his winnocks.
But a' your schemes, an' a' your plots,
An' a' the midnight frights ye lent him;
And a' the fear o' tyning notes,
Was naething, till a wife ye sent him.
An' a' the midnight frights ye lent him;
And a' the fear o' tyning notes,
Was naething, till a wife ye sent him.
“A Wife! a curse!” (quo' John, in rage,
Soon as his tickling heat abated,)
“A black, bare whore, to vex my age!”
He said, he girn't, swore, an' regretted.
Soon as his tickling heat abated,)
“A black, bare whore, to vex my age!”
He said, he girn't, swore, an' regretted.
55
His dearie, glad o' siccan routh,
To mill a note was aye right ready:
Aft she wad kiss his toothless mouth,
While John keen ca'd her his ain lady.
To mill a note was aye right ready:
Aft she wad kiss his toothless mouth,
While John keen ca'd her his ain lady.
When in the bed, (whare a' fouks gree)
An' John laid soun' wi' Venus' capers;
She raise—lowst frae his breeks the key,
Slade up the lid, an' poucht the papers.
An' John laid soun' wi' Venus' capers;
She raise—lowst frae his breeks the key,
Slade up the lid, an' poucht the papers.
This pass't a wee, till rous'd he ran,
He visited his cash,—his heav'n;
He coudna see, but trem'lin' fan'
A yearly income frae him riv'n.
He visited his cash,—his heav'n;
He coudna see, but trem'lin' fan'
A yearly income frae him riv'n.
O then what tortures tare his soul!
He groan'd, he spat, he glowrt, he shor'd out:
Then rais't a most tremendous growl,
Sunk by the box, and desperate roar'd out:
He groan'd, he spat, he glowrt, he shor'd out:
Then rais't a most tremendous growl,
Sunk by the box, and desperate roar'd out:
“My soul—my all—my siller's fled!
Fled wi' a base confounded limmer!
O grief o' griefs! alake, my head!
My head rins roun', my een grow dimmer.
Fled wi' a base confounded limmer!
O grief o' griefs! alake, my head!
My head rins roun', my een grow dimmer.
Wi' meikle, meikle faught an' care,
An' mony a lang night's fell vexation,
I toil'd, and watch'd to keep it there,
An' now I'm left in black starvation.
An' mony a lang night's fell vexation,
I toil'd, and watch'd to keep it there,
An' now I'm left in black starvation.
My meal, like snaw afore the sin,
Its aye ga'n doon an' aye beginnin',
Lade after lade she orders in,
An' than for trash she's ever rinnin'.
Its aye ga'n doon an' aye beginnin',
Lade after lade she orders in,
An' than for trash she's ever rinnin'.
A' day she'll drink an' flyte an' roar
A' night she tears me wi' her talons,
An' gin I crawl butt frae the door,
I'm hunted hame wi' dogs an' callans.
A' night she tears me wi' her talons,
An' gin I crawl butt frae the door,
I'm hunted hame wi' dogs an' callans.
56
My sons, wi' chan'ler chafts gape roun',
To rive my gear, my siller frae me;
While lice an' fleas, an' vermin brown,
Thrangt in my sarks, eternal flae me.
To rive my gear, my siller frae me;
While lice an' fleas, an' vermin brown,
Thrangt in my sarks, eternal flae me.
Ye precious remnants! curst to me,
Ye dearest gifts to John e'er given;
Wi' you I've liv'd, wi' you I'll die,
Wi' you I'll gang to Hell or Heaven.”
Ye dearest gifts to John e'er given;
Wi' you I've liv'd, wi' you I'll die,
Wi' you I'll gang to Hell or Heaven.”
He spak'; an' on the vera spot,
Ramt goud and notes, wi' trem'lin' hurry,
In han'fu's down his gorged-up throat,
While blude lap frae his een in fury.
Ramt goud and notes, wi' trem'lin' hurry,
In han'fu's down his gorged-up throat,
While blude lap frae his een in fury.
I saw wi' dread, an' ran my lane,
To clear his throat and ease his breathing;
But ere I reach't he gied a grane,
An' lifeless lay alang the leathing.
To clear his throat and ease his breathing;
But ere I reach't he gied a grane,
An' lifeless lay alang the leathing.
| The poems and literary prose of Alexander Wilson | |