I «r i KS V— ~N. * t^^i ->tj^lL- j? s\A*t ORIGINAL COTTISH RHYMES; WITH HUMOUROUS AND SATIRICAL SONGS. By DAVID WEBSTER, / 1L PAISLEY: CALDWELL AND SON, 2, NEW-STREET. 1835. GIFT POC JAMES B. CHiL-CZRl ^>>^ JULY 26. 1944 fc- THE FOLLOWING LITTLE VOLUME OF SCOTTISH RHYMES IS HUMBLY DEDICATED TO Mr. JOHN M'LEAN, HURLET, BY HIS SINCERE FRIEND, THE AUTHOR. , CONTENTS. Addjress to Fame, -147 Alexander Wilson's Elegy, 145 Ance Bacchus in a Frolic, 158 Blasted Hope, 210 Bowers of Greenlaw, 14 Braes o' Craigmaddie, 189 Burns's Courtship, 11 Cameron's got his wife again,... . Ill Canty Carle , 98 Clear rows the bonny burn o' Awn, 174 Come a' ye Bards, CI I Contemplations and Reflections, 183 'Cripple Flea, 161 (Despairing Bard, 219 Donald Gun, 87 Droll Will Dunbar, 141 Drucken Will Johnston, 42 Duntocher Lasses, 61 Epigram on Johnny Andrews, . . — on Matthew Comb, .... — on Rab Bonner, 144 on Tommy Snek, 160 Epistle to a Friend, 195 to a Youth 168 to Ch F ng, .... 54 to David Webster, 185 to John Fisher, 206 to J. T— h— 11, 104 toW mT n, 87 Epitaph on Davie Deil, 96 Epitaph on J . Cameron, 96 Fanatic's Mirror, 7 Fragment, 143 Fragment, 217 Groans from the Garret, 100 Hameward Willie, 93 Here's to the lads of our Isle, 192 Highlandman's Account of his Maj esty 's Visit to Scotland , . . 35 Irish Song, written in Scotland,. . 204 Jacobus Lurkman, 170 Jock Saut the Cadger, 202 John Tamson's Bairns, 18 Kilwinning Lasses, 130 Lads frae Craignaught and the Police, 103 Let us be merry a', 127 Lovely Nancy Shearer, 123 Mad Maid, 12 Maid o' Mosswallow , 85 March of Intellect, 155 Meg Meikle John, 62 Miller o' Doon, 129 Miller o' Partick, 17 Minstrel, 63 Minstrel's Dirge, 173 Mournfu' Ditty, 199 Mungo Martin, 9 National Song, 20 Near the cot on yonder brae, .... CO Now simmer days, G3 Ode to Alexander Wilson, 49 Ode to the memory of Burns,. . . . 131 Ode to the memory of Tannahill, 33 O lassie why rows that round tear from thine eye, 219 OnG M 48 On Garnock's banks, r 41 O its gleefu' to glide, 9 On a summer evening, 122 O sweet were the hours, 45 On seeing a bigot laid in the grave, 112 O smile on me, 116 O Mar>- dinna gang frae me, .... 172 O wha wad leave, 53 Pastoral Song, 183 Paisley Fair, 3 Paisley Pate to Davie o' Dum- blane, 123 Paisley Races, 193 Pate Birnie, 59 Pedantic Bodie, 125 Proverbs, 211 Rab Kicky's Epitaph, 64 RadicalWar, 30 Reflections of Tannahill, 29 Renfrew Fair, 81 Robin's Jock cam to woo our Jenny, 40 Rorie More, 113 Rorie Murphy 26 Rowand's Club, 117 Row the Boatie to the Shore, 21 Row smoothly thou bonny blue sea, 46 Sandy M'Nab, 56 Sally' M'Lurkan, 86 Sarah's Lamentation, 137 See the lovely moon, 28 Shipwrecked Sailor, 218 Soldier's Dream, 46 Solemn dirge on the death of Alex. Wilson 216 Song in the old ballad style, .... 58 ii 48 64 177 190 59 47 140 215 220 55 49 112 175 64 166 214 133 164 114 94 176 15 165 22 212 92 124 Sour Milk Man's description of a Sunk wi' a sair and sullied con- Tak it man, tak it, The Cloud o' Night, The Maid o' Walkinshaw, The wise men's saying, Tibbie's MoUvgrant, Truisms, ...'. "Twas simmer, a' the fields were Verses on an intimate acquaint- ance of the Author, Verses in Memory of J. Cameron Verses on the doe Watty, Verses on Wm. Eddison, Washerwife's Son, We'll sing o' the mortal, What means that sigh, Wha wadna be blythe, When our gvdeman comes hame Witches o' Dumbarton, Wholesome Advice to a Priest,. . Ye'll hae heard o' a cheiL, Ve'll hae 6een, bonny lass, SONGS, &c. PAISLEY FAIR. Serenely the morning was dawning', The suny beams raise ow'er the hill ; Our beasts stood a 1 rowting and yawning - , By the side of a summer dry'd rill. The larks in the lift they were singing-, In notes baith harmonious and shrill ; And round me the woodlands were ringing To the clack of a neebouring mill. Then quoth I to my auld aunty Peggy, The morning's sae bonny and clear, Troth 111 e'en gang and saddle my naigie, And ride in to see Paisley Fair. But