PI THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES FREDERIC THOMAS BLANCHARD ENDOWMENT FUND THOUGHTS ON THE SEASONS, &c. THOUGHTS O N T H E SEASON S, &c. PARTLY IN THE SCOTTISH DIALECT, B Y DAVID DAVIDSON. " Ferque novum Jlabat cinttum florente corona : " Stabat nuda /Eftas, et fpicea ferta gerebat : " Stabat et Autumnus^ calcatis fordldus uvis : " Et glacialh Hyems^ canos hirfuta capillos." OVID MET. LONDON: PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR; And fold by J. MURRAY, No. sz, Fleet-Street; and W.CREECH, Edinburgh. MDCCLXXXIX. THE PREFACE, H O U G H the World fliould in reading the following Sheets, I fhall not weep becaufe I have written them. But, I prefume, it is only from my coun- trymen that the laugh can come, (for, fure- ly, none will be fool enough to ridicule what he does notfulfy underftand) and the fatisfadion is but fmall in one Scotchman fatyrizing another. The fame things pleafe not all men. 'Tis as queer to be diflatisfied with another's way of writing, as it is to challenge him for having a brown beard, becaufe 7S5737 vi PREFACE, becaufe his is a black one. Every man in his humour mine is obvious. The Ro- man Senators had, their Auditors ; the Stoick Philosophers, their Followers \ and, why may not a Caledonian Bard be attend- ed by, his Admirers ? To deny him the privilege (at leaft the hope) would be bar- barous. While fome affect the path of fplendid life, others, lefs pleafed with great things, love to trace the fteps of the cottager ; and, among woods, and rocks, and ftreams, ad- mire the fcenes of Nature, undifguifed. That I have expreffed my thoughts partly in my native dialect, was my incli- nation. PREFACE. vii nation. Let not this inclination condemn the production ; for, the worth of a ftory confifts not merely in, the language in which it is told. The chafte, the harmonious Thomfon, when his profpeft extended but little be- yond the walls of Kenfington Gardens, could circumvene the fkirts of the Gram- pian Hills there purfue the vagrant ram, from his fold to the mountain conduct the bleating lamb from the hill, to its dam in the vale view the finny race fporting in the purling cryftal ftream and, with the 'herd-boy, chafe the fly-flung heifer, " low bellowing round the hills." With v iii PREFACE. With a prolpedi, not more extenfive than Thomfon's, I have circumven'd the hil- locks of my natal foil mark'd the procefs of the acorn to the oak attended the bee from the hive to the heathy hill and fol- lowed the duckling from the egg to the ocean. Throughout the whole, I have endeavoured to copy Nature. Little, therefore, is farther neceflary by way of Preface, in defence of my Book ; or, to keep it in countenance, if the unprejudiced admirers of Nature can find in it only, that the tale is not artful. SPRING. T T AIL, lovely Spring ! thy bonny lyart face, And head wi' plumrocks deck'd, befpeak the fun's Return to blefs this ifle, and cheer her fprouts. Who can wi' fafety murmur at his lot, Or girn at Providence, whom Heaven has fpar'd Frae a' the weary wreck o' winter's wafte, To keek at Spring ? Life lengthen'd is a gift. The torrent's fugh is hufh'd, the fpate is done The fwelled brook is dwindled to a burn. No wreaths o' fnow now on the hills are feen, Nor, ba's like pyramids, upo' the plain. Soft- blowing winds diflblve the icy clods, And cou'ters mine behind the flurdy fleers. The little fecklefs bee, wi' pantry toom, And hinny-crock ev'n wi' the laggin lick'd, B Long 2 SPRING. Long looking for black Beltan's wind to blaw$ Drops frae his waxen cell upo' the ftane The funny beams peep though his narrow porch, Wi' fklentin caft and wi' reviving pow'r Beftir his feeble joints. In gladfome frifk He eyes the bonny day and, bizzing, tries To trim his little wings, to walk, to fly. Now fquintin at the fun, he takes a ften Wi' ardent bir, and pitches on a ftraw. Then rifing hence, he wheels around the ikep To try his pith, Syne, on the riggin lights Proud o' his growing ftrength he bums on high ; And, fkimmtng round, unto the brae he flies, And lights upon a gowan wi' his trunk He fcoops the yellow ftore refrefh'd at e'en 'He, blythe returns wi' forage on his hips. His brother bees around him run in troops, To prie the new-earn'd fweets and, farley a' To fee fie gaucy thighs, fie yellow bum. Induftrious race ! without or kirk or fchool, Ye SPRING. $ Ye learn arts, and preach morality ! Would men but learn frae you, wee winfome elves, They'd be more frugal lefs to knav'ry prone. Now frae their cribs the tarry gimmers trot, And, fpread around the faulds, to crop the blade Of tender grafs, or thriving waly. Some Afcend the till and, ftraying far afield, 'Mong fcroggy braes, or lonely rocky glens, Seek out a lamming place. Upo' the cliff Within a hallow craig where none dare go, The eagle has his haunt a royal neft Bequeath'd to him and his, fmce time unken'd - There to the beetling rock he hefts his prey, Of lam or hare, ta'en frae the vale below. Upo' the brow he fits, and, round him deals, Unto his unfledg'd fons, the flefhy feaft Himfelf wi' penches ftaw'd, he dights his neb, And to the fun, in drowfy mood, fpreads out His boozy tail. Right o'er the fteep he leans, When his well-plenifh'd king-hood voiding needs ; B 2 And 4 SPRING. And, fploiting, ftrikes the ftane his grany hit, Wi' piftol fcreed, {hot frae his gorlin doup. Now midway in the air the buzzard fkims, The ftaney dale, fu' gleg upon his prey. Wi' hungry maw he fcoors frae knowe to knowe, In hopes of food in mowdy, moufe, or flreaw. As o'er the birny brae mayhap he wheels, The linties cour wi' fear and, frae his branch, Whereon he fat and fang, the mavis pops Into the thorny brake his fmging fpoil'd. If chance upon an afh above the lin, A hoody has her neft on feeing the gled Approach too near her bounds, down on the foe She darts, wi' wicked fkraich fyne, at his tail, Frae 'mang the fcroggs, the yorlins fly in cluds, Like tykes upon a beggar. Down the glen, Far from the tread of any human foot, Upon a blafted oak, the croaking ra'en, Fell thief o' gofling brood, has his retreat. The cloken hen, when frae the kipple-fit She SPRING. 5 She breaks her tether, to the midden rins Wi' a'her burds about her, fyking fain, To fcrape for mauks and little ducks and geefe Rin todlin on the green, a' free frae fear. Down in a han-clap comes the corby cock, Upo' the middin tap, and, wi' a twirl Snaps frae his mither's hip the fav'rite chick. Faft off he flies wi' burdie in his clutch, Far 'hind unto his nefl and, 'fore his mate, Lays, the delicious meltit war's proclaim'd Againft the corby race and glens and heughs Are hunted for the cockrel but in vain. Meanwhile twa 'herds upo' the finny brae Forgathering, ftraught down on tammocks clap Their nether ends, and, talk their unco's o'er Auld farnyear ftories come athwart their minds, Of bum-bee bykes, pet pyats, doos, and keaws, An' a' the winfome fports that 'herds are prone to. While at their tauk fae thrang, upo' the bank Juft at their feet, alights the corby craw, B 3 And 6 SPRING. And frae his hillan the poor mowdy whups They mark the way he takes, when quick as fint, Adown the darkfome glen he wheels, and, on His aerie lights. Rejoiced at the fight, They brattle to the brow whence, they defcry Upon a blighted afh, above a pqol, The fum of prefent hopes a plenifh'd nefl. Straight down the jfteep they Hide wi' canny care, Ilk at the other's en', frae ftump to ftane, For fear o' donfy whirl into the ftream ; . Syne, up ane fpeels, and, in the wooly haunt, Wi' dizzy eyes, he views the fpreckled ftore. Forth frae the nefl the warm treafure's drawn, And, in his bonnet flung hence homeward they Poft, peghing, wi' their fpoil. The pingle-pan Is on the ingle fet into the flood Of firey frith the lyart gear is caft, And addled eggs, and burdies without doups, Play round, promifcuous, in the boiling pool, A' ftiff'ning to a pafte by dint o' flame. Hence SPRING. 