His English style, an' gesture fine
Are a' clean out o' season.
Like Socrates or Antonine,

Or some auld pagan' heathen,
The moral man he does define,
But ne'er a word o' faith in

2

That's right that day.

In guid time comes an antidote
Against sic poison'd nostrum ;
For Peebles, frae the water-fit,3
Ascends the holy rostrum:
See, up he's got the word o' God,
An' meek an' mim has view'd it,

While "Common-sense " has taen the road,
An' aff, an' up the Cowgate*

5

Fast, fast that day.

Wee Miller niest the Guard relieves,

An' Orthodoxy raibles,

Tho' in his heart he weel believes,

An' thinks it auld wives' fables: But faith! the birkie wants a manse,

6

So, cannilie he hums them;

Altho' his carnal wit an' sense

Like hafflins '-wise o'ercomes him

1 VAR. "wicked" (MS.).

At times that day.

2 Rev. Wm. Peebles of "The Water-fit," or Newton-upon-Ayr. He was ordained 1778, made a D.D. in 1795, and died in 1825, aged seventy-four.

3 VAR. "For Fairy Willy Water-fit" (MS.).

4 A street so called which faces the tent in Mauchline.-R. B.

5 Rev. Alex. Miller, afterwards of Kilmaurs, a short, paunchy man, supposed to be at heart a "moderate." Ordained in 1788. Died in 1804.

clever fellow.

partly.

Now butt an' ben the change-house fills,
Wi' yill-caup commentators;
Here's cryin out for bakes and gills,
An' there the pint-stowp clatters;
While thick an' thrang, an' loud an' lang,
Wi' logic an' wi' scripture,

They raise a din, that in the end

Is like to breed a rupture

O' wrath that day.

Leeze me on drink! it gies us mair
Than either school or college;
It ken'les wit, it waukens lear,1
It pangs us fou o' knowledge:
Be't whisky-gill or penny-wheep,*
Or ony stronger potion,

2

It never fails, on drinkin deep,
To kittle up our notion,

By night or day.

The lads an' lasses, blythely bent
To mind baith saul an' body,*
Sit round the table, weel content,
An' steer about the toddy:

5

On this ane's dress, an' that ane's leuk,
They're makin observations;
While some are cozie i' the neuk,

An' forming assignations

To meet some day.

But now the L-'s ain trumpet touts,

Till a' the hills are rairin,“

1 learning.

2 crams.

3 Mr. Logie Robertson quotes Langland, who describes Rose the Regratour as pouring together "peni ale and piriwhit for laborers and louh folk."

4 VAR. "Their lowin' drouth to quench" (MS.). 5 VAR. "punch " (MS.).

6 roaring with echo.

And echoes back-return the shouts ;
Black Russell 1 is na sparin :

2

His piercin words, like highlan3 swords,
Divide the joints an' marrow;

His talk o' Hell, whare devils dwell,
"sauls does harrow

Our vera

Wi' fright that day!

A vast, unbottom'd, boundless pit,
Fill'd fou o' lowin brunstane,
Whase ragin flame, an' scorching heat,
Wad melt the hardest whun-stane!
The half-asleep start up wi' fear,
An' think they hear it roarin n;
When presently it does appear
'Twas but some neibor snorin,
Asleep that day.

'Twad be owre lang a tale to tell,
How mony stories past;

An' how they crouded to the yill,
When they were a' dismist;

How drink gaed round, in cogs an' caups,
Amang the furms an' benches;

An' cheese an' bread, frae women's laps,
Was dealt about in lunches,

9

In comes a gawsie," gash guidwife,

An' sits down by the fire,

1 VAR. "Black Jock, he " (MS.).

2 Rev. John Russell, one of the "Twa Herds," and "Rumble John" of the "Kirk's Alarm."

in 1774; called to Stirling 1800.

VAR. "twae-edged " (MS.).

Ordained

Shakespeare's "Hamlet."-R. B. (See act i. sc. 5.)
VAR. "yill" (MS.). 6 VAR. "jugs" (MS.).

7

large pieces.

jolly.

9

sagacious.

2

Syne' draws her kebbuck 2 an' her knife;
The lasses they are shyer:
The auld guidmen, about the grace,
Frae side to side they bother;
Till some ane by his bonnet lays,
An' gies them't, like a tether,

Fu' lang that day.

Waesucks!3 for him that gets nae lass,
Or lasses that hae naething!

Sma' need has he to say a grace,
Or melvie his braw claithing!
O wives, be mindfu' ance yoursel
How bonie lads ye wanted;
An' dinna for a kebbuck-heel 5
Let lasses be affronted

6

On sic a day!

Now Clinkumbell, wi' rattlin tow,

Begins to jow an' croon;

7

Some swagger hame the best they dow,"
Some wait the afternoon.

9

At slaps the billies halt a blink,

Till lasses strip their shoon:

Wi' faith an' hope, an' love an' drink,

They're a' in famous tune

For crack 10 that day.

How mony hearts this day converts

O' sinners and o' lasses!

Their hearts o' stane, gin night, are gane

As saft as ony flesh is:

There's some are fou o' love divine;

1 VAR. "Then " (MS.).
Alas. 4 soil with meal.

the bell-ringer.

2 cheese.

5 end of a cheese.

7 VAR. "Then Robin Gib, wi' weary jow, Begins to clink and croon " (MS.).

can.

9 stiles.

10 conversation.

There's some are fou o' brandy;
An' mony jobs that day begin,
May end in houghmagandie

Some ither day.

THIRD EPISTLE TO J. LAPRAIK.'1

GUID speed and furder to you, Johnie,
Guid health, hale han's an' weather bonie ;
Now, when ye're nickin' down fu' cannie
The staff o' bread,

May ye ne'er want a stoup o' bran'y
To clear your head.

3

May Boreas never thresh your rigs,
Nor kick your rickles aff their legs,
Sendin the stuff o'er muirs an' haggs'
Like drivin wrack;

But may the tapmost grain that wags
Come to the sack.

6

4

I'm bizzie, too, an' skelpin' at it,
But bitter, daudin ° showers hae wat it;
Sae my old stumpie pen I gat it

Wi' muckle wark,

An' took my jocteleg an' whatt* it,
Like ony clark.

It's now twa month that I'm your debtor,
For your braw, nameless, dateless letter,
Abusin me for harsh ill-nature

On holy men,

While deil a hair yoursel ye're better,

But mair profane.

This epistle was published in Lapraik's poems, 1788. The bad weather of 1785 destroyed half the

crops at Mossgiel.

2 cutting.

5 striking.

3 small ricks.

4 scars in mosses.

6 driving.

7

pen-knife.

cut.