quo 1 she man ye're lucky light headed, Or else ye've grown lazy and slack ; Kens thou that at hame thou'll be needed, To help us to big the peat stack. But quo* I, the hearst on us is drawings We'll be toiling frae morning till dark, Trouth its either aye sawing or mawing, A young cheil gets naething but wark. Then I drew frae the boost the bit kibbock, And took to mysel' a bit whang — Wi' some bannocks weel baked by Tibbock, Wha's e'en been our servant sae lana - . Then I gied my beast warring and corning, Wi' twa heaped hanfu" o' beans — Hae, quo" I, tak thee that for thy ccrning, 'Twill help to put strength in thy banes. Then aff I cam cheery and merry, I galloped down the lang lone — And soon met wi 1 mae in a hurry, A' makm* best speed to the town. There was Tam that wins down in the hallow, W i' haveral Jock Hodge frae Brae Side; W i 1 iheir doxes cl inttl'ects shallow, Mair scrim pit o' sense than o" pride. There was Peggy wi* een aye sae pawky, That bides at the head o" the glen ; And Nelly that thriftless gowky Wha's siller entices the men. Then quo" Tammy, quo* he, quo' Tammy, How's a the day, Willie M'Nair? I thank thee, quo* 1 to Tammy, And thou'll be for seeing the fair. And then, quo" Jock Hodge, quo" Johnny, As he turn'd round his red face — And thou'll be for trying thy pouney, Nae doubt at the thirty pound race. Now frae ilka by road they were thranging — Baith blind folk and lame, folk and weans; And straight to the fair they were ganging, And striddlen o'er hillocks and stanes. Then some o' them thought on their duddies, And ither's o' them on their crimes — But the maist thing that troubled the bodies, I think was their hungry wanies. We arriv'd man and stabled our horses — Syne a luncheon we took for support ; Then securing- our lang necked purses, Took a dauner to see a 1 the sport. And while we stood gaping- and staring, To a poor bodie singing- a sang:, Quo' a hizzie, Will buy rue my fairing — Losh ! thou kens thou has promised it lang. But the Corse it was a" in a bubble O" confusion and perfect uproar; Sae wV punch man we puslrd thro' the rabble, Till we cam' the length o' the score — There were dolts man and dinsome deceivers, Wha like statesmen impose upon man; And some silver-bunting believers, Wha catch a" the cash that they can. Now one by the wa'-side was wailing, "Gude christians, help an auld man;" While M'Adam was rantin 1 and railing, The cheapest goods under the sun. Here's veils for auld maids wrinkled faces, The cheapest and best here awa ; With Waterloo ribbons and laces, And penkniv es for naething ava. There was darners and clippers, and flowerers, Wi 1 bleachers ftf trig frae the braes — Wi 1 scogies, and cooks, and tambourers, Wha's clatter was a' on their claes. Braw lasses — but losh man their faces, We scarce got a peep o' ava ; Sae hidden they were in big cases, Or capes made o' strae, some said straw. But some roar'd the race was beginning — Hech Sirs sic a hullibaloo ; Frae taverns and tents they were rinning Some sober, and ithers blin fou. Then some roard the hindmost was foremost, And roos'd a Kilbirnie bit beast ; But I swore the first wad be foremost, Or that he wad be second at least. Neist we heard the wild beasts all a howling, And wild fools beginning to squake ; There a gowk 'bout the elephant was bawling, That it could do a' things but speak. Sae Nanny was oxterd wi" Tammy, And Nell}* ni 1 muckle Jock Hodge; Sae we drew out our siller fu' canny, And paid to win in wi" a grugde. The elephant stood in a closet, And whether for hunger or greed I kentna, but ay the big nose o*t Was wagging for bawbees and bread. Now as we stood staring and glowring, The lasses were shaking wi" fear Losh to see the big serpent devouring As meikle meat's sairt for There were fiddlers, and filers, and drummers, Wha play'd fur bawbees in a neuk ; With pipers, and droners, and bummers, And dogs that could dance by the beuk. But quo" Tarn, as