7 Hence in the nefl replac'd, the wa'fu ra'en Muft, ere fhe clock them, travel to the eaft, Unto the burn that through auld Eden rins, * Where Adam and his Wife, as ftory tells, Did plant their bow-kail, and the garden delve ; And thence, fetch frae the brook, a yellow ftane, To chip the fhell. The fun, bra honeft light ! Now o'er the lift a larger circuit takes ; Gets fooner out o' bed, goes later ly, And, by his kindly pow'r upo' the riggs Makes briers and dockens grow. The farmer, ere The cock had craw'd day, or the ducks had drate, Upo' the hallan-ftane, ca's frae his cot The drowfy callan wi' unwilling ftep He ftalks the bent, wi' fcarrow o' the moon, To tend hisjteecy care. Upo' the glebe, Soon as the day glents ruddy frae the Eaft, The ploughman flrides, and, frae his wauked loof Flings forth the yellow grain, into the lap O' th' fallow'd field. The harrows yok'd, and, now, B 4 Baivfy, 8 SPRING. Bawfy, reluctant, tears the breckan roots Harfh, fpaul frae fpaul, and fhuts the fawing fcene. Bright, dainty Heaven ! " be gracious now that man Has done his part" ye warm breezes blow ! Ye drizzling fhow'rs decend ! but frae the fields May white fair-farren frofts keep far awa. Thou hot-fac'd fun ! who chears the drooping warld, And gars the buntlins throttle, by thy pow'r, Look laughing frae thy fky and, with thy heat Temper the fcatter'd clods, and, fouder all Into the perfect year. Nor gentles a* Who live in pancake biggins, rich an' fine, In bonny hinni'd fields, by whofe door-ftane Braid ftrans o' butter rin who ne'er have felt The fling o' empty wyme, nor poverty, : Think thefe loft themes unworthy of your ear." Sic fangs as thae, the heather headed bard * Of Scotland, ranted, as he trod the glebe ; And, Caledonia's tafle thought it nae fhame To croon the o'er-word. Kings, time 'moft forgot, * Burns. Them- SPRING. Themfelves delighted vvi' their taes to tread, The fall ow'd fur' behind the bended flare. Bra healthfu' toil ! well worth the care o' Kings. With thee, Dependance never had a place. Scepter'd hands may a' their power difplay ; f And, dorty minds may luxury admire O'er fceptres fock ! thou bearft the gree awa With thee, corruption is a fremmit name. " Te generous Britons venerate the plough !" And, let your braes frae, Bafs to utmoft Tbule, Wave wi' the Jlaves of life, the wheaten flalks ; That, every needy pilgrim on his way, May find fupport throughout the ftaney vale, And, get a heezy o'er the fleugh o' want. Not o'er the corny riggs alone, the fun Spreads forth his yellow rays the benty brow Nods wi' luxuriant heather, in whofe fkirts, The churlin moor -cock woes his valentine, Couring coyim to his fidelin tread. Up 10 SPRING. Up the meand'ring ftream the verdure rins, And, lilies fpread their foliage to the day. Rankly fprings the rum around the pool, And, faugh-trees bloiTom on ilk burn brae Unfolding by degrees their leafy items, The cat-tails whiten through the verdant bog. All-vivifying Nature does her work (Though flow, yet, fure) not like a racklefs coof O' prentice wabfter lad, who breaks his fpool, And, waftes the waft upo' a mis-rid purn 5 But, like a miftrefs o' her trade, fhe weaves Through flem and leaf, the vegetative pow'r ; Till, the fu' flow'red bank difplays a fight Of crawfoots, bowing wi' luxuriant nod. On banks like thae array'd, oft let me walk, And, meditate on Him who cleacS the yeard Wi' fie bra flow'ry drefs and, who regards, Wi' faithfu' care, the work o' faithlefs man. On banks like thae, amang the rifing tribe >' SPRING. n O' Sprigs and Walys, Contemplation grows.- There, Meditation fprings up wi' the elm On's airy top afpires to Providence -, And, with the bri'r, creeps to him on the ground. Upo' the juicy bark now infects prey, And, flrive the embryo fruit i'th' bud to kill. Thefe to deftroy be't now thy watchfu' care. The linny rays wide blinking on the wa' In noon-day height, lead frae their winter cells The fable race o clocks and, vernal warmths, Defcending, roufe, the pifmires and, from His flimy hole entice, the capped fnail Wight deftructive ! by thy eating power The gard'ner's labor's loft, and, a' the hopes O' plenty perifhes beneath thy wyme. Black troops o' midges floating on the breeze, To fome warm nook repair, where calmnefs reigns ; And, there, wi' finging din, and frifky flianks, Dance round the bayes, like pipers at a wake ; And, play their gambols in the finny beams. Of X2 SPRING. Of thefe beware. Faft o'er the verdant leaf Thefoofy bitter caft, or, midft the throng O' infedts hiv'd, pour forth the wat'ry death. 'Twas in this infant feafon of the year, When, ducks a paddock-hunting fcour the bog, And, powheads fpartle in the oofy flofti ; That Donald, tir'd wi' lang-kail in a mun, At's ain fire fide, long'd for the flipp'ry food, And dainty cleading o' fome unken'd land. Long had he dream'd o' wealth and, riches bra, In unco climes ; but, frae his friends had kept The winfome fecret. On the hill-top he Us'd oft' to walk, and, fighing, take farewell O' a' the bonny glens, the finny braes, And, nei'brin booricks, where he danc'd and fang - Now loofmg beauty in his wayward look. Oft downward to the Weft he'd watch the fan, And, think within himfel " If I could once Reach, fafe, the fouthern fhore, to Mexico Or SPRING. 13 Or old Peru, among the diftant woods, Where chiels wi' footy fkins, an* yill-caup een, Hae their abodes who routh o' riches fin', Nought knowing of their worth who for a knife Or penny whiffle, will part wi' their gold In gopinfu's or, for a roofty nail Will fwap their faireft gem." On this he thought, And, what he thought at day, at night he dream'd But, nor his dady nor his mither ken'd The lad's intent nor what great fiore o' wealth, In fpeculation, he had hoarded up Till ae ftill e'en', as faft upo' his bed The lad, in (lumber wrap'd, tracing the vein O' yellow ore through many dreamy fcenes, Upftarting to his centre, mutter'd long, In broken tone, the fubjecl: o' his plan 5 Which being o'erheard, his little titta Jean Cries, " Dad, our Donald dreams !" fyne, by his tae Takes hold and, plain's my thum' he fays,'* Peru" Moor- I4 SPRING. Moorland Willie and his wife Liv'd bienly near Strathboggy Nay ither way did they feed life Than, frae a timmer coggy Contented he, kind hearted fhe Their plans did ever jingle And, aaier by any o'er the lea .A Were ever feen to pingle, 'Bout flraes, that day.< While hale and fear, wi' his twa han's He kept the crowdy gawin - And wad hae kemp'd wi' any man At dyking, or at mawing. Sae fnug they liv'd on what they earn'd, That, nane were e'er mair happy And, when great folks at ither girn'd, drown'd their care in nappy Fu' brown, that day. . A fon SPRING. I5 A fon they had whafe name was Gib, A lad o' muckle gumflieon Who cou'd rin o'er the Greek fu' glib, Or, count pints in a puncheon. Nae lad than he mair fpruce, in faith, At either kirk or market On's back a coat o' hame-made claith, And, underneath weel farket Wi' harn, that day, At fairs, aboon the countra lads, Gib held his head right canty Whoe'er did flight him gat a daud, Whenever he was ranty. The lafles a' baith far and near, Lik'd Gibby o' the clachan - Wi's bonnet trigg aboon his ear, An' face for maift part laughin Wi' joy, that day. By 16 SPRING. By moonlight led, upo* the green The chiels wad meet in daffin, And warfle for a corkin preen; Syne, to the yill a' quaffin Gib's Dady aft wad claw his loof, An,' pinch, and pu' his jazy, To fee ilk flegging witlefs coof, Get o'er his thum' a heezy In fun, that night. Now Gib will leave his native land In fpite o' a* their banter What fignifis't on ftanes to fland An* round the kail -yard faunter ? Shall I, fays Gib, flay here a' hame Like witlefs Willy Glinted, Whafe pladdin wafcoat o'er his wyme Shaws, he's in's porritch ftinted ! Sae toom, that day. Gib's SPRING. 17 Gib's now gane for the Weftern feas, Whare felchs an' pellucks whamble, And's left his gear a 5 hame to thefe, Wha for't think worth to fcramble. Frae's ain houfe en' unto the fhore, He fcoor'd wi' a' his mettle, An' 's aft as afk'd, Gib's anfwers were, " To Halifax to fettle" In tred, that day. As on he trudg'd through Paifley town, The wabfter lads kept glowrin But, Gibby's een were not his own, On leaving Meg Maclaurin He ran a wee, and fyne, did ftan' To fee the burdies fingingj And, thought he heard as he was gawn, Strathboggy bell a ringing Wi' wae, that day. C But X S SPRING, But now the lad has ta'en the fea, An' wefllin, at a venture, He feuds alang wi' heart as free, As 'prentice frae's indenture Although his Maggy on his mind, Did fometimes gie a dunner ; Yet, hopes that routh o' goud he'd nVd O'er's love did come a lunner Right fell, that day,* Auld Scotland foon was out of fight Through jaws an' billows roarin The ihip, fometimes, jump'd corbacks height, O'er whales afleep an' fnorin. Now, Gibby, cooft ae look behin', Wi' eyes wi' fainnefs blinkin, To fpae the weather by they?;/, But, coudna flan' for kinkin Rainbows, that day. For SPRING. 19 For twice ten days clofe to the maft, Young Gibby fet his riggin Twa rafters kippled 'boon him fail, Serv'd for a better biggin. At length upo' the fhore he iten'd, And, flegg'd his highland mankies, But he by nane there, e'er was ken'd ; Sae thick amang the Yankies, Queer chiels, that day.* Gib now forgathering wi' the thrang, Met wi' his coufin Roger, Wha had na been, frae Glaigow lang, Till he became a Soger. Gib, too, enlifts and hoifts up high A whin-root and a myrtle, Syne, cluds draw near, with, on their thighs Swords made o' timmer fpurtles, To fight, that day. C 2 Gib 20 SPRING. Gib forward moved wi' the fun, Wi' a' his men in order, Thinking to fright' wi' wooden guns, The whigs, frae 'bout their borders, But, phiz and crack, upo' the bent The whigs cam on in cluthers, Wi' piftols' rair their lugs maifl rent, An' put Gib in a fwither To rin, that day.- The Yankies brattled down the brae, To fave themfels a bangin; And, Gibby fkelp'd before the fae, Like Colly wi' a mangin. Maifl feck gaed hame, themfels, to tell The upmot o' the bruilie; But, fome wi' mair than powder fmell'd, Forfairn by the tweelie I'th breeks, that day. For SPRING. 