For weel she trows, that fiends and fairies be And corn been scowder'd on the glowin' kill. And dim our dolefu' days wi' bairnly fear; Yet thrift, industrious, bides her latest days, Though age her sair-dow'd front wi' runkles wave; Yet frae the russet lap the spindle plays, Her e'enin' stent reels she as weel's the lave. Fu' cadgie that her head was up and saw In its auld lerroch yet the deas remains, Where the gudeman aft streeks him at his ease; A warm and canny lean for weary banes O' labourers dyolt upon the weary leas. Frae him the lads their mornin' counsel tak- For meal and mu'ter to the thirlin' mill. Tak tent, case Crummy tak her wonted tids, And ca' the laiglen's treasure on the ground; Then a' the house for sleep begin to grien, And hafflins steeks them frae their daily toil; The reistit ingle's done the maist it dow; Peace to the husbandman, and a' his tribe, And banks o' corn bend down wi' laded ear. Frae the hard grips o' ails and poortith freed, And a lang lasting train o' peacefu' hours succeed! CALLER OYSTERS. Happy the man who, free from care and strife, Or a' the waters that can hobble -Phillips. There's nane sae spacious and sae noble, In her the skate and codlin sail; Their spindle-shanks the labsters trail, Auld Reekie's sons blythe faces wear; The halesomest and nicest gear O! then, we needna gie a plack As gar their feckless patients tak Come, prie, frail man! for gin thou art sick, As ever doctor patient gart lick To cure his ails; Whether you hae the head or heart ache, Ye tipplers! open a' your poses; To fleg awa your simmer roses, When big as burns the gutters rin, Owre oysters and a dram o' gin, When auld Saunt Giles, at aught o'clock, * A famous oyster-tavern of Fergusson's time, situated in the Cowgate, where it is now crossed by the South Bridge. There we adjourn wi' hearty fouk And get wharewi' to crack our joke, When Phoebus did his winnocks steek, I trow, there was nae hame to seek, While glaikit fools, owre rife o' cash, That gusts his gab wi' oyster-sauce, At Musselbrough, and eke Newhaven, And tak o' fat Pandores * a prieven, Then, sometimes, ere they flit their doup, And swallow owre a dainty soup, A' ye wha canna stand sae sicker, When twice you've toom'd the big-ars'd bicker, If greedy priest or drouthy vicar *A certain favourite kind of oysters. BRAID CLAITH. YE wha are fain to hae your name But hap ye weel baith back and wame, He that some ells o' this may fa',* When bienly clad wi' shell fu' braw This line, as Dr. Grosart points out, elucidates an expression in Burns which is somewhat obscure, if left unexplained, as it very often is. The word "fa'," at the end, evidently means possess. Burns, in his noble song of "Honest Poverty," says "A king may mak' a belted knight, A marquis, duke, an' a' that; But an honest man's aboon his might, Has the same word again the same meaning? Some say yes, some say no. In Wood's Songs of Scotland, edited by George Farquhar Graham, the following explanation is given :-"The meaning of the expression 'he mauna fa' that,' is obscure. Jamieson's Dictionary does not explain the phrase, though the line is given. In common glossaries to Burns, the word 'fa'' is explained by fall, lot. Neither of these would make sense in Burns' line. Try, attempt, venture, is evidently the only satisfactory meaning of 'fa' in that place. The expression occurs long before Burns' poetizing days, in the old song beginning Tho' Geordie reigns in Jamie's stead.' See the second volume of Ritson's Scottish Songs, page 104 The whigs think a' that weal is won, But faith they ma'na' fa' that.' Or, as Hogg, in the second series of his Jacobite Relics, page 56, gives it, maunna fa' that.' Here the phrase is equally obscure as in Burns' song, but the meaning seems to be they must not venture to believe that."" |