we stood wi the tawpies, And leugh at the merryman"s tale, Deed, lassies, I'm e"en growing gawpish, We maun hae some buns and some ale. Syne resolved on a bit and a drappie — And be blythe as our daddies of yore, We daunert to mak oursels happy, Into wee Jamie Smith's* at the Score. There ae core was hauding a loudey, What neist they wad hae for to drink ; While some o' the tousy and tawdry, Were schemin' the way to get clink. At length we fell a' to the prancing, And louping like fools in the floor ; Sae wi 1 fiddling and diddling, and dancing, The house was in perfect uproar. But the sun in the west now was sinking, And gloamin 1 began for to fa' ; Grown tired wi 1 their daffing and drinking, Deed I thocht man I'd just come awa. Sae now I'm come hame, gude be thanket, To tak tent o 1 my grandmother's gear; I had but sax groats, tho' I drank it, Od, I'll surely win ow'rt in a year. But the first time I gang to the smiddie, As on Saturday teen I'll be there ; Gosh I'll gar them a' laugh round the study, Wi' the humours o 1 Paisley Fair. THE FANATICS MIRROR. Ecclefechan bodies a', Ecclefechan bodies a', Gude faith ye're devils in a thraw, You Ecclefechan bodies a\ • James Smith was, at the time this poem or ryhme was wrote, \ respectable and jocular innkeeper there, in whose house the mthor hns passed many happy hours. 8 If chance your pastor taks a drap, Ye flee like ravens on his tap — Ye ca* him drinker, drone and a', You Ecclefechan bodies a". And some amang ye waur design'd, Say that he's carnally inclin'd ; While the drap drink that synes his maw, Gets a' the wyte o 1 that and a\ The man is learned and divine, And ever spiritually inclin'd — But void o 1 gospel, sense, or law, Are Ecclefechan bodies a. Altho* he strives your minds to please, And gie your sinful souls a heeze; Nae man could please, no since the fa', You Ecclefechan bodies a\ Some cry for rain, some cry for drouth, Some wish north winds, some wish for south; While some want neither frost nor snaw, Vile discontented bodies a\ The poor chiel coudna fill your wants — He tauld his waes to ither saints ; Wha curs'd the noddles great and sma' Of Ecclefechan bodies a\ The Presbyfry began to yell, And threaten" d you wi* words o* hell — Ye didna care their threats a straw, But bade them tak the drone awa. Priests may preach and scribes may jaw — Sodgers may shoot — L— d waur than a' — Or ye wad shrink, or yield a flaw, You Ecclefechan bodies a\ 9 O could some chiel but turn the chace, And save a wild degenerate race, Some bard may chance be sav'd and a' Through Ecclefechan bodies thraw. But if they're doom'd by hook or crook, To gang to yon sulphuric neuk, Begin some dour religious thraw, Wha kens they'll fear the deil awa. Ecclefechan bodies, &c. SONG. To an Irish air. O its gleefu' to glide o'er the bonny blue sea, While the wee waves merrily play ; And hum a sweet sang o' some love-beaming e'e, As the bark gently heaves on her way And its joyfu' to land on a far rocky isle, And listen the mountaineers sang — Then feast for a while on the mountain-maid's smile, And the words frae her artless tongue. Then how pleasing the hour in the turf-cover'd bower, Where the een speak the heart sae free ; While the white waves roar on the rock-bounded shore, Is drowned by the sound of our glee. But 'tis sweeter to float upon morning tide, And skim o'er the wee waves to hame — Then sit gleefully down by our ain ingle side, And reap our past joys in a dream. MUNGO MARTIN. O saw ye Mungo Martin, Or stood ye at his study ; 10 What was his news to sic as those, Wha loung'd about his smiddie. Deed I saw Mungo — and his gab Gaed just as fasfs his hammer; And ay he roos'd ane plowman Rab, Who was a famous rhymer. Rab cheers the auld, he charms the young, Sets a 1 our hearts a babbin, Auld Scotland lang will shine in sang, And a' by dint o' Robin. Quoth Mungo, tho* the English louns, Can brag- o" meikle matter — Auld Scotland