21 For cowards fome their craigs had racks'd, And fome they got a fneezin Gibby on them turn'd his back, Wi' a' his doup a bleezin *. Sic was the fate o' norland Gib, Wha tarrow'd at his coggy When ither flammacks were fu' glib, An' guid, about Strathboggy, For brofe, that day.- * Tar and Feathers, C 3 Now 2 2 SPRING. Now o'er the fields, the yellow goldfpinks mow Their bluming glory to the warm breeze And, now, in dinfu bizzing, through the air The bees crowd thick, to tafte the hinni'd fweets, Upo' the broomy brae. Fair to the fight The whinny hill fpreads forth its yellow bloom ; And, heather-bells upo' the mountain's top Wag wi' the morning dew.* Athwart thej^//, At dawn, fly Reynard fweeps the heathy brae, Returning to his bold wi' reeking fnout, - Red in the flaughter o' his pilfer'd fpoil. Guilt.goes not always free. Frae hill to hill Heard frae afar, the found of echoing horn Advancing, fpeaks th' avenging hand comes on. The farmer rifing with the foaring lark, Unto the mountain bends his early way, To count his fleecy ftore. Onward he goes, Wi' bonnet o'er his haffet fklentin laid, And, mind contemplative on Him who cleads The yeard wi' verdure, and, kindly bellows Blefiings SPRING. 23 Bleffings on him, in fruitfu' goat or yowe. Far in the filent nook o' bufliy glen, Where none could fee, trudging along, he fpies The luflieft wether o' his diftant fold, Bereft of life, and, by the fpoiler torn. Amaz'd he flan's, an' wi' a waefu e'e Beholds, his cypher on his fhorn fide. Meanwhile, upo' the hill, the trufty pack Loud opens on the track the hunter's voice Shrill-urging to the death, purfues amain ; And, down the bumy vale, unto the fpot Of flaughter, dogs the foe. Encourag'd by The fight o' bloody carcafe, hopes arife, That, the fell murd'rer is not diftant far. The hunt renew'd- o'er dykes and birny fells They fcour upo' the fcent an', by an* by, Advancing ftraight on the expanded plain, They prefs upo' their prey.- Arou fed by The found of hound and horn, the village fwarms Upo' the bent. Fail frae their fpinning-wheels C 4 Ilk 24 SPRING. Ilk hizzy fcours the bog and, luckies, leal, Rin toddlin to the knowe wi' rock in han*, To lend a lunner at the wily thief. Tir'd out wi' toil, at length poor Reynard finks, Amidft triumphant yells and, to the bites O' the devouring pack, without a youl, Submits The lovely May now ulhers in The hauthorn fooofs, and o'er the bufhy dell Each branch difplays exigence on the hills A' things look canty. Shepherds, gay, begin To big their booricks on each finny brae. Frae hill to hill, through glens and flaney dales, In fearch o' vagrant tips auld bawty rins While, up the fteep, the 'herd wi' akin fhanks Purfues the fremmit yowe ; and, now and then, Erts on the tir'd tyke with " Jheep awa a a /" Now, on the plain the lambs, at fetting fun, Forfake their mithers and together meet, Intent on mirth to friendship having fvvorn > Ane SPRING. 25 Ane taks a ften, acrols the foggy fur', Wi' racklefs force, fyne, at his heels, in troops The reft rin brattlin after, kir and croufe Like couts an' fillies ftarting frae a pofl Upo' a turf-dyke, ftraught, they take their ftan* Or, round a tammock wheel, an', fleggin, tofs The moudy-hillan to the air in floor. The mavis now, upo' the bufhy bank, Unto the trees emits his evening fong j And, a' around is peacefu' harmony. Forth frae the whinny hrae the maukin fteals, Wi' hirplin ftep, down to the vale below, To tafte the fpringing wheat, or barley braird. Wi' cautious care pufs doubles on her track, An', tents the mavis' whittle at ilk flen. Clofe to the far' fhe lays her downy wyme, An', mumps the verdant blade wi' lonely fear. Poor timorous elf ! bane o' the farmer's toil ! In feeding here, thou only tak'ft the tythe For Nature's vicar given, fo to give But 3 & SPRING. But fhould fome ruftic hallion fee thee here, In thy luxuriant paftime, tent him well Againft thy life he lays the noofing grin, Of hair, well twilled, frae the filly's tail. Or, mould the guid-man's fon, a racklefs chiel As ever fitted fur' ahint the plew, Come o'er the hill to count his outlar queys, An', fee the hap frae ftauk to flauk, thy life's Not worth a whiffle. Straught out o'er the bent Hameward he fcours, we' a' his fpirits up j An', frae the flake, aboon the ingle-en', He whips the carabine. -The motion-hole Frae ruft unfpik'd, and flint a flaming fet, Adown the bank he haftens, to the fpot Where a' the treafure o' 's uplifted hopes Was feen to hirple priming as he rins. Frae bufh to bufh, afk-lent the bank he fcours ; (His cutes ilk ither fmite 'tween fear and joy) Advanced near, he flings his bonnet by ; And, on his knees, creeps foftly to the hedge. Peer SPRING. 27 Poor hairy-footed thing ! undreaming thou Of this ill-fated hour, doft bienly lie, And, chew thy cud, among the wheaten ilore. Thy murdrer undifcover'd is prepar'd ! Now, through the wattled flakes wi' glentin look, He peeps upo' his prey, tho' dimly feen Through wat'ry floods of joy, and, cocking, takes An enlang aim, to hit baith lugs an' tail. His piece prefented to the back he draws The roofty trigger 'and, as quick as thought, In awfu* fplutter frae its riftin gab, Pie flrikes a flane, fax ells ayont his aim. The hills reverberate the dinfome yell. Rous'd by the rumblin noife, poor maukin takes The bent, wi' nimble foot ^and, fcudding, cocks Her bun, in rude defiance of his pow'r. . But, vengeance ever dogs and follows guilt. The halloo rais'd forth frae the ha'-houfe fwarm, A pack o' yelpin tykes. The cotter's cur, At's ain fire-fide, rous'd by the glad alarm, Out >! SPRING. Out o'er the porritch-pingle takes a ften, Laying the brofy weans upo' the floor Wi' donfy heght, and, rins unto the bent, O'er moor an' dale fafl flee the yelpin tribe, Encourag'd to the fcent by long halloos. Some this way take the hill, the neareft cut, Unto the place where laft the hare was feen Upo' the fcent fome round the valleys run, The fartheft way -one tingles out a fheep, Another fenfelefs cur purfues a crow. Tir'd wi' the chace ilk proud o' what he 'as done, Now, homeward turns, and, o'er the burn brae Streeks out his weary {hanks, and, laps his fill, Far on the South, black fwelled clouds appear, And, by degrees, athwart the lifted fky Spread forth their gloom. Now, low upo' the hil , The mi ft, recumbent, fpeaks a wat'ry day, And, fhow'rs, refrefhing, to the bladed grain. Down fa' the pearly drops, fucceflive ; and, Burns SPRING. *? Burns out o'er their banks to rivers fwell, Sweeping the verdant plain. When ebb'd away, But, not till then, an' when the billowy foam, Borne by the ftream, wheels round the pebbled pool, Then is the time, wi' gaudy-winged fly, " To tempt the trout" of am well fplit and dri'd Thy rod attach and, frae the hoary fteed Intwift, in even links, the lengthen'd line. Thy gear prepar'd, now, up the ftream with care, Trail the delufive infect fometimes crofs The whirlin eddy, where the ftream recoils In eafy circling, to the oofy rock. Ahint a ftane, clofe by the circling flood, The moor-burn fpeckled king has his abode, To catch what fidelin fa's adown the pool. For him thy fkill exert. Watch well the time When floating clouds obfcure the glaring fun, And o'er the ftream diftufe a gurly caft ; That inftant, on the pool extend thy line, Wi' gentle fweep, and bending by degrees The 5 o SPRING. The pliant rod, flow moving to the wind, Lead on the gilded cheat the well buik'd hook, Like animated infect in its pride, Stately fkimming o'er the liquid flood Crofling his haunt, forth frae his pebbled bed The fpreckled chieftain draws. With eager grafp He darts upon his death fyne, on the bank The yellow captive's flung, a fpartlin light. Be thus thy fport- but, let not on thy hook, " The little captive ever torture meet." W hen nw again ft the fhallow, purling, ftream; The Sa'mon fry, in troops a' bick'rin prefs, And {how their filver'd breafties in the glade, On them have pity- 1 tempt not, any way, That fecklefs race ; it is not worth thy care. O ! fpare the finny infants, when thou may'ft With equal eafe, and, greater pleafure, lure Their granam dads. Now, frae the pebbled rill Trace down the winding vale, unto the flood Of rolling waters, in whofe gurgling ftreams The SPRING. 31 The Sa'mon has his haunt. Forth, at the dawn, Wi' a* thy tackle trimm'd, take thou thy way To where the lufty tenant o' the floods Has, yaupim, ta'en his ftan' in queft of food. Now is the time, when on its filent banks None has as yet, along the river trod, To lure the monarch of thofe larger fireams. T' infure fuccefs, mark well the water's hue Jf dark and mofTy, of the lighter caji Muft be thy fly if o'er a pebbled bed The liquid current rolls, ferene and clear, Then, frame thy infect of a darker tinge For, tent ye this, light laid on darknefs doth, As darknefs does on light, the guile affift. Athwart the flream now fling the lengthen'd line, An', mark wi' watchfu' e'e the fpringing game. Should now, amidft the purling, foaming pool, The wakefu' fifh efpy the glittering fly, From Nature drefs'd, fkimming the cryftal flood, Forthwith amain he plunges on his prey, Wi' 3 2 S P R I N G. Wi' eager fwafh, the lucky moment watch, An', in his gills engorge the barbed death - Syne gie him tether. From the deep he turns An' wi' the current drives fometimes he fprings Above the current's furface and, fometimes, Tries to take fhelter in the oofy bank Tir'd out with many turnings, to the flood He lays his redden'd fide, and, gafpin, dies Syne round him flock, in troops, the fpirley race - And, minnows frifk, now, that their foe is dead, And, caper for the kingdom of the pool. Oft in the flreams of Dee, of old, I've feen Sic fportive fcenes as thae, while on its banks I trod, in heedfu' flep, whipping the flood To lighten care, and, chace the loit'ring fun Wi' nimbler flride, adown the Weftern fky. Bra Dee ! be thou my theme Black frae the hills That circumvene the fkirts of Craigenyell, Thy SPRING. 