The poetical works of Sir Alexander Boswell ... Now first collected and edited, with memoir, by Robert Howie Smith |
 | I. |
THE CHANGE OF EDINBURGH—SONG. |
 | II. |
 | The poetical works of Sir Alexander Boswell |  |
15
THE CHANGE OF EDINBURGH—SONG.
Hech! what a change ha'e we now in this toun!
A' now are braw lads—the lassies a' glancin';
Folk maun be dizzie gaun aye in the roun',
For de'il a haet's done now but feastin' and dancin'.
A' now are braw lads—the lassies a' glancin';
Folk maun be dizzie gaun aye in the roun',
For de'il a haet's done now but feastin' and dancin'.
Gowd's no that scanty in ilk siller pock,
When ilka bit laddie maun hae his bit staigie;
But I ken't the day when there was nae a Jock
But trotted about upon honest shanks-naigie.
When ilka bit laddie maun hae his bit staigie;
But I ken't the day when there was nae a Jock
But trotted about upon honest shanks-naigie.
Little was stown then, and less gaed to waste,
Barely a mullin for mice or for rattens;
The thrifty housewife to the Flesh Market pac'd,
Her equipage a', just a gude pair o' pattens.
Barely a mullin for mice or for rattens;
The thrifty housewife to the Flesh Market pac'd,
Her equipage a', just a gude pair o' pattens.
Folk were as good then, and friends were as leal,
Though coaches were scant, wi' their cattle a-cantrin';
Right air we were tel't by the housemaid or chiel,
Sir, an' ye please, here's—your lass and a lantern.
Though coaches were scant, wi' their cattle a-cantrin';
Right air we were tel't by the housemaid or chiel,
Sir, an' ye please, here's—your lass and a lantern.
The town may be clouted and piec'd till it meets
A' neebours benorth and besouth without haltin',
Brigs may be biggit ow'r lums and ow'r streets—
The Nor-loch itsel' heaped heigh as the Calton.
A' neebours benorth and besouth without haltin',
Brigs may be biggit ow'r lums and ow'r streets—
The Nor-loch itsel' heaped heigh as the Calton.
16
But whar is true friendship? And whar will you see
A' that is gude, honest, modest, and thrifty?
Tak' grey hairs and wrinkles, and hirple wi' me,
And think on the seventeen hundred and fifty.
A' that is gude, honest, modest, and thrifty?
Tak' grey hairs and wrinkles, and hirple wi' me,
And think on the seventeen hundred and fifty.
| The poetical works of Sir Alexander Boswell | |