Then told a twenty-fathom tale,

As long as John-a-Dory's;

While we down-drooping did not fail
To curse his blath'ring* stories,

Fu' gruff that night.

"Now John and Hughye 'gan contend 'Bout Rodney, Blake, and Keppel;

Or whisper'd they knew things would mend
The state of church and chapel :
While I advis'd them like a friend,
To mind not what would hap ill;
But John insisted to the end
That Hughye was a rebel:

Fu' dark that night.

"Each toast poetic that we quaff'd Was Milton, Pope, or Willy † ;

And while the nutbrown tankard soft

Inspir'd old bloated. Billy,

We struck the board, and loudly laught

At all my pranks in Killeigh:

Hughye forgot to take his draught,

He was sae fir'd, I tell ye,

Wi' all that night.

*Foolish.

4 Shakspeare.

"At last the hour of reckoning came;
The reck'ning soon was paid, mon:
Bab sent for Johnnie, long-nos'd dame,
And curs'd his drunken head, mon.
Hughye went home wi' loss of fame;
But Tam, with gentle tread, mon,
While Bess was busy at her game,
Grop'd out his tott'ring bed, mon,
Fu' slow that night.

"While Johnnie told the last bad news,
Or sung sweet' Cowden-knows,' mon,
Hughye was mending horse's shoes,
And Tam in dead repose, mon.—
Next morn at one o'clock my muse
Remember'd this in prose, mon;
But I the doggrel-gallop choose,

'Cause 'twill best please your nose, mon,

Fu' swift this day.

"Now let us sing' God save the King;'

And Lory, long live he, mon!

For none the foamy mug can bring

With such glad honesty, mon.

And may we never drink cold spring *

While nutmeg'd ale is free, mon;

So shall the bairns + our wives may bring,

Lisp out the hour of glee, mon,

*Water.

We spent last night."

TAM FECIT.

+ Children.

WILL GORMAN, THE KILLEIGH WEAVER.

A piteous elegy, indeed,

Endited sad on gabbling Gorman ;
Who, from his loom and shuttle freed,
Took voyage for the Stygian shore, man.

"So dapper was he in his size,
That midwife gossips would surmise
Some fay did blind his mother's eyes,

And stint him short;

Yet would he merry tales devise

With mickle *

sport.

"The Killeigh Mercury he was,
To pen songs on the corner-cross;
Or lay them on the pump across,

With cautious look.

I' faith, we have a piteous loss,

Since he forsook.

"When o'er his loom the great mon † sat,

He'd verses make on this or that,

On Norah's stockings, Nelly's hat,

Or Nancy's garters;

Or satires pen black as my hat,

* Much,

And cut in quarters.

+ Man

"Not Hudibras himself was greater
In forging Babylonish metre ;
Rebus he'd fix on any creature,

And ne'er the worse:

I think his numscull was completer

Stor'd than his purse.

"Know then (for him you 'll ne'er ken more, man), Here lies the shell-work of Will Gorman.”

A LAMENTABLE ELEGY ON NICHOLAS, THE KILLEIGH TAYLOR.

"THY namesake saw thy worth at last;
And took thee, faith, at a dead cast:

Thy revels and thy routs are past,

Ill-fated Nichol;

Auld don† thy carcase threw with haste

Into his pickle.

"Now you may deck the prince of soot
With goodly clothes from head to foot
I ween he wants a new recruit ;

For since his fall

But an old pall.

He's got no tolerable suit,

* Old Nick (as we say).

+ The old.don (explained in the preceding note).

1

"Much good may this new custom do thee! the coquettes of lowland woo thee,

Ma

And am'rous scratch thy cheeks so ruddy
With tooth and nail;

And when thou enter'st on their study,

Bid thee all-hail!

"Cesar may want thy aid, sir, there;
Or Alexander, the great bear,

Pawn his lank knapsack in despair,

To get thee credit:

For authors say, queer clothes they wear,
As you may read it.

"We'll give thee joy of thy free trade.
May'st thou by Satan be well paid:

And never be by duns dismay'd;

Save now and then,

By some fair brimstone-blooded jade !---

John says,Amen.'

"What pompous words thy tongue adorn'd!

For monosyllables were scorn'd.