THE

FARMER'S HA',

A

POEM.

O fortunatos nimium, sua si bona norunt
Agricolas! quibus ipsa, procul discordibus armis,
Fundit humo facilem victum, justissima tellus.

VIRG. Georg.

F

SUBJECT OF THE FARMER'S HA'.

Convening of the Servants in the evening, Harvest being previously finished...The various operations going on...The Auld Gudewife; her thrifty superintendence...The Tailor...The Dog and Cat...The Song and Tales...The Chapman...The Gauger...The Beggars...The return of John from the Smithy. His news...Wars and Weddings...The Gudeman appears... Silence ensues...He gives orders about meating the Horse and next day's work...Then comes the Supper; merry chatting after it... Lastly, bed-time, and rising in the morning.

THE FARMER'S HA'.

Thus jocund fleets with them the winter's night.

THOMSON.

I.

In winter nights, whae'er has seen
The farmer's canty Ha' convene,
Finds a' thing there to please his een.

And heart enamour,

Nor langs to see the town, I ween,

That houff o' clamour.

II.

Whan stately stacks are tightly theekit,

And the wide style is fairly steekit,

Nae birkie, sure, save he war streekit

For his lang hame,

But wad gie mair for ae short week o't

Than I can name.

III.

The lasses ay the glowming hail,

For syne the lads come frae the flail,

Or else frae haddin' the plough-tail,

That halesome wark;

Disease about they dinna trail,

Like city spark.

IV.

They a' drive to the ingle cheek,
Regardless of a flan o' reek,

And weil their meikle fingers beek,

To gi'e them tune,

Syne sutors alson nimbly streek,

To mend their shoon.

V.

They pow and rax the lingel tails,
Into their brogs they ca' the nails,
Wi' hammers now, instead o' flails,

They mak' great rackets,

And set about their heels wi' rails

O' clinkin tackets.

VI.

And ay till this mis-thriven age,
The gudeman here sat like a sage;

Wi' mill in hand, and wise adage,

He spent the night:

But now he sits in chamber's cage,

A pridefu' wight.

VII.

The lasses wi' their unshod heels,

Are sittin' at their spinnin'-wheels,

And weel ilk blythsome kemper dreels,

And bows like wand;

The auld gudewife the pirney reels

Wi' tenty hand.

VIII.

The carlin', ay for spinnin bent,

Tells them right aft, they've fa'en ahent, And that the day is e'en far spent ;

And crys,

Reminds ilk hussey,

"Ye'll no mak' out your stent,

"Save ye be busy."

IX.

Tib braks, wi' haste, her foot-broad latch;
Megs lights the crusy wi' a match,
Auld luckie bids her mak' dispatch,

And girdle heat,

For she maun yet put out a batch

O' bear and ait.

X.

There's less wark for the girdle now,
Nor was in days of yore, I trow,

Gude scoudered bannocks has nae gou'

To husbandmen;

For o'en wheat-bread dits ilka mou'

That stays the ben'.

XI.

The young gudewife and bairnies a'

Right seenil now look near the ha',
For fear their underlins sud shaw

A cauld neglect:

But pride was never kent to draw

Luve or respect.