has within her bounds A chiel that's far their better. I'll swear by a" aboon the clod, And a* beneath the water, Our plowman loon will waur them a" At either sang or satire. When tyrants wr oppressive law, Our country rights were seizing — Then Rab wi' patriotic jaw Gied a" sic tykes a teizing. That o-ift they ca 1 poetic fire, In Bob was ever bleezing; He set their names in ruefu" raw, With laughable derision. Tho' bigotry abuse him, Wi' sour and sumphish sighing, A ? learned folk allows him Maist wisdom in the clachan. Yestreen his book perusing, When I had got my brochau, 11 Rab's wit in sic profusion, Keep'd a the bodies laughing;. With wieldy verse and jingling He sings o" 1 muirs and mosses ; With sublimities ay minglin*, \, He flashes and he flushes. As from the height Nigaria, Yon flood o* water gushes ; Frae Robin's percranium, The ready roundles rushes. But had ye seen the gleefu' group, That round the anvil gaped, Resolved to hear \vr open mouths, Just as their lugs were staped. Quoth ane, what do they ca" the book, For surely its a gude ane ; Quo' anither, quo* he, I'll buy the book, And I shall hae a reading. Then Mungo wi' a mirky face, And arm as teugh's a wudy, Confirm'd a* true that he had said, Wi 1 a thump upon his study. But Mungo Martin had grown dry Thro* extra jaw and jobbin", And he wad drink the plowman's health, And sae did we to Robin. Rob cheers the auld, &c. BURNS COURTSHIP. The Sun had just dipt his red cheek on the ocea, And seem'd as if playing keekbo wi 1 the moon ; 12 While the bonny maid moon wi' an e'e o' devotion, Was scarce a Scotch ell in the karry aboon. The bonny wee stars had begun a' to twinkle, And keek through the clouds that were hovering' around. And the bells o 1 auld Ayr had begun for to tinkle, Ae I met wi' my love on the banks o' the Doon. The lassie had stown frae a braw bleezing ingle, Unkent to the joes that at gloamin conven'd ; Sae we took our retreat down a lone bushes dingle, To tell our love tales in the howe o' the glen. The summer's salt breezes had sleeped on the moun- tain. And gentle the sough o' the far ocean swell, Then naething was heard but the clear siller fountain, That croon'd to the echoes that rung in the dell. The burnie was smooth, save the bonny wee dimple That rose on its face as it row'd to the sea ; And how lovely its sang round the rocks as it wimpl'd, 'Twas soothings the sound o' the sweet fairy lay. And we felt the perfume o' the dew-silvered blossoms, By the cool zephyr breath'd as itwander'd the scene; But I list'ned a tale frae ane artless young bosom, That surpassed ilka sweet on the banks o' the Doon. THE MAD MAID. A mad maid had a sang Of a curious twang, That she sang to a tune of her ain — But it jumilt and jainilt, It wimilt and wamilt, 13 And aim'd aye at something in vain. The lines o't were crucket, And nicked and nucket, In a manner 1 scarce can explain — But theyjoukit and jinkit, The way they were linkit, Or cam frae some droll bodies brain. This maid in her maze, When the sun show'd his blaze, Sat and cruined by the fire wi' the cat. And ay when the moon Had grown meikle and round, She sang- to the owl and the bat ; But when Cynthia had gane 'Tween the earth and the sun, And seem'd as in dumps wilh our world, This maid mair sedat, She span and she spat, With her spin'le, her roke, and her horle. The priest of the parish Pretended to nourish This maid that was wrang- in the mind ; But as care of her sense Cost him little expense, In that he was oftenest kind ; Ye'll agree an advice, Tho' baith wholesome and nice, Might be mend wi' a mixture of food — But the loun gied her lear With a screed of a prayer, When a luncheon wad done her mair gude. u Ae moon-shining night, When her head wasna right, And her stomach wi' hunger was sore; Weel row'd in a sheet, Wi* twa feet that were fleet She enter'd the clergyman's door ; From a weel cover'd table A' fled that were able, While some