The Canongate Burns (26 page)

A
Guid New-Year
I wish thee, Maggie!

Hae, there's a ripp to thy auld baggie:
handful, stomach

Tho' thou's howe-backit now, an' knaggie,
hollow-backed, knobbly

                I've seen the day

5
Thou could hae gaen like onie staggie,
have gone, any colt

                Out-owre the lay.
-over, lea

Tho' now thou's dowie, stiff, an' crazy,
drooping

An' thy auld hide as white's a daisie,
old

I've seen thee dappl't, sleek an' glaizie,
glossy

10
                A bonie gray:

He should been tight that daur't to
raize
thee,
able, dared, excite

                Ance in a day.
once

Thou ance was i' the foremost rank,
once

A
filly
buirdly, steeve, an' swank;
strong, trim, stately

15
An' set weel down a shapely shank
well, leg

                  As e'er tread yird;
earth

An' could hae flown out-owre a stank
have, -over, ditch

                  Like onie bird.
any
 

It's now some nine-an'-twenty year

20
Sin' thou was my
Guidfather's Meere
;
father-in-law's, mare

He gied me thee, o' tocher clear,
gave, dowry

                  An' fifty mark;
a coin worth 13s 4d

Tho' it was sma',' twas
weel-won
gear,
small, well-won money

                  An' thou was stark.
strong

25
When first I gaed to woo my
Jenny
,
went

Ye then was trottan wi' your Minnie:
mother

Tho' ye was trickie, slee, an' funnie,
difficult, sly

                  Ye ne'er was donsie;
mischievous

But hamely, tawie, quiet, an' cannie,
homely, placid, docile

30
                  An' unco sonsie.
very good-natured

That day, ye pranc'd wi' muckle pride,
great

When ye bure hame my bonie
Bride
:
bore/carried home

An' sweet an' gracefu' she did ride,

                  Wi' maiden air!

35
KYLE-STEWART I could bragged wide,
boasted the district over

                  For sic a
pair
.
such

Tho' now ye dow but hoyte and hobble,
can, limp, stumble

An' wintle like a saumont-coble,
twist, salmon-boat

That day
, ye was a jinker noble,
runner

40
                  For heels an' win'!
wind

An' ran them till they a' did wauble,
wobble

                  Far, far behin'!

When thou an' I were young and skiegh,
proud/fiery

An'
Stable-meals
at Fairs were driegh,
tedious

45
How thou wad prance, an' snore, an' scriegh,
would, snort, whinny

                  An' tak the road!

Town's-bodies
ran, an' stood abiegh,
out of the way

                  An' ca't thee mad.
called

When thou was corn't, an' I was mellow,
fed

50
We took the road ay like a Swallow:

At
Brooses
thou had ne'er a fellow,
a horse race at a wedding

                  For pith an' speed;

But ev'ry tail thou pay't them hollow,
beat

                  Whare'er thou gaed.
went

55
The sma', droop-rumpl't, hunter cattle
small, short-rumped

Might aiblins waur't thee for a brattle;
perhaps beat, short race

But
sax Scotch mile
thou try't their mettle,
six

                  An' gar't them whaizle:
made, wheeze

Nae whip nor spur, but just a wattle
no, stick

60
                  O' saugh or hazle.
willow, hazel

Thou was a noble
Fittie-lan
',
back left-hand plough horse

As e'er in tug or tow was drawn!

