University of Virginia Library


157

PEG LINDSAY'S PRAYER,

WHEN JOCK WAS DRUNK.

O Thou wha made the sun and moon,
Wha stamacks put puir folks within,
Wha gi'ed us feet without the shoon,
And bodies sarkless,
And maybe means oor Jock should win
Eternal darkness—
Thou wha hast gi'en us weans to feed,
That deave us wi' perpetual need;
Thou wha provides oor meal and bread
(Whiles michty scanty,
Though some need never fash their head,
Yet aye hae plenty)—

158

Thou wha hast gi'en puir women men
That roar like lions but and ben,
And a' their hard-won siller spen'
In drucken rantin',
While bairns at hame, they brawly ken,
Their brose are wantin'—
Thou wha permits the swurd and knife,
Wha lets men meet in deedly strife,
Wha strew'st sae thick the lea o' life
Wi' weeds o' care,—
I'm puir Jock Lindsay's lawfu' wife;
Oh, hear my prayer!
O teach oor Jock to un'erstaun'
His duty in a Christian laun',
And gar him toil wi' eident haun'
Sax days ilk week,
Or else his bairns will soon be gaun
Their meat to seek.

159

Lord, let him hear them sab and greet,
And tell him cauld, bare, hackit feet,
When Winter sends his hail and sleet,
Are hard to bear;
For Satan's den and fiery speet
Jock doesna fear.
O tell him o' the dark rent-day,
The water-folk—the gas-man tae,
And show him jinglin' in his way
The felon's fetter;
Or if the hulks thou'dst for him spae,
He might do better.
O gar him hate that filthy quean
Wi' whom he's been sae aften seen:
Oh, I could blacken baith her een,
The shameless jade!
Her like on earth has never been—
But Jock's as bad.

160

In some daft spree he's like to leave me,
But weel thou kens that sair wad grieve me;
I'd rather hae him curse and deave me
Wi' pest-hoose slang;
Sae dinna o' my Jock bereave me,
But spare him lang.
He'll maybe yet gie owre his drinkin',
May yet on Peg and bairns be thinkin',
May yet hae weel-hained guineas clinkin':
My heart grows fain;
The star o' Houp is o'er me blinkin'.
Amen, Amen!