fell in swoons on the floor ; Left the boil and the roast For the gude o' the ghost, Wha escap'd with the basket and store. She took a* ehe could get, JBaith the cauld and the het, That was term'd a bit or a drap; She put in her coatie, That was tattered and sooty, And out by the lobby she lap. The beef and the lamb, The cheese and the ham, Might been carried wi' some sort of ea«e; But the tea and the jelly, Ran thro' on her bellie, And scaudit the poor bodies' thighs. THE BOWERS OF GREENLAW. "Tvvas summer — Nature's face was dress'd In Flora's flow'ry robes sac braw ; Dark clouds were louring in the east, And gloamin grey began to fa*. The sun had beam'd his part: The zephyrs cool began to blaw — 15 The mavis sang farewell to day, Amang thy bonny bowers, Greenlaw. 'Twas then I trac'd thy leafy bowers, And press'd thy dew-enamePd shaw, With her, the fairest of thy flowers, Now from my bosom torn awa. And even when winter's dreary gloom The hills and dales had clad with snaw, My fav'rite flow'r was aye in bloom, Amang thy lovely bowers, Greenlaw ! O wae betide her artfu' wyles ! And wae on fickle fortune's thraw ! Her cheeks, her een, and O ! her smiles, Thro' life had been my joys o'er a*. Now when I seek thy chosen scene, Where warblers chaunt around thy ha'. Sae waefu' I maun stray alane, 'Reft o* thy fairest flower, Greenlaw ! Yet will I wander frae the town, And muse on nature's beauties a' ; To see the summer sun gae down And twilight's dusky curtain draw. Soon flattering Hope, on Fancy's wing, Will banish former cares awa ; Of some true heart I yet may sing, Amang thy bonny bowers, Greenlaw ! SONG. Am — " Contented wi little, and cantie wt' mair." Wha wadna be blyther o'er a cogie o' ale, Wha wad luik sour at a humourous tale, 16 And wha when his neebour was dowie and sad, O wha wadna strive to make his heart glad. Wha wadna be cheerM wi' an auld Scottish sang, And wha wi' gude fellows, O wha wad think lang; And wha when we wish the downfa' o' our faes, O ! wha wadna join us wi' hearty huzzas. Awa ilka camseugh and hard-hearted loun, Ye fretfu' ye calous wi' hearts ne'er in tune ; Awa' ye unsocial — ye misers awa', Ye're strangers to pleasure to friendship and a'. Let luxury flow in the ha's o' the great ; Let the hearts o' ambition g-ang wrestle wi' fate; Tho' course be our fare, and tho' humble our shed, O'er the fruits of our labour we'll ever be glad. The gentry may slight us, and say that we're rude, And ca' us the rabble — the ignorant crowd; But where comes their riches, their learning, and shaw, It's the poor working body wha pays for it a*. Gude kens we hae teachers and preachers enou', Wha wi* dreepends and steepends are a' bet and fu ; But what wad they do for a kirk or a creed, Giff it werena wark bodies wha g'e them their bread. When the tree o' corruption shall wither and fa', W T hen oppressors shall fail to baud us at the wa' ; O'er our tithes and our taxes we'll cease to repine, And be blythe brave and free like our daddies lang- 1 syne. Then let us be blythe o'er a cogie o' yill, Round the stoup and the cappy let friendship prevail May the sunshine o' freedom shame tyrants awa, Soon to gladen the hearts wha maun slave for them 33 | ODE TO THE MEMORY OF TANNAHILL . ;Tis" not of battles that my muse now sings ; Traitors, nor tyrants, meeting their delists ; ^s T or towns laid waste, the baser %ats of ki^s ; But thatanore fitting more refined hearts. BS T or is't o'er palaces slie spreads *her wings, brandeu* nor 'titles, baubles of the great; |S T or titles, nor iaxmen, nor such hateful things ; Something mofie lovely does my mind elate. •Nor is't of rambler, fop, nor sycophant, — [Those dinsome butterflies on life's vain stage, — Nor is't of ignorant devotees I vaunt, Such trifles never shall adorn my page. Nor am I -bound to drudge at satire Jeen, Tho' that which suits my end must suit my will ; Nor am I fij£d with flattery nor spleen ; But 1 -would