Aft thee an' I, in aught hours' gaun,
often, any, going

                  On guid March-weather,
good

65
Hae turn'd
sax rood
beside our han'
have, six quarter acres

                  For days thegither.
together

Thou never braing't, an' fetch't, an' flisket;
plunged, stalled, capered

But thy
auld tail
thou wad hae whisket,
old, would have lashed

An' spread abreed thy weel-fill'd
brisket
,
across to, breast

70
                  Wi' pith an' pow'r;

Till sprittie knowes wad rair't, an' risket,
rush-covered knolls were cracked and ripped

                  An' slypet owre.
smashed over (by plough)

When frosts lay lang, an' snaws were deep,
long, snows

An' threaten'd
labour
back to keep,

75
I gied thy
cog
a wee bit heap
gave, feed measure

                  Aboon the timmer:
above the rim

I ken'd my
Maggie
wad na sleep
knew, would not

                  For that, or Simmer.
before summer

In
cart
or
car
thou never reestet;
baulked

80
The steyest brae thou wad hae fac't it;
steepest hill, would have

Thou never lap, an' sten't, an' breastet,
leaped, reared

                  Then stood to blaw;
puff for air

But just thy step a wee thing hastet,
a little shortened

                  Thou snoov't awa.
pushed away

85
My Pleugh is now thy
bairn-time
a',
my plough-team is your offspring

Four gallant brutes as e'er did draw;

Forbye sax mae I've sell't awa,
six more, sold away

                  That thou hast nurst:
nursed

They drew me thretteen pund an' twa,
thirteen pound, two

90
                  The vera warst.

Monie a sair daurk we twa hae wrought,
many, sore day's work, two, have

An' wi' the weary warl' fought!
world

An' monie an
anxious day
I thought
many

                  We wad be beat!
would

95
Yet here to
crazy Age
we're brought,

                  Wi' something yet.

An' think na, my auld trusty
Servan
',
not, old

That now perhaps thou's less deservin,

An' thy
auld days
may end in starvin;
old

100
For my last fow,
bushel

A heapet
Stimpart
, I'll reserve ane
heaped, 8th of a bushel

Laid by for you.

We've worn to crazy years thegither;
together

We'll toyte about wi' ane anither;
totter, one another

105
Wi' tentie care I'll flit thy tether
heedful, change

                  To some hain'd rig,
reserved ground

Whare ye may nobly rax your leather
stretch your body

                  Wi' sma' fatigue. 

My lov'd, my honor'd, much respected friend!

         No mercenary Bard his homage pays;

With honest pride, I scorn each selfish end,

         My dearest meed, a friend's esteem and praise:

5
To you I sing, in simple Scottish lays,

         The
lowly train
in life's sequester'd scene;

The native feelings strong, the guileless ways,

         What Aiken in a
Cottage
would have been;

Ah! tho' his worth unknown, far happier there I ween!
trust 
 

10
November chill blaws loud wi' angry sugh;
blows, whistling wind

         The short'ning winter-day is near a close;

The miry beasts retreating frae the pleugh;
dirty, from, plough

         The black'ning trains o' craws to their repose:
crows

The toil-worn COTTER frae his labour goes,
from

15
        
This night
his weekly moil is at an end,
toil/drudgery

Collects his
spades
, his
mattocks
, and his
hoes
,
a two-mouthed pick

         Hoping the
morn
in ease and rest to spend,

And weary, o'er the moor, his course does hameward bend.
homeward

At length his lonely
Cot
appears in view,
cottage

20
         Beneath the shelter of an aged tree;

Th' expectant wee-things, toddlan, stacher through
children, totter

         To meet their
Dad
, wi' flichterin noise and glee.
fluttering

His wee bit ingle, blinkan bonilie,
fire, burning nicely

         His clean hearth-stane, his thrifty
Wifie's
smile,
fireside, wife's

25
The
lisping infant
, prattling on his knee,

         Does a' his weary kiaugh and care beguile,
anxiety

And makes him quite forget his labor and his toil.

Belyve, the
elder bairns
come drapping in,
by-and-by, kids, dropping

         At
Service
out, amang the Farmers roun';
among, round

30
Some ca' the pleugh, some herd, some tentie rin
work, shepherd, attentively run

         A cannie errand to a neebor town:
private, neighbour

Their eldest hope, their
Jenny
, woman-grown,

         In youthfu' bloom, Love sparkling in her e'e,
eye

Comes hame,
perhaps
, to shew a braw new gown,
home, show, fine

35
         Or deposite her sair-won penny-fee,
sore-, wages

To help her Parents dear, if they in hardship be.