33 Thy waters, in meand'ring currents run, 'Mong rocks and heather, many a weary mile, Till, thou, connecting with thy fitter- ftreams ; The river Ken, kitting the kindred flood ; Ye' roll, in cudlin purlings to the fea. Howfocial on thy banks fits merriment, Surrounded by the band o' laughing life ! Wi' leal rufticity I'd rather dwell Above thy braes, than tread the gaudy courts Of polim'd knavery, wi f a* the glare, And tinfel'd drefs, o' fuperficial greatnefs. How rudely on the fight, feen frae afar, Stand the unbatter'd walls of caftle Trief ! Long haft thou, noble biggin ! flood the bite Of eating time, with harden'd front and o'er Thy nettl'd brow, the howling wind and ftorm In vain keep whizzing. In difcordant times, Thou hadft thy bails founded by the ftream, To guard thy ifle, and, keep the thrawart chiels D ' Of 34 SPRING. Of nee'brin booricks, in fubmiffive awe. Juftice and Humanity forgathering now, (Striking the thumbs of friendship, ne'er to part) An' flogging Tyranny acrofs the fea, Have render'd tbee, wi' a* thy ftately look, Not worth a flea thy tow'rs but ferve the turn Of keaws and hoolets, where to lit and cry* O fam'd SPRING. 35 O fam'd an' celebrated caftle ! Before thou waft there was a buftle, Wha wad be chief, and give the whuflle In high comman* An', tak a man's gun by the muffle, An', gar him flan. Twa brithers then o' fpunky mettle, At crowdy quarrel'd for, the kettle (Their mither beg'd they would it fettle) Baith wi' a brainge Sprang, hap an* ften, out o'er a nettle An', cry'd, revenge. Ilk faying the ither had affrunted Forth frae the houfe away they runted- Swearing, their wroth could ne'er be blunted While liv'd a clan. That, would wi' gun or braid-fword dunt it, Wi' man to man. D 2 Wi' 3 6 SPRING. Wi' back to back on ane anither, Towards ilk pole did walk a brither The younger loth to, leave his mither In wae an' grief, Trav'ling along, clap'd in a fwither, His doup on Trief. The rumour fpreading round the lochan, The caufe could not be told for laughin, How brithers pingled at their brochan, And made a din- Ilk chiel fcrew'd up his dogfkin fpleuchan, An' affdid rin. To Trief they march'd fu' blythe an' nimble ; Coblers wi' awls, an' wrights wi' wimbles ; An' taylors, fain the gear to thrimmle Of coward coofs, Made powder-meafures o' their thimbles To fca'd their loofs. They SPRING. 37 They look'd upo' their new plantation It met the general approbation To guard it, each man, in his ftation, Wi' fpade an' pike, Through trufFs an' ftanes fought a foundation, To build a dyke. Sae far fecure, and, fafe frae bullet To make a paflage o'er the gullet, Ilk on his mou'der flung his wallet, Wi' twa three flanes ; An' made a brig that ane could pull it, Nor, flrefs his banes. They nieft a' met to make a biggin, Which, mould above, the clouds its riggin Ivift fair an' high. Each wi' a piggin, Of pitch an' lint, An' eggs, which he had got by thiggin, Made a cement. D 3 On 3 8 SPRING. On Kelton Hill there liv'd twa witches, Who, feeing fie wark, out o'er the ditches Frifk'd, nimbly, and, within their clutches Embrac'd Maclan ; An' told him, as he ftrok'd their mutches, He was the man. As round the wa's the kimmers happed, The broomfticks on their riggins flapped ; An,' now and then, their hurdies tapped, To raife the Deil, Wha faid, he'd noofly crown the tap o"t, Wi' ftanes frae Screel. The Die'l being naething but a cowan, To make him free o' plumb an 5 trowan, They gather a* about a gowan ; An', o'er a fword, Setting his auld black bum a lowin, Gave him the word. Upo' SPRING. 39 Upo' the wa's a' ban's then rnunted The luckies their tobacco lunted An' leugh to hear, the auld boy grunted Upo' the road, As frae the hills he hameward runted, Wi' knowes o' fod. In fweat and fun how they did jicker ! The 'prentice lads brought ftoups o' licker, Which, made their ban's a' bra an' ficker, To ply the mell The De'il had brandy in a bicker, Out by himfel.' Now through the air the auld boy birl'd, To fetch mae ftanes, wi's apron furl'd ; An', as he hameward with them whirl'd Frae auld Bengairn, The firing did break, an' down they hurl'd Into a cairn. D 4 'Twas 4 o S P R I N G. 'Twas a misfortune but, to mend it, He to Bentudor quickly ften'd it, An' grafp'd the hill, but cou'dna bend it, It was fae dour, Then, quoth he, " I'll wi' brimflone rend it, As fma as floor !" Then down he fat, like ony mumper ; . His hat threw by, pu'd out his jumper ; The kimmers cry'd, " O Cc a thumper, Without a joint !" An', as they fwigg'd the other bumper, Praifed its point. But, while he thump'd the hill wi' peftle, His brither mafons on the Caftle, Call'd frae the wa's, wi, muckle buftle, For lirre an' flanes There was nanc- there to fill a muffle 7 he De'il was g.inc ! Like SPRING. 41 Like 'prentice boy, that coud na help it, Hame frae his wark awa he fkelped, r rhe littlcfurzcs at him yelped, To fee him pufF; And, Cerberus, though but juft whelped, Did flan* an' yufF, Nae mair behadden to fie fwankies, As, deil or witches, for their prankies, The mafon lads, wi' nimble {hankies Hap'd frae the roof; An', up, aloft, the timmer plankies Hove with their loof. ss Now 4 2 SPRING. Now frae the purling flood, an' diftant vale, Thy eyes ca' back, an,' o'er the verdant mead, Behold the bluftiing profpeft. Who can paint A waly-fprig like Nature ? Can the mind, Wi' a' its pow'r and cunning, find a plan To rival Nature wi' creative art ? If wild Imagination cannot brag Of hues like her's if Fancy in the tafk Fails and gives up " Ah ! tell me where I may Find language to exprefs, the varied fcene ?" Behold the garden rich wi' herbs and flow'rs, Opens its beauty to the wand'ring eye ! There, plenty rifes at the delver's heels, An' fpeaks induflry. In the cbol retreat, By faugh an' boortree twining other's arms, The humming bee refts on the honied bloom, An,' lades his {hankies wi' the yellow wax. Down frae the fcra-built fhed the fwallows pop, Wi' lazy flaughter, on the gutter dub. Ane picks up ftraes, anither, wi' his neb Works SPRING. 43 Works up the mortar. On their talks intent, Ilk in his office plys, wi' heedfu' care, Till, to the bank depends the finim'd houfe. High on the fklentin fkew, or thatched eave, The fparrow, nibbling ravager o" garden pride, Seeks out a dwelling-place. Adown the grove, The gouk, returned frae his foreign neft, Haps, filent wi' his mate, frae tree to tree The infant year has not yet gien him ftrength, To fing his old fong through his nifty throat. He, hoarfely, tells the birds that he is come ; An' hoftin, afks their leave to let him ftay. Should you, now, wander through the forefl wild, Amidft the leafy wildernefs, there, in the claff O' branchy oak, far frae the tread o' man, The ring-dove has her neft unfocial bird ! To woods and wilds her cooing cry me makes ; And, rocks, refponfive, echo back her moan. But, mould you traverfe the fair finny plain, Where, 44 SPRING. Where, now, the pied napple rankly grows, An,' winnleflraes excel the grov'ling fog ; There, to the fkies the foaring lark afpires, Chants forth his airy notes unto the clouds ; While, far beneath his wing, his mate, fecure, Upo' her tammock fits, and, gayly, fykes To feel his neb, an' join his melody, The thriving year, all focial an' ferene, Excites the feather'd-nation into love, Nor lefs, now, does the rougher brutal world Feel, the enlivening power of the Spring. The Bull, wi' curled front, and finews ftrong, Difdaining th' keeper's voice, to pleafure loofe, Strays frae his herd, regardlefs o' his food, An' fcours, wi' furious flame, the diftant vale. There, fhould obstruction frae a neighb'ring king His fierce defire baulk, againft the foe Wi' a' the fury o' incenfed ftrength, The bellowing war commences. Firft, afar The rowt is loudly heard, which, by degrees, Approach- SPRING. 