VI. Quoth I, 'With a' my heart, I'll do't; Faith we'se hae fine remarkin!' For roads were clad, frae side to side, In droves that day. VII. Here farmers gash, in ridin graith, The lasses, skelpin barefit, thrang, In silks an' scarlets glitter; Wi' sweet-milk cheese, in monie a whang, An' farls bak'd wi' butter Fu' crump that day. VIII. When by the plate we set our nose, An' we maun draw our tippence. Then in we go to see the show, On ev'ry side they're gathrin, Some carrying dales, some chairs an' stools, An' some are busy blethrin Right loud that day. C IX. Here stands a shed to fend the show'rs, Here sits a raw of tittlin jades, Wi' heaving breast and bare neck, An' there a batch of wabster lads, Blackguarding frae Kck, For fun this day. X. Here some are thinkin on their sins, On this hand sits a chosen swatch, Wi' screw'd up grace-proud faces; On that a set o' chaps at watch, Thrang winkin on the lasses To chairs that day. XI. O happy is that man an' blest! Nae wonder that it pride him! Whase ain dear lass, that he likes best, Comes clinkin down beside him! Wi' arm repos'd on the chair back, He sweetly does compose him; Which, by degrees, slips round her neck, An's loof upon her bosom, Unken'd that day. XII. Now a' the congregation o'er For ****** speels the holy door, Hear how he clears the points o' faith Now meekly calm, now wild in wrath, O how they fire the heart devout, Like cantharidian plasters, On sic a day! XIV. But, hark! the tent has chang'd its voice; There's peace an' rest nae langer: For a' the real judges rise, They canna sit for anger. ***** opens out his cauld harangues, On practice an' on morals; An' aff the godly pour in thrangs, To gie the jars an' barrels A lift that day. XV. What signifies his barren shine, Or some auld pagan Heathen, XVI. In guid time comes an antidote Fast, fast, that day. XVII. Wee ******, niest, the Guard relieves, An' Orthodoxy raibles, Tho' in his heart he weel believes,› An' thinks it auld wives' fables: But, faith! the birkie wants a Manse, So, cannily he hums them; Altho' his carnal wit an' sense Like hafflin's-ways o'ercomes him At times that day. XVIII. Now butt an' ben, the Change-house fills, An' there the pint-stowp clatters; While thick an' thrang, an' loud an' lang, Wi' Logic, an' wi' Scripture, They raise a din, that, in the end, Is like to breed a rupture O' wrath that day. XIX. Leeze me on Drink! it gies us mair It never fails, on drinking deep, To kittle up our notion By night or day. XX. The lads an' lasses, blythely bent On this ane's dress, an' that ane's leuk, An' formin assignations To meet some day. |