see how folk live that hae riches;
But surely poor folk maun be wretches.”
Lu. “They’re no sae wretched’s are wad think;
Tho’ constantly on poortith’s brink,
They’re sae accustom’d wi’ the sight,
The view o’t gies them little fright....
The dearest comfort o’ their lives,
Their grushie weans an’ faithfu’ wives:
The prattling things are just their pride,
That sweetens a’ their fire-side....
That merry day the year begins,
They bar the door on frosty win’s;
The nappy reeks wi’ mantling ream,
An’ sheds a heart-inspiring steam;
The luntin’ pipe an’ sneeshin-mill
Are handed round wi’ right good will;
The cantie auld folks crackin’ crouse,
The young anes ranting thro’ the house—
My heart has been sae fain to see them
That I, for joy, hae barkit wi’ them!"...
By this, the sun was out o’ sight,
An’ darker gloamin’ brought the night:
The bum-clock humm’d wi’ lazy drone,
The kye stood rowtin’ i’ the loan;
When up they gat, an’ shook their lugs,
Rejoic’d they were na men but dogs;
An’ each took aff his several way,
Resolv’d to meet some ither day.
But surely poor folk maun be wretches.”
Lu. “They’re no sae wretched’s are wad think;
Tho’ constantly on poortith’s brink,
They’re sae accustom’d wi’ the sight,
The view o’t gies them little fright....
The dearest comfort o’ their lives,
Their grushie weans an’ faithfu’ wives:
The prattling things are just their pride,
That sweetens a’ their fire-side....
That merry day the year begins,
They bar the door on frosty win’s;
The nappy reeks wi’ mantling ream,
An’ sheds a heart-inspiring steam;
The luntin’ pipe an’ sneeshin-mill
Are handed round wi’ right good will;
The cantie auld folks crackin’ crouse,
The young anes ranting thro’ the house—
My heart has been sae fain to see them
That I, for joy, hae barkit wi’ them!"...
By this, the sun was out o’ sight,
An’ darker gloamin’ brought the night:
The bum-clock humm’d wi’ lazy drone,
The kye stood rowtin’ i’ the loan;
When up they gat, an’ shook their lugs,
Rejoic’d they were na men but dogs;
An’ each took aff his several way,
Resolv’d to meet some ither day.
Notes.—wae, sorrowful; maun thole, must endure, must put up with; factor’s snash, agent’s abuse; poind, seize upon, sequester; gear, property; hae, have; no sae, not so; wad, would; poortith, poverty; grushie, of thriving growth, well-grown; weans, children; win’s, winds; nappy, foaming ale; reeks, smokes; ream, cream; luntin’, smoking, emitting smoke; sneeshin-mill, snuff box; cantie, merry; crackin’, conversing; crouse, with good spirits; ranting, running noisily; fain, glad; gloamin’, twilight; bum-clock, beetle (that booms); kye, cows; rowtin’, lowing; loan, milking-place; lugs, ears.
SCOTTISH (Group 8): EDINBURGH.
The following stanzas are from The Farmer’s
Ingle, a poem by
Robert Fergusson (1750-1774), a native of Edinburgh.
Whan gloming grey out o’er the welkin
keeks,
Whan Batie ca’s his
owsen to the byre,
Whan Thrasher John, sair dung, his barn-door
steeks,
And lusty lasses at the dighting
tire:
What bangs fu’ leal the e’enings
coming cauld,
And gars snaw-tappit winter
freeze in vain,
Gars dowie mortals look baith blythe and
bauld,
Nor fley’d wi’
a’ the poortith o’ the plain;
Begin, my Muse, and chant
in hamely strain.