45 Approaching nearer, dwindles to a croon. The rival now in fight, forth frae the herd The foe advances, mutt'ring blood and death. " Their eyes flam fury" fidelin to the fight They both come on, and, groaning in their might, jfn- Make fan' p pebbles, frae the hollow earth A Fly, whizzing in the air. The 'herd-boy feeing, Th' impetuous onfet, fearfu' o' the fray, Flings plaid, an* luggy by, and, ftens the burn Unto an aged elm, whence, out o' harm, He views the warfle laughing wi' himfel At feeing auld brawny glowr, and, {hake his nools Dares him in fight, 'gainft any fremmit bill. Snuffing and crooning done the combatants Butting in wroth, meet, furious, front to front, And, ( wi' impetuous force, the battle mix." The fpanky heifers, breathing balmy round, Egg on their fury, and their rage provoke. Thus, in the firey fteed, whofe blood is warm'd By fpring's impulfive heat the growing pow'r DifFufing 4 6 SPRING. DifFufmg through his veins, the reijgh he fcornb, The thong defies, an,' o'er the verdant plain, Exulting prances wi' unbridled mane. While thefe, in lufty flrength, enjoy their loves, Thejaig, poor dowy beaft ! nae pleafure kens Aboon a gowan tap for fovereignty Or pow'r among the herd, he ne'er contends ; Nor, tweelies for the kingdom of the loan. Shame fa' the ruthlefs han' that did thee wrong, -. Or, duril wi' Nature meddle, to deprive Thee of her bounty. 'Midft the wanton herd Thou grazeft, unfufceptible of paffion's pow'r Like poor Italian piper, douf and dry, Thou ranged o'er thy food, among the queys, A' fearlefs o' thy moo, or cap'ring tail. Unto thy fmooth'ning tongue they fainly turn Their yeuky rumps, and, fidelin bend their necks, To catch thy friendly Icart. Between thy horns, The cuddochs, wantonly, the battle feign, And, SPRING. 47 And, ilk yaul-cuted heifer round thee playing, In merriment, toffing her glaiket head Beneath thy wyme, licks down thy boozy lifk ; And, rubs thy courage-bag, now's toom's a whuflle. Thus, to the Spring awake, the brutal world Feels the fu' pow'r o' the reviving year. Nor, of the chearing months, is human-kind Lefs fenfible. The modeft, virgin-blum. DifFufes luflre on the beauteous maid And, robuft youths, whofe hearts for joy are form'd, Now feel the impulfe of congenial love. Unto the focial paffions form'd, Sufanna ! come, Pride of my fcanty verfe ! come, and, hence, view The winding valley, lavifh with its flores. See how the lily fips the purling ftream, An,' o'er the bank in fcatter'd beauty, fpreads The gay profufion ! Yonder let us walk- An' as we trace the windings o' the rill, In blifsfu' talk, let paflion, leal and pure, Dired our fteps. Not a' the eaftern world Can 4 S SPRING. Can boaft of beauty, like the blufhing face Of Virtue, fhining through the golden beams Cf Modejly and, breathing gales of joy. Upo' the ravifh'd foul, wi' iicker fit, Truth treads triumphant Nature's lovely gifts In her improv'd by, undifguifed art, Spread forth their.luftre to the rifing day; And, with her, all is harmony and love. I. When fields grew green, and walys fpread Their bloflbms on ilk brae, An' toddlin lammies o'er the lawn Did, daftly friik an' play Auld Brawny wha in winter's cauld Had mourn'd for lack o' hay, Seeking the blade of tender grafs, Far up the burn did flray. For- SPRING. 49 II. Forgathering wi' the neighboring herd, A crooning, ftraught, began, Ilk cuddoch billying o'er the green, Againft auld crummy ran The uuco brute much dunching dried, Frae twa-year-alls and flirks, But Jock the bill diipers'd the tribe He fmell'd her moo and fmirk'd. III. Nae twa were ever feen mair thick Than brawny an' the bill ; An' when me hameward took her way, He faw her o'er the hill i Now brawny aft wad leave the craft, An' wander by herfel' Cropping the blade upo* the ftream, To where me lov'd fae well. E The 50 SPRING. V IV. The cow was miffed at the flap, At milking time at e'en' The guid-dame, rinning to the herd, Spear'd whar fhe laft was feen - " Upo' the hill" the callan cries She cock'd her gaucy runt, An* to Strathfallan green burn-brae Fu' nimbly m.e did flrurit. V. The guid-dame me had ance been wed As weel as weel could be-- Now John forgot ! the beams of love Again, blink'd in her e'e Upon Strathfallan fhe had caft Lang time a wifhfu' leer, But, coudna by her looks alone, The chiel's intention fpeer. Ae SPRING. 51 VI. Ae day Strathfallen took the bent, To hunt the fremmit yowes, An' fpying an unco, crummet, beafl, Amang his broorny knowes ; He erted colly down the brae, An' bade him fcour the flats ; But when the tyke to brawny came Down on his tail he fat. VII. Nae dog Strathfallan could bring out Would e'er at brawny girn When ither kye gaed to the loan, Auld brawny crofs'd the burn. Now weir an' fence o' wattl'd rice, The hained fields inclofe, Poor brawny prefles 'gainft the thorn But, cannot reach the rofe* E 2 On SPRING. VIII. On this fide flood the lonefome me, On t'other fide her joe; An', aye they flood, an', aye they mourn'd In dolefu', rowtin woe Lang had the twa at fetting fun Upo' the fenced doon, Their mutual forrows interchang'd, By mony a weary croon. IX. Dame Elfpith, wi' attentive ear, Lang heard their loving yearn, Strathfallan was before her e'e Her heart was 'yont the cairn- Ilk rowt the twa gave thwart the burn Cam o'er her heart a dunt Strathfallan was as douf to love As, an auld cabbage runt. At SPRING. X. At length, however, o'er his mind Love took a donfy fwirl, An' the fu j pow'r o' Elfpith's charms Gied his poor faul a fkirl Strathfallen pitied brawny's croon, As, Elfpith did the bill's They brak the fence wi' leal confent, An' let them hae their fills. 53 E 3 Still 54 SPRING. Still while I ting of Nature, let my thoughts Pervade the wide domain, and, trace the caufe That, caufed, caufes, through the mighty 'whole. Pure Serenity attaches to her fide, The wand'ring thought and, Contemplation , ftill Leads on frae work to work, creating, Love An' Admiration in th' unbounded foul. This is the nobleft ftudy of the mind It warms the bofom wi' the pureft heat ; And, lifts the foul on rapt'rous, blisfu', wings, To view the beauties of a happier world. SUMMER, SUMMER. P R I N G turns away her fonfy, bluming face, Frae the refulgent glowr o' fummer's fun, Who comes athwart the iky wi' ardent look, An' fcorching pith, o'er burdies, beafts, and men, Hence frae my auld clay-biggin let me gang, Far up the woodlands wild, where, fcarce a leaf Bobs wi' the e'ening breeze where cool retreats, In caves and, fpreading oaks, can mield my Mufe Frae the prevailing fun where, not a ray Of ardent heat may, fpoil my whifile-pipe, Or, raufe my finging-keg to cafl a gird. There let me fit an' fing the leave-lang day, An* chant the glories o' the circling year. Or, let me, rather, on the heathy hill, Far frae the bufy world, whereon ne'er ilood A cottage, walk, an' churm my Lallan lays, E 4 In 5 6 SUMMER. In hamefpun cleading, to the hollow rocks. Thy top o' Screel ! up in the midway air, Lifts irately to the fight thy birny brow Majeftic, frowns upo' the neighb'ring fells, An' grov'ling hillocks o' the vale below Come Mufe ! thou donfy limmer, who dofl laugh An' claw thy hough at, bungling Poets come, An' o'er my Genius crack thy knotted thong, That my old reftive filly may go on Wi' nimbler foot. Brave Caledonians all Attend, my rural fong 3 an* if ye're pleas'd Wi' what I fing, let me your pleafure fee, By looping to my theme. The morning-ftar Loofing its luftre, by the coming day, Now twinkles, faintly, down the weftern iky- An', through the world the gloomy robe of night Begins to lofe, its, dreary, fable, hue. Hail to the Power that, in creative might Ordain'd thefe twinkling orbs at firfl to mine ! With what an over-ruling, fkilfu', hand, Were SUMMER. 57 Were thefe bright, rolling, planets form'd at firft ; And, in the concave heaven, all glorious, plac'd, To rule the varied hours ! How great the Hand That cou'd the world's, unweild^, pond'rous, mafs, Create frae nought and, in the ambient air, For ages fix, an' bid it therein roll ! Let, now, Reflection view, the amazing whole, And, tell the glories o' the vaft domain. The filent gloom is by the dawn outdone ; And, to their haunts the prowling beafts of prey, Which, other regions breed, an' nourilh up, Scour nimbly. Frae his bed o' eafe And floth, luxurious man has not yet rifen, To blefs the coming day. Few joys can charm His heart who, to the dead realm o' fleep Commits the fleeting moments o' his life ; Or, in diftemper'd fcenes of vanity, Extinguifhes the powers o' his foul. The blue ey'd dawn fp rings frae the eaftern clime Wi' azure mantle ; and, the filent night, Dufky 5 8 SUMMER. Dufky and gray, finks 'yond the weflern main. Hence, o'er the lift, the ruddy morn appears, Scattering the mifty clouds -, and, wi' her broom, Of radiant birch, fweeping the dew away. Now infant Day, like chuffy-cheeked wean, Peeps frae Aurora's bed, an' wi' a glowr Makes hills, an' dales, an' valleys, brighten wide. The darkfome dell, the mountain's low'ring top, The fhady cavern, and, the dripping rock, Swell, on the fight ; and, wi' the early dawn, Difplay, their awfu' beauties, bluming, wild. Far up the winding vale, among the hills, The mift floats, dufky, o'er the purling ftream ; While, through the fmoaking zephyr's wide domain, The current's murm'ring noife is heard afar. Fair o'er the fields the rifing rays diffufe, Their ruddy pow'r an', frae the barley field The maukin hirples, fearfu' o' the blade Her trembling foot has mov'd while on the brake The mavis takes his flan', to hail the morn, An* SUMMER. 