With joy unfeign'd,
brothers
and
sisters
meet,

         And each for other's weelfare kindly spiers:
welfare, inquires

The social hours, swift-wing'd, unnotic'd fleet;

40
         Each tells the uncos that he sees or hears.
news

The
Parents partial
eye their hopeful years;

        
Anticipation
forward points the view;

The
Mother
, wi' her needle and her sheers,
scissors

         Gars auld claes look amaist as weel's the new;
makes old clothes, almost, well

45
The
Father
mixes a' wi' admonition due.

Their Master's and their Mistress's command

         The
youngkers
a' are warned to obey;
youngsters all

And mind their labors wi' an eydent hand,
diligent

         And ne'er, tho' out o' sight, to jauk or play:
fool around

50
‘And O! be sure to fear the LORD always!
always

         And mind your
duty
, duly, morn and night!

Lest in temptation's path ye gang astray,
go

         Implore His counsel and assisting might:

They never sought in vain that sought the LORD aright.'

55
But hark! a rap comes gently to the door;

        
Jenny
, wha kens the meaning o' the same.
who knows

Tells how a neebor lad came o'er the moor,
neighbour

         To do some errands, and convoy her hame.
home

The wily Mother sees the
conscious flame

60
         Sparkle in
Jenny's
e'e, and flush her cheek;
eye

With heart-struck anxious care, enquires his name,

         While
Jenny
hafflins is afraid to speak;
almost/partly

Weel-pleas'd the mother hears, it's nae wild,
no

         worthless
Rake
.

With kindly welcome,
Jenny
brings him ben;
inside

65
         A
strappan youth
, he takes the Mother's eye;

Blythe
Jenny
sees the
visit's
no ill taen;
taken

         The Father cracks of horses, pleughs, and kye.
talks, ploughs, cattle

The
youngster's
artless heart o'erflows wi' joy,

         But blate and laithfu', scarce can weel behave;
shy, hesitating, well

70
The Mother, wi' a woman's wiles, can spy
cunning

         What makes the
youth
sae bashfu' and sae grave;
so

Weel-pleas'd to think her
bairn's
respected like the lave.
well-, child's, the others

O happy love! where love like this is found:

         O heart-felt raptures! bliss beyond compare!

75
I've pacè d much this weary,
mortal round
,

         And sage EXPERIENCE bids me this declare —

‘If Heaven a draught of heavenly pleasure spare,

         One
cordial
in this melancholy
Vale
,

‘Tis when a youthful, loving,
modest
Pair,

80
         In other's arms, breathe out the tender tale

Beneath the milk-white thorn that scents the ev'ning gale.'

Is there, in human form, that bears a heart —

         A wretch! a villain! lost to love and truth!

That can, with studied, sly, ensnaring art,

85
         Betray sweet
Jenny's
unsuspecting youth?

Curse on his perjur'd arts! dissembling, smoothe!

         Are
Honor
,
Virtue
,
Conscience
, all exil'd?

Is there no Pity, no relenting Ruth,
sorrow

         Points to the Parents fondling o'er their Child?

90
Then paints the
ruin'd Maid
, and
their
distraction wild?

But now the Supper crowns their simple board,

         The halesome
Porritch
, chief o' SCOTIA'S food;
wholesome porridge

The soupe their
only Hawkie
does afford,
drink/milk, cow

         That, ‘yont the hallan snugly chows her cood;
beyond, partition, chews

95
The
Dame
brings forth, in complimental mood,

         To grace the lad, her weel-hain'd kebbuck, fell;
well-matured cheese, tasty

And aft he's prest, and aft he ca's it guid;
often, asked, calls, good

         The frugal
Wifie
, garrulous, will tell,
wife

How ‘twas a towmond auld, sin' Lint was i' the bell.
12 months old, flax, flower
 

100
The chearfu' Supper done, wi' serious face,

         They, round the ingle, form a circle wide;

The sire turns o'er, wi' patriarchal grace,

         The big
ha'-Bible
, ance his
Father's
pride.
hall Bible, once

His bonnet rev'rently is laid aside,

105
         His
lyart haffets
wearing thin and bare;
grey sidelocks

Those strains that once did sweet in ZION glide,

         He wales a portion with judicious care,

‘
And let us worship GOD!
' he says, with solemn air.

