Yet thrift, industrious, bides her latest days;

2 wrinkles

Though age her sair-dow'd1 front wi' runcles2 wave, I sorely faded. Yet frae the russet lap the spindle plays,

Her e'enin' stent3 reels she as weel's the lave.
On some feast-day the wee things, buskit braw,
Shall heeze her heart up wi' a silent joy,
Fu' cadgies that her head was up, and saw
Her ain spun cleedin' on a darlin' oy7;
Careless though death should mak' the feast her foy.

3 task.

4 lift.

5 cheerful. 6 clothing. 7 grandson.

In its auld lerroch yet the deas9 remains,

8 place.
9 settle.

Whare the gudeman aft streiks 10 him at his ease; 10 stretches.

A warm and canny lean for weary banes

II stupefied with
fatigue.
12 pussy.

O' lab'rers doiled upon the wintry leas.
Round him will baudrins 12 and the colley come,
To wag their tail, and cast a thankfu' e'e
To him wha kindly flings them mony a crumb
O' kebbuck whang'd13, and dainty fadge to prie 14; lumps.
This a' the boon they crave, and a' the fee.

13 cheese cut in

14 bannock to taste.

Frae him the lads their mornin' counsel tak' ;

What stacks he wants to thrash, what rigs to till; How big a birn 15 maun lie on Bassie's 16 back,

For meal and mu'ter to the thirlin' mill.*

15 burden. 16 old horse.

* In feudal times every owner of a barony was bound to build a meal mill upon his lands. To this mill all the tenants of the barony were "thirled." That is, they were bound to send their corn there to be ground at certain rates. Whether they did so or not, the multures, or payments in kind, had to be made.

Niest, the gudewife her hirelin' damsels bids
Glower through the byre, and see the hawkies'
bound;

Tak' tent, 'case Crummy tak' her wonted tids2,
And ca' the leglin's 3 treasure on the ground,
Whilk spills a kebbuck nice, or yellow pound.

Then a' the house for sleep begin to grien,
Their joints to slack frae industry a while;
The leaden god fa's heavy on their een,

And haflins steeks 5 them frae their daily toil;
The cruizie too can only blink and bleer;

The restit ingle's done the maist it dow3;
Tacksman and cotter eke to bed maun steer,
Upo' the cod to clear their drumly pow",
Till waukened by the dawnin's ruddy glow.

12 ridges.

13 showery.

14 comfortable.

Peace to the husbandman and a' his tribe,
Whase care fells a' our wants frae year to year!
Lang may his sock and cou'ter turn the glybe,

And bauks 12 o' corn bend down wi' laded ear!
May Scotia's simmers ay look gay and green;

Her yellow har'sts frae scowry 13 blasts decreed !
May a' her tenants sit fu' snug and bien 14,

Frae the hard grip o' ails and poortith freed;
And a lang lasting train o' peacefu' hours succeed!

THE SITTING OF THE SESSION.

PHOEBUS, Sair cowed wi' Simmer's height,
Couers near the yird1 wi' blinkin' light;
Cauld shaw the haughs, nae mair bedight
Wi' Simmer's claes,

Which heeze the heart o' dowie wight
That through them gaes.

I earth.

2 uplift.

Weel lo'es me o' you, Business! now;

For ye'll weet mony a drouthy mou',
That's lang a eisnin'3 gane for you,
Withouten fill

O' dribbles frae the gude brown cow,
Or Highland gill.

The Court o' Session, weel wat I,

Pits ilk chiel's whittle i' the pie;

Can creesh the slaw-gaun wheels whan dry,

Till Session's done;

Though they'll gi'e mony a cheep and cry

Or twalt o' June.

1 hard drinkers.

2 tipple.

3 throat-phlegm,

lit. gossamer.

4 trouble.

Ye benders' a' that dwall in joot2,
You'll tak' your liquour clean cap out,
Synd your mouse-webs3 wi' reamin' stout,
While ye ha'e cash,

And gar your cares a' tak' the rout,
And thumb ne'er fash4.

5 countenance.

6 tabled.

Rob Gibb's gray giz5, new frizzled fine,
Will white as ony snaw-ba' shine;
Weel does he lo'e the lawin' coin
Whan dossied down,

For whisky gills, or dribs o' wine,
In cauld forenoon.

7 flatter.

Bar-keepers now, at outer door,

Tak' tent as folk gang back and fore;
The fient ane there but pays his score;
Nane wins toil free;

Though ye've a cause the House before,
Or agent be.

Gin ony here wi' canker knocks,
And has na loused his siller pocks,
Ye needna think to fleetch7 or coax;
"Come, shaw's your gear:-
Ae scabbit ewe spoils twenty flocks :-

Ye's nae be here."

I

Now, at the door, they'll raise a plea :-
Crack on, my lads! for flyting's free;
For gin ye should tongue-tackit2 be,
The mair's the pity,

When scauldin' but and ben we see,
Pendente lite.

I scolding.

2 tongue-tied.

The lawyers' skelfs, and printers' presses,
Graen unco sair wi' weighty cases;

The clerk in toil his pleasure places,
To thrive bedeen 3;

At five hours bell scribes shaw their faces,
And rake their een 4.

3 forthwith.

4 rub the rheum from their eyes.

The country folk to lawyers crook:
"Ah, weel's me o' your bonnie buik!
The benmost part o' my kist nook
I'll ripe for thee,

And willing ware my hindmost rook7
For my decree."

5 search, rifle.

6 spend.

7 possession.

But Law's a draw-well unco deep,
Withouten rim folk out to keep;

A donnart chiel, whan drunk, may dreep

Fu' sleely in,

ΙΟ

But finds the gate9 baith stey 10 and steep

Ere out he win.

8 stupified.

9 way.
10 toilsome.