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He whistled up Lord Lennox' march
To keep his courage cheery; Although his hair began to arch,
He was sae fley'd and eerie: Till presently he hears a squeak,
And then a grane and gruntle ; He by his shouther gae a keek, And tumbled wi' a wintle?
Out-owre that night.
In dreadfu' desperation !
To hear the sad narration :
Or crouchie4 Merran Humphie, Till, stop ! she trotted through them a'And wha was it but grumphies
Asteer that night! Meg fain wad to the barn hae gaen,
To win three wechts 6 o naething ;' But for to meet the deil her lane,
She pat but little faith in :
And twa red-cheekit apples,
That very night.
And owre the threshold ventures; But first on Sawnie gies a ca',
Syne bauldly in she enters: A ratton rattled up the wa',
And she cried, Lord, preserve her! And ran through midden-hole and a', And pray'd wi' zeal and fervour,
Fu' fast that night. They hoy't8 out Will, wi' sair advice ;
They hecht' him some fine braw ane ;
4 Crook backed.
* This charm must likewise be performed unperceived and alone. to the barn, and open both doors, taking them off the hinges, if possible ; for there is danger that the being about to appear may shut the doors, and do you some mischief. Then take that instrument used in winnowing the corn, which in our country dialect we call a wecht; and go through all the attitudes of letting down corn against the wind. Repeat it three times; and the third time an apparition will pass through the barn, in at the windy door, and out at the other, having both the figure in question, and the appearance or retinue marking the employment or station in life.-B.
It chanced the stack he faddom't thrice *
Was timmer-propt for thrawin';
For some black, grousomea carlin ;
Aff's nieves that night.
As canty as a kittlin ;
She got a fearfu' settlin'!
And owre the hill gaed scrievin,
Was bent that night.
As through the glen it wimplt ;
Whyles in a wiel? it dimpl't ;
Wi' bickering, dancing dazzle ;
Unseen that night.
Between her and the moon,
Gat up and gae a croon: 9
Near lav'rock-height she jumpit ;
Wi' a plunge that night.
The luggies three are ranged,
5 Hands. 6 Gorse. 7 Eddy.
8 Unhoused heifer.
* Take an opportunity of going unnoticed to a bean-stack, and fathom it three times round. The last fathom of the last time, you will catch in your arms the appearance of your future conjugal yoke-fellow.-B.
+ You go out, one or more, for this is a social spell, to a south-running spring or rivulet, where "three lairds' lands meet," and dip, your left shirt-sleeve. Go to bed in sight of a fire, and hang your wet sleeve before it to dry. Lie awake ; and, some time near midnight, an apparition, having the exact figure of the grand object in question, will come and turn the sleeve, as if to dry the other side of it.-B.
Take three dishes ; put clean water in one, foul water in another, leave the third empty: blindfold a person, and lead him to the hearth where the
And every time great care is ta’en
To see them duly changed :
Sin' Mar's year did desire,
In wrath that night.
I wat they didna weary;
Their sports were cheap and cheery;
Set a' their gabs 3 a-steerin';
Fu' blythe that night.
MAN WAS MADE TO MOURN.
GILBERT BURNS tells us that “several of the poems were produced for the purpose of bringing forward some favourite sentiinent of the author's. He used to remark to me that he could not well conceive a more mortifying picture of human life than a man seeking work In casting about in his mind how this sentiment might be brought forward, the elegy, “Man was Made to Mourn,' was composed.
An old Scottish ballad had_suggested the poem. "I had an old granduncle," says the poet to Mrs. Dunlop, “with whom my mother lived a while in her girlish years. The good old man was long blind ere he died, during which time his highest enjoyment was to sit down and cry, while my mother would sing the simple old song of 'The Life and Age of Man.'' From the poet's mother, Mr. Cromek procured a copy of this composition ; it commences thus:“Upon the sixteen hundred
As writings testifie;
As I did lie alone,
When chill November's surly blast
Made fields and forests bare,
Along the banks of Ayr,
4 Spirits. dishes are ranged; he (or she) dips the left hand : if by chance in the clean water, the future husband or wife will come to the bar of matrimony a maid ; if in the foul, a widow; if in the empty dish, it foretells, with equal certainty, no marriage at all. It is repeated three times, and every time the arrangement of the dishes is altered.-B.
* Sowens. -The shell of the corn (called shellings) is left in water until the fine meal particles are extracted ; tha liquid, when strained off, is boiled with butter.
I spied a man whose aged step
Seem'd weary, worn with care ;
And hoary was his hair. “ Young stranger, whither wanderest thou?"
Began the reverend sage ;
Or youthful pleasure's rage?
Too soon thou hast began
The miseries of man.
Outspreading far and wide, Where hundreds labour to support
A haughty lordling's pride:
Twice forty times return,
That man was made to mourn.
How prodigal of time ! Misspending all thy precious hours,
Thy glorious youthful prime!
Licentious passions burn;
That man was made to mourn.
Or manhood's active might;
Supported is his right:
With cares and sorrows worn;
Show man was made to mourn. "A few seem favourites of fate,
In pleasure's lap carest;
Are likewise truly blest.
Are wretched and forlorn !
That man was made to mourn.
Inwoven with our frame !
Regret, remorse, and shame !
And man, whose heaven-erected face
The smiles of love adorn,
Makes countless thousands mourn !
So abject, mean, and vile,
To give him leave to toil;
The poor petition spurn,
And helpless offspring mourn.
By nature's law design'd-
E’er planted in my mind ?
His cruelty or scorn?
To make his fellow mourn ?
Disturb thy youthful breast;
Is surely not the last !
Had never, sure, been born,
To comfort those that mourn.
The kindest and the best!
Are laid with thee at rest !
From pomp and pleasure torn;
That weary-laden mourn !"
THE COTTER'S SATURDAY NIGHT.
INSCRIBED TO ROBERT AIKEN, ESQ. GILBERT BURNS says in regard to this fine poem :-“Robert had frequently remarked to me that he thought there was something peculiarly venerable in the phrase, 'Let us worship God!' used by a decent, sober head of a family, introducing family worship. To this sentiment of the author, the world is indebted for The Cotter's Saturday Night.' When Robert had not some pleasure in view in which I was not thought fit to participate, we used frequently to walk together, when the weather was favourable, on the Sunday afternoons -- those precious breathing times to the labouring part of the community-and enjoyed such Sundays as would make one regret to see their number abridged. It was in one of these walks that I first had the pleasure of hearing the author repeat'The Cotter's Saturday Night.' I do not recollect to have read or heard anything by which I was more highly electrified. The fifth and sixth stanzas,