59 An' chant his gratitude. The pliant foot Of early paffenger, athwart the vale, Dunting, oppreflive, on the verdant path, Beflirs the tenants o' the leafy brae. The chanted matins o' the feather'd choir, An', native voice of joy throughout the fields, Provoke to harmony and, all around The woodlands wild is, peacefu' humming love. Stir'd by the wakefu' note o' chanticleer, The 'herd-boy o'er his mou'der flings his plaid ; His broach an' luggy danglin by his fide ; An', frae his theeked biggin takes his way, Unto the wattl'd fold ; whence, to the hill He drives his fleecy care, to tafle the fweets O' the bedewed morn. Now on the hills The fcorching king of day, his beard difplays Refulgent, wi' the birjlin beams o' light. The fogs affrighted at his burning face, For refuge, feek the undulating air. The clouds, light moving o'er the mountain's brow, Are 60 SUMMER. Are lefTen'd by his pow'r and, through' the world, His boundlefs view fmites a' wi' fluid gold. The ra'en, hoarfe-cawing frae the rocky fleep, Mounts to the midway air, wi' active wing His croaking fpeaks fair weather an* invites The hufbandman to tread the dewy field. Bent on their toil, the mowers frae their cots Stump, luflily an' o'er the flufhing mead Wide fpreading, ftretchthe long keen-biting fey the, Wi' ftrake an' ftane, ilk treads the yellow vale, Unto his daily toil. Upo' the plain, Low nodding wi' luxuriant herbage, they, Well arranged flan', fyne, at a fignal, Stoop, eager to the tafk, an', now, ahint Them fling the treafure wi' heroic fweep. Now, up the lifted iky the potent fun Diflblves to air the clofe collected mifts, An,' {learning clouds that floated on the hills Till through the far ilretch'd world the bonny day Spreads S U M M E R. 6 r Spreads forth intenfe. Who can in filence pafs The vifible return of Heaven's efteem ! The gurgling rill, lefs murm'ring, o'er its bed Runs lauguid. To the deep the fifli repair, To fhield them frae the heat o' the rifing day 5 An', to the flimy pool the paddocks hap Wi' haft'ning might, where, underneath the brow They, filently, defy the ardent noon. Frae the low, wat'ry, vale, thy eyes direcl: Unto the diftant hills. Wide o'er thefel/s, The flocks relaxed by the heat of day, Lay down their languid fides. Some to the heath Scud nimbly, where, underneath the fhade O' bufhy heather they, concealed, ly, Till cooler hours arife. Some on the brow O' the fteep, fhady, rock, recumbent, pafs The fultry hours an' fome ahint a craig Stan' fnugly, fhaded frae the burning day ; An' rub their yeuky rumples on the turf. Meanwhile the fhepherd, on the foggy knowe His 62 SUMMER. His weary limbs reclines, in drowfy mood. His faithfu' dog, hard by, amufive, ftalks The benty brae, flow, M'ning to the chirp O' wand'ring mpufe, or moudy's carkin hoke. Now, to the made, the feather'd tribe repair, Wi' feeble wing. Upo' the aged oak, The crow fpreads out his feathers to the fun While, hid among its leaves, the gouk fits mute, Wi's wife-horn dry, waiting the caller tide, Wherein, to pleafe his mate by's auld, cuckoo. Thus far, bra Mufe! thou'ftfung but don't difdain To let the little, feeble, fummer-race, Share in thy fong, and, flutter in thy lay. Mov'd by the potent heat the infect tribe Fly frae their fecret caves, wi' pow'rfu' wing Frae every darkfome chink wherein they flept, The wint'ry hours away, the reptiles creep In myriads, bafking in the funny ray. Far frae his wattled home, th* carefu' bee Strays to the flow'ry dale, to cull the wealth O' SUMMER. 63 O' the fair fp reading broom the beaming day Invites to induftry. Frae bloom to bloom The induflrious infect plys his little wings ; While, up the bowes the bummles fly in troops, Sipping wi' fluggim trunks, the coarfer fweets, Frae rankly-growing bri'ers an' bluidy-fingers. Great is the humming din but, fhould a cloud Rife in the wat'ry fouth, an' o'er the field Emit its pearly pow'r, the bufy world Forfake their honied tafks, an', homeward fkim The wide extended plain. Quick to his houfe Each haftens, to avoid the wat'ry death An' 'tween their portals, wi' theatric prefs, The humming multitude, fail, urging, crowd ; The clouds difpers'd again the yellow day Shines forth wi' greater force. The infant tribe Maturely wing'd, tir'd wi' their nurfery, Long to poflefs a kingdom of their own- Hence, frae the crowded fkep they wing their way, A' bizzing, joyfully, at freedom gain'd. Adown SUMMER. Adown a glen, clofe by a wood, An honeft wabfter's cottage flood, Whafe haffet, a Kilmarnock hood Kept warm an' fnug ; Sic as his fore-bears fin' the flood, Clapt o'er their lugs. Right bien John liv'd in his pofTefiion Nae brither weaver o' profeffion, Wad mair than he fcorn, a tranfgreffion By night or day Than he nane e'er in, the Kirk-Seflion, Had mair to fay. Like ither honeft godly folk, John wad hae laugh'd, and, told his joke, An', wi' his neighbour ta'en zfmoke, Or, gien a fang. He'd rant till he was like to choke, At, " Jenny dang" His SUMMER, 65 His tenement it was but fma' Aught fcrimpit roods, an' that was a' An' yet his wife was always bra', An', unco noof,-^ His weans nae duddy figns did {haw, Nor, poortith proof* Contented wi' his ain kail yeard, For greater wealth ne'er fafh'd his beard,, His wife did tent the barley breard, His bairns the bees, While he, the plaiddin knotty {heard, Juft at his eafe. While luckies at the hallan tapt Wi' routh o' wark, John heez'd his cap, An', gied the claith the ither chap, Till, fpool an' wheel O'er Poverty cam, fie a whap, As, made him reel. F John 66 SUMMER. John was right mod'rate in his notions ;. (An upright heart is true devotion) An', did defpife the outward lotion Of haly water, As nae mair fit for renovation, Than, fowin fplatter. True to his Kirk, he called fools A' innovators on her rules- At Mountaineers that preach on ftools,. He coudna wink Quoth John *< They ply their wily tools But for the chink" The Sun had reach'd his mid-day tow'r, Clouds black an' heavy 'gan to low'r - John, nothing dreading frae the pow'r Of the noon-day, Unto the Kirk had, at the hour, Gaen forth to pray. The SUMMER. 67 The good man's prayers are often mar'd Though frae the warld his thoughts be barr'd An', true devotion oft is fcar'd By beaft or boggle ; An' th' heart which has wi' vice juft war'd, Is fet a goggle. The clouds difperfing 'fore the fin, Wha hetly o'er the lift did rin, The bees wi' awfu' c aft Ing din, Role wi' a wheel, An', in a han-clap crofs'd the lin Straught aff to fcreel. Faft to the Kirk the callan birl'd, An,' the door fnack he quickly twirl'd, Syne, at his dady loudly fkirl'd, " They're out o' fight !" Mefs John's twa lugs right fairly dirl'd, Stunn'd wi' the fright. F 2 John 68 SUMMER. John naething faid, but took his bonnet As needfu work he look'd upon it Let ither people tauk an' drone it, E'en as they pleafe - 'Twas what few i' the Kirk wad fhunned Were their the bees. By this his neebor on the lay, Tarn Cleg, his wife, and, twa three mae, Were got upo' the hawthorn brae Wi' key an' girdle, An', a white claith weal fluff 'd wi' flrae, Upo' a hurdle. Some this way ran acrofs the dell, An' that way others fcour'd the fell John flen'd the burnie by himfel, Wi' eerie brow; But, of the hive none e'er cou'd tell, Or where, or how. Tis SUMMER. 69 'Tis ardent noon, an' now, throughout the plain The languid hufbandmen, opprefs'd wi' heat, Lean faintly o'er their toil The mowers, now, Half o'er the cutting tafk, fupinely ly Upo' the morn fwaird, regardlefs for An hour, of pain or care in hale enjoyment O' ftout feamingy^tf/j' an' plenteous fare. Among the fpringing grain the weeders walk Dowy an' feeble. Scarce through the leafy brake Is heard a murmur. In yon diftant glade, The Sun, refulgent, ftrikes the pearly ftream, Dazzling to the fight Through blooming Nature Bright blazing day pervades an' pow'rfu', flrikes The fpreading blofibm wi' his fervent glow. The weary traveller through fweat an' fun, Opprefs'd, gladly reclining on the hallan-ftane, Sips, cautioufly, his mug o' tippenny. Frae towns an' diftant villages thick crowds Prefs, thronging, to the Fair, to pafs the day F 3 In 7 o SUMMER. In harmlefs merriment. The reaming caups Are nimbly handed round, an' focial mirth Sits, fidging, on ilk turf throughout the hill. The riling Sun upo' the .A Right bonnily was blinkin, When Rab an' Jeany by themfels Unto the Fair were linkin. . Wi' bra white (lockings on his legs, Rab (how'd his knotted garters Sae dainty was his bonny Jean, Nae lafs was ever fmarter Or blythe, that day. Alang SUMMER. 