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's Letter of Invitation to the Laird,
Entangled by Business or Pleasure in
the Town. |
 | Horace in Homespun by Hugh Haliburton [i.e. J. L. Robertson] |  |
193
Hughie's Letter of Invitation to the Laird, Entangled by Business or Pleasure in the Town.
“Omitte mirari beatæ
Fumum et opes strepitumque Romæ.”
—Car. iii. 29.
Fumum et opes strepitumque Romæ.”
—Car. iii. 29.
Dear laird, although the house be sma',
A but-an'-ben the sum o't a',
It hauds a drap o' usquebau'
As clear's a bead,
And aye, whene'er ye like to ca',
A welcome wi' 'd.
A but-an'-ben the sum o't a',
It hauds a drap o' usquebau'
As clear's a bead,
And aye, whene'er ye like to ca',
A welcome wi' 'd.
Ye're busy, laird; but what's the need?
It canna be the love o' greed;
It ne'er was in your father's creed:
Come up, an' bide,
An' see the flocks how fine they feed
On Ochilside.
It canna be the love o' greed;
It ne'er was in your father's creed:
Come up, an' bide,
An' see the flocks how fine they feed
On Ochilside.
194
Country and Town are badly pair'd,
Like Samson and Delila, laird;
She hauds her victims by the beard,
As weel she can do 'd.
Till in the limmer's lap, I'm fear'd,
They lose their manheid.
Like Samson and Delila, laird;
She hauds her victims by the beard,
As weel she can do 'd.
Till in the limmer's lap, I'm fear'd,
They lose their manheid.
But three mile oot, or aiblins fowre,
The vile enchantress has nae power;
In vain her glance, in vain her glower;
A nobler bliss
Begins to act that very hour—
The country's kiss.
The vile enchantress has nae power;
In vain her glance, in vain her glower;
A nobler bliss
Begins to act that very hour—
The country's kiss.
Pure air wi' whin and hawthorn sweet,
Clear burns that bathe the mountain's feet,
The hills on high, the heavens complete,
The far-aff seas—
Can streets an' chimla-pats compete
Wi' charms like these?
Clear burns that bathe the mountain's feet,
The hills on high, the heavens complete,
The far-aff seas—
Can streets an' chimla-pats compete
Wi' charms like these?
195
Tell nane. an' tak' nae fareweel grip;
Just rise, an' gie the town the slip;
Get in your hand your ridin' whip,
And up the brae
Try Dandy's mettle till your hip
'S as black's a slae!
Just rise, an' gie the town the slip;
Get in your hand your ridin' whip,
And up the brae
Try Dandy's mettle till your hip
'S as black's a slae!
Then, like a king that wears a crown,
On hills that are your ain look roun';
An' lead the life a' lives aboon
In God's daylicht;
And in a shepherd's hut sleep soun'
The solid nicht!
On hills that are your ain look roun';
An' lead the life a' lives aboon
In God's daylicht;
And in a shepherd's hut sleep soun'
The solid nicht!
| Horace in Homespun by Hugh Haliburton [i.e. J. L. Robertson] | |