Page:The poetical works of Robert Burns.djvu/136
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THE POEMS OF BURNS.
This was deny'd, it was affirm'd;
The herds an' hissels were alarm'd:
The rev'rend gray-beards rav'd an' storm'd,
That beardless laddies
Should think they better were inform'd
Than their auld daddies.
The herds an' hissels were alarm'd:
The rev'rend gray-beards rav'd an' storm'd,
That beardless laddies
Should think they better were inform'd
Than their auld daddies.
Frae less to mair it gaed to sticks;
Frae words an' aiths to clours an' nicks;
An' monie a fallow gat his licks,
Wi' hearty crunt;
An' some, to learn them for their tricks,
Were hang'd an' brunt.
Frae words an' aiths to clours an' nicks;
An' monie a fallow gat his licks,
Wi' hearty crunt;
An' some, to learn them for their tricks,
Were hang'd an' brunt.
This game was play'd in monie lands,
An' auld-light caddies bure sic hands,
That, faith, the youngsters took the sands
Wi' nimble shanks,
The lairds forbad, by strict commands,
Sic bluidy pranks.
An' auld-light caddies bure sic hands,
That, faith, the youngsters took the sands
Wi' nimble shanks,
The lairds forbad, by strict commands,
Sic bluidy pranks.
But new-light herds gat sic a cowe,
Folk thought them ruined stick-an-stowe,
Till now amaist on ev'ry knowe
Ye'll find ane plac'd;
An' some, their new-light fair avow,
Just quite barefac'd.
Folk thought them ruined stick-an-stowe,
Till now amaist on ev'ry knowe
Ye'll find ane plac'd;
An' some, their new-light fair avow,
Just quite barefac'd.
Nae doubt the auld-light flocks are bleatin;
Their zealous herds are vex'd an' sweatin;
Mysel, I've even seen them greetin
Wi' girnin spite,
To hear the moon sae sadly lie'd on
By word an' write.
Their zealous herds are vex'd an' sweatin;
Mysel, I've even seen them greetin
Wi' girnin spite,
To hear the moon sae sadly lie'd on
By word an' write.
But shortly they will cowe the louns!
Some auld light herds in neebor towns
Are mind't, in things they ca' balloons,
To tak a flight,
An' stay ae month amang the moons,
An' see them right.
Some auld light herds in neebor towns
Are mind't, in things they ca' balloons,
To tak a flight,
An' stay ae month amang the moons,
An' see them right.
Guid observation they will gie them;
An' when the auld moon's gaun to lea'e them,
The hindmost shaird, they'll fetch it wi' them,
Just i' their pouch,
An' when the new-light billies see them,
I think they'll crouch!
An' when the auld moon's gaun to lea'e them,
The hindmost shaird, they'll fetch it wi' them,
Just i' their pouch,
An' when the new-light billies see them,
I think they'll crouch!
Sae, ye observe that a' this clatter
Is naething but a 'moonshine matter;'
But tho' dull-prose folk Latin splatter
In logic tulzie,
I hope, we Bardies ken some better
Than mind sic brulzie.
Is naething but a 'moonshine matter;'
But tho' dull-prose folk Latin splatter
In logic tulzie,
I hope, we Bardies ken some better
Than mind sic brulzie.
EPISTLE TO JOHN RANKINE, ENCLOSING SOME POEMS.
O rough, rude, ready-witted Rankine,
The wale o' cocks for fun an' drinkin!
There's mony godly folks are thinkin,
Your dreams an' tricks
Will send you, Korah-like, a-sinkin,
Straught to auld Nick's.
The wale o' cocks for fun an' drinkin!
There's mony godly folks are thinkin,
Your dreams an' tricks
Will send you, Korah-like, a-sinkin,
Straught to auld Nick's.
Ye hae sae monie cracks an' cants,
And in your wicked, druken rants,
Ye mak a devil o' the saunts,
An' fill them fou;
And then their failings, flaws, an' wants,
Are a' seen thro'.
And in your wicked, druken rants,
Ye mak a devil o' the saunts,
An' fill them fou;
And then their failings, flaws, an' wants,
Are a' seen thro'.
Hypocrisy, in mercy spare it!
That holy robe, O dinna tear it!
Spare't for their sakes wha aften wear it,
The lads in black;
But your curst wit, when it comes near it,
Rives't aff their back.
That holy robe, O dinna tear it!
Spare't for their sakes wha aften wear it,
The lads in black;
But your curst wit, when it comes near it,
Rives't aff their back.
Think, wicked sinner, wha ye're skaithing,
It's just the blue-gown badge an' claithing
It's just the blue-gown badge an' claithing