71 Alang the way they walk'd fu' gay, . An' talk'd their loves thegether ; , Rab aft wad fing, but, Jean wad fay, " Firft let us afk my mither." Wi' han' in han' the plain they fcour'd, Like any partraicks pairing, Unto the Hi/f, whare, crowds did pour, A' for to get a fairing Unfeen, that day. s An' fie a fight fure ne'er was feen, O' lads an' ruddy lafles, Some thither went to mow their flioon. An' fome to tak their glafles. Upo' the Hill t nags, men, an' boys A' through ither fail did bicker Some here fat felling Tunbridge toys, An' there fome fat wi' licker In kaigs, that day. F 4 An' 72 SUMMER, An', there was ginger- faced Moll, Wi f^eeties frae Kirk***bree An' Ca'f-reed carrier Samuel Noll, Nae better than he would be. An', there was nimble-finger'd Ben, Wha frae the whins cam jumllin, An', beggars frae the auld Brig-en', Amang the croud cam limpin TO thieve, that day. An' there was pluke-fac'd Willie Kell, Wi' brandy in a barrel, An' Jemmy Neal an' Geordy Fell, Wha baith cam there to quarrel-* An' there fat leering Lilly Scot Upo' a green truff laughin Wha fold at tippence-plack the pot The beft yill i' the clachan, Sae brifk, that day. Great SUMMER. 73 Great was the noife of chapman lads- An,' muckle was the bufile ; Wi' girls wi' gingerbread in dauds, An' boys wi' baubee \vhulHes. Some tippling chiels gaed to the tent, To hanfel Leezy Waldron ; An', drank until their wymes were flent, Like any drum or cauldron, Wi' punch, that day. The lafTes, now, in twas an' threes, Cam fweating up the entry ; Nell, Jean, an' Sue, frae Ba***ghie An' fie mifcaed gentry. Their fweethearts met them at the gate j Juft at the hour expe&ed-^ But fquintin S'ufy took the pet, Becaufe, me was negle&ed, An' fcorn'd that day. Ned 74 S U. M M E R. Ned Toozy frae the " Cock an' Breeks," A noble tent erected, He fcrew'd his tongue within his cheeks, An' faid he much expected Ned's fign upo' the riggin faff'd, While he within was chearin, The lafles 'tween their fingers laugh'd, An' faid it was a queer ane, An' ft range, that day. Wi' feaming fwats upo' a fod, Sat highland Andrew Tamfon, An' in a quarry by the road, Sat winfome Willie Samfon. Willie was a racklefs chiel, An' that the neebors ken'd ay, An,' be the tweelie what it will, Bra Willie wad defend ay Himfel, that day. Upo* SUMMER. 75 Upo' the hill-tap by himfel Tarn Tapfter fix'd his ftaning Sic was the pow'r o' Tapfter' s yill, It fet ilk heart a langing. Peg Pharis had, to quench her drouth, But pri'd it an' amazing I- Its vertiie fpread about her mouth, An', fet her bluid a blazing Elfewhere, that day. Up cam twa fpanky countra lairds, Upo' their fillies mounted Ane might difcern by their beards, How mony years they f ad counted. Now up an* down throughout the fair, They crack'd their eel-fkin lames $ An' gayly fhow'd their raploch gear, An', bridles made o' raflies, Weel twin'd, that day. Now 7 6 SUMMER. Now, through the crowd cam Jocky Day, The laird o* Allanbankie Wi's lac'd cravat he look'd right gay ; ' In troth his nae fheep-fhankie As Jocky patted through thejlap, Rab Sinkler loud did hollow Ilk lafs cock'd up her filken cap, Saying, daikins ! here's the fellow For them, that day. Young Andrew Mar o' Brechan-howe Cam there to fell his filly, An* having little in his pow, Took up wi' racer Nelly Poor Andrew ta'en wi* Nelly's charms, Coft her gillore of raifins, But, Nelly fled frae 'tween his arms, An' aff wi' Gib the Mafon Flegg'd faft, that day. Up SUMMER 7; Up cam Tarn Tell an' Sutor Sam, High cap'ring, frae the vennal, As tent upo' the aftergame, As, hounds loos'd frae a kennel Sam, glowrin, flumped through the thrang To meet his lafs Meg Michan, Her prefence gi'd his heart a bang, An', fet it a' a pechan Wi' joy that day. The laird of Crae, an* twa three drones, Cam Hiding through the dockens, An', lap the dyke, ftraught up to S***n's Their morning drouth to flocken The laird, a fheep's-e'e cooft on Jean, Auld mantin Michael's daughter, His heart to kifs her fair did green, Yet, coudna fpeer wha aught her, Sae blate, that day. But 7 g SUMMER. But now the glomin coming on, The chiels began to pingle, An' drunken carls coupin down, Made mugs an yill-caups jingle* The Widow Broddy by the flap, Wha fold the tartan preen-cods, By Whifky mauld, lay but her cap, Her head upon a green fod, Right Tick, that day. A hurly burly now began, An* cudgels loud were thumpin The gazing crowd together ran O'er cranes o' nackets jumpin Then cam a batch o' wabfter lads Frae " Rodney's Head" careerin, Wha gied them mony a donfy blaad Without the caufes fpeerin O' the fray, that day. Up SUMMER; Up Watty Bodkin wi* a rung, Cam like a lion rampin An' 'tween his teeth his flav'rin tongue Fu' faft he kept a champin Now Watty, tho' a taylor bred, Was ane o' racklefs mettle- He lap the Jans to Willie Gled An' foon the tweelie fettl'd But bluid that day. Such 8 SUMMER. Such was the iiTue of the jovial day. Now fwarm the ruftics o'er the blufhing vale, Intent to reap the bounty, o' the mead. - Now, hand in hand, in focial chat, walk forth, Both men an' maidens, youthfu', to the toil. Behind the mowers, fome, wi' carefu' hands Difperfe the fwairded herbage to the fun. Hence, through the breathing harveft, row on row, Appears the tedded grain. Unto the day Some fpread the humid locks while fome wi' rakes, The balmy ruflet hay, mellow an' fweet, Thick o'er the morn plain in cocks collect. Sic blifsfu' fcenes of labor and of love, Of focial glee and merriment, the fons of health, In their retirement, happily enjoy.- Such fcenes of rural mirth, and rural peace, Are much unken'd to the voluptuous cit, Whofe pleafure is connn'd within the walls Of, throng commercial life whofe only joy Is hoarded in his fcrip aboon his gold. Now SUMMER. 81 Now to the hills the ruddy band break forth, Joyfu' an' ftrong, an' in the wattled fold The harmlefs flocks convene. Frae hill to hill The bleating din is heard, doleful an* wae Lambs for their mothers mourning, an' the yowes Dreading a feparation, to the hills Caft o'er their mou'ders many a wifhfu' glance, Frae eyes fu' fwell'd wi' true maternal love. Into the pen the timid flocks are hurl'd An', now, upo' their panting, tawdry, fides, The (hears ply nimbly, wi' inceffant twang. Ye harmlefs race ! it is for needy man Ye're of your fleeces rob'd Be not afraid 'Tis not the flaught'rous gully 'bove your heads That's lifted 'Tis the gently moving hand Of tender-hearted fwain, which o'er your iides Guides the keen cowing fhears. When meekly to The all-bereaving hand ye've laid your hips, Ye mall again your former freedom find ; An', leave, to wander on your well-known hills. G Nature 82 SUMMER. Nature now pants beneath the potent fun The parched clod, expofed to the day, Is of its vegetation nip'd. The cleaving fields And wide extended plains gape, wi' the pow'r O' the all-conq'ring noon. The purling ftream Scarce murmurs o'er its pebbles and, the hills, Seen thro' the floating blaze, appear to fmoke. Thrice blefs'd the fwain, who, in the caller fide O' th' tow'ring hill, can ftretch his weary limbs, Regardlefs o' the heat or, in the made O' th' leafy foreft can fupinely ly, An' whittle every forrowing care awa. Retire my Mufe ! into the middle gloom Of yonder diflant wood, where grows the oak, Talleft an' broadeft to the bluming year, On whofe fair top, the culver, fitting, coos His woodlan' notes, expreffive, to his mate. There, in the awfu' made fits folemn Peace. There is the place where Meditation dwells ! Far frae the world retir'd, the honeft foul Sits SUMMER. 83 Sits ruminating on the ways of men ; An* thro' the gloom of thick embow'ring trees, Afpires the brightnefs of a world unknown. Black o'er the fky the rolling clouds pervade ; An', 'fore the fun their fable mantle fpread. Frae pole to pole, the lengthen'd gloom is ftretch'd, Creative of difmay. Aloud the peals Of thunder now athwart the lift is heard, Tremendous to the ear an', cloud on cloud, Compelled by the rending light'ning's rage, Rum on, " in furious elemental war." Hence wi' conflictive ftorm, upo' the plains Down fa* the pearly drops o' nipping hail. Difolv'd in liquid ftreams, the torrent fwells High o'er its banks, an' lays the verdant vale In one continued deluge. Often on The wide diftended plain, the farmer cafls His woefu' eye, while, down the rolling ftream He views the labors o 1 his carefu' hands, G 2 Borne g 4 SUMMER. Borne on the wave, an' in the ocean loft. Frae the gray bank, where willows intertwine Wi' fedge an' rufhes, o'er the limpid pool, The wild-duck, roufed by the fowler's tread, Faft flaughters, quacking, to the farther fhore ; While to the lake, her little gorlin brood Pieping diflrefs, pop headlong in the flood, An* dive for fafety. On the humid bank The fimerman purfues his lonely trade ; An' to the flood flings forth his luring bait, To tempt the ged. Where now the fwelled tide Enfkirts the borders o' the bufhy bank, And in the corners o' the morn mead Encircles in a pool, there, with the breeze, Fling forth thy hook, deck'd with the peacock gem. Should now the hungry chieftain o' the deep Efpy the well-deck'd fly, afkance he views't Wi' wilhfu' eye, an' as it fkims the flood Around his head, wi' ardent wheel he turns, .An' plunges, eager, on the buiked death. To SUMMER. 