Horace in Homespun by Hugh Haliburton [i.e. J. L. Robertson] A New Edition with Illustrations by A. S. Boyd |
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Hughie sympathises with Jocky on his
well-earned Rest. |
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| I. |
| II. |
 | Horace in Homespun by Hugh Haliburton [i.e. J. L. Robertson] |  |
16
Hughie sympathises with Jocky on his well-earned Rest.
“Gaudet invisam pepulisse fossor
Ter pede terram.”
—Car. iii. 18.
Ter pede terram.”
—Car. iii. 18.
Now Jocky's freed! The bands are broke
That tied him to the hated yoke;
Rejoicing in his freedom found,
With heavy heel he hits the ground.
That tied him to the hated yoke;
Rejoicing in his freedom found,
With heavy heel he hits the ground.
In thraldom to the red earth bound,
Sweet Jocky's griefs were of the ground;
Now, bondsman with a broken chain,
He leaps upon his tyrant slain.
Sweet Jocky's griefs were of the ground;
Now, bondsman with a broken chain,
He leaps upon his tyrant slain.
Leeze me on simmer!—but she brings
A heavy load of hempen strings;
She ties sweet Jocky to the wark
Fra morning dim till gloaming dark.
A heavy load of hempen strings;
She ties sweet Jocky to the wark
Fra morning dim till gloaming dark.
17
His haunds are hard, his banes are sair;
Wi' but the gift o' caller air,
He plants his feet in many a soil,
He leaves in many a clod his toil.
Wi' but the gift o' caller air,
He plants his feet in many a soil,
He leaves in many a clod his toil.
But noo nae mair he'll drag his feet;
The labour o' the year's complete:
Now beat the stibble-laund wi' glee,
And fling aloft with fetlock free!
The labour o' the year's complete:
Now beat the stibble-laund wi' glee,
And fling aloft with fetlock free!
On loft with rural joy he jumps,
He beats the ground with triple thumps!
The lingering vigour of his legs
He leaves upon the hated rigs!
He beats the ground with triple thumps!
The lingering vigour of his legs
He leaves upon the hated rigs!
Now heap the hearth with peats an' whins;
And, Jocky, rest and roast your shins,—
Till Candlemas with blustering shout
Cry Jocky and his oxen out!
And, Jocky, rest and roast your shins,—
Till Candlemas with blustering shout
Cry Jocky and his oxen out!
| Horace in Homespun by Hugh Haliburton [i.e. J. L. Robertson] | |