Of manhood but sma' is your share; Ye've the figure, 'tis true, Even your faes will allow,. And your friends they dare grant you nae mair. Muirland Jock,1 Muirland Jock, Whom the L-d made a rock To crush Common Sense for her sins, If ill manners were wit, There's no mortal so fit To confound the poor Doctor at ance. Holy Will,2 Holy Will, There was wit i' your skull, When ye pilfered the alms o' the poor; The timmer is scant, When ye're ta'en for a saunt, Wha should swing in a rape for a hour. Calvin's sons, Calvin's sons, Seize your spir'tual guns, Ammunition you never can need; Your hearts are the stuff, timber rope 1 Rev. John Shepherd, Muirkirk. The statistical account of Muirkirk, contributed by this gentleman to Sir John Sinclair's work, is above the average in intelligence, and very agreeably written. He had, however, an unfortunate habit of saying rude things, which he mistook for wit, and thus laid himself open to Burns's satire. 2 The elder, William Fisher, whom Burns had formerly scourged. Will be powther enough, And your skulls are storehouses o' lead. Poet Burns, Poet Burns, Wi' your priest-skelping turns, Why desert ye your auld native shire? Though your Muse is a gipsy, Yet were she e'en tipsy, She could ca' us nae waur than we are.1 slapping 1 In the present version of this poem, advantage is taken of a few various readings from a copy published by Allan Cunningham, in which there is a curious repetition of the last line of each verse, along with the name of the party addressed. A specimen of this arrangement is given in the following additional stanza, from Allan's copy: Afton's laird, Afton's laird, A copy of this I bequeath On the same sicker score, As I mentioned before, To that trusty auld worthy, Clackleith, Afton's laird; To that trusty auld worthy, Clackleith. WILLIE BREWED A PECK O' MAUT. "This air is [Allan] Masterton's; the song, mine. The occasion of it was this: Mr. William Nicol, of the High School, Edinburgh, during the autumn vacation being at Moffat, honest Allan-who was at that time on a visit to Dalswinton and I went to pay Nicol a visit. We had such a joyous meeting, that Mr. Masterton and I agreed, each in our own way, that we should celebrate the business." B. O WILLIE brewed a peck o' maut, We are na fou', we're nae that fou', Here are we met, three merry boys, It is the moon, I ken her horn, taste sky She shines sae bright to wile us hame, Wha first shall rise to gang awa', THE WHISTLE. "In the train of Anne of Denmark, when she came to Scotland with our James VI., there came over also a Danish gentleman of gigantic stature and great prowess, and a matchless champion of Bacchus. He had a little ebony whistle, which at the commencement of the orgies he laid on the table, and whoever was the last able to blow it, everybody else being disabled by the potency of the bottle, was to carry off the whistle as a trophy of victory. The Dane produced credentials of his victories, without a single defeat, at the courts of Copenhagen, Stockholm, Moscow, Warsaw, and several of the petty courts in Germany; and challenged the Scots Bacchanalians to the alternative of trying his prowess, or else of acknowledging their inferiority. After many overthrows on the part of the 1 In Johnson's Museum 66 Wha first beside his chair shall fa'." Evidently a mistake. Scots, the Dane was encountered by Sir Robert Lawrie of Maxwelton, ancestor of the present worthy baronet of that name; who, after three days and three nights' hard contest, left the Scandinavian under the table, And blew on the whistle his requiem shrill.' Sir Walter, son to Sir Robert before mentioned, afterwards lost the whistle to Walter Riddel of Glenriddel, who had married a sister of Sir Walter's." ! — B. The whistle being now in the possession of Captain Riddel, Burns's neighbor at Friars' Carse, it was resolved that he should submit it to an amicable contest, involving, besides himself, two other descendants of the conqueror of the Scandinavian — namely, Mr. Fergusson of Craigdarroch, and Sir Robert Lawrie of Maxwelton, then M. P. for Dumfriesshire. The meeting was to take place at Friars' Carse on Friday the 16th of October. A note was sent to Burns, inviting him to join the party at Carse. He immediately replied in characteristic fashion. The king's poor blackguard slave am I, And scarce dow spare a minute; Or else the devil's in it! can R. B. 1 Mr. C. K. Sharpe has shown from a pedigree of the Maxwelton family that the story of the toping Dane " may be regarded as a groundless fable, unless such a person came over in the train of Prince George of Denmark, the husband of our last Queen Anne, which is not very probable.". 2d edition of Johnson's Musical Museum (1839) iv. 362. |