85 To tread the verdant bank in fummer-heat Wi' pliant rod to lam the cryftal flood ; An', drag the finny captives to the more Is exercife right fondly to be wifh'd. As frae the face of the obfcured heaven The fcatter'd clouds difperfe, the azure fky Appears, expreflive, of a bonny day. All Nature, cheared by the bright'ning fun, Shines forth wi' greater luflre, calm an' pure, DifFufing through the univerfe her gifts An', o'er the fields in yellow robes of joy, Difplays the beauties b' the plenteous year-^ 'Tis glorious all, an' beautifu' around-^- Through verdant vales the pleafing found is heard, Of lowing herds while bleating flocks, upo' The hills, thick fpreading, join the gratefu' fong To charm the lift'ning ear< An' fhall not man, Whofe joys are more exalted, an* whofe blifs Is of a purer caft who o'er the world G 3 Perceives 86 SUMMER. Perceives the tempeft ceas'd, an' peace reftor'd, Shall he, unthankfu', fit, an' unconcern'd, Neglect to chant the wonders of that hand, Which, chang'd the florm into an azure calm; And, hufti'd the thunder into milder day ! The fun, now downward on the weftern main Lets fall his yellow rays, mot, mildly, o'er The diftant hills, wi' animating warmth- The fleeting clouds, in beauteous robes bedeck'd, IncefTant roll athwart the fky ferene While o'er the verdant fields, the idle world Slow moving walk, to tafte the vital breeze ; An' pafs, in focial chat, the ev'ning-hour Some, now, upo' the mountains, lonely, love To walk, an' meditate on Nature's Works- There in the rugged wildernefs, where, in The mountain daify, or the creeping bri'r, They may behold, to harmonize the heart j An' raife their gratefu' praifes up to heav'n. Some o'er the fertile valley chufe to walk Amidft SUMMER. 87 Amidfl the richer fragrance while, fome love Upo' the river's winding bank to ftray ; An', breathe their meditations o'er the ftream. At this cool hour of day, the 'village fwarms Exulting, on the green, ilk on his play An' fav'rite pleafure bent. Some ban to nicve, Wi' manly pith o' arm, beyond the mark, Far fling the pond'rous mell. Lefs valid, fome, Though notlefs dext'rous, on the padder'd green, Frae doon to doon, moot forth the penny-flane. Thus, on his fport intent, each honeft heart Exulting, bids the gladfome ftreams of joy, An', focial mirth, diffufe upo' the plain. Unto the {haded grove the nymphs an' fwains Wi' a* the rural train in troops repair, To play at buf. The maded, cool, retreat, Invites to focial fport. The mirthfu' choir Around the hood-wink'd fwain a' hooting run, Ilk ftriving to efcape his wily catch. - G 4 Ane 88 SUMMER. Ane plucks his fleeve, another, dauntlefs, Hands Within an arm's -length o's blin'-folded face His fav'rite nymph, wi' glad, uplifted, heart, Stands chirlin> in a corner, longing much To feel his lov'd embrace Quick fighted he In love, led by the laugh, faft to his breaft Enclafps the willing maid. Thus pafs the hours In joyous play, an' leal familiarity. Right SUMMER. 89 " Right vvinfome was the fimmer e'en* " When lads and lafles pingle " An' coupin carls on the green " An' dancing round the ingle " The laird o' Mumfield merry grew, " An' Maggy Blythe was fainer " An* Michael wi' a mather fu' " Crys " Welcome to the manor." " They whifk'd about the good brown ale, " An' bumper'd round the claret " Thewhifky ran frae reaming pails " Some lafTes got their fkair o't (t The cook-maid {he was wond'rous fpruce, " An* bobbed in the entry " She wadna tafte it butt the houfe, " But pried it in the pantry. An* SUMMER. " An* now, the glomin comin on '* The lafies turned fkiegh, man, " They hid themfels amang the corn, " To keep the lads abeigh, man " But Maggy, wha fu' well did ken, " The lurking Latherins' meaning, " Put a* the lads upo' the fcent, " An* bade them ilanch their greening. " Weel kilted frae a breckan bufs " Up ftarted Rofy Dougan, " As tent as, if fhe had been a pufs, '? An' ilk yaul chiel a grewhun , )k *' So ho ! they cry'd away they went, " She led them fie a firing, man " Syne turn'd about, an' hameward ften'd, " A* pechan in. a ring man. Sue SUMMER. 91 " Sue Cumberlaw an' Helen Don " In jumping o'er a dyke, man, " Fell, belly-flaught, on Doctor John " Wha cur'd the rumple-fyke, man " Poor Helen fhe fell in a trance " The Doctor twice did flumble, '* He fkilfully pu'd out his lance " An' cur'd her o' the tumble. " Upon a truff fat Leezy Card, " The Landlord he fat nieft her, " He on her fleely ftroak'd his beard, " While mantin Michael mift her " O doughty Landlord ! Hay cries, " My titta ye will ruin " Ne'er fam your beard, the dame replies " There is no harm a doing." The 9 j SUMMER. The fun has lofl his pow'r, and now, apace Sinks 'yond the weflern hills. The made of night O'erfpreads the wide domain. The lowing herds Unto the loans repair And, in the brake The feather'd tribes pop, quietly, to reft, Now filence o'er the world prevails. -And, now, All Nature foaks refrefhment from the dew O' the cool, nightly hours. Man to his home Wi* weary limbs repairs and, in his cot Reclining, till the dawn, in eafefu* fleep, Contented, hails the day; and, joyfully, Renews the labor of his humble lot. AUTUMN. AUTUMN. TT 1 A I R to the fight, acrofs the yellow plain, Rich Autumn comes in, bounty-bearing drefs. Rank-fpreading Summer's vegetative green, Now ripens into dufky plenteoufnefs. Led on to gratefu' praife, my reed I tune, Wi' me/ry heart. Whatever the mellowing froft, In Winter's cold, purgative, had prepar'd, And Summer's fun had caus'd to bloflbm forth, Low-bending now, luxuriant to the view, Excites my ruflic Mufe, and fwells her fong. When equal are the hours of night and day, And, Ceres balances the circling year, Departed Summer, o'er the lifted iky, Leaves a ferener hue. Sweet beams arife, Of lucid, pleafing light while, o'er the glebe, By 94 AUTUMN. By kind attempting funs, the ripen'd corn Spreads forth its ears, extenfive. Richly they Stand in the early dawn and, to the eye Afford a plenteous fight exciting praife. 'Tis morn filent and thick the bending ftore Leans o'er the yellow field and, not a ftalk Is feen to wag, fave, by the bunting-lark, Or hungry fparrow. To the golden light, Th' bounteous harveft lends the heavy head ; And, dew-drop'd fields wide glitter with the day. " A calm of plenty ! till the ruffled air " Falls from its poife, and, lets the zephyrs blow" The fanning weft- wind rends the darken'd lift ; And, dufky clouds, along the iky obfcur'd, Fly fcatter'd. To the foftly-fweeping breeze, The fleecy mantle yields, born gently on, Like downy flakes, athwart the thiflly field. The day advancing, fhines upo' the plain ; And, gilds the flufhing harvefl. To the eye, As AUTUMN. 95 As far as the extended profpect {hoots, The waving warld difplays its chequer'd face ; Rolling luxurious in a flood of grain. Red frae the eaft the fun begins to peep The reapers, drowfy, and, wi' ropy eyes, Start frae their thatched cots, and, to the bent Swarm forth, accoutred for the lab'rous toil. The born is out loud blafts the valleys fill ; And, morning calls fpread through each neighb'ring field. The matter's voice beftirs the lazy lafs, With rankled thumb, and, weary worked wrift ; And, at a word, all hands in toil unite. " This morning bodes us ill," an auld wife cries " For fee ! the fun isfetfing ere he rife" " 'Tis true forfooth," another ftraightway/ fays " For, the gray crow flew o'er our midden tap, " An,' croak'd his hollow notes before the ra'en." " But hear ye me," crys lucky, on the heel " The 9 6 AUTUMN. " The ftars yeftreen, fhot weftlin down the lift ; " And, fell likefumert'sfpumg, on the bog." 'Tis a' o'er true their bodings, and, their fpells, Raife up the De'il, and hence, the wind and florin. Black frae the South, a hurricane is feen To fweep the heathy fells, and, fcroggy braes Its face fraught with deftrudion. Through the band 'Tis wild concern, and, dire amazement all. The fcene is chang'd each flings his fickle by. Some bind up {heaves, and fome in heaps them caft One forms the ftook wi' nice-directing eye, Another following after, crowns with hoods Thus, through the field, in a tumult'ous throng, Their pliant hands, work nimbly out their talk. Now labor's hu{h'd. The pearly drops fa' thick ; An', furly blafts invigorate their force. To Tcape the florm, fome to the hedge repair- Others unto theflooks for flicker, flee. Ane fcours the plain, well kilted to the baw 9 Striving, AUTUMN. 97 Striving, wi' hafty ftrides t'outrun the florm While others, in defiance of the day, Chuckle together, underneath the flraw. Fafterand fafter falls the pearly florin ; And, {huts the mailer's hopes in clouds of rain. A fruitlefs day ! Now, hameward all return, Wi' each his fickle on his collar fix'd ; And, round the warm hearth, in hafle repair- A dripping crowd. Some parched fuel bring ] One flings on turf another flirs the coals. All now are wet, and, all would fain be dry- Meanwhile, the cau'dron-pot, brimful of roots, Is from the ingle ta'en, and ftraight again, The active part commences. -Thud on thud, The fonorous beetle on the metal clangs ; And, champs, deflrudive. Now the fignal giv'n,^ Each plays his part, wi' fhining morning face ; And great's the noife of boys, and fpoons, and dogs. Wi' paunch well fluff 'd, all penfive care's forgot ; And, " f