They chant their artless notes in simple guise,

110
         They tune their hearts, by far the noblest aim;

Perhaps
Dundee's
wild-warbling measures rise,

         Or plaintive
Martyrs
, worthy of the name;

Or noble
Elgin
beets the heaven-ward flame,
fans

         The sweetest far of SCOTIA'S holy lays:

115
Compar'd with these,
Italian trills
are tame;

         The tickl'd ears no heart-felt raptures raise;

Nae unison hae they, with our CREATOR'S praise.
no, have

The priest-like Father reads the sacred page,

         How
Abram
was the Friend of God on high;

120
Or,
Moses
bade eternal warfare wage

         With
Amalek's
ungracious progeny;

Or, how the
royal
Bard did groaning lye

         Beneath the stroke of Heaven's avenging ire;

Or
Job's
pathetic plaint, and wailing cry;

125
         Or rapt
Isaiah's
wild, seraphic fire;

Or other
Holy Seers
that tune the
sacred lyre
.

Perhaps the
Christian Volume
is the theme:

         How
guiltless blood
for
guilty
man was shed;

How He, who bore in Heaven the second name,

130
         Had not on Earth whereon to lay His head;

How His first
followers
and
servants
sped;

         The
Precepts sage
they wrote to many a land:

How
he
, who lone in
Patmos
banishè d,

         Saw in the sun a mighty angel stand,

135
And heard great
Bab'lon's
doompronounc'd by Heaven's command.

Then kneeling down to HEAVEN'S ETERNAL KING,

         The
Saint
, the
Father
, and the
Husband
prays:

Hope ‘springs exulting on triumphant wing,'
1

         That
thus
they all shall meet in future days,

140
There, ever bask in
uncreated rays
,

         No more to sigh or shed the bitter tear,

Together
hymning their CREATOR'S praise,

         In
such society
, yet still more dear;

While circling Time moves round in an eternal sphere.

145
Compar'd with this, how poor Religion's pride,

         In all the pomp of
method
, and of
art
;

When men display to congregations wide

         Devotion's ev'ry grace, except the
heart
!

The POWER, incens'd, the Pageant will desert,

150
         The pompous strain, the sacerdotal stole;

But haply, in some
Cottage
far apart,

         May hear, well-pleas'd, the language of the Soul,

And in His
Book of Life
the Inmates poor enroll.

Then homeward all take off their sev'ral way;

155
         The youngling
Cottagers
retire to rest:
youthful

The Parent-pair their
secret homage
pay,

         And proffer up to Heaven the warm request,

That ‘He who stills the
raven's
clam'rous nest,

         ‘And decks the
lily
fair in flow'ry pride,

160
‘Would, in the way His
Wisdom
sees the best,

         ‘For
them
and for their
little ones
provide;

‘But, chiefly, in their hearts with
Grace Divine
preside'.

From Scenes like these, old SCOTIA'S grandeur springs,

         That makes her lov'd at home, rever'd abroad:

165
Princes and lords are but the breath of kings,

         ‘An honest man's the noble work of GOD';
2

And
certes
, in fair Virtue's heavenly road,
verily

         The
Cottage
leaves the
Palace
far behind;

What is a lordling's pomp? – a cumbrous load,

170
         Disguising oft the
wretch
of human kind,

Studied in arts of Hell, in wickedness refin'd!